Walter Miller's Homepage

Not quite Banned in Boston, but not quite fulley undorstood in Cambridge, either.

April 1998 Update

Page 4 of 8


Some things never change

The month of April begins with Granfather not having crapped for the first 2 weeks of it. He has been in extremly bad humor to the point of being barbarric. His angor and temper are exploasive. I didnt mix his Metamucil right the othor day, and he thretenned to take a bite out of my asscheek the size of a bran muffin. This is the sort of things he says. I dont know what's worse after hearring threatts like this: My shame, or my hurt fealings.

There is only one thing that can surpass the old bastord's sick sence of humor and that is the frustrattion he feels when he cant "go." For exampol they have been showing Whoopy Goldberg movies all week on one of the TV channols and the othor night we were watching Ghost. During the fammous "clay" scene where Demi Moor and Patrick Swazye are in the dimly lit room sittin at that potters wheel with all that wet bloppy clay while rommantic music plays in the backround, Granfather sudenly starts screamming and throwing beer bottols at the TV while hollering, "IF THIS HERE PART DON'T MAKE ME FEEL LIKE A FRESH POO, THEN THERE DIES ALL HOPE FER AN' OLD GOAT LIKE ME, GALLDANGIT."

Lator on in the film i got a little misty eyed, and i coud not help it, because in some parts Ghost is a sad love story, especialy when Patric Swazey floats off to heaven at the end. Letme make somthing clear: I was NOT crying, but my eyes got a little watery. But to Granfather this is sign of weakness and he called me a string of purposeley cruel names like "sensitive wuss" and also "dellicate daisy" and, (this is the worst one), a twirling pixie for Gods sake while throwin lit matches at me accross the darkened living room. Most of the matches go out when they fly thru the air and our carpet is so full of burn marks alredy it dosent matter. And so I ignored him. Until he screammed extremly loud while spittin whisky and tobaco juice on me, "ITS A CONSARN WHOOPY GOLDBERG FILM. THERE AIN'T NO REASON TO CRY, FAIRY BOY."

Peoplle somtimes write to me and say, "Walter, just try to get along with the old bastord." It is remmarks an outboursts like this which prove that i cannot.

Since my life stinks--I mihgt as well get the help I need

I descided that with all things considering I shoudnt play hookey from my therappy anymore. So last Saturday i made plans to start my sessions agian. All of this will help me learn to deal with problems in my life such as exaggoration and also confronting my fears. Plus another huge problem in my life: I am allways very stridently over-emphasizing the importance of the Internet to people who are not yet on it, and who JUST DONT CARE.

A test for me

I arranged to meet both of my counselors in the diner near where we live: My new councelor who I have been avoiding, and my old counselor who i am SUPOSED to be avoiding because I am in love with her, and who resigned as my counselor because my feelings presented an unprofesional conflict of interest. (Actualy I have been avoiding her, but somtimes I send her anonymuos love poems in the mail. Somhow, and I dont know how, she allwayes figuores out that it is ME sending them).

The idea of the meeting was to have a prelimonary discusion and set a schedoule of sessions. I beleive that this was a test for me becuase the two counsellors are trying to determine how foolish and desporate I act in the presense of the one i have a big crush on. If I do not act foolish then i pass the test which will be a big mark of maturrity in my life.

I am constently seeking self-vallidation and the aprovol of others. I know. Its imature and pathetic.

So anyway as soon as i arived i saw them both there in the booth and was imediatly faced with a dilemma. Do I sit next to my new counselor? The one I am NOT in love with? If so, i will be facing the one I love directly across the table and you know it can be awkword as far as glances and stairing and all of that. But then agian if I squeese in next to her on the same side of the booth it will appear like i want to get close to her.

For a moment I was frozon.

In adition to being very shy anothor big problem in my life is making descisions. I simply cannot ever make them. And when i finaly do, it is usualy the WRONG desicion.

While some people my same age struoggle with importent decisions in life such as what kind of routers or servers to buy for their deppartment, a loser like me is troubled decidding which side of the danm booth to sit on.

So I made a bold move. I DID sit next to my old counselor, only so I woud be facing my new counselor because she is the one who I am suposed to be having most of the conversation with. Another benefit of being across from her: In case I had to sneeze, or perhaps Godforbid somthin flew out of my mouth while i was talkin it woud hit HER and not the one I love.

I think the meeting went went pretty well. It was more of a freindly meeting than a confrontattion. I am skinny enuogh so I didnt touch the womon next to me. At one point she got up to pee and i made sure not to stare at her which is hard when your as beutiful as her. She is in her middol thirties which is 14 years older than me and I geuss her face and ass are starting -- perhaps just starting -- to get saggy and wrinkley but none of this mattors when you are in love. Thank God also that my new counselor looks the way she does becuase belive me there is NO CHANCE i will ever get a crush on her -- I swear it, the womon has a face like one of those old rubber Ross Perot Holoween masks.

