Resistance agianst stupidity is indeed futile, but sombody has to do it.
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I am sorry this was such short notice as to let my readors know I was there at Internet World, but as you know I am a very shy person. I am mutch more interresting over the internet than i am in persen. Plus, Netly realy didnt want to make a big deal out of my being there. In fact I ovorheard someone who works there saying, (quite unneccessarily, in light of my personal and familly problems), that if they wanted a danm sideshow at their booth they woud of set up Granfather in a cage and charged a dollar a peek.
I immagine also that they are planning to fire me. I dont know why, but I just do.
I will write more abbout Internet World and my trip lator in this Update.
Also, do you remembor i wrote about that company who was interrested in producing animated cartoons about my life? Well i finaly met with the main content producor guy from that company, becuase they too were at Internet world, and one night we went out to supper to talk BISINESS.
Boy was he shocked to meet me!
When i showed up at his booth he said to me "I CANT BELIVE YOU REALY EXIST!!" I said well of COURCE i exist. There are, howevor, rumours to the effect that I do NOT realy exist. I gentley explained to him that,--DUH!--you CANNOT belive everything you read on the internet.
He told me that he thoght "Walter Miller" was really some sort of collabborative group of bi-coastal bad boy juornolists who are famous in real life. Well, I showed him my danm plane ticket from Texas with my name on it as proof. (Why is it no one thinks aneything good can come out of the middle of the countrey? Considor the sucess of young Mr. Dell.)
So, (once agian!) for the record, (and let me try to adress all the rumors here Ive heard thus far all at once):
I AM A REAL PERSON.
NO, I AM ME.
- I am not a group of Cal tech or M.I.T students pullin a trick.
- I am not an acountant from Trenton.
- I am not some loser in South Market who coudnt get a job at Suck or Wired.
- I am not Ted Turner.
- i am not the President of Progidy, Geocities or Hotmail.
- I am not a frustratted fortysomthing VP level software exetutive in New York.
- i am not a strouggling fifty-somthing comedy writer in L.A. with a bad hairweave named 'Morty' who wears velour running suits and face bronzing lotion and drives one of those champaigne-colored '83 Cadilac Sevilles with a pile of unread scripts in the trunk who wears a diamand pinky ring.
- I am not an Ilinois math professor who wears a turban named 'Habib'.
- I am not a female. I am not an alien.
- "I AM NOT AN A-N-I-MAL!!! (Sorry, i had to do that. Did you see The Elephent Man?)
- I am not Mike Dell (althuogh i know som people who work for him).
- I am not Brent Spiner, Scott Adams or Dave Barry (but thanks anyway!)
- I am not Steve Jobs, Nathen Mirvhold or Marc Andreeson.
- I am not Paul Allen, Steve Ballmer or Nick Negroponte.
- I am not even John Dvorak.
- I am not really Granfather doing a scheme to enbarras Walter.
- I am not Penn. Or Teller.
- I am not one of Al Gore's daughtors and her boyfreind.
- Or Garrison Keilor, or Robin Wiliams or Joe Bob Briggs.
- I may howevor be George Stephonnopolus (just kiding).
OK, having said that, I will write more about that meeting with the cartoon guy in a bit.
Ooops! I forgot: One more:
- The bad spelling is exaggorated. Some of it is true typoes, but some of it is actualy deliborate. I know, its lame, and pittiful. I do it so people pay atention to me, and because i need a 'trademark' to boost my poorselfimage. I oppologize.
Now, then. Before I write about what hapenned at Interet World, I will first write about what went on back home in Texas that led up to my trip.
In case you havent been reading my updates, abuot a month ago one of Granfather's testicles got coght in the drain of a hot tub out in our yard durin a hot epson salt bath which he regulorly takes for huge boils on his ass.
Because he wants to sue the hot tub manufactorer, my hideous progenitor declined all our eforts to free him. The old bastord insted insisted on remaining in his position of testiculor ensconcement, maintaining the sequestered gonad in its place in hopes of being wheeled into the courtroom during his product liabilitty trial as a living spectocle of human stupidity as well as consumor victimhood. Theres a foam pillow in there with him for his friggin head.
But you stay on aneyway, and you say all these awful things to one anothor that both of you know you dont mean, yet will take years to forget, and you are hollering hoarsely and cryin at the same time. Also you bring up allot of bad things from the past that you thought that sureley by now the othor person woud of forgot. But they didnt.
Only around the holidays does this level of heartbraeking type of marathon phone fights evor seem to happan and lately they occur with savings of up to 50% on calls ovor 20 minitts by dialing one, the area code, and then ten, three-two-one.