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Walter Miller's Homepage(TM)

If you made it this far, youre probly not jonesing no more, youre probly danm sick of it.

The Summer 2001 Update

Page 40 of 50

The small tough deputty grew red-faced and raised his voice agian to (sort of ridiculously) ask, "Now, WHICH one o'yall three ain't HERE?"

"That'd be DuWayne," said Cathyann quickly. "He done picked that thar lock, an' squeezed hisseff out that yay window up yonder." The cop looked stunned. Cathyann jovialy thrust her hand to shake his, but he did not take it.

"Stu Hogg, Marketing DIE-rector Cyberblop-dot-com, please to meetchya," she said in a wierd voice. I whisperred to her, "You dont have to oink and snort damnit."

The cop looked troubelled and asked more about how "Mr. Poteet" excaped.

"Ain't no way to candycoat it," said Cathyann, "Duuuuwayne just done squeezed his his ass out." Then she beckonned him closer with her finger, and when he did, she mashed her face on the bars and added in a low breathy whispor, "Right after he tried to squeese both our asses in a very unspeakable way. But we both resisted his lassivious advances. Ain't that right, Walter?"

I contineud to cower under my thin blanket, but saw a frown grow on the officer's face as she added, "But I think he done got a little piece of Walter though. BWAHAHAHA! BWAHAHAHA! BWAHAHAHA!"

I am finaly rescued

It was just then my brothor Spike came in. I was real relieved but Spike looked pissed at me. He allways gives me a hard time when I screw up. He glaired at me while signing me out and told the cops to change the sheets cause I am a bedwettor. Well dammit mabye a long time ago, but no more.

Thankfuly the charges were all lowered to a much smaller offence. Spike didnt have to pay bail to get me released, but I was isseud a $100 summons and had a court appearance for Failure to Evacaute a Building at the Direction of a Law Officer.

We are released

Me The cops coudnt find the arrest forms for Stu cause it apears the female deputy took them with her out of simpathy for him. So, "Stu" (who they thoght Cathyann was), didnt get a court date or a summons. Once agian the Luck of Stu prevails.

"Kin I catch a ride back with y'all to town?" she croaked. She was hoarse from reciting the script to Coal Minor's Daughtor too many times. Spike was rude and distracted as usuol and said, "How bout you catch a ride with Tilde? We dont have room in our car." Cathyann looked pissed and hollored at him, "No ROOM in the car?
"If I kin shoehorn mah BEE -hind into these here short-shorts, it'd sure danm fit in your soccor-mom wife's big ass SUV."

Spike screamed, "I dont GOT the SUV today. Go with Tilde!" and then Spike whacked me on the back of the head and hollored at me, "You and your stupiditty and your stupid freinds are more of a drain on this family than the old basterd's been for sixty years!" I coud not argeu with him because in a way he was right. The whole thing was very houmilliating for me. One day I will get my danm life togethor. Probly not this year, though.

What the hell is Tilde doing there

Tilde met us at the cement walkway, her tiny froglike face wrinkolled up into a nosy grimace of cumpulsive concern. She was wearin this big long teeshirt that for some reason I thought belonged to me. I have allot of teeshirts. In fact most of my wardrobe is made up of teeshirts I get for free at Internet conferrences by running arround the booths with a Hefty bag. I also grab the tote bags and squishey balls. Yes I know. Its pittiful.

Tilde just stood there in a silent whimper, like a sad rejected puppy, her hands folded behind her back, her head cocked slightley like she's trying to be coy, and one of her toes sheepishley toying with the pavement. She looked like a Precoius Moments child figurine might at age fifty, aftor working all those years to maintain that sugary look on its face, which was now cramped into a painful pitiful porcelain grimace. Painfull to LOOK at, that is.

Spike whispored to me in a hissing white hot rage, "That is the nosiest, stupidest pain in the ass woman I ever met in my life."

He marched up to her and bent down to put his face close to hers and said loudley in a stern condessending way that one might to a small child, "It is time to go home now!" She repleid nervously, "Oh dear! I don't know where my car keys are! They're lost!" Spike said, "Well then you will haveto stay here forever."

Tilde fumboled in her purse, and pulled her keys out. "Oh here they are," she said sheepishley." Let me tell you: I happan to know this woman well and I can tell you she probly knew they were there all the time.

She squeeses my arm

I canot stand it when she squeezes my arm. Even worse is when she stands on tippytoes to poke her little warty toadface close to me

"Walter," she said in her warbly Illinois twang, "I returned your laptop like I promised," and before she finished the words Spike yelled at her agian, "Yes! You returned the laptop! Now that means it is time for you to finaly GO HOME."

