Walter Miller Homepage

Ours is a humble tasteless web site

Octobor 1996 Update

Page 4 of 7


THEY AINT YET BUILT A JOINT THAT KIN HOLD ME

This is what Granfather tells my dad, and the old beast is right. Hes been thrown out of 14 nursing homes in 5 states plus 2 Americon retirement homes in north Mexico. The gristly old basterds record before expultion is 3 days and thats only cause a road was flooded once and he had to stay an extra day--it would of been 2 days.

Plus for the ones in Mexoco the Mexicon goverment asked us please not to bring him into there country no more, even to visit. In fact when I go there to buy him his smokes I leave him in the car by the border and walk over the footbrigde.

A big mean Federali which is a Mexicon cop told me once if he ever sees the old chormiga south of the Rio Grand hell throw both our asses in jail and then pourposly forget to let us make our one free phone call.

Operation Monkydrop

My dad tells granfather that if he acts up that the family has a special plan that we all thoght up when he wasnt around. This elaborate scheam was a colaboration of my brother, his wife and our uncle who is granfathers brother.

When granfather is nakad he looks like a giant wrinkeled monkey. The plan is to knock him out with an electric stun gun and then give him some medicin the doctor gave us to make him incohherent. Then theres this henna bath he goes in to make all his body hair orange. Also hell be injected with a harmless orangutan prottoplasm. This will make the DNA test come out posotive for a primate.

Then theyll singe the ends of the hair black with an asceytiline torch. Dad told the old basterd, so help him God, hell leave him babbling and chattering in the bushes near the zoo and then all of us in the family will take turns calling to report an escaped ape.

Of course we coud never do this (only my brother thinks we coud really pull it off) but we all made up the story to scaire the hell out of him. Granfather has now heard this plan independintly from all members of the family and in his twisted mind there is a kernol of truth to it. We even left a printed version of it marked Operation: Monkeydrop hidden in my sock draw in the trailor and also a soft copy on the compouter so hed find it. Snoopy sneaky nosey basterd that he is. Each time he found it he never said anythin. But you coud tell he was probly thinkin about it.

At least for this vacation it worked: Granfather didnt wreck the rental place.

He hits the waves

The old creature agreed not to spoil the vacation. I think hes most scared of the part with the ascetiline torch--you know hes going for the Giuness record for the longest bodyhairs on his body.

Also granfather really loves the beach. Primarily for the bikiny beauties he drools and lears at thru the wrong end of a telephotoe lens. (We let him do it only if he agrees not to holler nasty things at them)

But he also loves to swim in the surf. He woke up screamin for us to take him out to the waves each day at 6am or earliar. He wheels out there in his wheelchair violentley fast kickin up sand like crazy which youd thing woud be inpossible but he does it. Good thing he has that third reptillian eyelid. Then he springs out of the chair an scampers across the sand like one of those Namib desert beetles in Africa that barely toutches the sand. And then he plunges into the waves. He cant kick his legs but can swim for huors just with his arms. Plus he has these neck crevices I swear are rudimentery gill slits. You know hes breathin out of them.

I remember bein a kid and granfather came to the beach in northern California and it was March and colder than hell. But the old beast swam out nearly a mile in rough water an came back covered with kelp. Also his face was cut and bleeding an he said he was atacked by otters. Yeah right.

A disguisting habit

I am one of the few peopel in this world who can tell you the color of horshoe crabs blood: Blue I swear it. How do I know this? My granfather eats them. Raw, the evil savage. Ive seen the nastey fluid run down his hollow pocked cheeks.

The damn ugley things are not even real crabs, I looked it up in a web site about Arthuropods and there in the frikkin spider family for godsake. But alas, because they dont serve them in restorrants with drawn butter (no not even here in Texas) my beastly forebear eats them raw.

Someon calls the rangers