Walter Miller's Homepage

It used to be that the artist had to suffer--now, thanks to this website, the reader does.

MID-Janaury 1998 Update

Page 1 of 5


Trapped inside of a 1970s era hot tub prison of seafoam green coloured concaive fiberglass by bein stuck at the bottom atached to the drain by a dellicate peice of his anatomy that got coght in it since way back in the middle of last Novembor, my cruel disgusting grandfather is NOW, THANK GOD, finaly free.

While his family is slowly healing from the truama of the ordeal, the bastord is resting confortobly, thanks. And so too, is the renegade genital. Right now Granfather in the othor room watching a program on the President and First Lady on C-Span muttoring to himself, "MISTER CLINTON SURE DOES ALWAYS GIT THE LAST WORD: AND ITS USUALY 'YES DEAR'."

One sad note

the sad note is that there was no permannent damage to the bastords body. Or ball.

Othor than being gnarled into a slightley fetal shape for a day or two after being freed, and a dry rot rash from some speciel sheepskin pillows that festored for too many weeks undor his boney ass which looks distinktively like someone took the cactusy top of a couple of spiny Joshau Trees and laid them on the freeway then drove a truck ovor it, my evil ancestor is sufforing no ill effects.

In fact he seems to have allot more energy too. Weve had some warm weathor mixed with the cold and so on ocasion during his testicular incarceration I had wheeled him out in the yard to get some sun. I woud say he is Tanned, Rested and Ready to Raise more Hell. Well, tanned atleast on one side: You cant flip on your belly with your gland glued down.

Even still with the increassed vigor, I am very glad he is unstuck. The whole thing was begining to be a prolonged houmiliation for me and my family. But not of cource, for HIM. Yes, our fammily just dosent suffor from insannity. In the case of Granfather, some of us enjoy it with great rellish.

How it hapenned that he got unstuck

Granfathor's gonadal disengagement was commenced on his part, was done on purpose, and was very clearley and directley related to the Windows 95 computor Operating System of the Microsoft(TM) Corporration. More on that in a bit.

First, the evvents leading up to his freedom

Granps can live without food. He can live withuot water. Withuot air, too, at least longor than we can, thanks to his vestigol anearobic breathing complex, complete with rudementery gills. He can live withuot human contact, (though barely human he is.) God knows hes been living without SOAP for most of the last half-century, (though it seems like sevoral millenia, if you want gage it by how bad he smells.)

But othor than tobacco, ilicit relations, alchohol, salt, and a need to mentaly and physicoly tourture his fellow man, as of the past few years Granfather cannot live WITHUOT GETTING ON THE INTERNET.

It all started on the 2nd or 3th day aftor being coght in the drain. His hollering was so loud that he had to "check his e-mail" that i finaly wired the beast to an old 486 laptop i dont use no more. I lashed it to the soap dish tray and ran an extention cord out of a jet hole. Then because he kept complaining of "the risk of carpol tunnel" I fitted his emaciated wrists with a coupol of old loofah sponges that were alredy in the tub.

Once he dialed in, the old fool relized like the rest of us that aftor a week of not checkin his e-mail, alls he had waitin for him was all spam anyway.

"LOAD! I SAYS LOAD, MISSY!"

Its a 486 laptop with a 14.4 modom which is extremley slow if you want to look at dirty pitcures--the REAL reasen he had to get online. Well in no time the anceint letch was once agian screaming at the internet. Granfathor has a theorey that most people, (atleast in private), scream and curse at the internet for being too slow. And that like him they also whack the monitor like you do with a TV thats not working, or jiggle it like you do to a toilet.

I went in the room to see 'Missy', (or rathor a grainy JPEG of her) half loaded on the screen, with the unloadded half of her being the ovbious part that he wanted loaded. Heres how stupid Granfather is: Just because he once saw a demonstraition of X-rated vidoeconferrencing at AdultDex '96, he now thinks that ALL nakad ladies on the internet can see and hear him.

"Stop in NOW!"

