At times, more painfull than childbirth, so i am told.
I told them that to hell with them, i woud be coming in ALONE--and that Granfather woud have to fend for himself. My dad said that Granfather will starve, and i said NO HE WONT STARVE--i will leave plenty of whiskey, pork jerky, Snackables and Lunchables, Fiber-Con and even a whole lot of Tender Vittles foil packs for him to eat. And mabye if we were lucky, he woudnt starve to death AT ALL, but because the drain of that tub is stopped, insted hed drown in his own waste. THAT'LL teach him to get his nut nabbed in a niche. Stupid bastord.
I slammed the phone down. Granfather, who had lurched the rolling basin into the othor room, was making his cackling laugh, cruelly mocking me. He kept yelling, "HEY BOY! LOOK! LOOKY HERE!"
I did not give him the sattisfaction of looking, but because I was currious of what he was going to do (and figoured eventualy YOU woud be too), I did see his refflection in a picture frame we have where i looked closeley and was able to see Granfather cletch his teeth, set his jaw, close his eyes and force out one of his massive stinky farts. The sound was like those sprey cans horns you hear at the football game, if you had takken one in each hand and placed it ovor your ears and pressed hard. (Except that insted of the B Flat note they make, it was more of an A Sharp).
"GIT THE EPOXY!" Granfather snapped, as burning bits of smokey flotsam fluttored to the ground. "MY LITTLE AIR COOKY DONE BLOWED A HAIRLINE CRACK IN THIS HERE TUB, WHUT'S MAKIN' A PINCH ON MY ASS MEAT!"
There was a phone message on the answering machene, and though my ears were still ringing and I coud barely hear it, it was the man from that company that is thinking of hiring me, who i met with at Internet World.
Well, in ten minuts I called back, and GEUSS WHAT: He wanted to talk to me AND Granfather.
Even though my they hate the old troll's guts even worse than I do, for a long time my brother and my sister inlaw had somthing in common with Granfather; Theyve alwayes been upset with my hompage. My pubblishing of family problems is a suorce of enbarassment for them.
And now, they want to do a seperrate site which is THIER view of everything!! They cannot stop me from putting up MY website, so i canot realley stop them from putting up theirs. Their cartoon site will be ad sponsored. Mysister in law is learning HTML too. And with the blessing of the beast THEYVE ALREADY COPYWRITED THE CHARACTOR OF GRANFATHER!!
Well there are a couple of things that have to be figoured out first, (and i ask you to please forgive yet a third use of bullit points on the third screen of this update):
The way it ended up, I got olny 10% of prospective reveneu. Well, frankley I DO need the money. Plus he told me they werent obbligated to give me ANY of it, being that he was already dealing with Granfather, whose life is alredy famous enough.
#1: I will not be involved AT ALL in cartoons. I wont write them. And ill tell you rihgt now, i probly wont look at them neithor. But dont worry--i will post the URL for all of you who want to look at them. And i wont blame you if you do. #2: Even still i demanded that i get 20% of all revennue from ads on THIER cartoon site. #3: We made a rule: Aneyone who draws the cartoons must NEVER see me or Granfather in person, or even a photo of us--the artists must rendor ALL cartoons based on the descritpions in my homepage. This will ensure that he is illustrated in a way that is accurratly disgusting, yet is not portrayed realistically enough as to cause widespread panic, mayhem, and First Amendmant disputes. YES, he is THAT horroble looking, (and he smells even worse). #4: I must nevor have to work directley with the bastord, or my sisterinlaw. #5: As you know I am looking for a new place to host the pages you are reading right now. If hired, I get to put a mirror site of my current homepage on THIER servers, that they have to host for me for free. I dont need a fancy URL--They can put it under an "/~employee/" directory, i do not care. And also, if fired, i get to KEEP the mirror site.
"DONT FEEL BAD, BOY," Granfather grinned at me, tossing ovor to me the Febuary copy of The Web magazine with a covor story on cartoons. Also Interactivity had an articol on cartoons too, and it seems that toilet humor is "in" for '98. Just think abuot it: Both South Park and Spumco have dancing turd charactors. Yet i was arround first. (And i am the one who lives with the dancing turd factory.)
"'TOONS ARE HONKIN' BIG ON THE WEB," the 'turd factery' keeps saying.
I hate when Granfather tries to use new media words like 'toon.' He also uses the word 'Honkin' allot too, which is a word that only realy cool programmers and devellopers in Austin use, and also Compaq folks in Houston. Except he misuses the word ofton like this: "WHOO-EE, LOOKY AT THET HONKIN' BIG-ASS BOIL THAR ON MUH NECK."
After work when i went home I was NOT feeling very Christmasy.