Walter Miller's Homepage

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Early March 1999 Update

Page 1 of 5


I begin this update where I left the other one off: Spending a whole night where i coudnt sleep at all. This was because of a cuople of reasons. One was that I had a secret admirror at work who kept sending me anonnymous love notes. She was signing thenotes "Hot Cheeks" and other provoccotive names.

My secrat admiror was also directing me arround my making me do things, like wear red socks, and also get my ear peirced.

Yes, i know what your thinkin: Walter you jerk. She has you whipped like a trained poodle. Now on the one hand i woud normoly agree to that line of thinking. But on the othor, I haveto say I was dumb enuogh to believe that if someone woud be taking the trouble to do somthing like this to start a rellationship with me, it woud be because she woud be embbarrassed to have me as a boyfreind.

THAT is somthing i coud believe.

Anothor reason why i coudnt sleep was that I had recently ate this horroble thing in a trite resturrant run by aging hippys and served by weird Waitrons (and cooked probly by mass murderrers) in the once trendy but now rundown part of this awful little tourista purgatory of a town about 50 miles away from our small stinky trailor.

Me, my brothor and my neighbour Junior ate there on the insistence of Granfather, who'd stuffed a $50 bill in his will 10 years ago with the directions that we shoud eat there after the old baster died in ordor to remmember him. We thoght he was going to die, but tragicaly due to a compliccation he didnt. But anyway he said what the hell, go on and eat up a fancy supper on him.

The third reasen why i coudnt sleep was that i was suforring from a severe shrinkege of the male orgen to the point that it looked like a femaile orgen. It had been a few weeks by now that it was all the way in (and i mean IN) and so i was startin to get rathor worreid.

Of cuorce another reasoin why i coudnt sleep was that Granfather had just a few minnutes ago creamed me with a wet lungie from up above while he was below in a very ellabborate way RIGHT IN MY FACE.

It felt like one of those danm black slippory mushrooms thats allways at the bottom of the takeout Chinese food containor had shot out an air cannon at me. Stupid creul old basterd. A finol reason why i coudnt sleepwas his danm luaghin at me for all of the above. But even still the worst of them allat this momment was unqeustionably from the awful danm RESTORONT SUPPER.

I felt so queazy.

I kept tasting the danm lamb suasage. I ate, like ten Rolaids but i coud still taste the danm thing. I only had two hours sleep.

The next day when I got to work there was a note from my "secrat admiror."

It was a long, intence, and very emottionol note. In it she said that her feelings were hurt that I didnt get my ear peirced. She said that she woud NOT be calling herself 'Hot Cheeks" aneymore, if indeed I descided not to do what was necesary to meet her. Althuogh I woud be the one missing out: NOT HER.

A hint: from the West Aisle!

She also droped me a hint: She woudnt tell me her name, but she did say that she sits in the West Aisle of Cubicals. Whoa. The cutest girls in the whole compeny sat there. In fact, the ugliest girl in the West Aile, (a plump blond with a sweaty nose, but you know, not realy all that bad lookin), was prettior than the best lookin one in most of the other aisles. I was hooked. Hooked by whoevor was writin me these notes.

A lunch apointment

I had plans to eat lunch with Madisen, Ripke and Blankenship. They are the team of criptozoologists who examinne Granfather. A criptozologist as you know is a sceintist who specializes in unknown species, (like Granfather). My job is halfway between the university and my home and so they wanted to share with me the findings of the latest Goverment Teratollogicol Phenomena Report on the old basterd.

Madison did all the talking. He is the tougest one of the three and so has suffored the least emotionol trauma from his exposure to Granfather. (Not to mention, damage to the mucol membranes of the lungs, from inhailing the old basterd's fumes in too many enclosed exammination rooms).

Blankenship just sat there nervuosly grunting, shaking, sweatting and chain smokking. He has a coupol of facial ticks and arm spasms. Ocasionally he will blurt out an outburst of profannity, or else a profound exclamatory phraise in his clipped Scottish acent, like, "Wha' Hellish Beast hath the deepest Fiery Tartarus Wrought?"

He is sufforing from Stage Two Exposure-to-Granfather-Rellated Post Truamattic Syndrome. Ripke howevor is in the worst shape of all. He just sits there rocking like a disturrbed child, drooling, and pulling violentley at the long canvas sleeves which buckol up behind him.

Madison must feed Ripke. He must get sunlight and humen companionnship or else he will die. We all met in a truckstop diner off the freeway not far from Cyberblop. ('Cyberblop' is the name of the company i work for. Or atleast the one i call it in my homepage).

"The report is not good," said Madison, tossing the Teraterological Report across the table toword me.

"We know less about 'Patient X' than ever before."

I am pressented with the latest 'speciel report'