Big, Huge Smelly Dump.

…… well, at the time, your Reverend was wishing that it was big and huge, but, alas, it was not to be. Read on, mah peeps.

Last Sunday, we were in very polite company. We belong to a family social group that meets every month or so for various activities at one or another’s house. This time it was dinner at someone’s house and then a number of rounds of Bingo.

The food was great. Some salad, some barbeque, a great sauce and great potatoes, just the way I like them ……. small and brown, just like my women.

Desert was even better, lots of tubs of ice cream. So I tucked into that big time. The only problem was that I forgot that recently I seem to have developed a bit of an issue with lactose intolerance. (As you will see, dear Reader, I dunno about lactose intolerance, but my ass wasn’t very tolerant of something, let me tell you !!)

Anyway, I downed the ice cream in record time. Lovely stuff. We then went back to playing bingo. There were about 20 people there, a mixture of adults and kids. As time went on, I noticed that my stomach was starting to gurgle and I was getting quite gassy. But at that point, it was fairly easy to control. I just told myself that it would be over in 30 minutes and we’d be back on the short trip back home. Altering my position in the chair seemed to be working wonders.

But then nothing was working. I was getting seriously gassy and worried that I couldn’t hold it in. For the final time, I altered my position in my chair.

This time it didn’t work.

I tapped my wife on the shoulder (yes, your Reverend has a wife) and asked where the toilet was. She had no idea. So, in a split second I decided that needed to take my destiny into my own hands. I got up and walked around the corner, figuring that there was a toilet close by on the ground floor. As soon as I got around the corner and out of sight of the others, I started to run.

I was in luck. A toilet-looking door stood right in front of me.

I went in, locked the door, and undid my Cardinal vestments.

That’s when the problems started.

I realized that outside in the living room everyone was deathly quiet. However, I could hear the calls of the bingo numbers quite clearly. The problem was that if I could hear them, they could hear me.

Problem.

So there I was. Sitting there. Alone. A gut-busting botty-burp in the offing.

What’s a Reverend to do ?

Well, desperate situations deserve desperate actions. So I took life into my own hands, so to speak.

<<<<< section deleted for the sake of decency >>>>>

I got to the point where I felt that it was safe to get off the pot. Relief swept through me. I turned around, pulled the flush and went about restoring my Cardinal vestments to their former glory.

The only problem was that the flushing didn’t work. Everything was swirling around in the toilet and getting ever-closer to the top. With a mad dash, I grabbed the plunger (concertina type) next to the toilet and started to frantically plunge away. It seemed to work somewhat, but with every plunge water was splashing onto the floor. I kept on plunging for 10 minutes but nothing was working. At least twice, there were calls of BINGO outside and loud cheers, which enabled me to plunge extra hard because the sploshing sounds wouldn’t be heard.

I figured that I had to get help. I wanted one of them standard rubber plungers. They always worked. But to get one of those, I had to go outside. By that time, the lower half of my jeans were wet and small pieces of toilet paper were all over my shoes.

I cleaned up as best as I could and went outside, approached the hostess and told her that there was an “issue” with her facilities. She cringed, I went red and cringed, she said there had always been a problem and that there was a standard plunger in the cupboard under the sink.

Back I went and looked in the cupboard under the sink. True to her word, the instrument-de-plunge was there. I took it and started to go to town on my plunging. By this time, I didn’t care about who heard what. I fielded a bunch of knocks on the door from kids who wanted to take a leak, but my need was greater than theirs, so I denied their requests and kept on plunging.

Another 10 minutes went by and nothing was working. By this time, the water in the pot had lowered and made me think that its level of repose had been reached. A successful flush might be possible, I thought. However, I realized that if I was wrong, then the toilet would overflow and I would be in even worse shit (so to speak). I decided that the only course of action was to clean up as best as I could (by now the floor was soaked) and leave as graciously as possible.

Four toilet rolls later, I opened the door of the bathroom and left, joined my wife, apologized to the hostess and, hoping she hadn’t noticed the toilet roll specks on my shoes and jeans, left the establishment.

….. Ouch.

Strewth

Your ever-luvin' Rev has redsigned his site. Looking good !!

Reverend Locks and 700 Women ? It Must Be Blog 'Er

My fans, my peeps: Tis I, your fearless bald one. Anyone miss me ? Anyone notice ?

