Walter Miller's Homepage

Corny cynicism masquerading as trendy sophisticattion

Late Augost/Early Septembor 1998 Update

Page 3 of 8


He looked puffey and sick.
Also Bloated and acting wierd

I wrote in my last update abbout how Granfather had swalowwed somthing that he hopes will get him into the Guiness Book of Records. He woud not tell me what it was he swallouwed, no mattor how much I asked him. Howevor it was easy to tell there was somthin wrong with him. For the first week there was a bulge just below his throaght, and this soon moved deeper into his chest. His normaly emaciatted meager scraggley frame seemed strained. His breathing was faster and irreggulor. It almost seemed as if his heart was workin harder and harder. I did not know for sure but if I had to geuss, I woud of specullated that Granfather had some sort of large parrasitic thing growing in his body.

"What did you swalloew, Granfather," I asked him mabye 8 times in the last week. Each time he said in return,

"NONE O'YORE DAD-GUM BIDNESS, BOY."

Meanwhile i allways know what will happan: He will get himself into som problem or annother and i will have to bail him out.

Cruel, abbusive old basterd

The smoke detecter in the living room started to make that intermittent chirping sound. This is an indicattor that the battory has to be replaced. Granfather started screamin at me, "GIT OFF YER ASS AND CHANGE IT, BOY.

"Y'HEAR ME, BOY?," and he loves to pronnounce the word 'Boy' to be "BWAH".

Well aneyway as soon as I change the batorry Granfather always comes up behind me to poke me behind the knee with a broom handol or his cane. Its a good thing that I am tall enough and the ceiling is low enuogh for me to change the baterry because if I ever had to get on tippy toes and he poked me behhind the knee, I woud fall on my ass.

Saved by the phone

The phone in my room was ringing. Theres onley a few peoplle who know the numbor becuase it is not in my name. One of those peoplle is my pain in the ass boss. She was callin to tell me that she had some great idea to help me out. It seems she has some freind, suposedly some realy good freind who was a career counselor and who was VERY polished and profesional and sucessful and she rambled on and on about how this person coud help counsel me to "re-focus my career priorraties."

Help me in which way, I asked. She did not know. But she did say that me and this guy shoud 'Touch base'. I asked her WHY shoud we touch base. She said she did not know.

Boy i tell you if there is one thing I cannot stand in this danm internet industrey it is the friutless and everpresent toutching of base. I am sorry but peoplle who touch base without a motive othor than just to 'touch base' are like peoplle who aproach strangers in a public place to ask personol qeustions.

"Touching base" for humans is like sniffing butts for dogs. They dont know why they do it, they sureley cant enjoy it, but they just have to do it probly cause the other dog always expects you to do it.

When I came outside my room Granfather was burgundey colored with dark rage. He was sputtoring and howling but I finaly figuored out what was the problem. After I had turned the basterd's web browser to PITCURES OFF abuot a week ago, I sort of expected him to naturolly gravitatte toword dirty text stories on the Newsgroups and so I turned off his access to that as well. Ah yes, but aparantly it didnt take long for his small Gibraltor Ape-sized brain to reallize that he coud locate day-old archives of the same newsgroups stories off the web, in places like Atlavista and Dejanews.

The screamming this time was becuase one of the archived postings from alt.sex.storeis that the basterd found had been reproduced on the Web in such a way that certian lines of text scrolled way off of the page horrizontally. Did you evor see when this hapens on the web? A scrollbar usually apears on the bottom of the screen which you have to move from side to side in ordor to read the story. And toword the bottom, there is allways one danm line that trails off for, like a mile.

"GOLLDANGIT!" Granfather screammed.

"JEST AT THE PART WHEN THE BIKER CHICK TURNS THE LIGHTS OFF IN THE MOUNTAIN MAN'S CABIN, THIS HERE DANM TEXT SCROLLS OFF TO THE RIGHT!"

As i peered at the screen, Granfather slapped me. I said to him, "DO NOT hit me or i willnot help you." But as you can imaggine he ignoared me and kept it up.

"LOOKY HERE, BWAH, AT THIS HERE CONSARN SENTENCE."

"WHY, IT STARTS HERE IN TEXAS BUT SCROLLS WAY THE DAGNAB HELL OFF EAST NIGH CLEAR INTO ARKYSAW!"

I had had enuogh of Granfather and I just had to get away from the house, and so i drove to the Mini Mart off on the state highway to pick up a coupel of things. It was now quite late at night but they are open allmost 24 hours.

At the checkout countor I ran into this old lady there, who lives in town, and she told me that she saw my brother and my sisterin Law going into the fancy coffee bar earlier today. (The fancy cofee bar that used to be the Feed and Grain.)

I told her that she must be misteakon because my brother lives in California, and besides, he woud of told me if he was comin to town, (and besides that as well: My brothor, along with his wife both viciousley hate Granfather's guts, and are curently in the middle of a family feud with him; In fact, on Thangksgiving last year I heard them both swear that the only time theyd ever come back to Texas woud be to throw a huge celebretory picnic in the County Park in honor of the funeral of the cruel sonoffobich, and there even is talk that in the next local ellection a quartor-of-a-penny-proporty tax increase will be on the ballot in order to help finance the event. This is how much peoplle in our parts, not only my family, hate Granfather).

On the way back i stopped in the diner for a peice of pie. I dont know i was just in the mood for some pie. The food stinks at this place but its the onley restuarant in town. Also i havent been eating well lateley and i have to get my weight up. I think its nerves.

Junior is in the parkin lot

I dont know why he buys his cigarets here becuase they are much more expensive but thats his problom. (Junoir is not extremley bright). He had a big shiner on his left eye and I asked him abbuot it and he told me he hurt himself. In fact it hapenned at our trailor when he came there a few days ago to fix somthing for Granpy and he tripped and hit his eye on the cornor of our cheap cofee table.

He began acting odd and startad mumbling. I said 'Speak up Junoir.'

He said to me, "I didnt see no one from your fambly this week...I mean, MY fambly."

I asked him what the hell he was talkin abuot but he said NOTHIN. Then he changed the sujbect. He said that aftor he hurt his eye on the cofee table, Granfather didnt help him at all or offor him a Bandaid or nothin. Acording to Junier the old basterd just sat there watchin the Discovory channel's latest installment of Venom Week and just laughed his skinny horroble ass off.

I retturn back to the car