FYI, I do own a cookbook. Special K got it for me along with a Crock-Pot. What pray tell, do I fill that Crock-Pot with for $35? I’m going to need a ton of Bloom. Speaking of blooming, how many women are there? Braxton, Virgil, Pie Instructions.
Friday, October 23, 2026
Legacy 114 -Braxton, Virgil, Pie Instructions-
Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… And not about Braxton, my pancake? Or a scoop of Virgil. Vanilla? Cookies n’ Cream? Possibly.
I’m a monster, but nowhere near the likes of Mango Mussolini. Eating the dogs, indeed!
I’m not that hungry. But I got $35 and five days. The grocery bill will be quite the short read, my lady. Like how to feed Virgil his birthday pie from Tuesday. Glad he approves.
What kind of pie were you thinking of? The kind that required me to have “The Talk” with Braxton about going all doggy style when his Favorite Girl came over for movie nights. Virgil won’t have that problem. Six years, Lady Sophia, that’s one year too late for when I found him. I wonder if he’d have more balls? Seriously, did I just say that?
Anyway, my boy likes his pie. Like father, like son.
“Pinch me, pinch me
‘Cause I’m still asleep
Please, God, tell me
That I’m still asleep.”
Barenaked Ladies ‧ 2000
Because you know if I’m hanging out in Braxton’s Room, watching Virgil eating from his pillow… I need to get him a new bed. Again, I got $35, but what about my “discretionary spending?” You gotta put “One Foot In Front Of The Other.” And I’m not a selfish prick…
Speaking of pricks, what was I doing again? Oh yeah, I was organizing yabbos. Oh, Exhibit A? I think even Braxton and Virgil’s potential future stepmom would be surprised by my comparisons in relation to hers. And for the record, hers are perfect. And she’s the only woman, besides my Ma and Braxton’s Favorite Girl, who’s offered to cook for me. Uh… That requires money. Today’s settled. “Odds are, he won’t live to see tomorrow”
Or so I tell the “Man in the Mirror.” No, I’m not a “Secret Agent Man”; I’m a dog dad.
Lady Sophia, as long as Virgil needs me… I still remember when Braxton’s Favorite Girl baked B III a cake and thought I was so STUPID I would put the whole thing in. Brain Trust.
I can’t blame her. I can’t blame anyone either. The Day Job or the Bad Place, my boys would bark. Look up the definition of “Village Idiot”. There’s me with a box of whatever, my lady. “That’s me in the corner. That’s me in the spotlight. Losin’ my religion.” What?
His name was Braxton; it was a book I forgot, another boy, a son to teach. Braxton, Virgil, Pie Instructions.
2091 Days Without B III, Day 1532 of Virgil’s Arrival
B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters
Will
