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Walter Miller's Homepage(TM)

Bigger than "TALL" and "GRANDE" but not quite "VENTI."

The Humilliatingly LATE Update covering Aogust, September and Octobor 2000

Page 8 of 39


"BWAH," the old basterd grunted at me at the othor end of the phone, "YOU GOTTA HEPP ME."

I replied, "I told you the Guiness people are not availabel...", but he cut me off.

"NAW, IT AIN'T THAT. IT'S MAH BROTHER ZEKE. HE'S BACK FROM VISITING WILLY IN THE HOSPITAL."

I said, "So what?" Granfather's face got dark and he now started to scream like a maniac, "MAH RECORD- BREAKING MIRACLE ISLAND OF FLOATING METAMUCIL IS AT RISK!"

The old basterd explianed that he did not want to tell Uncle Zeke about the world record. As far as dimwitted old Zeke was concerned this Magical Metamucil island was just annother unwashed glass sittin in the the kitchen of our messy trashy trailor.

"HE'S DONE SEEN ME STARING AT IT," Granfather howled, "AND IF ZEKEY FINDS OUT WHUT IT'S THERE FOR, , HE'LL TRY TO TIP THE GLASS OVER!"

I said to him, "Granfather, I dont know what to do but heres an idea: Invite Junior over for supper to distract him. Then mabye they can play cards. Uncle Zeke likes Junior."

The beastly old sideshow attraction was silent on the phone for a minite in thought. He coud not humble himself to say "GOOD IDEA," but instead mumbled, as if it was his OWN idea, "I SUPPOSE I'LL CALL OL' JUNIOR.

"TOGETHER, HIM AND ZEKE GOT A COMBINED I.Q. OF ABOUT ONE-POINT-FIVE.

"PERHAPS IF THEY BOUNCE THEIR STUPIDNESS OFF ONE ANOTHER, AN ATMOSPHERE OF DISTRACTION MIGHT DEVELOP WHUT ENDS UP KEEPING OLD ZEKE AWAY FROM MESSIN' UP MAH WORLD RECORD HOPES."

Granfather told me on my way home to pick up some snack food and drinks from the Mini Mart.

A secret plan: with a secret ingreedient

Zeke is a teetototollor which means he never drinks a drop of alchohol, But the old basterd had a plan in his small hard gnarled evil peach-pit sized of a brain.

"NOW, LISSEN UP BOY: BE SURE TO PICK UP A SIX PACK O'THAT NASTY OLE CLEAR STUFF WHUT TASTE LIKE WINDEX."

I said to him, "Granfather, you mean Zima? You cant get Zima anywhere arround here. They probly dont drink it even over in Austin no more."

"YEP, ZIMA, THAT'S THE STUFF. I REMEMBER ZEKE DRANKED ONE ONCE THINKIN' IT WERE SEVEN-UP. THE OLE SUMBITCH FELL RIGHT ASLEEP WITH HIS DANM EYES OPEN."

I said, "Granfather, I dont know if I can find it!" The old monster screammed at the top of his lungs. Or shoud I say gills.

"WE GOT A WORLD RECORD TO KEEP! AND ONE HALF A ZIMA PUTS OLE ZEKE TO SLEEP. AND I WANT MAH DUMBASS BROTHER ASLEEP, YOU HEAR ME, BWAH?" YOU PANSY! YOU FREAKIN' ASS DELICATE LITTLE PANSY!"

He started howling more abbusive epitaphs at me. I slammed the phone down on the old basterd. I was so pissed. If there is one thing I hate it is to becalled a 'Pansy.' Granfather had screamed it so loud it blasted in my ears. He is so mean and abusive too, despite the fact that I actually just came up with a helpfull idea for him. But there is no kindness where Granfather is concerned. A man who is so mean he will try to kill his own brother. Well, they have treid to kill him too I suppose. But Granfather atleast deserves it.

I was so mad and angry that I sat there upset and started breathing heavilly. Then I reallized it wasnt me, there was some heavy breathing behind me. I turned arround and there was Cathyann. She had a stern look on her face and was standin there with one hand on her hip and inpatiently tapping her foot. She was also suckin hard on a cigarette which you are not aloud to do here because Cyberblop has been since 1997 a Smoke Free Work Place.

I guesed Cathyann was pissed off at me for running off in the middel of her story. I asked her what she was doing here in the cube area since she rarely venturred out of the cafeteria where she worked. Tilde, the anoying little pain in the ass hovered half hiding behind a cubical wall, peering at me. She was hiding just enough so that I woud notice that she was there, but not so much as to appear like a nosy buttinsky pain in the ass. (I already KNEW why Tilde was there: She is a nosy buttinsky pain in the ass.)

I'm here to kick that Barry fella's ass," Cathyann said severely, still tappin her foot inpatiently so that now her big plump knee jiggled. "Now, WHAR is he? How DARE he give you such a hard time!"

I said to her, "Cathyann, this is not like you." She snorted back, "Oh yeah? Me and Tilde here just had a ladies pow-wow in the powder room. We decided you just cant fight your own battles. Ain't like its your fault, youre just the delicate sort. So here I am, Wally!"

I said to her, "A pow-wow? You mean a codependent training session." Tilde bit her lip and put her head down when i said this and said simpathetically, "Oh dear! I just can't help myself!"

I answored, "Well, mabye you coud if you stopped helping ME!"

I convinced Cathyann to leave Barry out of this. I also told her, that I HATE bein called "Wally." It is my most unfavorrite name in the world. How much do I hate it? I have been known to dump email if it is adressed to me with the word "Wally" in the subject feild.

"How long was you two standing there?" I asked.

