It dosent get any better than this. But it probly will get allot worse.
Page 6 of 6
A few hours lator on, the minister sent me an e-mail just to say that there are no hard feelings, and that he knows all too well that Granfather (in his words) is one of the more "difocult members of the flock." (Geez, and al this time I'd figoured he was only the proverbiol "Wolf in Snake's clothing".)
I wrote him an e-mail back asking him if he thoght that God loved Granfather. I got an answor back one minute later, because the minister hapenned to be logged in right then. He wrote back that he was prety sure the answor was YES.
I do not mean that he looked a little like me: This kid WAS me. And I know that he was lookin back at me shocked that he was in the presence of the white version of HIM.
Not that this bothered me. I just didnt want Granfather to be right about his twisted theories. (I also feared that somwhere out in this world, perhapps in the Bay Area, was this kid's grandfather.)
The ministor wrote me a e-mail back and said that Granfather is still wrong about the Celestial Muffin Tray beleif. And also that somtimes these things just happan.
Meanwhile, next to my bed and leaning directley beside and above me, the sagging poundage of the giant wall sized Fart Chart creaked and buckled and made tiny metallic popping noises, and vibratted from the loud sound of the Ted Koppol on TV in the othor room, and Granfather screaming at him, for whatevor reason. Finaly i drifted off to sleep.
I was awoken abuot 1:30 AM by an ovorpowering stench in the room. I felt the hard poke of his sharp gnarley, burl-like nails in my ribs. I rolled over and saw the bastord's evil lemon colored eyes stairing at me like 2 glow-in-the-dark wristwatch faces. WAKE UP, BOY he muttored.
I told Granfather that i did NOT want to talk abuot creation theologey with him anymore, and he said "THET AIN'T WHUT I COME IN FOR, DUMB-ASS."
"LISSEN UP, BOY. IF'N YOU WUZ STRANDED ON A DESERT ISLAND WITH SOME YOUNG SOFT GAL...AND YOU COUD CHOOSE WHICH ONE...WOUD IT BE NANCY KERIGIN, OR TONYA HARDING?"
I said harshly, (mabye a little too harschly), "Granfather I do NOT want to have this convorsation." But this did not stop him.
"BUT CRAZY IS GOOD! CRAZY IS SEXY! AIN'T IT? AIN'T IT, BOY?" I was too tired to respond. The bastord kept talking:
Next he babbled on how alls they woud ever talk about would be SKATING, SKATING, SKATING durin those endless hours sittin on the beach weaving them bamboo mats. Then Granfather's crusty slithory face crinkled into a green crocodilian grin.
"JUST IMAGINE BOTH THEM GRASS SKIRTS SCAMPERIN' UP THE PALM TREE TO FETCH YER BREAKFEST EACH MORNING: BUT YOU KIN ONLY PICK JUST ONE. KNOW WHUT? I PICK TONYA."
I was almost drifted off to sleep at this point, but finaly to shut him up from endlessly yelling at me, "WHO DO YOU PICK? WHO DO YOU PICK?", i do remembor tellin him that i might posibly pick Nancy Kerigan only because hopefully she had her silver medol with her, and we coud use it to flash a message off the sun to a ship or airplane that passed by. But othor than that, I JUST WASNT SURE.
Then he screamed at me at the top of his lungs with the cigarete cletched tight in his teeth,
"WELL, I CAIN'T FIGGER WHICH ONE I'M SURE OF NEITHER, AN' THET'S WHY I CAIN'T SLEEP, GARRLDAMMIT!" and as he wheeled himself away he muttored that I "wasnt thinkin like a man, i was thinkin like a wuss."
I know that in his bizzarre and twisted way, he was just trying to reach out to me and be my freind. Perhaps i shoud of been more undorstanding.
Well, i alredy went on the first date, and i guess I can say ONE thing about it, because it dosent have anything to do with the date itself--really two things.
The first thing hapenned while i was gettin dressed. That giant pimple on my forhead did NOT subside. As I stood in front of the mirrer combing my hair, i see Granfather's evil yellow eyes creep up behind me. In the flouresent light of the bathroom, his eyes take on this hideous hue, which is ecaxtly the same deep bright color as the little Turbo light on the Gateway PCs. Granfather grinned and pointed at the zit and said, "HEY BOY, YOU GOT A LIL' STRAWBERRY THERE." This is just what i needed to biuld my confidance.
Granfather was screaming because Sinbad the comedian was on Politicaly Incorrect with Bill Mahr AGAIN, and as you know whenevor Sinbad is on he always talks for like 80% of the show and never lets the othor geusts say anything, and this night Jennifer Flowers was on and Granfather REALY wanted to hear what she said. Or atleast see more of her on camera.