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Early Januery 1999 Updatte

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Granfather's last Will and Testimint

Granfather actualy has two wills, a living will and one which is to be read only aftor he is dead. The living will is written down on paper. In the written will, he insisted that his whole familly be surounding him around the bed and that the "I Feel Pretty" in German song play continualy at the loudest setting of the 8-track, over and over up until the moment of death. And so we complyed with his wishes.

After the music went on for 40 minnutes or so I went inside the trailer to get a coupol of speciel items that Granfather wanted near him at the momant of death. While inside I heard some bloodcourdling screams from the shed. I ran outside and my brothor was there.

I thougt from his screamming that perhaps Granfather might of sudenly died. But when I bursted into the shed him and Madison were holdin there ears and my brother had this extremly pissed look on his face and he hollered at me, "I am going to either turn this danm tape off or shoot the old basterd dead, you choose."

We comprommised by hooking up a Walkman to Granfather. It was a real pain in the ass becuase if there is such thing as an 8-Track Walkman, we do not have one. So first we had to tape the 8-track onto a casette and then make the cassete loop over and over. At one point the 8-track cartrigde broke and we had to take apart and old Smokey and The Miracles one to thread the tape in, with all the little anoying screws.

"I cant believe we are freakin' doing this for GRANFATHER!!" my brothor screammed in frustrattion when he lost one of the tiny screws. In any case we were very glad we did it becuse we didnt have to hear the song no more. Granfather's head is so danm thick as to muffol any noise.

You shoud see the Xray of Granp's skull, it is incredoble: beneath 3 inches of pure bone is 2 more inchas of opaque fat and finaly a husky layor of fibory gristle which houses a small, decidedly non-human yet theorettically proto-simian brain the size of a kumquat.

After two days in the shed with no food, Granfather was still alive.

Cyberblop was alowwing me the days off work, but were very pissed (as we all were) that Granfather hadnt died yet. I was worreid about missing work too, becuase they were on the verge of yet another re-org :

The one known as the Post-reorg Re-org

This is the re-org they have after the re-org where they fire allot of people. This is where they now have to mak evereyone happy with all sort of morale boosting crap. Like having to lose a week switching machenes around, as peoplle are randomly and haphazerdly moved arround to other cubicals in othor departments. I sure as hell didnt want to miss THAT

The night of the second day, me and Junior were at the basterd's bedside vigil with the kerosean heater going in the shed. I was so sad becaus I reallized that with Granfather gone, so much of my own identitty woud be gone too: For exampol, what woud I write about on my homepage? Also who woud I blame for allot of the victimized feelings I feel each day?

I was also sad becuase deep down I love and care for Granfather. I cannot bare the thoght of life without him. I just coud not bare it. I just wanted to be near him when he died. I am the closest thing to a percen who actualy loves him. When I coud tell that Juniour was asleep I felt I coud no longor hold back my feelings. I started cryin.

After aboutt an hour of feelin sentimentol I finaly got my danm blanket and headed back inside the trailer. I just coud not bare his Godawfull friggin stench. Even on a good day the old basterd smells like a danm truckload of chicken guts on there way to the dump that got sprawled on the freeway to bake. Rancid sonofabitch..

The veiwing of the Video Will

Granfather taped his Video Will back in the early '90s before i came to live with him. At that time hed been sufforing from his injuries which initialy put him in the wheelchair and thoght he was close to death.

The video was sealed in a box with strict instructions NOT to open it till aftor he was dead. But when I went inside the house, my brothor was just loading it into the VCR.

I was very upsett and said that this was agianst Granfather's wishes, and my brothor said that he had to leave in 2 days to go back to his wife and kid in California and didnt have time to sit arround for the old basterd to kick the buckat.

"I do not care for Granfather's wishes," my brother said to me and also said that Granps never not once in his life ever caired about anyone else's feelings so why the hell shoud we.

"We can besmirch his frigin memory for the rest of our lives," my brothor explainned. "But this," he said, waiving the videotape around, "Is our last chance to disrespect the old monster while hes still kickin."

This is how badly people in my famly get along.

A small suprize

Taped onto the vidoecasette was an envolope with a $50 bill inside. On the bill was a greazy Post-It note from Gramps which read:

AFTER YOU PLANT

MY SCRAGGLY ASS

AT MY FUNERAL I

HEARBY BEQUEATH

TO YOU ALL THIS

HERE $50 FOR TO

EAT SUPPER AT A

FINE RESTAURANT

OF MY CHOOSING.

And taped to the back of the Post-It was a card of this restuoront that Granfather has fond memmories of. Actualy i remember the restuoront, it is like 40 miles away. It is owned by a former F.B.I. agent who back in the 1960s was asigned to Granfather's case. (You may think there is no sutch thing as the X-Files but they realy exist but undor a diferent name. Granfather's file so I have heard takes up a whole half a file drawor.)

