Chronicle 199 ~Don’t B A Douche~

WillLeave a comment

I’ve been reading about looking for signs and how kids can mimic their parents. When I was mad and B was crying, I should have noticed. As for signs, Mr. Miyagi’s Dad was 3 days of mourning, Prince Hector had 12, B will have 16. Don’t B A Douche

Sunday, January 16, 2022

Chronicle 199 ~Don’t B A Douche~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and here’s one more lie. Why not a piece of advice. Don’t B A Douche. You Will.

Now there are reasons for this. So let’s go with “the good, the bad, and the ugly?” whatever. Tomorrow’s MLK Jr. Day. And people are giving money in Betty’s name. Conservatives… Racist Republicans are trying to erase “culture.” As they’re fond of saying with the Confederacy. Oh, you got no beef with Betty White. You do have rage with the Day Job. It’s one of the reasons I did what I did yesterday, and it ain’t gonna work out. I’m sorry. I wonder how many times you’re going to utter those words over the next sixteen days. Fuck Humanity, you apologize to B, B III, Braxton Barks Bradford. He’s owed an apology. Who knew 350 days ago, you’d be here without B III and once again these Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Jack McAfghan: Letters From Rainbow Bridge, Kate McGahan
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 010 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 003 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of My B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

So the question becomes what are you going to do because it ain’t this. You’re going to be a bastard. No, a douche? It’s written somewhere that it’s not illegal to call a toddler an asshole. But frowned upon. Braxton is your son. Died at fifteen, sixteen, last year. That’s around seventy-six dog years, hmm. And you’ve cried them all from January 31 – NOW. You owe B III your life, but at the very least, you can give him 16 days, ok. Oh yeah, look up the word douche. I was thinking about that while warning Braxton’s Aunt last night. It’s what you called him anytime he pissed you off. To think you’re not mad at him at all. But for him, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Reading Jack McAfghan Reflections of Life With My Master
  2. I WILL BE Building Braxton’s Memorial Page And Waking Up On Time
  3. I WILL BE Editing Braxton’s Book “My Turn To B III.”
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants, (Day 003 No Fap) No Exceptions, Mourning Braxton
  5. I WILL BE Purchasing My First Physical Portrait For Braxton’s Frame
  6. I WILL BE Honest With All I Encounter, No Bullshit or Caveman Answers, B Is Honest

You’re going to be giving this same speech next week, I bet. 2 weeks and 2 days, to be specific. That’s more than enough time to figure out what you’ll be doing come the day. Hell, instead, you want to be mad at yourself, the Day Job, your Old Man. Who in their fucking mind 30 minutes after a loss says, “get a new kid?” That’s not being a douche. As I’ve said, taking the soul, the Will, as it were, is the worse crime. Taking a life, B’s life… I wasn’t thinking about that this time last year, Gospel 199 Black And Blue Will. You’ll have these to think on. 16 Days are for Braxton. Your Turn To B III. Don’t B A Douche

Gospel 199 ~Black And Blue Will~

Douche
“The second stage of being a dick between asshole and jerk” Urban Dictionary

“A douche is a device used to introduce a stream of water into the body for medical or hygienic reasons, or the stream of water itself. Douche usually refers to vaginal irrigation, the rinsing of the vagina. Still, it can also refer to the rinsing of any body cavity.” ― Wikipedia

  1. I AM Finishing Reading (Whatever Book Comes Along)
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums (Should Be Done)
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 000 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of My B III (Soon)
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

350 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 198 ~When B Was 15~

WillLeave a comment

All the things that Braxton taught me and how did I repay him. What lessons did I teach my son? How to use bathroom pad. BOOBS ARE AWESOME. Is there any better pastime than sleep? I didn’t believe I’d make it past 15, but him… oh. When B Was 15.

Saturday, January 15, 2022

Chronicle 198 ~When B Was 15~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, yet I hate Math more than ever. And what about History, sigh. Hell, some computer literacy?

