Two weeks ago I posted an update by the Good Reverend, I received quite a few emails from readers who were pretty down with what Rev. Smooth had to say.  So by popular demand, and because it's noon on Friday and I still have no fucking clue what the hell to write an update about this week, here's another insight into the world of the corrupt clergy.

The Dating Game

Well folks, you'll find it hard to believe but at several points in my life, the Chaotic Good Reverend here has been tied down to one woman...

...one crazy-assed, insufferable woman at a time...

So at my own expense, anger and unconditional love of my own rattle I've composed a little memoir of my love life, namely three that defined the way I look at relationships in general.  Then you'll see why I keep many loosely attached vice one tightly wound, as they say...

...Because sometimes, some important times, relationships is fo' suckas...

Subject One: The Seven Year Bitch

This character had to be, by far the one woman I could honestly say I was in love with from first sight.  We dated all through high school, even kept it going while I was away in Japan making it a total of seven years.  Seven years of my youth I managed to salvage back.

First off, this shit was your typical "on again, off again" as if the goddess of love were some senile old crazy cat lady using the "clapper" on the relationship.  Talk about drama, I'm surprised it never degenerated into some "war of the roses" style bloodbath.  I mean our arguments, shit thatwas like watching that final lightsaber duel in Star Wars Episode III only more epic, lasted longer, no whiny pregnant bitch to be choked and sadly no lava.

...I just wanted some fucking lava, that's all...

Hell, when I got back home to the 'States the bitch put me in the "figure four" leg lock ala Ric Flair.  I shit you not, a perfect figure four!  All because I told her it was silly to get freaked out that I was drafting a tractor trailer on I-95.

...there's no such thing as tailgating in the South, only drafting...don't you people watch NASCAR?

Well, I set my sights on the yellow goalpost and punted that bitch for all I was worth like a first-string kicker at the Super Bowl.

Subject Two

This one was a peach, after an agreement with subject one I pursued other females since it's kind of a joke to expect your significant other's "designated dick" to "be good" on the other side of the world.  Call it amnesty in advance or whatever you want but anyway I was tricking around.  Until this one showed up...criminy.  At the time, I was just trying to keep up the whole friends with benefits thing that had been going well for the last few years.  Never once did I expect one to gather "feelings" given that I was... oh I don't know, TEN YEARS HER JUNIOR.  Either I have the magic stick (most likely) or women in their middle ages are afraid to be alone... which is a bucket of horse shit.  Take it from a guy who might as well be called "The Milkman" because if your mom's hot, I probably hit it already.  Given my experience, I knew things weren't right when I got a text message:

Subject 2:  "Hope you had a good time last night"

Rev. Smooth:  "That was pretty cool man"

(here's where I knew things were a-wry)

Subject 2:  "Yeah it was special"

"Yeah it was special"?  After one, ONE night of things I'm not really going to speak of?  That should've clued me in, but I was dumbin' out something fierce.  Not one month later I'm at my place, she's lying in the sack next to me when I heard something...peculiar...

S2:  "Um...I love you..."

RS:  (rolls over, grunts, pretends not to hear)

S2:  (louder, yet softly) "I love you...you love me?"

RS:  (turns to face S2) That's pretty cool, man. I mean that's sweet...

So I lay silent, I sure as all hell wasn't going to lie and say "Aww baby, I loves ya back" like a sucka, fuck that noise!  I know it makes me sound like a dick, but I just don't give a fuck!  I hate it when chicks get all mushy on me that early when I give my "disclaimer":

WARNING:  Relationships with this man are subject, but not limited to, the following:

1. Emotional distance

2. Mystery

3. Unpredictability

4. Pressure to out drink subject and fail miserably

5. Dizziness/nausea/vomiting from inherent awesomeness

Subject Three

This bitch had to be, by far, one of the bigger mistakes of my life.  She was crazier than a loon, had more issues than the New York Times and sucked my will to live.  Just thinking about that chick makes my penis soft.  First off, I gave her the disclaimer with a bonus, telling her "If there's anything you feel as though I should know about you, tell me."  Reason being, I don't like being told to "open up" so I put it right back on them.  Unfortunately, I found out more from her sister about her sordid past in thirty minutes than I got from her in thirty days!

Also, I like hanging out with the guys and pretending I'm a level 6 Cleric/Swashbuckler/Pirate Half-Elf while sucking down copius quantities of Mt. Dew.  Conversely, blowing up my cellphone with calls Or sending her friends down to pull me away I enjoy the very least.

...That's fuckin' bogus...dumb slut!

I can't really elaborate about things, mainly because I'll get so pissed I may blackout and start whomping on fools out of general principle.  Let's just say that was a month of my life I'll never, ever get back.

