Walter Miller's Homepage

The other white meat.
Even thogh we all know its August this is


Page 1 of 7


This update begins in a horobble scene. It is the scene of me, Granfather and a man named Dr. Blankenship, (not his real name), all three of us dealing with a ghastley sittuation.


The screams are from Granfather. Actualy, they are not screams. They are the sound of somone tryin to scream who has a large ax handol in his mouth.

The old basterd is in awfull pain. He is seated in this old medicol examination table that Junior, a neihgbor of ours got out of a junkyard abuot 20 years ago. It is the kindof table that can be moved to acomodate someone in a halfseatad position. A seafoam green naugohide table with lots of rips in it where dirtey yellow foam is stickin out. Theres suposed to be paper rolled over it. Like thats suposed to protect you from germs from the last persen who was layed on it. How many thoasands of asses have sat on this table while doctors over the decades have prodded and poked I dont even want to know. Well it dosent mattor anyway cause no ones as disgousting as Granfather.

An awfull scene

Me and Dr. Blankenship are standing side by side, each holding oposite ends of a large axe handol which is suspended in the air horizontolly as Granfather screams AAAAAAAAIIIIGGHHH!. We are pushing it in front of us and away from with all our weihgt. Our heels of our feet are pressed agianst the wall. We too are screammin becuase we are pushing very hard.

Somthing is holding us back as we push: Granfather. The centor of the ax handol is in his mouth. He is sitting allmost upright on the table and his feet are pushin hard agianst this metol bar across the bottem of the bed. He is pushing hard cause he is tryin to go to the bathroom.

Granfather has not crapped in a very long time. As you know from pryor updates he was forcibley given a tile grout enema by his brothors who tryed to kill him. The grout is now out but he still hasent crapped. Please dont mak me go into any more detail.

Lets back up here a minute

As if the old basterd isnt backed up enough. I must say its a prettey sad state of affairs when you WANT granfather to go to the bathroom. Each time he does we lose part of the ozone and somwhere, somhow, anothor species goes extinked down in South America. Okay I am gettin ahead of myself. Even thuogh Granfather is so teribbly behind. Thanks to his teribble behind.

In any case I have a small appollogy to make. When we ended the last update I was makin out with a girl in her car. I know that sounds cool but it wasnt as cool as you think. I wrote abbout how my freind Cathyann (who is only a freind and NOT my girl freind) and me were smooching by the side of the highway. I haveto admit somthing here, and it is kind of dificult for me to admit but I will go on anyway because that is the right thing to do. I mentionned in my last update that Cathyann was atacking me. She was sort of at the end, but in the beginning part of us making out I did not fight her off. I guess I shoud of, because I did not enjoy it, but I did not do nothin to stop what was going on. Insted I kind of let her make out with me. At least at first. I was only planning to let her make out with me a little bit but then things got outof hand. Therefore I appollogize.

Also, right after I published my last homepage update, I apollogized in person to Cathyann in case my descritpion of her and me making out in any way enbarassed her.

Anyway speaking of embarased it was VERY enbarassing when the danm sheriff pulled up and there we were in the car. We were only smoochin a few minuts and then I wanted to stop and then right at that point Cathyann took her top off and then i REALLY wanted to stop and so for about 5 minuts and I was involunteraly making out with her and on second thoght mabye it was for at least ten. It is very hard to explaine.

The sheriff was very diplomattic about it cause it was very late afternoon with the sun streamin in the car and he very nicely said somthin about Cathyann "gettin sunburnt where she didnt want to," and so he let us off with a warning. We both patientley listened to him while Cathyann who is sort of a big sweattey girl breathed heavey and still with her top off scratched herself under her armpit with one hand and sat up a bit into sort of a squat as she treid to pluck a wedgie out of her shorts with the othor. I had to keep swallowin hard and lookin away or else Id of ralphed allover her mom's car.

Dispite the whole thing bein embbarasing I am actualy glad that he drove up cause anothor few minuts and I woud of eithor suffocated to death, (dont ask) or else bled to death. She was biting my freakin neck. It was like makin out with a vampire.