Yeah, because whirly-birding on the Internet isn’t helping. Should we even talk about my “writing career?” That would mean I was trying. Uh, what time did I wake up, Lunalesca? Every day, History repeats itself. Living for the love of saving myself or my son. I’m always a day late and a dollar short. Lunalesca, when it comes to the Day Job killing us? Slavery? Yeah, there goes my Republican ideas once again. I did get a sample of “The 1619 Project” yesterday. But for now or um the rest of this month. It’s the Math that’s chafing me for today. Lunalesca, we could talk some about anatomy. Me sticking my dick in crazy. That’s a confession for Echo. Gospel 198 Will A Medieval Hour…

Gospel 198 ~Will A Medieval Hour…~

My word to B, I never thought I’d be a Daddy. “You still haven’t been,” they’ll say. Those same people were all hoping I’d die young. I can’t tell you the first time I attempted dying with sleeping pills. (Dangerous words, Lu.) Oh, last night, I was choking on a jelly bean, or was it fast food? Lunalesca, we’re going over every subject in the books, aren’t we? Computer Science, History, Books, Anatomy. What else is there to know. Oh, I should have taken a Shop class or something with Photography. No, I was much too busy thinking, “I can’t.” You know I’m no motivational speaker, of course. I grew up in a generation of “knowledge is power.” From 15 to now… I FEEL STUPID.

When Braxton was 15, he saw me through the plague year Lunalesca. My heroic ONE. Lunalesca making such a soul like my Braxton, you know I believed. I wanted. TWO. Braxton deserved a mom, and I always said a woman Braxton liked, I’d marry. THREE. First time that happened, Braxton and I were separated. To her wedding, I left “FOUR.” Now I didn’t mean to sound like Yoda. B IS my best friend. Never said; I Got 5 On It. Yet B IS number one in my life. So why did B Die? Luna, Two, three, four, five, is it SIX. DMX said, “Life is a lesson, and I’m gonna teach it.” How? I’m so STUPID. I’m sitting here, thirty-seven, but When B Was 15?

349 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 197 ~To B A Doctor~

WillLeave a comment

Am I now saying what if I were a veterinarian now at 348 days? Better if I knew Necromancy, but that doesn’t work on ashes… Hell, I’ve avoided Covid for nearly a whole year without Braxton. He couldn’t make it the second plague year. “To B A Doctor.”

Friday, January 14, 2022

Chronicle 197 ~To B A Doctor~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I don’t cry on the way to the Day Job. Hell, what Day Job?

I went to the Day Job today, and there was no truck. I got the day off… Braxton is thrilled. Only I wish I could see less of the Day Job and more of him. But I keep breathing, Sophia. With all the times I have had to end it. Hell, I’ve told you the story of B saving me. Some years ago, when I was starving myself. I was dehydrated; all my choice, I passed out. I was on the floor, and I had been thinking I would take B III for a walk. Lucky I wasn’t outside. Braxton ran upstairs and got my Olds, and of course, they said I was STUPID. It didn’t matter to B. I’m his best friend, his Daddy.

That day I swore I’d keep going and why? Because I had been so out of it, my “father” said Braxton had dirty drinking water. What a reason to live, hmm? Not because my Olds cared or that I wanted to. It was all because I had failed my son. B could get sick, Sophia. I am sick to look back on Gospel 197 Will Becomes A Dictator. Yeah, I kept B III far away. I fucked up yesterday. Oh, did I mention today is Wednesday, Time Travel. Anyway, I worked yesterday on my Stuff and Thangs, my Onlyfans, and, dammit, Zoe Colletti and Cherry. I was transfixed. The reasons to keep my heart beating Lady Sophia. As I said, crying, the Day Job, Braxton.

Another thing I didn’t do in front of Braxton is cry. Besides shooting off my dick, I haven’t stopped crying for going on 348 days. I couldn’t tell he was dying, but he knew when I was hurt or worse. One of the reasons he would lie in bed holding his pee. B the Ph.D. Again I’m repeating myself, Braxton would bring my blanket or grab my hoody for me. When it was to be seen, a leg or an arm, my neck, that’s where B chose to cuddle me. Stomachaches or a fever? Braxton would stay close by. He’d lick my hand, even whimper. I wanted to be a vet once upon a time. But no, a lazy grim reaper. To B A Doctor

