Walter Miller's Homepage

At times, more painfull than childbirth, so i am told.

Janaury 1998 Update

Page 3 of 6

WHY was i pissed?

Because my dad said that since Granpy coudnt travel, I woud have to stay here with him. Also, him and my stepmom woud NOT be coming in to visit, like they did on Thanskgiving. Partly it was because my stepmom cannot look at Granfather without getting sick, and also partly becuase my brothor and his wife have told them that they will NOT have Christmas with the family if the old bastord comes in. So, just like last year, the WHOLE FAMILY will all be in California for Christmas ECXEPT me and Granfather. AND IT IS NOT FAIR.

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.

The phone call ended badly

Everyones feelings seemed to of been considerred here: My brother and his wife. My folks. Granfather...
Everyone ECCEPT ME.

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).


Not only did the glass of the pictor frame shattor, (shattor from the sound), the shattorproof glass we had in the trailer windows (which we boght specificly to avoid this kind of problem) buckled in their frames and sprang off onto the floor because the weather caulking holding them in place bubbled and shrank from the smell. Veins sudenly apeared on the legs of our kitchen chaires and the chrome foil on it peeled and curled and flaked right beffore my eyes. Also a couple of Beany Babies that i was wrapping up as a Christmas pressent for my little nephew began to leap and quivvor and i got the hell out of the room as the beans inside started to pop like popcorn, exploading the small cheap collectible fad toys into an oblivion of synthettic fiber and burnt bean husks which filled the room in a swerling cloud of rancid gas.

"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.

Sneaky bastord

I told the man once more that I did NOT WANT cartoons done of my life. I woud be glad to work for him as a writer and programmor, but NOT as a cartoon charactor. The man told me that him and Granfather had been talking abuot cartoons on the side, (on the SLY, I woud say is more like it), and that GRANFATHER woud be the one working with him to do cartoons--along with a few othors.

Actualy THREE sneakey Bastords

I learned that my brother is leaving the Army reserves for good and him and my sisterinlaw are also involved with this SAME COMPANY. When I heard that, I looked at Granfather who was grinning at me like Satan. "MERRY CHRISTMAS, BOY. YOU WUZ GONNA FIND OUT SOONER OR LATER."

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 naturolly this REALLY upset me.

The man at the company told me that he wanted to hire both me AND my sisterinlaw to BOTH work for his company: Me and her as enployees to write copy and do programming, and mabye even do some othor creative prodjects, and my brother and Granfather as part time contractors to be 'creative consultents' on the cartoons, and mabye even do some writing themselves. He offored me like almost $16,000 a year and i asked him what her salarey woud be and he said it was NONE OF MY BUSINES.

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):

  • #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.

  • 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.

    My own bad luck

    I nevor wanted cartoons, but I geuss it serves me right: If I conduct a 2-year long continuol jihad agianst the old bastord, i shoudnt be supprized if he becomes well known too because of it.

    "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."

    Me and him both argued.

    The argument was abuot cartoons. The arguement ended when i saw him slowly raise and lowor the magazine in his lap up and down in my generol direction. He was fluffing somthing toword me. I got the bloodey hell out of there fast.

    Off to work

    aS YOU KNOW I AM A telecommuter for the Netly News which is based in New York city but once a week i go off to work in a satelite office here in Texas wich is a 4 hour drive away. Well dont you know they had told me they were goingto have the Christmas party on Friday, so I woud be sure to come in that day, but insted they secretly held it on Thurrsday.

    They did this on purpoce to humilliate me.

    And on the whiteboard in the conference room there was a drawing of what was clearley suposed to be me. I went to complain to my supervizor about both this AND the Christmes party and he turned aruond to go back in his office and closed the door on me WHILE I was talking to him. And when i got back to my office cube there was a whoopie cushion on my chair and a pile of Raisinetts undorneath it, (very funny), and also a peice of a Baby Ruth bar bobbling in my bottol of Spring water on my desk that in order to get it in someon must of had to take the cap off. You know why they did it too: cause it looks like a peice of poo.

    I complained agian

    And i was told that if didnt "Give It A Rest, Mr. Miller," they woud force me to be part of their Millinium Bug team. Or else (even worse) put me on a Diversity Task Force.

    After work when i went home I was NOT feeling very Christmasy.

    Forced to be festive

    When I came inside the trailor that night, Granfather was hollering and screamin at me. He was angrey because of the words i was saying to my family about not wanting to be with him for Christmas. Now he was cruelly pushing me around.

    Ho Ho Ho MY ASS.