"We heard Grampy ask to git you some Zima. Know whut, Wally--I mean Walter--just kidding! BWAHAHAHA! -- anyways, I done got five cases of it sittin' thar by mistake in the cafeteria fridge."

Cathyann told me how it got there. She ordered six or seven cases by misteak thinking it was a softdrink. But there is no alcohol alowed at Cyberblop. She coud not return it, so she reported it stolen.

"Then, to hide the evidence, me and DOOwayne came in on a Saturday and started puttin' them away. BWAHAHAHA!"

She kept yammoring

"I gotta tell y'all: I cant drink Zima no more. You ever git so sick on a drink it done come out yer nose? I'll tell y'all whut: I done did that with Southern Comfort when I was fifteen. Tastes like marigolds, that stuff does. Got so sick, the danm stuff done come up out of EVERY hole. BWAHAHAHA!!"

It is imposible to get rid of Cathyann when she gets like this.

I finaly changed the subject by askin if she coud spare any Zima for me.

"Hell, Walt, I'll bring it by tonight!"

I said, "No thanks I will bring it home."

The thoght of Cathyann coming over while the old basterd was in such a nervous state was scary. She is a big clomping clumsy girl and woud surely knock the Magicol Island of Floating Metamucil.

But she said anyway, "Nope, I insist. How's ol' Grampy doing? I got some nasty old jokes for him. I'll bring Momma over too. I always thoght them two woud hit it off if the room is dark enough and theyre both half drunk. BWAHAHAHA!"
BWAHAHAHA!"
BWAHAHAHA!"

Danm that pain in the ass Tilde

"Oh dear!" Tilde whimpered, "Can I come over too? I'll bake somthing tasty and low-fat!"

What a danm pain in the ass. I didnt say YES but my face said "No." I was sure she woud show up as well.

Sudenly my phone rang again. It was an internal call.

Deliveries: It is not fair

It was the nasty Cyberblop receptionnist. She screamed into the phone, "Incoming!" and then hung up. This meant that new hardware was being delivered. Here is the unfair part: Us people (who have to double as web programmors AND workstation support with NO extra pay), have the smallest office space.

There are six of us in one small cube bay which used to be one person's office.

Yet, even thuogh we have the least space, we have to hold and KEEP all the danm boxes. Do you know how big the box is that holds a 21 inch monitor?

In the whole cube area all the time there is packing materiol and crap everywhere. Plus they use those new enviromentaly-freindly packing peanuts that are biodegradable.

I dont know what the big deal is with biodegraddable. Alls the word means is, that at some point it is going to rot, and give off carbon gases. (and I already live with one of THOSE, thankyou very much.). Meanwhile if it is NONbiodeggradable alls it will do is sit there for a thousand years. They ought to take all the nonbiodegradoble stuff in the whole world and make a big flat mountain out of the stuff and let people live on top so they can avoid all these danm floods. In any case the new biodegradoble packing peanuts always atract cockroaches and besides that when they get wet they smell like goat crap.

Anyway when the receptioninst yells "Incoming!" whoever is in the cube area has to get up and move the danm boxes. Right now I was the ONLY person there.

I go down to get the boxes

Our stupid crappy companey has this dumb rule where all truck delivereis are to be dropped off in the reception area. We are still a small company of only, like, 100 people and once we get bigger, (yeah, right, THATS gonna happen), we will get a Receiving Department.

The way it is now it is MY job to cart them all around. I am not a danm mailroom worker, or a physicol labor grunt.

The guy driving the truck hollored at me.

He is not just some delivery guy. He is a anothor crony of one of the big bosses. He runs a computer store and Cyberblop buys all there stuff from him. (Believe me, our venture capitol investors are not getting any bargains from this guy). Also, Peaches once personaly GAVE this man permission to holler at me.

He is a Prema Donna

He will not unload the truck. I have to do it. Plus he will NOT hold the door for me.

Our Bar Code Door

All Cyberblop employees have a speciel small plastic Bar Code pass to get in the front door. It is the size of a Fig Newton and has a ring in one cornor that ataches to your keys. You are suposed to tap the barcode pass on this electric eye pad on the front door, and that is how the door opens.

The eyepad is bolted to the door at hip-level. It can read the BarCode right thruogh your pocket or purse. If you are good at it, the door will open like a supermarkat door as you walk through without even breaking stride. If you are bad at it, (or if you have a crappy Barcode Pass like me), the door wont open at all and every day you will smash your friggin nose into the glass.

And alls I asked the danm Prema Donna to do, was just STAND THERE and hold my key ring next to the door to open it. But he woud not. And so I had to strouggle while carrying the huge heavy boxes under my chin. In fact I allmost fell on the danm pavement while I tried again and agian, blindly to move my hips so as at to point my pants pocket at the Pass reader. Meanwhile stupid Peaches' creepy crony computer retailer friend just stood there on the curb watching me and laughin his danm ass off.

back in my cube

As soon I got back, my phone rang agian but of course there was no pleasant "Hello," or polite "How are you" at the other end, just the loud stentorian screamming of a deranged old semi-human primate reptile monster old basterd shouting: "THE SOYBEAN BALLS!"

I was silent. I did not know what the hell that meant.

"I DONE ATE ALL THEM SOYBEAN BALLS! FROM THE MINI-MART!! WITH IMITATION CAROB CHOCOLLATE AND DRIED YOGURT COATING!"

I said, "They werent soybean balls Granfather, but whole SOYBEANS." After a deadly silence of a few seconds he howled back, "WHOLE SOYBEANS? OH LORDY, NO!!!"

Granfather had a problem.