Gospel 197 ~Will Becomes A Dictator~

348 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 196 ~To B On Time~

WillLeave a comment

Time enough at last? Between doing everything, I’ve ever done except for changing B’s bathroom spot and refilling the food side of his dog bowl. B still has 347 treats sitting on the table. Trust me, I count. Late to him but work. “To B On Time”

Thursday, January 13, 2022

Chronicle 196 ~To B On Time~

347 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sorry I’m early or late, depending on what we’re talking about. Books, Boobs, Bucks…

Could your Aunt entice you to please come back home? I know B, I know I keep seeing the words, um, “Lessons from Rainbow Bridge.” You’re always here. But to pet you again. While I was reading yesterday. That would be Sunday, so of course, today’s Monday. One more thing the authors talk about. Time does not exist where you are. Always Braxton. Again you’re always here. It did take a lot to even make it to the couch. That is our spot, but everywhere is ours, right. Even if I’m lying in bed reading instead of on the loveseat. Today, talking to you, I’m blaming TRB Schmitt and his cute wife Samantha for being in bed. Jesus, did I open a can of worms…

First off, you were cremated and not buried. I’m keeping you with me, say it with me, Little B, Always. But second. And it shouldn’t be, but who else do I love on this planet. Next to you, there’s your grandma and then. I’m pretty fond of your Aunt. Boobies! Inevitable that I will find someone to love, right? You know how I’ve been feeling about such a thing as love these days. I’m more clearheaded when I can talk to you. While I’m at the Day Job, it’s, “Yeah, I’m going to die alone.” People suck, Braxton. Counting myself. If you had your way, you liked your Aunt Carolina Bound. There are no prospects. Not on the girl front or on the furries B.

Unless you were trying to send me a message last night. Nightmare, I can’t remember. Were you trying to show me that I needed protection? Besides turning on the lamp and your picture frame, I moved to your side of the bed. You know your corner where you’d stand guard. It’s way past time I get a Cuddle Clone of you, my stalwart standing fast. Speaking of which, the only moving I’ve done regarding your things is your toys. Oh, I put them back. And I’m trying to keep your corner clean. My way of giving you, love. Is it the same with the gates? Again the books keep saying, you are still here. Time’s not on my side but always… To B On Time

Gospel 196 ~Obsessive, Contagious, Addicted, Will~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

WillLeave a comment

I wish I was a little bit taller. I wish I had wings. Hell, I should start playing “Far Cry 5” with that grappling hook instead of having dangerous thoughts. Quite painful, but I’m alive if I’m searching for tortilla chips. B A Head Taller.

Wednesday, January 12, 2022

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m sure I could afford lifts, one of those grab tools, people, my Braxton, right…

Today is Sunday (Time-Travel), but what happened was on Saturday. I talked about having an epiphany, a revelation. I won’t go all into that. Better you could ask my man in the mirror, Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of… Gospel 195 Nobody But Will’s Wife. Inspector, that’s what I’ve been doing these days. Reminiscing? No, that’s the wrong word. Reaching out for answers. And I want to say there is none, then Inspector, there’s truth. Anyway, let me start with Saturday at Walmart. My Ma made some Queso dip, and surprise, I’m out of chips. I ate hers, snacking. So the chips I want are on this high shelf. There are people. I can ignore the chips or reach and risk humiliating myself and so…

A person will choose physical harm to avoid mental anguish. I chose my mind over my body. I reached those damn chips because I didn’t want to know the shame of my failure. They’re all gonna laugh at you, but nobody did because I succeeded. But it hurt like Hell. Humiliations galore rule at the Day Job, but I continue to hurt myself there, Inspector. Dammit, I’m so tired this second, but I refuse any napping because of my mind Inspector. Physical pleasures Echo? I’m going out of my mind. Only let my flesh suffer, Inspector. Then there’s death. Ok, dangerous words always. Unhealthy grief? I’ve had 346 Days of it. I’m surprised I haven’t drowned in it. Between refilling Braxton’s water bowl. My tears, several releases, but no blood.

