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Struttin' my stuff in obscurity

The Summer 2001 Update

Page 48 of 50


As my poor uncle whipped arround in helpless terror like a Ragedy Ann doll in a Bengal typhoon the gristley old basterd, (Granfather, not Zeke) looked at me and said while bubboling with evil glee, "BWAH. I'LL BET YER WONDERIN' HOW I GOT OL' ZEKEY ON THAR DRESSED LIKE A GAL. WHUT WITH MAH WHOLE BODY ALL SHELLACKED STIFF, 'CEPT MAH MOUTH AN' MAH ASS."

I WAS infact wondoring, and he explained in meticulous diabolicol detail exactly how: First, Granfather told me that he put on the fancy Secret Collector's Soceity robes and Headdress (plus Zeke's personal turban), to piss off, and drive the older geezer to action.

Next, Granps reminded me of how he got me to sever the gluey bonds of polyresin betwean his hands and knees with the hacksaw blade. This resulting tiny gap of space in the Clintin statue allowed Zeke sneak up on Granfather while he was asleep in the wheelchair, and easily pull the robe and headress off him. Granfather acommodated this by waiting until Zeke was in the showor. While his brother was lathering up, Granfather had quietly snuck in and stole all his clothes.

When Zeke exited the showor, the clothes were gone -- but there was Granfather asleep in his wheelchair, (pretending to be asleep realy), smack dab in the bathroom doorway. Zeke put his giant goofy slippers on and aproached, angry that he was drippin wet naked (exept for his slippers of course), angry cause someone had stolen his clothes, and on top of that, doubly angry that Granfather was sitting right there in front of him wearin the Garb of the Secret Collectors of the Twentey Fourth and by-God Nineteenth Degrees, (to which, neither honor was the monstrous troll entitled), and so, in his dullwitted rage Zeke tore the Robe and double-Headdress off the old basterd in one clumsy pull.

Howevor the big suprise was that Granfather was NOT wearin the Robe and Headdress but instead the Marilyn Monroe dress and wig, which was actualy a very costly costume, though carelessly tossed aside on our sofa in the busy panic of a prior foliage rellated computor hardware mishap.

Once pulling the costume off Granps, Uncle Zeke slapped the wig on his head, and then clammored into the dress, before even taking a realy good look at them -- because, after all, somone, (Granfather), had turned the hallway light off before Zeke coud get a good look.

Next, as soon as the dress fell past Zeke's face to rest upon the rest of his gangly lankey body, the lights once agian came on, and Zeke found himself stairing down the barrol of a shotgun, (we have two in the house; Spike was outside shootin at Krauts with the other one), and as the grinning, oh-so-sattisfied looking Clinton Monument leveled the firearm right at him, Zeke leaped out the bathroom window...

"...WHERE THEM NUMBER THREE BLUEFISH HOOKS ARE HOLDIN' HIM NICE AND FAST WHILE LOOPED IN THE STEEL GRATE OF THET THAR FAN...CAREFUL, BIG BROTHER!" Granfather interupted himself to shout to Zeke, imploring him not to allow the poisonnous breeze to touch his gentlemen's giblets not even for a second, as Uncle Zeke, to his horror, had remmembered every detail of the ellaborate story about the fan's dark history that the old basterd had planted in his tiny brain, and thrashed as best he coud and with small sucess to push the flying hem of the dress down and over his crotch to protect his tempest-tossed testiculor tidbits.

I turned to Granfather with my mouth open as if I was going to ask somthing and before I did, the beast read my mind (I hate when he does that) and answored me. I was going to ask, "How is the wig not blowing off?" and Granfather simpley replied, "KRAZY GLUE," and when I atempted to ask why Zeke coudnt just kick the danm slippers off Granps read my mind agian and said, "EXTRA STRENGTH POLYGRIP."

And so as Shania sang, her hit song looping over and ovor on the tinny laptop speaker, Granfather sang along too as with each musicol rotation as he learned the lyrics better as Zeke DANCED.

"I have one more queston," I said, "Is that my laptop?"

"DANM YOU, NO, Granfather looked ofended. "WHAT THE HAYLE YOU THINK I AM? I AIN'T TOUCHIN' THAT DAGNAB THANG."

Granfather told me it was the one he snitched out of the Criptos van a year ago and kept under his bed.

He is simultanneously superhuman and subhuman

Then the repulsive ogre's big brown forked tounge, scaly and purplish-blue-veined, slithored out of his smug little upside-down Clinton grin, and in a quick movement, reached for a new red toothbrush in a streaked stained Souvenier of the Alamo glass on the windowsill, looping around it like an elephant grabs a branch with his trunk. The old basterd turned it upright and tapped at the laptop keyboard.

"That is MY toothbrush! I just took a new one from the pantry, aftor you ruined my other one today with that magic markor!"

"AW, I RUINED THAT OTHER ONE DAYS AGO, WHEN I BEGAN PRACTICING WITH IT. WATCH HOW I WIGGLE THAT RUBBER FOOD NIPPLE ON THE END TO TOGGLE THROUGH MAH HOTMAIL.

"COURSE, IF I GIT ONE MORE DAGNAB POP-UP AD FOR THAT DANM 'TINY WIRELESS VIDEO CAMERA' WHEN I LAUNCH THE I.E. BROWSER, I'M HEADIN' ON UP TO REDMOND, WARSHINGTON TO BREAK MAH FOOT OFF IN SOMEBODY'S ASS."

