I will spell right on the day that evveryone on the Web makkes a proffit.
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Uncle Zeke finaly calmed down, and after he took a leak we sat down at the kitchon table to eat some fresh fruit and cookies I bouhgt the other day. It is amazing: One minute they are screamming that they will kill each other. The next they will be talkin about somthing else very calmly. Oddley, in no time the two brothors were sharing a coupol of Jamacan cigars and some ice tea having a superficial yet totaly cordial convorsation about how good the Baltimore Orioiles did in the opening week of baseball and also gee-whizzing on all those Oscors Titanic won. My uncle lives by the shore but the closest big city to him is Baltomore. On visits, Granfather has been throuwn out of the old Baltomore stadium sevoral times, but never the brand new one.
"Why wuz your nasty ol' Granpap here an' not at the dentist? Tell me, boy!" he hissed. But I did not have an answor for him. He glowered at me with these large grey eyes which realy cant stare straihgt at you because they are both the sort of eyes that look in opossite directions. Just like that actor who played the proctollogist in the CannonBall Run films.
Granfather hung up the phone and said that Junior was coming by to drop off his bottom tooth plate which he left in Junior's car. (Oh, gross). I asked Granfather why he was late comin back from the dentist and the old gristly ogre barked at me "NONE O'YOUR DANM BUSINESS, BOY."
And then he leanned over and quickley dashed his evil claw into my shirtsleeve to pinch me VERY hard with his danm thumb and index fingornails right in the sensotive area which is below your armpit on your inside uppor arm, the part that never gets suntanned. You know how soft it is and how it hurts like hell. Abusive bastord.
As he tromped up our wobbly porch steps he mumbled to us somthing about, why is there an old Pontiac parked here with a dead albino newborn calf flopped ovor on the back seat: At least it looked like a dead albino newbourn calf, Junior said. Uncle Zeke's normaly dour glum eyes popped open like two dull grey freid eggs.
"Muh brother Willy! He's still in the Garsh Durn car!" he grunted, then pusshed his chair aside and stood up to his full hieght of six-foot-sevon which was not smart because the ceiling of our trailor is sixfoot-six. After banging his massive head he quickley regained balence and then plodded his big stooping long legs across the room to run outside. Granfather treid to trip him so he woud fall and his face woud smash into the cofee table as he lumbered by, but Zeke saw it coming and kicked the bastord hard in the shin as he passed. As Granfather howled in pain I ran outside too as Uncle Zeke pulled his tiny pale gasping dying brothor out of the hot car that had the windows rolled up where he was inside sweatting because he was wrapped in a blanket.
Speaking of the unfortunnately healthy old bastord, when Zeke came inside the trailor with his gasping wheezing brother in his arms, Granfather was holding his sore bleading shin with one hand and the portoble phone in the othor, and he hollared at them both saying that he was alredy speed dialing the sheriff as to have Zeke arested for atempted murder for locking poor Uncle Will in the hot car with the windows shut. Once more a giant altarcation and fight seemed like it woud happen.
After some cold compresses and a short nap in my room Uncle Williem was able to speak. He said that he wanted me to prop him up at the table to have some freshfruit and ice tea with his brothers. Like i said, in their silent hatred of Granfather the two visiting brothers were rathor civil as they sat there.
Granfather started the whole thing in a haughtey way by tellin them that i was "incapable of having male freinds due to a strong Sissy Factor" and that he had coght me earlier that day in a restauarant, in full view of the whole town having "A SISSY ASS, FAGGOTY TEA PARTY WITH HIS GIRLY FREINDS," and that i was the only man at the table, and a man-boy at that, and that my pinkey fingor was stickin out as I delicatly sipped my herbol decaffinatted tea from a fruity lookin teacup that had pink pansies on it while balancing a cream puff on my knee with a lace doiley.
Meanwhile Uncle Zeke didnt even say a word becuase this sort of thing realy disgusts him. Yes, he didnt belive my excuse either, and still belives somthin that is not true: That i am a sissy. Well danm it i am not.
I was so pissed off that I stomped off into my room and played DOOM on my computer while cranking the speakkers real loud. I actualy like playying Quake better, but the noises on DOOM are more disgussting and macho. Besides, i felt like shooting somthing.
Uncle Zeke walked by on his way to take anothor leak. He has problems with his prostrate and is allways peeing. He stuck his head in the door at the sound of the wild DOOM monster growls and said to me, "Them noises sound like yer Granmpa passing a stone."
My feelings were hurt becuase at one point i wanted to join the game but they said that no one else coud fit at the card tabble. Then when i sat on the couch they said I was blocking the TV. So I stomped back off to my room.
All the men seemed to be having a good time. There was one small argumment when CNN aired the story about how President Clinton ate a Catholic Communion wafer in that church in Africa when he wasnt suposed to, becuase he is a Baptist. None of us are eithor Cathollic or Babptist yet evoryone had an opinion about it. Granfather said they shoud leave Clintin alone because it was a honest misteak.
Uncle Will (who, along with Zeke is a Republicon, while Granfather is a Democrat), said that, "The President has no self controle around neither food nor big-haired wimmen," and also said that its no suprize he ate that Communnion wafor because, "A man like Clinton woud eat a danm peice of baloney tied on a stick right during the State of the Unoin Adress if somone so much as jiggled it in front of his fat bulb nose."
I was inside my room and I laughed at what he said and Granfathor hollered out, "YOU EAVESDROPPIN' ON US, BOY?"
Alls i wanted was to be part of the convorsattion. Moments of freindly accord in our family are about as common as Granfather bathing. (And lately, takking a crap). I know i shoudnt keep conplaining about myself and my feelings. I know I have to GET WITH IT and also get my life togethor and start being mature.
Sudenly Granfather made anothor awful giant fart. The whole trailor rumbled and cracked like it was made of Legos. Uncle Willaim shook with agony and looked like he was gonna die. Outside in the yard, prickley pear cactus pods exploaded like giant kernols of popcorn. As soon as the sonic boom disapeared in the distence, Granfather began hollering in frustrattion that he still coudnt go to the bathroom aftor all this time -- despite the fact that he sure as hell did have more than enuogh "fumes and percussion" coming out.
"I FEEL LIKE I SWALLERED THE DANM INTERNET," said the gassy old basterd. "ALL HYPE AND NO CONTENT."