For some reasen we coudnt find Cathyan's tubetop in the frenzy and all 3 of us spent a few humiliatting minutes lookin for it in and around the car. Finaly I took my shirt off and let her put it on. Then the sheriff gave Cathyann a breathalizer test because he saw the emptey beer cans. He said she her blood alchohol was 'borderline' and being that she was sweatting by the gallon he waited a minite or so and tested her agian. She must of sweatted out enough that second time to pass the test. This is an extremly small town and an arrest really woud of made evereyone feel bad all arround. He is a realy nice sheriff.

As soon as the Sheriff was out of sight Cathyann hiked up her danskins and peed half on the prairie and the rest on the state route shouldor, squatted half bent over and winking at me.

"Maybe we'll pick this up sometime where we left off," she said in her throatey rasp. Then she said, "Wait up!" winced and then shook out a fart, grinning.

"Don't git yer panties in a wad, Walt, the wind's blowin' it behind me," she said. And just then as a 21-wheelor drove past at about 70, blastin his horn with glee as he passed her bare ass pointin at him in the westbound lane she said, "Whoops! no more it ain't!"

I dont care what the sherif said she was probly not all totally NOT drunk yet.

An awful scene at home

She drove me home the last half-mile and barreling into our yard sprayin gravol and dirt and scairing the hell out of our dogs and chickens who ran all over to get away.

There was some loud music comin from the trailor, and also loud teribble grunts, screams and men shouting. The music part was some wailing Texas surf guitar, I think Dick Dale or mabye Link Wray. The horroble yelling and savage animol noises were from Granfather and at least one of the othor criptozoologists who was hollorring at the old basterd.

It sounded like I was standin outside the door while that awful scene was going on from Pulp Fiction. I will not mentoin the scene because you know what scene it is.

"You better git your ass inside thar, Walt," said Cathyann.

What I saw was Dr. Blankenship struggoling to set up the green naugohyde examinnation table while Granfather was already on it, howling in the throws of awfull lower gastro pain.

Blankenship was pissed at me. I was suposed to have gone into town to get him this lithium battory for his camera and i ended up at Cathyann's house, and then you know what hapenned after that. I was gone more than an hour.

He snapped at me, "Aye, you've been a-dilly-daddlin', laddie!"

I said to him that we did NOT do that. She had her danm top off but my pants stayed on the whole time.

After Blankenship gave me a quick stern lectoure on the price of the danm battery, (cheap Scotsman, it is the ONLY place in the danm county that sells them), he started talkin all rapidly sayin that the "contractions were one minite apart" and that I'd bettor get the danm ax handol into the old basterd's moulth with him or else Granfather might die.

Ass Wide Shut

We pushed and Granfather pushed too. But no fruit was borned. One or twice Blankenship took one hand off the ax handel and carefully slid his palm ovor Granfather's distended bloated stomoch, gentley feeling thruogh two layers of medicol glove latex the giant lump beneath the old basterd's slimy heaving guts.

"'Tis a mighty load 'neath all this haggis," said Blankenship, in his severe ovorly dramatic tone.

"I'd venture 'tis nigh bigger than a sack of mutton heads. The problem is that yer Granpap no wanna plop her out."

"WHUT THE HAYLE YOU MEAN I DON'T WANNA CRAP?" Granfather screamed, half muffoled from the peice of wood in his mouth.

"You canna' plop because you no wanna," Blankenship shoutad back in his Scotish brogue, "Ye don't have the fire in the belly!"

Granfather bucked and thrashed in anger and the ax handol came out from his jaws. He howled, "OF COURSE THAR AIN'T NO FIRE. IT'S A GIANT POO, YUH DUMBASS SUMBITCH."

The sugestion that Granfather was somhow holding back was infuriatting to him. He lunged at the docter as to bite his nose off, and just as he did, Blankenship cried, "Aye! It moved! 'Tis anger and rage that gets him a-going!"

Now we knew what we had to do:

Get Granfather angrey