But there is a happy ending.  There's this chick that's into me but I don't have the time or energy to put her through "The Trials" but she is being inspected throughly, can't say whether or not I'll keep her around but she's worth a whirl... her butt ain't bad either.  Doesn't whine, emotionally distant to a feminine extent which is good because in my experience, having me around is like owning a house cat (see:  transient and mysterious)...

...also, red hair, green eyes, great rack, nice butt... I really don't see a problem here in that department.  But drama will ensue if I don't give a proper pre-flight inspection.  Because I guarantee if this bitch has issues, and I say this with much seriousness after the fact that almost every woman I've had a relationship with has been crazy, then she's getting an ass-whuppin from hell.  It's great that she's into me and all, but if I have to deal with another Lunatic Lupe or Psychotic Penelope I don't know what the fuck I'll do short of killing someone.  I'm so fucking pissed after this last go-round with Subject Three since yet a-fucking-nother loco bitch slipped under my radar I can't stand it.

So remember ladies, if you're a lunatic, stay the ever-living fuck away from me or fake being sane...works for me...

PBWY,
Rev. Smooth

Figure Four!  Woo!

A Crappin Good Time

This is a review of current events for as of late, gotta keep you informed.  Because if indeed you were, you wouldn't be reading this malarkey.

...consider this "public service"

Okay so I'm driving down Route 30, listening to the radio when I was privy to some more exciting news about the grand state of Pennsylvania's school system.  Turns out the cool kids still do go to the principal's office everyday... to get their meth fix...

...please bear with me

So it turns out a high school principal was in the possesion and distribution of crystal methamphetamine, cause of death for millions of rednecks in the back of beyond.  This asshole is responsible for funding the death by comic book-style laboratory explosions of our "people of the land"

...you know, toothless broke morons

It may not seem like a big deal to you, and yes the world's probably a better place now that these livestock molesting, black people lynching characters have been blown to Kingdom Come but I digress.

So the police bust into the principal's house to find the normal shit:  meth/crack pipe, meth lab implements and the essential "mountain o' meth", then it gets a touch off.  Dig this:  This crazy motherfucker was found asshole naked in his basement with various homoerotic sex toys a-whackin it to rug burns with some gay porn on the TV.  Turns out homeboy had the big screen.

...the big screen, ladies and gents, the BIG SCREEN!

Come the fuck on, ya douchebag!  Give us a fucking break if you expect us to believe you didn't realize how pathetic you were.  Exhibit A:  You figured you had prime clientele and could "get 'em early" by selling meth IN YOUR FUCKING SCHOOL like the brainfucked fucktard you are.  You knew the law would catch up to you sooner or later, you had to.

Because that's part of being a hustla caught up in the game, only two ways out:  death or prison.  Maybe you listened to some of those hustler rap CD's you confiscated from the kids and figured spendin' all night on tha' corner was a glamorous lifestyle.  I understand... you wanna be a Jay-Z or Juelz Santana, it's okay but remember Santana sez "ya can't be like us!"

...good thing you haven't any compunction to butt sex because you can have all the anal intrusion you want in there.  Probably what you were aiming for, too!

Also in PA, there was a school bomb threat in one of Pittsburgh's local high schools.  It was a big fucking deal, I mean getting blown the hell up really sucks.  Not as intense as gay drug dealing school principals, but it is that intense to me and this is MY update so shut your candy-ass man-pleaser because I'm talkin'.

See when I was a kid, we didn't have bomb threats, we had shootings.  That's right, we had kids who would roll up Col. John Matrix-style and start blasting fools right and left like motherfucking Wolfenstein 3D for the SNES.  Yes, those were the days, we didn't get no fucking days off, no one had the common sense to call in a bomb threat to get a day off because they couldn't deal with the kids a-pickin' on them.  It was like the cold fucking war... we lived in fear that some dork-assed kid would come in one day with his gay lover like in "elephant" and peel our little caps backwards.  That pissed me off soo bad when I was in high school, I didn't want to go out like a lame and get my head turned into a hot pocket by a hot rocket.  Now some roody-poo ass-bandit kid calls a bomb threat and you jump, fuck that.  Our school, hell no they would say "prove it, you little punk or your ass is getting fucking detention!  You better be packing C-mothafuckin-4 cocksucker, cause I got my .357, my deer/black people rifle and my ass-kickin' boots tied on tight because that's how we roll in the south, bitch!"

...okay, angry nonsensical rant over...

Well, that's the state of the Commonwealth... and to think Pittsburgh was voted "Most Liveable City" by Rand McNally.  So y'all have a good one, I've got beer to drink and y'all suckas stank!

-Rev. VS