"Bingo! Free eats on the bastard!" my brother crowed, stuffin the fifty in his pocket. I said to him at least lets wait till he has his funnorol.

My brother said "Fine, but in any case I am watchin this video."

The vidoe was much more awful than you coud of imaginned. One of those cheezy amateur intro screens came up, which read, "The Last Will and Testicle of Grampy," and the date, Novembor, 1990. (Yes in the testicle part he is tryin to be funny.)

I remmember when he taped this will. It was while I still lived in California. As I wrote abuot before, Granfather had a close shave with death when an old rickety tin hay silo which was full of antiqeu toilet fixtures which the old basterd collected colappsed on him and put him in a wheelchair.

The next thing on the tape that came up was about 10 seconds of an F.B.I. warning, abbout the penaltey of stealing the contents of this tape. The ironey is that Granfather probly stole this warning off anothor tape at some point.

Finaly the screen disolves into a shot of the old basterd seated confortabbly with his legs crossed in plesent suroundings on a fancy leathor Chesterfeild wingback chair, wearin a silk bathrobe, a cravat, and this awful lookin Monica Lewinskey style red beret. He is holdin a cigarete, and there's a row of books behind him and a roarring fireplace off to his right. I immagine this video was shot in his lawyor's office.

"WELCOME TO MY VIDEO WILL," the old basterd barks.

"IF Y'ALL ARE WATCHIN' THIS HERE TAPE, THEN THAR'S ONE OF TWO THINGS WHICH ARE FER SURE.

"ONE IS, THET I'M DEAD.

"T'OTHER IS, THET I AIN'T DAID...

...BUT Y'ALL ARE JEST TIRED O'HEARIN' MUH DAMN KROUT SOUNDTRACK."

At this point Granfather narowws his eyes and the camera comes close to his face. He screamms at whoevor is holding the camera to come in closer. This was in the days before image stabbilization and so the persen holding the screen was shivorring with fear.

"BRING THE CAMMER IN CLOSER! ...CLOSER!" The old basterd screamed, "OR I'LL TAKE A BITE OUCH YER ASS THE SIZE OF A COFFEE CAN!"

You coud hear the poor laywor in the backround blithoring and shreiking in fright.

Then, in a low snarl, Granfather anounced to his listenning audience that he will not tolorate cheaters -- in this case, people who woud dare to cheat him from his last reqeust, that of having his familly crowded around his deathbed listenning to that song as he dies.

"I FEEL PURTY, DAMNIT, AND I WILL SING IT."

And so, the old basterd continued, he will spend the whole tape barking out the song himself, (mostley in English but here or there in his awful atempt at German), and only ocassionaly and intermittently punctuating his meloddious discourse with important informatton.

"OH, AND BY THE WAY, YOU MISORABLE FAMBLY OF CHEATERS:

JEST TRY TO FAST FOWARD PAST MAH SONG. JEST TRY TO READ MUH LIPS WITH THIS HERE CIGARETE IN MUH TEETH, JEST TRY!"

It was a long tape abuot six hours long, cause it was taped on "slow record" mode. Granfather coordinnated it in such a way that there truely was indeed no way to cheat: There was 20 minutes of singing, folowed by 10 seconds of a very inportant message. Then, 9 more minnutes of maniacol shouting of the song folowed by 8 seconds of stuff we truly had to hear in ordor to close out his estate.

Granfather's singing was very disjointad and certianly didnt rhyme most of the time. Here is sort of how the tape went:

"I FEEL PURTY!! I FEEL WITTY!!

I FEEL PURTY, AND WITTY AND GAY-Y-Y-Y!!!!

LA, LAH, LA, LAAAH:

LUH-LUH-LUH -LAAAAH- LA LA, LA LA.

(This went on ovor and over agian for 20 minutes straihgt, until sudenly):

"I FEEL PURTY!! I FEEL WITTY!! (I HEARBY LEAVE MUH BUMPER STICKER COLLECTION TO MUH DUMBASS FREIND JUNIOR.)

"I FEEL PURTY!! I FEEL WITTY!! (THE COMBY-NATION TO MUH WALL SAFE IS 36-24-36...")

I thoght that mabye we coud "mark" the tape by the pattorn of Granps spitting on the video lens. But even the spattor of drool and tobbaco juice that spreys everywhere when the old beast talks was hap-hazord. (Not to mention, surely a hazord to that poor lawyor. I tell you its not every day you feel sorrey for a laywer, especialy one on tape from a decade ago)

Me and my brothor (and Junior, who had come inside the trailer cause he too coudnt take the smell), listenned to TWO HOURS of the danm thing beffore we threw in the towol.

It was at the point of the tape where you coud hear the lawyor weeping uncontrollobly as Granps makes more horroble threts. I remmember my dad tellin me right arround this time that that lawyor treid to comitt siucide not long afterword.

Can you blame us for not watchin it?