Walter Miller's Homepage

Almost half as old as 'The Simpsons'.

The Late January 1999 Update

Page 3 of 4

I opened the door to find Granfather watchin Judge Wopner presiding over that Animal Court show.

"HOW HUMILIATING," mused the basterd out loud pointing at the screen, "SORT O'REMINDS ME OF HOW THE WEB HAS LEFT POOR WALTER BEHIND."

Ripke was in the corner of the room in the fetol posittion crying. Granfather never saw me, but I put my hand over my moulth after I saw him. The horobble beast had his finger stuck in the jet hole betwean his ribs, pokin it in and out. Each time he did, a flame shot out his nostrol, and also lit his ugly eyeballs from behind with a red glow.


I shut the door and went back to sleep. The next day I left for work earley just as Granfather's girlfreind, the virtuol biological eqiuvalent of H. Ross Perrot was driving up in that pink Mary K. cosmettics Cadilac that she swares she dosent own, but just is borowwing from a freind.

We have a dirt road that leads to the County Route which is on our propertey for almost half a mile and it is propperly wide as to allow two cars to pass if they drive slow enuogh but that never stops the female H. Ross from barrolling through in the center of it at 40 MPH kickin up stones. I actauly had to pull in the ditch to avoid a sideswipe. Even as we passed I coud hear her twangey voice peirce the air as she yapped at me, "Git out the way, fairy bwah!

She is so danm short all you see in the car is her tiny knuckols on the steering wheel and the tops of her frikin ears.

Meanwhile at work somthing unusuol hapenned.

The first thing was, that my computer didnt boot proporly. There was somthing ovbiously wrong with it. Also, I coudnt log onto the lan. I kept gettin these connection errors.

I turned arround to see my former boss, the little formerly perky toadfaced little woman standing there behind me. Next to her was one of the programmors. He is one of the higher-up programmors and he has a bad atittittude and everyone hates him becuase he is so mean and alwayes talks to you like you are stupid.

He is fat and has long reddish head-and-facial hair allover his body and because of this, (and also because he is indeed very extremly smart), plus has this large Homer Simpson-sized protruding lip area, evereyone calls him (behind his back of cource), "Dr. Gaius," after the portly yet authorratative orangutan who was allways bustin everyone's ass in "Planet Of The Apes."

The programer was talkin very sternly to me that I had "too much stuff on my hard drive."

Well the reasen for that was that I was once yelled at and told to take my stuff off the network cause I had too much stuff there.

So insted, I had tryed to requisittion a Zip drive, or more floppies but they coudnt give them to me becuase of bugdet considerations.
Stupid, Kafka-esque, contra-dictatorial cheap corporate basterds.

Anyway, the progammer told me that I had to get off my machene so my dumb former boss, who was now a workstation Support persen coud install some softwear on my machine. (Now if that wasnt a scarey thoght.)

Then the fat bully atcualy pushed me out of the way with his big rounded Planet of the Apelike shouldor. Somtimes he wears a Nehru collor and a tan vest and I tell you on those days his resenblance to the real Dr. Gaius will scare the danm cold hell out of you. It was just then that i noticed a small red envolope taped to my keyboard.

Oh, Crap

There was a peice of pink paper that said in fancey printed script on top:
Roses Are Red..."
...and then handwritton on it was this poem:

Rosie's a Red

I say we fire her

I'm your drop-dead

Secret admireror...



There was allot of perffume splashed on the note and a bunch of X's and O's. The note was unsigned. The grammor was terse, and stilted. Even a bit corny. And "Secred Admiror" and "Vallentine" were bolth mispelt, and takin all those things into considderation, well, I haveto admitt, it kind of turned me on.

I am not very good with the opossite sex and I qiuckly went down each row of cubicals, mentally, as to figoure out who it might be. Not that I care abbout looks, but a few of the womon who work there are real bowsers. But atleast these few had husbends or Significint Othors. In any case there were plenty of cute babes at work who coud of wrote it. Oh boy!! I had bettor start tryin real hard not to act like a jerk. (Anymore than usuol that is).

I started to walk down the hall holding it and thoght I woud show some of my freinds the note when I sudenly stopped in midstride when I reallized i didnt have no freinds at work. I turned arround and went back to my cube. Dr. Gaius, who was comin the opossite direction pushed past me agian, muttoring and acting very busy and distracted. I hate when peoplle at work act busy and distracted. Here at Cyberblop nobody is that busy. It is all a bunch of crap.

My formerley perky, former boss who is still very curently both nosy and a pain in the ass, aproached me on mincing steps. She still had that scowl on her face. The scowl of humilliation of being demoted to Workstation Suport. (As if that was MY problom).

"Your Computer is all fixed," she said in a huffy tone. I was goingto say to her, "If you dont LIKE your job why dont you quit but insted all I said was "OK."

Then she tells me, (still acting huffy), that my brother called, and that him and Junior are to meet me at the restuaront tonight at 7:30.

This pissed me off

Why the hell coud she not let the message go to my phonemail? The nosy litle hag had to pick up my phone.

Then when I got back to my desk I saw that all the icons on my desktop were MOVED AROUND.

Yes they were arranged into a stuppid design.

Now I was upset.

I turned arround agian and she was now outside in Marlborro Country smokin with her freinds. I said to her that I did NOT apreciate this and she said my icons were aranged "disorderly" and some sutch crap about strait rows. I tell you I dont give a crap abuot straihgt rows: Alls I want is to be able to find my frikkin shortcut icons to the danm R: Drive so I can do my danm job.

Worst of all when I got back to my computor I was all screuwed up. I mean, TOTALY screwed up: I coudnt even boot the danm OS. I had systom errors up the wazoo and bad sectors down the ying-yang. Plus my machene was beeping and grinding. Two of the Java guys heard the noise and they wandored over to my cube.

"Your effed-up, man," one of them kept sayin, "You're bare assed effed-up."

I am so bad at confrontattions

I coud not belleive I had to go out and talk to Toadface agian. I am no longor wondorring why she hasnt quit. Now I am wondorring why they didnt fire her. I geuss I can allmost understand giving somone a crappy job in hopes they will quit, but please dont make me deppendent on their crappy job.

When I saw her the scowl on her face was smaller, and more bitter and tightor than ever. She looked like shed been suckin on lemons all day. Imagine someone with a head the size of a saucer whose face was all comppressed into the little tiny circle in the centor where the teacup sits. Her face lookd as if somone had layed an automottive radiator hose clamp arround her eyes, nose and moulth and twisted the danm thing down to the size of a nickle.

"If you want workstation support," she said to me all prissy, "You have to go thru the new Support procedure."

What the new Support proceedure is