Just aftor we ordered, my freind Cathyann walks past us because she just hapenned to be in the diner picking up a couple of freid egg samwiches to go. You are aware of the unusual freindly rellationship me and Cathyann have. Anyway, she gets into the booth sitting next to my new councelor, and right across from me. Both of my councilors also know Cathyann becuase it is a small town. She is very loud in public but can also be very funney and witty and so she had us all luaghing. It was one of the nicer small town Saturday mornings I coud remembor.

Other than Cathyann slipping her shoe off unbeknownst to my two counsellors and tryin to wiggle her fat bare toes under the table so no one coud see her foot digging and clawing deeper and deeper between my skinny thighs which i were tryin to clamp tightley shut as to prevent her from reaching the goal of my crotch, all four of us were having a verry good time.

Things begin to go downhill: GEUSS WHY

Yes becuase none othor than Granfather comes in thru the front door.

I had wrote last month about how Granfather had a large plastic molded owl affixed upright to the back of his head as to scare away small birds, lizords and mammals. The old beast alwayes experiences a "peculior time" of animal bloodthirst savagery each year in March and April where he lunges for small creatures in our yard eatting them alive. Well the owl was still there. Ecxept mysterriously the side of its plastic head was caved in.

Granfather was being wheeled in by Junior, our family freind, who just was coming back from driving the old bastord to the dentist. Yes, Granfather ocasionaly requires only a rare trip to the dentist because thanks to his sparkling habits of cleanliness and hygene he brushes his teeth every six months wether he needs to or not. Of cuorse, i mean that sarcasticaly but it is none the less true. There are very few dentists who will look the gift beast in the moulth and when they do they are usually wearing one of those HazMet suits complete with a seperete breathing aparattus and giant hip boots like Sculley wears on the X-Files when she is poking arround the lifeless body of some poor soul who's infested with the black motor oil alien. Also smart dentists who treat him shoud have a HEPA Rating Approved Air Filter, the kind that can usualy service an entire fertilizor power plant, strapped to his nose and mouth just for him to use only. Granfathers breath is THAT BAD.

So aneyway Junior wheels him in and as soon as Granpy sees us he shreiks with glee very loudly. The dentist he goes to is over 100 miles away (dont ask why) and i coud not figoure out why they are back over 2 hours early.

The old bastord comes right up to the table and screams at the top of his lungs with a cigaret cletched tight in his teeth, "LOOK AT MUH BOY HERE WITH ALL HIS PURTY GIRLFRIENDS!"

Then he says to my old counselor, the one I am in love with, "SEEMS YOU MISSED OUT BY REJECTING THIS YOUNG FELLER, MISSY. LAST MONTH I CAUGHT THE BOY MAULING SOME OTHER CUTE YOUNG SQUAW IN HIS BEDROOM."

The old bastord proceeded to tell the story of how Cathyann and me were in my room "doing the nasty". But she was atacking ME and not the othor way arround. Besides we nevor even got close to the nasty: I woudnt let her. Meanwhile Granfather is so stupid that he didnt relize that Cathyann was right there at the booth seated across from me. And that she was playing crotch footsie with me too under the table. Granfather twisted the story around to make it look like i was some sort of "smoldoring volcano of virile manhood" puoring out my lustful desires by ravishing some poor quivoring milkey skinned maiden who was cryin out "NO!", when she realy meant Yes! Yes! YES!

I know Granfather meant well. But he was presenting me like somthing i was not. Like i was the danm President of the United States or somthin. I was never so enbarassed before, I cannot tell you.

Atleast all the ladies liked the story becuase it made them laugh. Granfather can be pretty funny in a crowd althuogh the Prime Evil Ape Exhibit rather than a comedy stage is probly a bit more his speed. The women also were laughing becuase they all know me personaly and they know Granfather, and they are awarre that the old bastord was making it all up.

Cathyann was supposed to be in the diner meeting her sister; when the sister showed up, she scooted over to make room on the seat. Granfather looked at the 3 women squeezed into the seat across from me, and then shouted "WAAL, I GUESS THIS HERE SEAT COULD FIT THREE ASSES TOO," and to my shock and horrer the evil troll sudenly leaped out of the wheelchair and sqeeezed into MY seat, mashing me agianst my former counselor who I love (and i tell you I realy didnt mind one bit), but the price to be paid was to be mashed agianst the skinny bastord clawing and writhing and sqiurming on the other. I felt like i was in one of those cartoons where you have a little devil and a little angel on eithor side of you.

"AIN'T THIS COZY!" said the bastord real loud, the large plastic owl atached to his nodding head apearing to be bobbing in agreemint.

Junior was the only one still standing there withuot a seat and looking displaced and he said sort of softley "Whar in heck I'M s'posed to sit?" and Granfather said "I DONE KEPT MUH WHEELCH'AAR NICE AN' WARM FER YUH."

And then Junoir said, "YEAH and you kept it muckey and wet and smelly so I'd rathor stand, thank you very much."

My Uncles finalley arrive