That leads me back into the mental or the physical. Again, every day I refill his water. I place his treats on the table. Echo, that’s what I hear my voice do when I call him for meds. When I tell him hello and goodbye. I set up his gates, move his bed, everything. I put myself through the physical task to avoid the humiliating truth. I failed Braxton. Fuck me, don’t sugarcoat it; I killed B III. My son, my best friend, is dead because of me, Echo. That is my failure and my disgrace, and I wish I had fallen from that damn shelf for chips. Let me drown in wasted water. Never do Onlyfans again. To die, I’d B A Head Taller.

346 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 194 ~Love B Hard Sometimes~

WillLeave a comment

You give out hope like it’s candy in your pocket. Well, no, I could give you the meaning of life pretty easily. The concept of love? Now that’s something you don’t keep in your pocket. B gives it out always. But for 345 Days. “Love B Hard Sometimes.”

Tuesday, January 11, 2022

Chronicle 194 ~Love B Hard Sometimes~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, more like we are, and thank goodness. Love to my Olds is not being thrown out.

I swear that’s why I stay away from them. Being who I am, being me, well, that’s subject to debate. How do “THEY,” say, you’re lucky I love you? Because I don’t like you not one little bit. Speaking of a little bit, of course, you know I will talk about my B III. Braxton taught me all about love. Well, B III and Chris Rock. Defining what love is? Always ahem the want, need, desire, to put another above oneself. That’s why I’ve never agreed that you need to love yourself to love another. Of course, I would love to love me. One more reason I stay far from my Olds. I grew up to this. I was a duty, obligation, a hated job.

Thirty-seven right? Love is like books and writing to me. It’s a thirst, My Love. They have that word right and wrong. I want more; oh God, help me, and not only boobs, um yep. Hell, look at Braxton? He didn’t have any boobs even though he wanted to claim his aunt’s. But from the moment I laid eyes on him… Talk about we found love in a hopeless place. My life became that of his, loving myself to love him from that moment. Now some way, that’s what killed him as well. It was my indifference when love itself became routine. I have it wrong… it’s not love being hard; it was life. At the same time, my obsession led to his passing away.

You’re the first woman, My Love, that didn’t find my obsession; oh, what’s the words? Creepy, stalkerish, perverted, the list goes on. I don’t love pizza because I don’t know everything about it. I don’t love my phone… Would I die for it? Obsession, knowledge. People say they love, but how much do they know? Unconditional love, as in without condition, you have to know everything. You and Braxton know everything of what I am. And that’s why love is hard sometimes. It’s learning, it’s understanding, it’s growing. We learn about our children; we learn about each other. And to realize that my child, my firstborn, is dying and love, every want, need, and desire can’t save him. What Is Love? Love B Hard Sometimes

345 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 193 ~Pain Makes Heroes And Villains~

WillLeave a comment

I always saw myself as the villain. I’m no Trumptard, but I like power. That means I’m no democrat. Um, I don’t want to do politics. But I find it hard to do any morning without my son. My hero. Playing the villain for Pain Makes Heroes And Villains.

Monday, January 10, 2022

Chronicle 193 ~Pain Makes Heroes And Villains~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but does that make me a hero or a villain. I know that making money hurts. Kills!

I could talk about my body wasting away, but of course, you know what I want to talk about. Braxton is dead. I wouldn’t know at the time “2021” Gospel 193 List It Up, Will. Madam, I was much too busy playing the hero. Like a fucking rich man with $600 in my pocket, and I spent $100 on B. As a poor man, I was still working to provide for us both. Every day I face the evils of this world because I AM a father. Present tense always. That’s what Jack and Kate say in their book Letters From Rainbow Bridge. Past tense? That’s dismissing Braxton from my life, and I need him now more than ever. Kept my lamp on last night.

That doesn’t make me sound like much of a villain, now does it. I don’t even know what woke me up, but I couldn’t get back to sleep for a bit. Where is my hero? Watching over me as always, but still, I needed the light. All I recall is the pain. Nightmares have pain? I’ll always think of how B III would get a blanket when I was ill. A cape and hoody, ha. If I would make all the world my bed, then he would stay here so I could keep him safe. The way he’d smile when I would pet him or rub his tummy. B III, look, the day is saved. The pain Madam, the greatest hurt comes from being alone.

