Walter Miller's Homepage

The world's only website, where, back in '95 we woud of told you that we'd still be unprofitable in the Year 2000

The Big Triple Update for May-June-July 2000

Page 6 of 26

Actualy the Cripto's phone message said to send them an email because they are working out in the field. They were in Guatamala tracking down some other type of undiscovored species. I am glad then they're out in the feild because it distracts them from their obsession with the old basterd.

However, Granfather takes priority over all other Fortean animal mysteries. They imediatly wrote me back from their laptop connection in ther rain forest. They said theyll drive day and night from Guatamala nonstop to get here. It will take 2 days.

Madison, Ripke and Blanklenship have lost much of their goverment funding, and for two reasons. One, the fixation with basterd phenomena diverts them from other projects, and two, many of their wild claims about Granfather's phisiology are generally not believed. They have lost allot of credibillity. I must say, howevor, having lived with the old basterd for a couple of years, if anything they tone down the truth in their published reports.. Yes, Granfather truly is that horrifically disgousting.

I went back outside to assure Granpy that, "the Ghostbusters" as he calls them, were on their way.

My Cel phone rings.

I tell you the best thing i ever did was cancell my cel phone. It was Tilde, my anoying boss. The most anoying people in the world always call. Meanwhile I never give my number out.

Tilde as you know had her jaw wired shut for a few months in an awful ghastley Granfather related acident. The wires are off and she is making up for it by yammoring on more than ever.

Tilde tells me in her whiney way that I will now starting tomorow have to come into work every day -- Irregardless of my status as a stalking victim from the Psyco biker chick.

Boy this pissed me off. Tilde has this whimpory codependent way about her where she is over apologetic. (Sort of like me, I suppose). Anyway she told me that I am going on a speciel assignment with the Hercules Team. I shreiked, "The Hercules team!"

That is the worst team. It is headed by you will never guess who: That ass-kissor Peaches.


Granfather heard me on the phone talkin about "Hercules" and started makin fun of me. Greek gods are a sore point with me. Especialy Hercules. When I was a kid, maybe 8 or 9 I was suposed to do a book report on a Greek God. You may recall I wrote about this in anothor update. At the time Granfather was living breifly with my family in California.

I wanted to do my report on Zeus or Hercules but Granfather talked me into doing one on "Testaclees"--it rhymes with Hercules. Of course there is no such god. Yes, Granfather made up the name Testaclees.

The crafty old monstor created an elaborate plan just to houmilliate me. On the day he was suposed to take me to the library insted we went model car racing. Then, later that night, he told me about, "Testaclees, The little known God of Nuts." The old basterd then helped me write my book report, and when I read it in front of the class, I got in allot of trouble.

Going modol car racing and helping me with that book report was one of the few times the old basterd was ever nice and grandfathorly toword me. I shoud of known better than to trust the geezerly beast.


I told the old basterd to put a sock in it.

In the meantime I needed somone to watch Granfather

Yes, I had to go to work the next day. Granfather told me he didnt trust himself with that unexplianed popping growth on his head.


"WHY, IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT," said the old basterd omminously, as his crocodilian eyes crained upword to view the protrusion, "I'M SUCH A DAGNAB ALIEN FREAK, I COUD BE GIVING BIRTH FOR ALLS I KNOW."

Usualy Junior, our simple minded neighbor who lives in town comes and helps watch Granps but he was in the hospitol recuperating from a freak acident. (Come to think of it, since his being traumattized in my last update while beast-sitting, he was not only physicaly recuperating from a freak accident but mentally recuperating from a freak.)

So instead Granfather's girlfreind was staying over to watch him. She might as well, they are engaged to be maried.

Poor Junoir

About Junior's accident: He is fifty years old and shoud know better. It seems he is trying a new hobby, those remote controle Formula One race cars. Junior was learning to use the controls and somhow the little Formula One ended up chasing him around the driveway and as he ran away from it his finger held the lever down. It drove him into a small ornamentol plant cluster near the mailbox and as he fell in it a prickly pear spine sevored an artery in his ass. There were witnesses. It was big news in our small county. Thats all I know. In any event, this is why Granfather's odd little love interrest who he was now engaged to agreed to spend a few days at our place.

Regarding money: Granfather screws me agian

My freind Stu called me the next morning just as I was leavin for work. Stu is the Director of Marketing at work and one of my few freinds. He is the guy who looks like pig.

Stu was on a business trip in New York city and while he was there, he had a meeting on our special project: As you know Stu is one of the partners on the Walter Miller's(TM) Homepage: The Cartoon(R)

Stu had some disturbing news. It seems the old basterd, (who is also a partner, though a minor one), tried to license out some merchandise without askin the rest of the partners.

He is not aloud to do that. Fortunately Granfather has no authorrity to sign deals, but even still, the old basterd hired some packaging artists to come up with some proposed designs.

"Walter," Stu told me in a panicked porcine squeal, "Everything your grandfather came up with was crap. And it is WAY premature to pay for merchandise designs before the pilot is even sold."

"The other investors are pissed," Stu said, "Becase we still have to pay for the designs. We're sorry, but they decided the money has to come out of your future share, since you're responsible as Granfather's caretaker."

I was so pissed. Stu also told me that if the pilot for Walter Miller's(TM) Homepage: The Cartoon(R) is NOT sold, I will still have to pay anyway.

Stu then told me some of the old basterd's stupid licensed merchendise ideas:

What an idiot. And that last one is danm dangerous, cause it opens us all up to lawsuits: In case you dont know you are NOT SUPOSED TO LIGHT NOTHIN around Granfather after a big payload for atleast two hours. Unless you want the residual vapers to blow the friggin trailer up.

Also: Granfather keeps throwing his "voice"

As I wrote about in my last update, how Granfather has this disgoustingly ghastly ability throw his "voice" -- but not realy his voice, but instead his intestinal gas. I am very careful not to leave half filled cups of cofee and tea around the house, because he can make them vibrate and bubble from up to 20 feet away. Also he can make small pieces of paper catch aflame at a distance of five feet, and has even been experimenting with tryin to light my hair up.

This is what it is like living with Granfather: It is not just an abusive familly relationship. Imagine if Hell had a zoo. Now imnagine if all those animals were merged biologicaly into one horifically beastly creature. I SHARE A CAGE WITH THAT CREATURE.

In work the next day

It was an awful horroble day. I must of got hollered at, like ten times. Also, all my responsibilities with the Apollo team are expected to be carreid out just the same as my new ones with the Hercules Team. Meanwhile I am STILL STUCK in tech support. I deserve to be at least by now an Assistant Content Developer.

What my new Responsibilites are

I am in charge of the network. The WHOLE nettwork. Oh, we surely have a CTO, (a Corporate Technology Officor); but she dosent have anything to do with the network. She is only there as "investor padding" in the "Key Personell Biographies" section of the business plan. (Which means, she has a great resume, but is there only to squeeze more money out of potential investers.)

We also have a Corporate Infosystems Oficer, but he does not know how to turn on a computer. He works here only because he's a freind of the CEO. (Actualy he doesent work: Acording to task tracking software printouts, he plays Microsoft Hearts all day.)

And finaly, we have a Corporate Web Officer as well. He works out of his home in another state. else. Hes never been to our office but I did get an email from him once that said if anything bad ever hapens to the website that he is corporate officer over, it is MY fault.

How this stupid company is run.