Last time we met, it was 2005. How is the new year treating you all ? I'm in a small room with 700 women in San Jose. Yes I'm at Blog 'Er, a conference with women, for women, all about women. And yours truly. I can smell the estrogen. Phew.

Right now I'm sitting in the first Saturday conference session. One of the speakers just suggested turning the mens room in to a womens room. She added the caviot that if anyone sees a man wanting to pee, then let him pee. Damn straight. Me, I'm using the bushes outside the foyer when I get called short.

Oh well, I do feel at home here. I've already seen lots of ladies wearing sandals and I'd hazard a guess that there's a significant Janis Ian following.

So here's the challenge: I want to see how many Blog 'Er attendees notice this site and post something. Be witty, be creative, be bright. Just like me.

..... As always, I remain, your Reverend Lock.

Reverend Locks and the California Department of Motor Vehicles

The good Reverend recently received a missive from his sister-in-law (not a reverend) which was deemed worthy of reproduction herein:

2005 CALIFORNIA DRIVER'S LICENSE APPLICATION

Name: ___________________ Stage Name: __________________ Agent: ___________________ Attorney: ____________________ Therapist's Name: _________________

Sex: [ ] Male [ ] Female*[ ] Formerly Male [ ] Formerly Female [ ]Both

*If female, indicate breast implant size: _______ Will the size of your implants hinder your ability to safely operate a motor vehicle in any way? [ ] Yes [ ] No

Please list brand of cell phone: ________. If you don't own a cell phone, please explain why you don't: ______________________________________________
(Use extra pages, if necessary)

Please check hair color:
Females: [ ] Blonde [ ] Platinum Blonde
Teenagers: [ ] Red [ ] Orange [ ] Green [ ] Purple [ ] Blue [ ] Skinhead [ ] Other ___________

Please check activities you perform while driving: (Check all that apply)
[ ] Eating
[ ] Drinking Starbucks coffee
[ ] Applying make-up
[ ] Shaving (male or female)
[X] Talking on the phone (already checked for your convenience)
[ ] Lifting weights
[ ] Slapping kids in the back-seat
[ ] Applying cellulite treatment to thighs
[ ] Tanning
[ ] Snorting cocaine
[ ] Watching TV
[ ] Reading Variety
[ ] Surfing the net via laptop
[ ] Discharging firearms / reloading

Please indicate how many times, while driving, you expect to:
[ ] a) Shoot at other drivers ___
[ ] b) Be shot at ___

If you are the victim of a carjacking, you should immediately:
[ ] a) Call the police to report the crime.
[ ] b) Call Channel 9 News to report the crime, then watch your car on the news in a high- speed chase.
[ ] c) Call your attorney and discuss lawsuit against cellular phone company for your 911 call not going through.
[ ] d) Call your therapist.

In the event of an earthquake, you should:
[ ] a) Stop your car.
[ ] b) Keep driving and hope for the best.
[ ] c) Immediately use your cell phone to call all loved ones.
[ ] d) Pull out your video camera and obtain footage for Channel 9.

In the instance of rain, you should:
[ ] a) Never drive over 5 MPH.
[ ] b) Drive twice as fast as usual.
[ ] c) You're not sure what "rain" is.

Please indicate your current number of therapy sessions per week: ________

Are you presently taking any of the following medications?
[ ] a) Prozac
[ ] b) Zovirax
[ ] c) Lithium
[ ] d) Zanax
[ ] e) Valium
[ ] f) Medical pot
[ ] g) Zoloft
[ ] h) All of the above
[ ] i) None of the above*

*If none, please explain: __________________.

Length of daily commute:
[ ] a) Less than 1 hour*
[ ] b) 1 hour
[ ] c) 2 hours
[ ] d) 3 hours
[ ] e) 4 hours or more

*If less than 1 hour, please explain: ____________________.

When stopped by police, you should:
[ ] a) Pull over and have your driver's license and insurance form ready.
[ ] b) Try to outrun them by driving the wrong way on the freeway.
[ ] c) Have your video camera ready and provoke them to attack, thus ensuring yourself of a hefty lawsuit profit.

When you see a woman driver with her arm extended out the window, it means:
[ ] a) Her turn-signals are broken.
[ ] b) She is giving an indication she intends to change lanes.
[ ] c) She is drying her nails.