That is what I yelled at him.

tHEN WE GOT IN A GIANT FIHGT

He hollared back at me complainning how slow the 486 was, but you know beggers cant be choosers and then i said to him "If youre not Buyin' youd better stop Cryin", which is an old Texas saying. Granfather did NOT like that. He said that alls that danm laptop was good for was cruising the newsgroups with 'IMAGES OFF' for filthey text stories. I said to him that this was NOT my problem.

I am one-upped

When I returned to Texas after havving Christmas in California I saw Granfather on a new fancey 266 Mhz laptop. I said where the hell did you get that? He screamed at to me, "NONE O'YOUR BEE-EYE BIZNESS."

My guess was that his awful girlfreind had boght it for him when she stopped by our place. Surely Granfather didnt buy it himself becuase he is too cheap. Also he was unable to get into the door of any store to shoplift it due to the tubbed nut.

Then aftor the new year when I went back to work at the Netly satelite office the persen who's my site supervizor said to me: "Hows the new fast machene working out?" I thoght they were makin fun of our car, which is old and crappy so i said nothing. Our car is a 1970 Dogde Dart Swinger.

Two days aftor this was my weekly Netly staff meeting that I conferrence call into at their main office in Newyork City. They were asking me about the new laptop I ordered. Plus there was a problem with the requesition papers because the guy whose signatoure of approvol was on it, swares that he did NOT authorrize the purchase. Also that the signatore on there is a fraud.

Well it turns out that GRANFATHER took a blank Office Supply Reqeust Form from my knapsack that my cheap employor reqiures when you want things like a stapler, floppey disks or scotch tape. The bastord put MY NAME on it and then faxed it in.

The odd part

The odd part (besides that part of him locked in drainage) was that the sneakey beast knew the Internol Requisition Number of the laptop, and also my Departmant Number. (I do not even KNOW MY OWN departmant Numbor because it changes evorytime there is a re-org).

Of cuorse I had to give the laptop back.

It was very enbarassing. Granfather had ruined the original packing box for them to ship it back by spattoring tobaco juice and OTHOR STUFF on it so I had to make a speciel trip to drive it back to the satellite office. Also there was grits and mucus from him sneezing and eating ovor it plus nose hair all in the keyboard.

The worst part abbout it

Oh, I wont go into it. Lets just say that there was plentey of stuff like THIS STUFF BELOW floatin arround on the hard drive when he returned it, and thanks to a person in the Ops Department who is a tattle-tail, it floated also off of the lazer printer and onto the desk of one of my supperiors:

C:\WINDOWS\Temporary Internet Files\Cache4\

elderly_babe01.JPEG
elderly_babe02.JPEG
elderly_babe05.JPEG
.htm Query=olderwomen AND image +xxx naked+OR blue hair=?/
.htm Query=olderwomen AND image +xxx naked+OR orthopedic shoes=?/
.htm Query=olderwomen AND image +xxx naked+OR fast food restaurant uniform=?/

What I want to know is, (and what I presented to the beast in my own Queries), was: WHAT the hell is it with his weird fetishes, and WHO tought him how to use advanced search logic?

Well on bolth counts he said to me, "NONE O'YOUR BISSNESS, BOY."

Sneaky Boolean bastord.

Our whole familly is horrofied by Granfather, and after I showed this Qeury Log to my Dad, who was still staying with us from California, he agreed that Granfather woud HAVE to have some professionol therapy. And so Dad he agreed to stay an extra week to schedoule some emergency Family councilling..

Even thuogh we were whisporing, Granfather was able to hear me and dad talking from the othor side of the trailor. This is posibble thanks to the sound maggniffication that comes from being inside a large basin, which amplofies the noise like an old fashoined ear horn.

"YOU BOYS LIKE MUH QUERY LOG?" the monster screamed at us from down the hall at the top of his lungs with a cigarete clentched in his teeth. When we didnt answor him he said "THET'S ALLRIGHT," and also that he was "workin on anothor 'LOG'" which we'd find in abuot ten more seconds at the bottom of the tub.

More Windows 95 probloms