Walter Miller's Homepage

Embellishment to say the least. (To say more, a pack of lies).

The Big Triple Update for May-June-July 2000

Page 10 of 26


It is like I am a battored husband

Yes, I went on anothor freakin date. I hated every minite of it. It was the worst kind of date, because it was with all her freinds. I am not a gregarious social person and so the whole time I was trapped at a small table in this roadhouse where we went for beers next to three othor small tables where all her freinds were clustered. They were all older than me. The danm biker chick had to be like, at least 7 years older than me, and all her freinds were in their 30s and 40s.

What hapened on our date

The roadhouse was playing country rock very very loud and the whole time she woud not stop pawing at me. She started out sittin next to me very very close but not in a romantic way. She was wearin a bare back halter and shorts and she kept rubbin her bare skin agianst me. Not in a gentle way, but like a tomcat marking up the furniture with his scent by rubbing himself on it extra hard in order to make up for the fact that for some reason hes not able to get a good piss going on the rug.

She was holdin both my hands tight with one of her hands and sort of petting my face with the othor. She likes to move her face real close so her nose is mashed agianst my cheek, and so, while stairing her steely blue unblinking eyes into mine, with low, firm, severe tones she can lecture me sternly about our rellationship.

I need my danm space

I remembor seeing once on CNN during the Gulf War when Yasir Arafat was in some dusty street market in Jordan or somplace cheering up some sobbing Iraqi eggplant vendors in exile. Arafat wandered thru the whole bunch of them petting and pulling and pressing himself into all their faces and beards. It was just like that exept the Psycho biker chick was much more possessive.

And I dont like her pettin my face. I have pimples and your not suposed to pet them cause it does not help them clear up.

The music was pounding so hard my lungs hurt. I was sitting on one of these flat, unconfortable stool chairs, the kind that had a seat like a small flat wooden supper plate. She is a thin womon all muscle like a panther. Sudenly she hopped her bony pointy ass up onto my lap.

I did not have time to "adjust" before she hopped, and she actualy more sneaked on my lap than hopped, like a squirrel on a birdfeeder, slipping one rugged buttcheek at a time till both were perched unconfortably on me and if you are a man you know what I am talkin about when I use the word, "ADJUST."

She faced away from me and bumped my nose with her bony back, and dug her sharp sandal heels deep into my shins to steaddy herself and called out to other people in the bar who she knew, "Yo! Whassup?"

I tried not to fall off the cheap tavern stool chair as I balanced my beer in one hand and gripped with the other her belly, so flat it was inverted, so she woudnt fall over, a hard musculor abdomen, rugged and knobby and ribbed like the vulcanized undersole of a brand new pair of hiking boots.

"Oh! I love this song!", she shreiked, as right infront of me the bony dorsal sharklike shouldor blades poking out of her skinny fleshless back like fintails on an old Caddy jabbed my face as she kicked to the music.

My lap began to grow numb. Looking down below at her bucking thrashing lower back, I saw right about where her halter top ended a sort of downy fur thatching down the length of her long knobby spine that grew thickor as it headed down toward crack land, and disapeared into the top of her low riding hip huggers near the top of a half hidden small furry rose tattoo. Somthing about it made me want to throw up.

Somhow I got up to take a whiz and as I stumboled to my feet and struggoled to stand steady as no blood had been flowing to my legs from her pointy boney ass on my lap having had cut off the flow of my femmoral arteries she sudenly hooked her musculor index finger into one of my belt loops, pulled me close and demmanded, "Where are you going, lover?"

This is sort of the way the whole date went. I dont want to write any more about it. I not only had to pay for the date I had to give her 18 bucks for the vitamins she acused me of stealin from her bathroom which I did NOT.

Dating sucks.

Aint that the truth. Oh, yeah, the kiss goodnight. OK I will tell you abuot that. Some womon are too heavy with the tounge. (Cathyann for example. Yuck). Othors are biters. They like to use allot of teeth. The psyco biker chick is a freakin vampire. It was only one kiss but it was endless. I made the mistake of opening my eyes for a second during the prolonged chewy downstretch and saw these giant veiny muscles flexing on the side of her head.

Driving home I began to think about Stu's advice. About going to her house to break her freakin windows. I was starting to think it was not so bad an idea. Me and Stu had to have anothor talk.

I did not go straight home

The psycho bikor chick lives, like 80 miles away, near Cyberblop. It was 1:30 AM when the date was over. Since the criptos were watching Granfather, I was all ready to go into work. The night watchman coud buzz me in. This way, I'd log into the network, send a few emails out, (so people woud THINK I was working late), and then freakin sleep on the floor of my cube till 8:00.

(Ive actualy done this sort of thing before. Its never done my career any good, but I supose its kept me from bein fired).

Just on a whim I drove past my brother's house. He actualy lives near my job. I wrote in my last update how my brother Spike and his wife and baby moved here from California. He came to Texas cause its cheaper to live but he made sure to be far enough away from GRANFATHER. So I went over there to sleep. Uncle Zeke's rental car was in the driveway. My brothor and sisterinlaw were pissed I came ovor so late cause I woke up the baby. But as long as they were awake my brothor told me that he posted bail for both Uncle William and Zeke. Considoring what a thief Granfather is, its quite an irony that they woud get arested for stealing from him.

Each time Uncle Zeke visits he gets arested. But it is usualy for atempted murder.

"Watch out for Zeke," Spike warned me, "His sleepwalking and his freqeunt urinating are both worse than ever. So far tonight he's pissed in the hamper twice, and once all over the Norfolk pine in the livingroom."

I coud not sleep well

Uncle Zeke's snoring was also prety bad, but what gave me the heebie jeebies all night was Uncle William, being hooked up to al those portoble machines. He was wheezing and whinnying all night. Uncle Will's skin is so pale and yellow too, like the color of a big tray of institutional-grade scramboled eggs left to fall apart and get soggy in the steam tray. He shoud of died years ago, but his hatred for Granfather and desire to get revenge agianst him is a stronger power than death itself. If you ever knew Granfather you coud understand this.

I leave for work Early