Which part of your car will wear out first?
[ ] a) The wiper blades
[ ] b) The seat belts
[ ] c) The horn

Automatic door locks are good for:
[ ] a) Security
[ ] b) Convenience
[ ] c) Messing with the heads of people trying to get in.

The "bright" setting on your headlights is for:
[ ] a) Dark, poorly lit roads
[ ] b) Flashing to get the car ahead to move out of the way
[ ] c) Revenge

Do you read English or Spanish?
[ ] Yes
[ ] No
[ ] Don't know

Do you recognize and understand any road signs other than McDonalds and Denny's?
[ ] Yes
[ ] No

Has pot been legalized in California?
[ ] Yes
[ ] No
[ ] Don't know
[ ] Don't care

Do you prefer cars with the turn signal factory pre-set for
[ ] left
[ ] right
[ ] off

Are your mirrors adjusted for
[ ] checking make-up
[ ] checking the kids in the back seat
[ ] your bald rear tires
[ ] missing

If you see an old sneaker on the freeway, do you
[ ] slam on the brakes and hope you can sue the turkeys who rear-end you
[ ] swerve to nail it with your tire
[ ] both

If you are over the age of 75, you do not have to complete this test, you are entitled to drive even if you cannot see, hear, or move.

Pus-ee Big Toe (PBT)

My fans, my peeps, my hommies, you've all been clamoring for new offerings from the Revster for such a long time that I have to indulge you. Did you miss me ? I did.

Now, I know what you're all thinking ....... the title of this post actually relates to my big toe that suffered an unfortunate accident and started to ooze PUS. Lots of f-ing PUS. Yellow pus with red blebs in it. PUS, the production of which was exacerbated by constant accidental hitting by (in no order of preference), my daughter, my niece and myself.

But the Reverend digresses.

I hurt my toe walking down the garden path just over a month ago. I was barefoot and gashed it on something. A few gallons of blood were spilled, but, being the man that I am, I ignored it for weeks knowing (woman translation = being an idiot) that it would get better.

It didn't. But during the time I was hoping it would get better I walked over Alaska, Washington state, Oregon and northern California. At the end of the walking, and upon my return to sunny SoCal I got worried and consulted a doctor who, as she stated, was an expert in the fixing of pus-ee toes. She injected something in my ass and, lo and behold, my toe felt a lot better within hours. What the connection is between my ass and my bog toe (pus-ee) I'll never know. Anyway, a 2-week dose of high strength industrial-strength anti-biotics kicked the pus to oblivion.

And thus it was as it came to be - the ecumenical toe is restored to its prior glory.

Essentially Yours:

..... Reverend Lock (available for births, marriages and deaths).


P.S. Am I a cult yet ?

Pope Benedict XVI

As a fellow man of the cloth, I feel compelled to offer my hearty congratulations to the new Pope.

He's come so far. From a humble beginning as a bit-player on NBC's "Cheers" to a recurring character in the "Toy Story" movies, I take off my ecumenical hat to Cardinal John Ratzenberger.

As always I remain,

Your Reverend Locks.

Homework

While in Britain, my brother, KingBaldy, said that my blog posts were so infrequent that when I actually did do a post it was like a kid being forced to do his homework.

I agree. I'm not like my post-a-minute wife.

In the meantime, here's what I wrote in detention::

I will write a blog post every day.
I will write a blog post every day.
I will write a blog post every day.
I will write a blog post every day.
I will write a blog post every day.
I will write a blog post every day.
I will write a blog post every day.
I will write a blog post every day.
I will write a blog post every day.
I will write a blog post every day.

All Things Comfiest & Beautiful, the Reverend Locks Made Them All

Today's hymn may be found on page 25 of the Common Book of Prayer.

Things comfiest started with the designation of my daughter's pilllow (not bald) as "Comfiest Pillow" because of its soothing qualities. From that point on, certain things were bestowed with the designation of "comfiest" if they were of the highest quality.

Recently, we all went on a trip to my homeland, Great Britain, where the definition of "comfiest" was expanded to encompass extremes of quality,

For example,we now have "comfiest spring", "comfiest crack", "comfiest floor", and "comfiest iron lung".

All of these comfiest items reside at my parents house and relate to items from my childhood, at which time said items were truly comfy and were when I weighed a tenth of my current size (although not as heavy as my brother, KingBaldy ..... he's a king, I'm THE Reverend. Reverend's are senior to kings).

