Walter Miller's Homepage

"FORGET ABOUT WORLD PEACE...VISUALIZE USING YOUR DANM TURN SIGNAL YOU DUMB ASS SUMBITCH!"
-- Somthing you risk being hollared out at anothor motorist when Granfather is a passenger in your car.

The Late March 1998 Update

Page 5 of 7


My family bellives that I am making it all up so they feel sorry for me. Or atleast exageratting Granfathers horroble bowels and awful smells and general meanness and cruelty. But I am not. EVERYTHING you read here is 100% true I swear it. OK, somtimes i exagorrate but mostly, or at least somtimes I dont. Well, usually. But in any case I have been in an enclosed space when hes layed a big fart and belive you me, it can take the white color out of rice, the black color out of automobbile tires and make the ink run rihgt off the newspaper, and this is before the papper bursts into flame. Once after he was in our poor abused bathroom crapping i saw with my own eyes the porcelian glaze on the bathtub crackol up and conpletely de-porcelainize itself into crumbling chips which fluttered right off and onto the floor leaving only the bare cast iron shell.

And do you know what he did right aftorward? Alls he did was lauagh and say, "SOMONE LIGHT A MATCH!"

Yeah, right a match my ass. One of those 800 foot high smokey flaiming plumes from when the Iraquis bombed the Kuwaiti oil wells during the Gulf War that burnned for 2 months, now that woud of been more like it.

'Must see TV'(R)

Is the abbove phrase copywrighted by NBC? Who the hell knows. But I do know that Toblerrone(R) is. That is the segmentted chocollate in the yellow triangulor box. Granfather was watching Friends with me Thurrsday and saw a large one of those on the show that Ross's English girlfreind had at the airport.

When Granfather saw that, he demmanded that I imediately leave and drive off to the rest stop on the freeway which is like a half huor drive away and buy one of those for him. (Our local Mini-Mart does not carry Tobblerone). Granfather claimed that aftor 2 days of continuol gorging he was now "ready to go to the bathroom" and that he was in the mood for the ecaxt Toblorone chocoloate that he saw on Freinds.

But i did not WANT to leave to do that. Freinds is, like, my favorrite show. (Oh man, I cant bellive I just addmitted that on the Internet).

Howevor Granfather had just one thing to say to me: He narrowwed his yellow diamond shaped Kimodo dragon eyes so the red pupils were just thin, reptilian verticol slits and simpley said to me in a low, mean evil hissing satannic voice:

"BUDDY THE DOG!"

Oh crap, I coud tell the bastord meant business. I high tailed it out of there as fast as i coud.

When i returned, Toablerone in hand, (but not nearly as large as the one on the show), I knew that i had missed the festivities so to speak. Glorey Be, Granfather had crapped, and he had crapped on his own. I coud smell the odor all the way out at the head of our gravel driveway and that is a halfmile from the trailor.

When I walked inside, my eyes burning, the TV was still blairing. Friends was over, and a comercial break of E.R. was on. Granfather was standing up by the sink makking himself a cup of tea and pouring Bacardi 151 in it and he called out to me "WHAR'S MUCH CHOCOLATE, BOY?"

I tossed the prism-shaped Italien import onto the kitchon table. Granfather was wearin a fresh diapor and his old diappor was on my chair (Oh, yuck, and it was 'face down' too), and the wheelchair, (which, if you havennt figuored it out by now, he DOSENT ALWAYS NEED, ecxept when manippulating members of his familly), was in its proper place and there sitting on the turqiuose naugahyde wheelchiar was a perfectley formed giant polygonal peice of 100% Pure Granfather.

"LIKE THEM EDGES, BOY? IMPRESSIVE, AIN'T IT?" he creid cheerfuly. I will not tell you what it was shaiped like. But i WILL tell you who had to cleann it up: ME.

Later on the bastord forced me to spend the rest of the evening with him as he was in a good mood. We crowded onto our tiny rickety wood porch landing which is just big enuogh for 2 peoplle to stand on, none less sit. He sat there with that plastic owl stil atached to his head and chocloate smeared onto his already filthey face slobborin it all over and also drinkin his tea with his pinkey out in a purposely anoyying feminine way that he knows galls me, while he rambolled on incessently and pontifically about his philosophy of relationships, lovers, and Freinds.

"HERE'S A SECRET, BOY," he said to me. "WOMEN DONT WANT NO TOUCHY-FEELY SENSITIVE TYPES LIKE ROSS AND CHANDLER."

"THEY WANT MEAN, STUPID, MANLY MEN LIKE YER OLD GRANPY HERE" and then he bit his lip and shut one eye and made a loud fart that was so sharp in sound that it exploaded one of the long purple bulbs that go in the bug zapper. Brokken glass got everywere.

Disgousting, awful man

You know, if i have to pay my due to the Courts, and I too must also be denied the womon I love because of emotionol problems, then Granfather shoud not get off the hook. I refer to his mistreatment of small animalls. After I went to bed the old bastord turned off the bug zappor and lit up a cigarete and started waving it around. Granfather is very tallented, or shoud i say adequettly suited for predatory animal life in the wild. He can wave it in a way that bats who fly arround our property are fooled into thinking that its a firefly and so they dive for it. Then he darts out his stickey lizerdlike tounge to catch them in mid flight for a mercifull quick death, And he does it with a plastic owl on his head no less too.

Uh-oh, i just mentioned TUONGE again....

Friday night

OKAY, I will now tell you what hapenned with Cathyann that i started to write about earlier on the first page of this upddate. My stomoch is suficiently seasoned and my fragile ego adequatly beleagured as to finaly share it.

More problems for me.