I coud not beleive the old basterd. Spike had just come up behind the house to see what was going on. He hollored up to Granfather, "Turn off that girly crap and put on some Stevie Ray Vaughn."

MANN! ICH FUHLE MICH WIE EINE FRAU!

Ganfather, to paraphrase Shania's "Man! I Feel Like A Woman!" was goin wild in style feeling the attraction of action.

"IN HONOR OF OUR GERMANIC VISITORS, I'VE LOGGED ONTO ALTAVISTA.COM TO TRANSLATE THESE HERE LYRICS INTO...
INTO...
INTO...
"OH, MY...THAT IS INDEED LOVELY," said the old basterd, squinting at the little laptop screen. Granfather then began to sing along with the music in barking monotone, jamming the extra syllabbles into the rythem of the song merely by shouting at a faster rate when need be.

OH-, OH-, OH-, GEHEN TOTAL VERRUCKT --
--VERGEßEN SIE, DASS ICH EINE DAME BIN
HEMDEN DER MANNER KURZE ROCKE
OH-, OH-, OH...
...YEAH, DOIN' ES IN DER ART WILD!

MANN! ICH FUHLE MICH WIE EINE FRAU!

"IF I WUS THE SENTIMENTAL SORT, I MIGHT EVEN SHED A TEAR AT THE POETIC BEUTY OF THIS LANGUAGE."

Zeke gets rescued

Not that Spike realy cares about Zeke, but more in disrespectful defference to his hatred of Granfather, my brother opened the fusebox outside the house and shut down the fan. Uncle Zeke colapsed on the steel grate in a rawboned heap. For the last five minutes of his houmiliating ordeal he was not only completely bare, he coudnt even see what was going on, as the dress had been blowed allmost completely off him. It was bunched up all around his neck, and stood up straight, much like how an umbbrella blows inside out in a windy storm. Only Uncle Zeke's cauliflowered, Trabant-door-sized outsticking ears prevented it from flyin totally off.

Also as soon as the fan stopped somthing fell down to bonk him on the head, his bottom denture plate which had been held by upword airpressure against the eave of the roof above him.

It was still very earley in the morning. Spike took Zeke to the Unisex haircuttor, even though he had wanted to go instead to the hospital. But Spike talked him into it saying, "Face it old man, thanks to all that Krazy Glue on your head, this will be the cheaper alternattive in the long run, trust me."

A Work From Home Day

Other than, "We'll pay you in options insted of money!", there is no greator fraud thats ever been perpetrated on the American workforce than this old, "Oh, dont mind me - I'm workin at home today" sham.

People who can swing the one day a week at home are just gettin an extra day off, or else have found a creative way to save 20 persent on child care. Yes folks, once Upper Mannagement discovers that taking your cellphone with you on the fishing boat IS NOT working at home, the party will end, (Of cource, theyre the basterds who invented the danm policy, so go figure.)

Anyway that day I called Tilde and just anounced (not asked permission) but just declaired "I am workin from home today."

OK I admit it

I have low job morrale. And so I mostly did no work. Or atleast it started out that way.

I had to call Stu at the office and tell him how cool it was how Spike handoled those former East Germans. Yes, it is amazing how fast SOME people become cappittolists with disposable income for nostalgic toys, like discontineud models of Trabants. Both Spike and Stu are confiddent people with qualities a loser like me admires, and so having both of them close to me makes me feel important.

We disrespectfully make fun of others in a haughtey, superior atittude

"You shoud of seen it, Stu," I said, "It wasnt even Spike's biggest loudest shotgun, eithor, but you should of seen how fast they ran."

"You know Walter," Stu replied pompously, as I heard over the phone the familor clunk of him swinging his hooves up on his mahogeney desk, "The Euro's down to eightey cents. They booed both Clinton AND Bush over there, and NOBODY'S STILL usin' that danm metric system....Do we sound Ugly Americans here? HYEEE! HYEEE! HYEEE!" he laughed in his manaicol squealing pig shreik.

We verbolly bashed the two visitors for a few more minnutes and then I got off the phone. By then I started to feel a little guiltley. Not only only for making fun of them, (cause after all, I do not like to be made fun of), but the more I thoght about it I suppose Spike coud of made a deal with them to perhaps knock a few bucks off the price so everyone woud be happy at the end of the transaction.

As the moments went by I beggan to feel even worse. YES, MORE GUILTEY. Yes, one shoud not make fun of people cause their acents are diferent, their culture is diferent, or they are forced by internationol convention to have funny endings on their URLs.

"WAAL NOW. FOLKS WHO CAPITIALIZE THEIR NOUNS CAIN'T BE ALL THAT BAD," said Granfather, visualy scanning with the German lyrics he'd ben singing off the snot streaked screen.

He turned up to me unblinking, cold blooded and evil, lookin like a vampire squid ready to pounce. "I'D JEST LIKE TO KNOW HOW SUCH A SEXY, PERKY AND GENERALLY LIGHTHEARTED SHANIA TWAIN SONG ENDED UP BEIN' TRANSLATED INTO WORDS LIKE, 'MADCHENNOTWENDIGKEIT' AND, 'WAHRSCHEINLICHKEIT."

The rest of the day was awfull.