Walter Miller's Homepage

The antidote to techno-pompousity.

Late April 1998 Update

Page 4 of 7

Not much went on the first week

Othor than allot of extra time spent driving, the first week at 'Cyberblop' was unevventful. I met the new staff. There is a mean surly guy in charge of Systems. The guy in chardge of Marketing is clueless. The guy in charge of "vision" never surfs the web and dosent even know how to turn a danm computer on. I think his job title is "Somthing-Somthing Evangelist." Othor job titles includde "Agitator" and "Prophet" and "Fire-Starter". These people actualy have these titles printed on there business cards. I asked the guy who is a Fire-startor what he actualy does, and he told me: "I start fires."

There is a girl here who insists on working barefoot. Anothor guy here reffuses to use e-mail becuase he finds it "demeaning." Plus there is a woman who is pretty high up in the orgonnization who yells at everryone. No reason: She just yells at evereyone. She is called The Lady Who Yells at Everyone.

What a danm bunch of losers. Howevor, This place is no diforent than any othor place i ever worked.

Plentey of events DID go on at home, though: Granfather and Uncle Zeke had a giant fight on Sunday.

It started becuase springtime is catalog season: Yes, all those danm mail ordor cattalogs come in the mail. (As you can imagine, Granfather keeps them all as "colectibles" in one of the sheds out back. He must have 20 thousend of them.)

One of his favorrites is the world fammous Johnson Smith cattalog, (that says on the covor: Things You Nevor Knew Existed(TM)!)". This catalog has allways had a nice variety of fart-and-toilet-humor-rellated-gag and joke items -- howevor this latest eddition has a whole doubol page spread of poo-poo products on pages 50 and 51. The bastord bought a set of 29 "Money Toilet Decals" for $19.98 which consists of rubborized coins, bills and even car keys which look pretty danm lifelike.

Each day without fail that Uncle Zeke stayed with us, Granfather woud place a few of these in the bowl, and my poor simple-minded uncle woud fall for the trick, and slowley and deliberatly stoop down from his enourmous ponderous height, and onto his massive knees to insert his giant hand in the glairing yellow pool of his youngor brother's unflushed crocodilian urine to fish out what turned out to be a FAKE nickol or dime. Much to his sputtoring anger aftorword.

I asked Granfather WHY he keeps doing it, becuase it CANT be funny to pull the same trick day after day. Granfather tole me that his hopes are that his danm brothor woud eithar have a stroke bending down or else trip and crack his jaw on the bowl. This is the misorable level of rellationship between these 2 old gents. And all of the problems can be traced to GRANFATHER's fault.

Granfater's favorrite catalog

Most of these catalogs are mailed to us unsollicited, howevor, Granfather is paranoid abbout being dropped from his very favorrite one of all, the Victoria's Secret Catalog.

The old bastord actualy orders somthing from it every year, just to stay on the mailing list.

"THERE AIN'T NO BETTER TOILET READIN' IN THE WORLD, YESSIREE" he allways says. The giant fight started when Granfather, in an attempt to acentuate the pot metal Duke of Windsor crown-shaped bumper atachment even more, was now wearing a ladies' blue cotton knit halter top that he ordered off of page 59 of the May '98 Victorria Secret Catalog. Boy, did Uncle Zeke get pissed when he saw THAT.


Zeke saw the covetted item around the bastord's neck, and plodded ovor and took a swing at him. But the two foot square sheet of enameled zinc on Granfather's face protected him. My Uncle cannot think of witty things to say on his own, but he did see a comercial for the new Odd Couple II movie, and so he said, just as Oscor Madison says in the comercial, "I May be old, but I can spit you to death."

Granfather narrowwed his red-pupiled kimodo-dragon eyes and said, "LET'S GIT IT ON: START SPITTIN'!!"

The match was ovor quickley

The zinc panel on the bastord's face was a better protection than you coud of immagined.


Revenge is sweared

With the skin on both of his long arms alreaddy peeling from chemicol burns asociated with repeatedly stickin his hands in Granfather's liqiud waste while fishin for fake coins, and now with his long sad face dripping with a mix of toxic saliva, tobbaco juice, venom and snot, Uncle Zeke swore that he woud make the old bastord pay for his crimes. He took two of his heart medocine pills, and plodded down toward the bathroom to wash himself off.

But before he coud even think of how to get even, Granfather does even more harm: He immediatly wheeled off into my room where Zeke had been sleeping these past weeks and took a giant dump rihgt in my Uncle's travel trunk.

Yes most people here in the 20th centurey pack their things in suitcases when they travol but my uncle uses a big clunky steamer trunk with heavey brass straps just like they did in the olden days. Its too bad too, becuase if it was just a danm siutcase then it woudnt of been big enuogh to hold Granfather's "creation."

I will not mention what it smelt like, becuase once again, words canot describe it. (Words however CAN describe what color it was, but I will decline from this descripttion as well, onley becuase you will not belive me if I told you.)

But I will tell you that it stunk bad enuogh to cause fifty years of all of those quaint old fashionned stickors on the outside of the luggage that say LONDON and ROME and BALTIMORE to imeddiatly shrivol and peel off, and not only that, all the brass rivits all up and down the straps encircoling the luggage shot off like shrapnell and started rickoshaying arround the room. The crap itself was the ecxact size, shape, and so help me, I sware it, also the WEIGHT of that giant peice of roof girder that fell off the ceiling of Yankee Staduim a few weeks ago that they kept showing on ESPN, while George Steinbrennor kept sayin, "Aw, it aint so bad."

But this thing that dropped off of Granfather WAS that bad.

"I'D SAY YOU GOT MORE'N JUST A STEAMER, BIG BROTHER," said the old bastord aftor the dust was settling. "SHE'S DURN WELL SMOKIN' TOO."

I coudnt see if the cruel troll was smiling becuase of the zinc dishwashor door panel on his face, but you know he was.


Yes you geussed it. Then I had the added hummiliation of being forced by my angry Uncle to haul the danm thing arround a five county area all the next day, to see if I coud find somone willing to repaire the frikkin floor of the trunk which was all melted. I COUD NOT.

A close call

Granfather is also mad at me from somthing that hapened on Monday. He allmost died and it was MY FAULT. Once again, I am a jerk.

How it hapenned.