No, that’s a lie. In one of the arguments, I have with myself… I need to stop talking to myself. That makes me sound crazy. At least when Braxton… again, I’m trying. Braxton is here but talking to myself seems to be a form of Acceptance. 344 days, I’ll never. Anyway, my “father” taught me that this is the most villainous act that can ever be done. The Destruction of a Soul. Yes, I’m a killer. All these books on Euthanasia sound like Greek to me. The good death. Taking someone’s body is horrible, their life even more so. But the concept of taking away someone’s will? My “father’s” a villain. My son’s a hero. But both brought pain. Me? Pain Makes Heroes And Villains

Gospel 193 ~List It Up, Will~

“Last night reading over the Dæmon’s vet care. I felt like such a horrible parent.”

“Now it’s “A Different Alchemy” Jeffery and his son Galen. One more thing to show your dad like failures, yep.”
193 List It Up, Will

344 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of…~

WillLeave a comment

Be a man of greatness now, kindness, wisdom, a man so humble. I’m not sure about all that, but I was better when Braxton was here. Sure I feel a twinge of “giving a shit” when I see such and such boobs or when reaching for tortilla chips. B A Man Of…

Sunday, January 9, 2022

Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of…~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but does that make me a man? Well, what about you? 1984’s you are the last man.

No, you figured, you and Braxton would be apocalypse partners. But isn’t it ironic that the world ended Sunday, January 31, 2021, and here you are? As the song goes, “I walk a lonely road. The only one that I have ever known.” I have, and you will. It’s inevitable. Only for 343 Days so far. Speaking of the inevitable, missing Braxton, questioning manhood, how I miss music. Geez, this week is going to suck all the more without it. Look at it this way, as always. The Day Job is the third worse day, ok. Emergence Day, B’s Day. Neither made you a man. Hell, both days make you wish you were dead. Dangerous words. The Day Job’s Hell. Much like Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial Completion
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 010 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

I had an Epiphany while in Walmart, ha. A Revelation, if you will. Synonyms? Epiphanies are like once or very few times in a lifetime. When I hear the word Revelation, I remember Tillie Cole’s “Deadly Virtues” series or the Bible as in the book of. The world is ending. Something like Ecclesiastes 1:18, increasing knowledge, increases sorrow. Dammit, Jack. You’ll continue to read Jack McAfghan/Kate McGahan. Anyway, Epiphany, Revelation. You’ll share more with Inspector Echo but ok. So I would take that line from Battle for the Planet of the Apes. One day you’ll be as tall as a king. I would tell Braxton. I raised my son so high he went all the way to Heaven. To see him again… Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Jack McAfghan: Letters From Rainbow Bridge, Kate McGahan
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 010 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of My B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

You won’t put that on the list yet, but how could you make it to Heaven, to Rainbow Bridge? A song came to mind, “We Are Growing” by Margaret Singana. In its lyrics, hell, the first three words are “Be a man.” Now, of course, what of Mulan, Rocky, Star Trek? They all have songs or lines about being a man, but what do you believe. To be a man, hmm? Fatherhood is the epitome of manhood. Just be a man, and let history judge accordingly. So am I telling you to be a father again? After almost a year. Fuck no! There is no way. Yet, getting up in the morning requires boobs, bucks, your Braxton? None of that’s here. B A Man Of…

Gospel 192 ~Will Seconds That Emotion~

343 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 191 ~B Forgetful This Week~

WillLeave a comment

This marks one more month that I’d rather forget. Hell to forget the 342 Days without B, but what would we have done in all that time? B would make sure I got his grandma a gift. Only, I’m buying another pendant in B’s memory. “B Forgetful This Week”

Saturday, January 8, 2022

Chronicle 191 ~B Forgetful This Week~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. I wonder, do other billionaires forget how much they have. I continue to remember my loss.

My B, I swear I have ruined the weekend for myself. That was fucked up to say, wasn’t it, Lu? What I mean is, at the moment, I am once again time-traveling, in a rush to not be alone anymore. I believe the adoptions start back up today at PetSmart. Can I shush it? Again, me saying STUPID stuff. It’s been that way since I started reading My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do?” I’m sure I’ve finished it by now, but we’ll get to talking about that. Let’s start with my writing, for example, Gospel 191 ~The Island Will What…~. I mentioned B III had a vet appointment, but it was all about my books. The first one of the new year, Lunalesca.