Anyway, the Reverend digresses.

Every time we go back to Britain, we sleep on two beds pushed togther. Comfiest crack separates the two and Donna, Megan (wife and daughter of Reverend Locks, respectively) and I all took it in turns to experience said crack. It was only towards the end of the trip that I figured out sleeping on Comfiest Floor was truly more comfy, and preferable.

Comfiest Spring resides in each bed and attached itself to each of our respective backs. Comfiest Iron Lung is the contraption given to my parents by my aunt. This is a collapsable chair that is made from the heaviest iron you can imagine, and which folds out into a "bed". Foam coverings are the mattress. It's joined together by a complex arrangement of hair-trigger springs (not comfiest) any of which would crush your lungs if they cared.

Anyway, all of the preceding is brought to you by the phase "Waste Not Want Not", my mum's favourite mantra. In simple terms, if it's less than 80 years old, it's still good.

But would I change any of it ? No. That's what makes returning to my homeland special.

Nourishment for the Masses

I'm baaaack !! Yes, it's true. The Revster is back amongst you spreading the joy and the Word. My fans (both of you), I've noticed your pleas for posts and I hereby indulge you. Read on.

I remain, as always, your Reverend Locks.

Forgive Me Father For I Have Sinned

It's true. I just applied to be an Ordained Minister in the Universal Life Church based in Modesto, California. It becomes offical in a few days. I will be a man of the cloth.

Hmmmm ...... How about Reverend BaldiLocks ? Pastor Locks ? Vicar Locks ? Deacon ? Deac ? Revy Baby ? Reverend BaldiLocks of Granada Hills ? Preacher Locks ? Father Locks. Revers. Reverino. The Rev Meister. The Revster. The Preachster. Preacherino. So many possibilities.

I'm going to get their Mini Clergy Package which lets me do baptisms. Hmmm ..... BaldiLocks the Baptist.

This is so cool.

...... Revered Locks.

Bald in the City

This was a great weekend. It's been raining forever here in Los Angeles, or at least it seems that way. But this weekend, the heavens parted and the sun came out to play.

Yesterday, we test drove a Honda Pilot. That's the new SUV I am going to buy I suppose. Just not totally thrilled by it. The bottom feeder car sales troll was thrilled though when I drove on to his parking lot. He oozed towards me and then started to yap. Very quickly I found out (ok, he told me with no prodding) that he's been married and divorced twice already. No kidding. Scum bucket. He's enaged to some other woman already. A teacher. Has to be someone with incredibly low self-esteem. I am not judgemental. (What was Richard Nixon's quote exactly ?)

This afternoon, I was determined to get a walk in the park. 'Er Indoors suggested Chatsworth Park. This is in the hills just west of where we live. I've never been before. It was nice but was one of those "undiscovered gems" that clearly has been discovered by the local trash. Broken Budweiser glass was everywhere.

But then we stumbled on the Homestead Acre. This was a well-maintained museum showing off the local history of how the Chatsworth area was settled by the early homesteaders in the days of the Spanish land grants. This is a place I fully recommend, if only for the three wonderful docents (ours was 83 years old) who make it all come alive.

You can't get stuff like that anywhere else.

(Wasn't that cool how I put the punchline as its own one-sentence paragraph ?)

Oh well, it's back to the orrifice in the morning. Back to to the grind.

It Must Have Been a Bet

Look at this

Pink Little Dome

On Friday last week, I was sitting at home reading my Daily Telegraph news on this internet after a hard day at the orifice. Glass of wine (large) in one hand and typing with the other. All of a sudden, I heard some roosters outside start to warble. I thought I'd fixed those bastards months ago when I called Animal Control on their poultry assess. Obviously not, otherwise I would have been hearing silence. Anyway, I heard the roosters and got upset, stood up too quickly and whacked the top of my bald palatial acreage on the underside of the armoir within which my laptop is located. The result is a large, Gorbachev-like dark gash across the top of my head which contrasts strongly with the pink color that is my undamaged flesh.

One of the people in my office today remarked, "Oh Bubba .....", (I'm known as "Bubba" to my hommies), "..... what on earth did you do to your Pink Little Dome ?".

BaldiBlog Goes Fancy

I got a BlogRoll and put it in the lower portion of the sidebar. Go check it out.

Am I a Cult Yet ?