Hearing this rude threat from Spike, Tilde fearfuly waddled off.

While walking to the car Spike angrily muttored to me how she had showed up at Granfather's trailer in the wee hours of the night looking for me and never left. After a few hours, even the Criptozoologists, who were back there to study the old geezer some more, coudnt stand it anymore. (Tilde is so very anoying -- and think about it here, these Criptoes are people who have dedicatted their career to studying Granfather, which places them for many hours of the week within nose shot of his ass. That is how anoying she is).

Spike told me that last night she woud NOT leave the trailer

Aparantly she had some "problem" going on that Spike didnt mention. Spike told me that Tilde didnt leave untill Dr. Madison finaly called Spike in a trembling shrieking anxeity attack to beg him to drive the danm ninety miles ovor there, and chase her the hell out.

Spike told me that just as he walked in the trailer, there was a news story on the Local Access channol about how local businesses like Cyberblop are working with local Sheriffs to enforce firedrill compliance.

Finaly I make it to T.V.

"And so, guess what, Walter," Spike grumbled contemptuosly, "You and Arnold the Pig were the Number Two story."

I said, "Oh crap. I saw the cameras. Was it bad?"

"Youll see it for yourself later on. You know those danm local access channels in little towns like this. Theyll be replaying that Number Two story every ten minuts till midnight. Right after they air the Number One story of the day: Granfather's newsworthy number TWO."

Anyway, Spike said that when Tilde saw on our TV that I was in jail, this whipped up all her naturally uncontrolloble urges to provide unwanted help into a wild frenzey of panicked concern. And so when Spike just left two hours ago to bail me out, she folowed him the whole 90 miles from our trailer to police station.

It was a long walk back to the car, cause Spike had to park way down the street. The parking lot of the Police stattion the still flooded, both with water from the storm, and also with poisonous mud from the upstream basterd-rellated toxic spill. As I walked with Spike he cursed and spat and kicked debris out of the way, muttering ovor and over, "Tilde, effin' Tilde." I nervuosly changed the subject.

"So, what was Granfather doing all this time?" I asked. Spike shrugged.

"Smoking. Farting. Spitting. Abusing Junior and Zeke. Exploring all his Hotmail porn spam since being freeze-dryed. Somthing like 8,000 new mesagges."

I was shocked that Granfather was actualy able to surf the Web dispite being frozen, but Spike told me that tapping keys and rollin the trackball with his tongue is working out just fine, plus, since its a forked toungue, if the old monstor sees a nice page of nakad lady .GIFS he wants to keep, then typing [Ctrl]-[A] is no problem.

"But the one thing Granfather was not doing," said Spike, his voice rising in angor, "Was chasing Tilde out of there. He kept saying, 'It's only TILDE,' and 'Why don't you stay a little LONGER, Tilde?' and also, 'Don't leave till you COMFORT AND NURTURE MAH POOR INSECURE ASS, TILDE,' which he was only DOING cause he saw how much it pissed me off." And then Spike shoved me harshly and I almost fell in the mud. "You and your danm boss! It's all your fault, Walter!" he yelled.

Once agian I am "e-Masculated"

I lowored my head in shame. Though I am constantley abused verbally at work, it is only the harsh words of the men (and beast) of my own familly that hurts this bad. And I haveto say it was extra embbarasing for me to have this annoying womon constantly trying to "help" me. I stammored, "Why did she come ovor in the first place? What the hell was she suposed to be helping me with THIS time?"

"She didnt want to help YOU, she wanted you to help HER," Spike seethed.

"Help her do what?" I asked.

Spike said he was not gonna tell me.

"No. It's too nasty. I'm just glad you werent there to witness it," said Spike. "Cause if you'd of seen it, you'd of wrote about it on your damn website. And you'd of lost any remaining readers of that damn boring piece of crap you havent lost already."

I told him, "Look, I wipe Granfathers butt: I can take it." This realy set Spike's tempor off, and, while repeating that he was NOT goingto tell me what her "problom" was, he DID tell me in a howling scream:

"I HAD TO HELP HER! I HAD TO DO IT! AND IT WAS NASTY!" and then he shoved me agian two more times.

Once agian I am also a coddependent "e-Nabler"

As a sign of my own pittifulness I began to feel a little sorry for Tilde. I woud comfort her through this dificult time, no matter what the "problem" was. But I dared not say nothin out loud about thus lest Spike hit me agian.

Tinkoring with a tiny Trabant