I am typecast for life even before i ever made money off it. Danm.
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...I treid to bite my lip hard and ignore him but he kept it up. In fact he kept it up for a half hour, until exactly the point that I was able to tolorate it.
It is an evil, mind reading skill. And as soon as i coud tolorate it, he began something worse: This time he was saying, in the exact voice of Frances Ford Copola's daughtor at the end of Godfather Part III when she is shot by misteak by the assassin who can imitate the donkey: "Daddy?...Daddy?...Daddy?"
Ten minits of that allmost had me in tears. I woud of rather hed repeatted over and over the Donkey noise. Which if you saw Godfather Part III is the scairiest part of the film.
"Granfather, why do you do it?" I sobbed.
"CAUSE I'M MEAN AND I HATE YER GUTS."
I said to him that we had to seruoisly talk about our relationship. Somtimes it is hard for me to be confrontationol. So I treid to be as nice as I coud.
"I know you are hurting abuot what the doctor said," I told him. "About you not bein allowed to be with women. Mabye I can help you resist temptation..."
"WHICH REMINDS ME," he spat, "WHEN'S MUH NEXT IN-HOME VISIT FROM THET STANKEY BAREFOOT GUV'MINT FUNDED HEADSHRINK GAL FROM UP AUSTIN WAY WHUT DON'T WEAR A BRA?"
I said, "Granfather, you are not gettin the point."
"OH LOOKY," he said, pointing off the freeway, "BLOCKBUSTER VIDEO. GIT OFF AN' RENT OL' GRAMPY A FILM."
I repleid, "I want you to know...that I am there for you," I said with my voice gettin all quavory. I figoured that with the New Mellenium almost here, now we coud finaly take steps to patch up this shattored family relationship. I quickley wheeled my head back to see Granfather, still restratined in his seat, contorting himself as to position his butt agianst the back window. His pajama trousers and adult diapor were both off. His bare smelley ass was being showcased to othor motorists.
"Stop mooning people!" I yelled. Of course with Granfather the term makes the most sence bein that his cratered ass surface is exactley LIKE the moon.
"SERVES THEM RIGHT FER DRIVIN' AN IMPORT," gruffed the old basterd, "ANYONE WHO BUYS AN IMPORT DESERVES TO SEE THE FULL GLORY O'THE LIKES OF MAH ASS."
I hapened to notice that the car he was mooning right then was an Oldsmobile which was made in America. Granfather dosent give a crap abuot people buying imports. He just likes to be disgousting.
"PLEASE, BWAH. TURN THE CAR AROUND AND RENT GRANPY A TAPE AT BLOCKBUSTER. NOTHIN' WORSE THAN PG-13, I PROMISE."
I began to say "Are you even listening to what I'm sayin?" but insted he drowned me out with his yammering.
"RENT ME SOMTHIN' WITH JAMEY LEE CURTIS IN IT. WHY, I DO DECLARE, I THINK I'M IN THE MOOD FOR SOMTHIN' -- ANYTHIN' -- WITH JAMEY LEE CURTIS," and at the end of his sentence the old bastord made that lustfull drooly noise that Homer Simpson makes when he sees a box of doughnuts.
"Granfather, NO," I said.
"NOW THAR'S A WOMON WHO GOT IT ALL: NICE LEGS, PURTY VOICE, POUTY LIPS, AND THET BIG GIANT OL' FRANKENSTEIN SHAPE HEAD...
"AH TELL YOU, BWAH..."
Suddenly Granfather interupted himself. He became absolutly motionless.
"HOLD UP -- MISSILE PAYLOAD IN FIVE...FOUR...THREE..."
This meant a giant fart was coming. I looked in the rearveiw and saw he was straining himself. I said to him, "Granfather the doctor said your not suposed to force it out! You can hurt yourself!" but it was too late.
Too late to hold your breath, but you coudnt breathe for the next 20 seconds anyhow. Too late to open a window, becuase the one on the cardoor closest to him was blown out, showoring the faded freeway pavement below with the twinkling sound of a thuosand glistening grains of safety glass disapearing behind us.
Too late also to stop the car, but I did not haveto do that either becuase of the electricol impulse due to a strong sudden low pressure system inside the vehicle originating with Granp's ass and shakin the whole vehicol with flashing thundorbolts of energy which exploded in blue lightning as if we were inside the centor of a glass Tesla coil as these colapsed and bursted into white sparks that flew all arround us puffing my cheeks and eyelids out with G forces that finaly shorted out the alternater.
The wheel grew heavey in my hands as the powor steering was sapped away as the engine stalled. As the old auto coasted I guided it to a stop on the shouldor.
I woud call this particulor fart a Magnitude Six. Just to give you an idea what that means, the old basterd laid a Mag Three once in a parkin garage where my brother lives in L.A. while leaning his ass agianst a cement pillar and set of 74 car alarms.
Alls I can say is Thank God we drive an old 1970 Dogde Dart Swinger that dosent have no airbags to begin with. Now we were on the side of the road. We were still 30 miles from home and Granfather began agian angrilly thrashing in his mandatory seatbelt restraint. Plus he was whackin his head agianst the car window like the recently incarcerated somtimes do on the TV show 'COPS'.
I started cryin. I have been thru this a thoasand times. Please do not judge me for cryin. I cannot help it. He is an evil beast. Devilishley evil to be sure, but on the whole is probly more disgousting than he is evil. Though it is a verry close call.