Anyone care to comment, or should I quit while I'm still behind ?

My Wife Made Me Do This

She got some questionnaire that she religeously filled out. I did the same, not religeously.

1. Song that sounds like happy feels:

“California Dreaming” by The Mama’s and The Papas.

I’ve been over in the US of A for 20 years. Bald the whole time. Before I came over, but when I knew I was coming, I had this impression of what it was like to be in California. That impression was driving in a 70’s gas guzzler down the highway, windows open, the wind blowing in and the sun shining, and with a song playing. That song was “California Dreaming”. When I got here, I did get a 1974 Plymouth Satellite and one of the first things I did just before getting pulled over for doing 110mph on the US 101 in King City was sing along to “California Dreaming”. I was happy. Then I got pulled over and fined $276. That was north-bound on Friday. I got pulled over in the same spot the following Sunday going south-bound for the same reason. The moral of the story: don’t sing and drive.


2. Earliest memory:

Propped in a high chair in my parents living room on a summer’s day watching TV. Not bald. There was some show on I loved – “Down by the River” or something. A frog was involved. I like frogs. The curtains were drawn and my mum was in the garden. Must have been small, young. It’s a very vivid memory, one I never forgot. The other early memory I have is when my brother was born and he was lying in the crib in my parents bedroom. I am 2.5 years older than him, so I must have been 2.5 years old at the time. Wow. I scare myself.


3. Last CD you bought:

That Elvis Costello one where he sung the classics. Didn’t work though. The needle kept skating across the surface when I tried to play it.


4. Reminds you of school:

Elementary School: Must be an American questionnaire. I never went to elementary school. But I did go to infants school and junior school. What reminds me of them ? Any old building here in California. My junior school was built in 1897 and was, and is, considered expendable if another building would ever be suggested in its place. But here in California, such a building would be an historic monument and protected as such. Whenever people talk about “old” buildings in California, I always talk about my junior school.

High School: Brits have high schools also. No indignation here. What reminds me of high school ? Jumping off cupboards with an umbrella. This usually comes up during polite conversation and I relate how, back then, I was a bit of a clown and my friends would always get a kick out of me doing this.

College:

Nothing really reminds me of college. It was unremarkable. I had a good time and lots of things happened, but nothing happens these days that makes me think, “hmmm, that was just back in college when ……”.


5. Total music files on your PC:

None. They are all copied over to CD’s.


6. Song for listening to repeatedly when depressed:

I don’t get depressed. And if I did, I don’t believe in making it worse. A woman must have written this question.


7. Song that sounds British, but isn't:

What ? Something poppy I suppose. That Nils Lofgren thing. I dunno the name. Any guesses ?


8. Song you love, band you hate:

Song: “Jesse” by Janis Ian ! Hated Band: That dipstick off Led Zeplin, Jimmy Page. He just looks weird. There, I said it.


9. A favorite song from the past that took ages to track down:

“It’ll be lonely this Christmas” by Mudd.


10. Bought the album for one good song:

I have the capability of doing this, and have done it many times, but to answer this question would involve getting off my ass (not bald, I hasten to add) and reviewing my CD collection. I’ll get back to you on this one.


11. Worst Song to Get Stuck in your Head:

“Can’t get it out of my head” by Electric Light Orchestra. Pablum and banal.


12. Best song to dump a beer on someone's head to, then storm out of the bar?

Again, a woman wrote this question. Real men don’t storm out of bars like nancies.


13. Who should do this next?

Beats me. I dunno any other bloggers. Live long and prosper.

My Boyfriend is a Twat

Heck, another post and nothing to do with baldness. And no, I haven't gone gay on y'all.

You have to see this site, "My Boyfriend is a Twat", it knocks my socks off and comes from a refreshing corner of the world where bluntness is celebrated. Certainly great for me to read, being someone who came from Britain 20 years ago to live in this very politically correct world (Los Angeles) where every comment I make (usually at work) has to be watered down. The world would be a simpler place if we could just say what we think.

I return you to your regularly scheduled program, currently in progress.

Blogging Brits

I just found Blogging Brits. You have to try it.

BritBlog

In addition to being Bald, I'm also British, Welsh in particular. Who would have thought. So try this:

'Er Indoors

She's got a blog and thinks it's pretty spiffy. Go check it out. Nothing about being folically challenged. How wude.