Instead of B III’s life, I mused about The Island by Gary Paulsen. If I remember, he didn’t make it through 2021 either. I ruined my first song of the year on Spotify talking to Dear Future Wife. It was somewhere between “Hold On Tight” and, um, “It’s Only Love.” Romantic, Paternal, Best Friend? As Halle Berry put it, “What do you know about love?” Hell, being at the Day Job, I have all sorts of thoughts. Besides hating the damn place, I know I don’t want to fall in love. I’m thirty-seven and already sure I’ll die alone. Braxton? I get emails about dogs, but I can never make a move. Another PetSmart Chihuahua? Lunalesca, I fucked that up. What about my Ma’s gift?

Yeah, I forgot about her other gift, and she was ever so grateful for the first one. So, of course, I became an asshole, Lu. Then again, B’s Aunt Indiana Gone is getting her gift. The money Amazon returned Lu, I spent on one more memorial pendant. Never forget B. This is why I’ve read two Wendy Van de Poll books. Started reading Kate McGahan. As the song goes, “Am I A Psycho?” If anything, more Republican than ever honest. Reading about dead children, dead pets. At least, unlike Republicans, there is no fix here. Braxton died almost a year ago. 342 days ago, to be exact. A bad week, try a terrible month, Lady Lu. He’s My Son, never forget. B Forgetful This Week

Gospel 191 ~The Island Will What…~

342 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 190 ~Brave As Braxton Tails~

WillLeave a comment

Do you know why people don’t hear my stories? Um, that in itself is a long story, but B was always one to listen. And if I had listened to him… Hell, I wouldn’t be reading two Wendy Van de Poll books this week. After Jack’s. “Brave As Braxton Tails.”

Friday, January 7, 2022

Chronicle 190 ~Brave As Braxton Tails~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can buy the tasty bacon for Braxton. Not what I “STOLE” from Jack’s.

Yes, Lady Sophia, that’s what I’ve been thinking about going on three days now. It beats what I was thinking about this time last year, for the record. Gospel 190 Mounting Vague Assumptions Will. Sometimes I miss Dirty Diana, but those days are for Braxton. Hell, every day is for B now. But I should be telling you a story. Well more like what I wish had happened. I’m sure I’ve told you the one about Braxton and how he earned another nickname, “Pancake.” How I would say to him, “I love you like pancakes,” often. Anyway, something I didn’t confess to Inspector Echo Wednesday. So I’m sitting in line waiting for my chicken biscuit combo. The lady gives me the wrong order. Easy fix.

If I were a man of action. If this was The Legend of Zelda, hell, The Legend of Braxton, my little prince. Thou art courageous Will, but no, I’m not. So I take the wrong food. Lucky for me, they also ordered a chicken biscuit. If it’s any consolation, I did ask for my Sprite. What, it helps settle my stomach? Root beer is my favorite, but they don’t have that. Plus, I’m too scared to ask for Strawberry Fanta. Yet I wish I could have come back and faced B III’s wrath for not getting hash browns. I would have shared the pancakes, Sophia. Braxton would have ignored the bacon like he did the first time he ever stole my breakfast. Father and son.

As far as B III’s concerned, I was the bravest man he knew. That’s not saying much between me, his grandpa, and the vet at Banfield we both hated. He loved my father even when he got kicked four feet through a door. The veterinarian, if he’d been there. Sigh… Braxton would have gotten one more day. Chicks kill me; Braxton got that same courtesy. Unfair and not cool, I know, I killed Braxton. True Story. Braxton, thou art courageous. Next to love, there will always be his courage, bravery, sacrifice, and victory tales. Wherever B III finds himself these days. In books about his passing? My shadow, he who gave me courage. For a life worth more than a Jack’s. Brave As Braxton Tails.

“I give hope to men, I leave none for myself.”

“I come on behalf of one whom I love.” ― Lord of the Rings… (Braxton)

341 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will