Walter Miller Homepage

Life is simpley too short to be reading aneything else.

sEPTEMBER 1997 Update

Page 1 of 6


***I know i prommised this for Sept 9th and it went up instead on the 10th.***
WE HAD A POWOR OUTTAGE FOR 2 DAYS I AM NOT LYEING.

You, My readors howwevor are probly tiring of my ecxuses.

It has now been ovor 4 weeks since Granfathers acident.

Let me begin this update with a big CONCRADULATIONS to Randy in Akron, Oiho who is my quallified 1,000,000th hit to this home page. Randy, you dont win squat, ecxept the asurrance of knowing that you beat both me and that Canadian guy who were all at the same time reloading the screens in the middol of the night trying to get to exatcly 1000000. Just be glad Granfather was asleep at that time othorwise you coud imagine how pissed he woud be at you right now--so you are luckior than you think.

now for the Update

As you know the old bastord experrienced an excuciating life threatoning injury from his jelous spurned girlfreind. The jilted old banshee womon up and locked the two timing beast into the foldout bed while he was laying in it watching TV at my brothers house in California because he cheated on her. To say that Breakin Up is Hard to do is an undorstatement, when you are ensconced in a four foot sqaure cube of bent metal.

The sofabed was of course originaly much larger, but due to another acident when we were trying to move the bed while Granfather was still in it, it slipped off the balconey and fell 3 stories crashing flat on its end which compressed it into a yet smallor and more compact (if not more manouverable) mass of twisted wreckage, matted rancid fabric, and reptilian animol life.

Yes he is STILL locked in the bed

I later found out that being locked in a closed sofabed is usualy fatal but somhow Granfather survived. My dad got a hacksaw and tryed to work on one of the couch bars but granfather started screamin that the vibbrations were torturing him. We thought abuot pipe cuttors that plumbers use and also a blowtourtch but the old imprisoned bastord woud have none of it.

Granfather insisted loudley that we leave him exactly the way he is, and that if we atempted to free him, he would kill us all if its the last thing he did.

"Y'AWL ARE ALL GITTIN' SUED, Y'HEAR ME? EACH ONE, ONE AND ALL" he kept screamin at us. "I WANT THE JURY TO SEE ME DRUG INTO THE COURTROOM IN THIS HERE GET UP, LIKE SOME BIG OLE POSSUM IN A TRAP."

Granfather has an ammazing ability to adapt himself to situations where he is trapped and restrained. He is indeed a danm human pretzel and was once cought in a bear trap out in the woods as a child for about a week until he was able to pull the iron steaks out of the ground and stumble off home with the sharp steel claws of the trap, which weighed evon more than he did still snapped tihgt onto his boney thorax. I think he was only about 6 when that hapenned. (The little monstor climbed into the trap on purpose).

Then theres the wedding Picture

and not only that my Dad's wedding pictuore tells an even more telling story: There in the family portrait is Granfather in his best leisure suit facing the camera, only you cant see his face due to a large black and silver colored rectangulor obstructoin. Yes, shortley beffore Dad's wedding, Granfather got his long, prehensile riticulated tounge stuck in the coin return of a payphone. (You have to understand that while humans have a flat tounge, the old bastords is round in diameter. Imagine if you will one of those strong stringy antennas on a lobstor's head, exept forked at the end like a lizerd or demon).

They coudnt remove the tongue from the payphone so instead had to take the phone off the wall. Granfather then tryed to sue the phone company for a million dollors. But instead, they countorsued and settled out of court where it ended up that Granfather had to pay to replace the phone and not only that pay back the coins that was in it. The evil monstrossity that he is, Granfather was able to live a normal life with the phone stuck on his face, eating, drinking, smoking and partakking in an active sociel life which included mostley womon of ill repute for a full four months till the danm thing fell off by itself suddenly one day and it killed a chickon.

And now, years later with this sofabed, it is time for yet annother discraceful houmiliating chapter in our family's stained and tarnished history.

"I KIN STAY IN THIS HERE COUCH TRAP AS SNUG AN' COMFY AS A CLAM FER ANOTHOR TWENNY YEARS IF I MUST, GARLDANGIT. NOW SOMEONE GIT ME A CIGARETTE 'FORE I TAKE A BITE OUT O'THE NEXT PERSON'S ASS I COUD REACH."

Since the bastord agreed to act somwhat human if we left him be, we stopped all atempts to free him.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a doctor to make house calls in Southorn California. In any case we did get 2 of them to come. The first one came in and started trembling at the site of the evil restrained old troll. I mentionned that Granfather is bent into a bone crunching contourted position, with his back arched and his head upsidedown almost touching the floor.

It barely looks human

Most ofthe fabric and stuffing from the couch has ben revomed and peices of it are clinging to him amisdt the random mayhem of bed coils and crushed metal tubing which surround his misorable, heaving, scraggly, gnarled, pretzel-bent, pustule covored carcass. But there are allot of fluffy tufts from the couch's innards stuck to him and also what apears to be ancient 1930s era horsehair couch padding.

Granfather has a naturally gummy sticky leathery hide so it all sticks good. Considoring the position his body is tangoled into, my brother and I descided that he looks like an exact cross between one of those poor volcanoe encrusted guys from the Pompeeii exhibit circa 79 A.D. coated with molten ash as to be captured in a sudden writhing death, and the Creature from the Black Laggoon (or else an actor in the Creatuore suit), tarred and feathored by the angry men of a small town and throuwn under the tracks of a moving train.

Ecxept for the worst part

Yes, either of those woud be preferrable for him, rather 'it.' Because in our case, "IT" is unfourtunnatly still alive.

About that first doctor: He vommited and ran out of the house. Later he billed us and we still had to pay anyway.

The second doctor who came was an older guy who i coud tell was was sort of a wiseass, becuase he kept makkin nervous jokes. Also he was lookin around to see that there wasnt a hiddon camera or somthing around. He thuoght mabye one of his freinds was playin a trick on him or somthing. It coudnt of been a good doctor to begin with. Granfather kept snarling at him and the man kept walking arround toward the back to see if it was plugged in or somthing, like a machine with a ghastly foam rubbor aparatus.

He did not beleive it could be for real. But yes, trapped within the cage, granpy was indeed for real: An authentic shark-like cartiliginnous skeletol structoure surounded by the body of a genuine semi-extinked proto-hominid, and covered all with the uniqeu and anomolous combonation of giant wiggly black mamallian hairs and a scientificly factual scaly saurian hide.

After a halfhour, when granfather woudnt let him get close to him, this doctor left also, and Geuss what: We had to pay THAT doctor too.

DANM DOCTORS.

A decission is made.