Chronicle 100 ~Not For The B’s~

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Once a buzzing in the walls was the worst of my problems. I said, “eff them Bees.” It was one of the neighbors, though, and we would all be in trouble without the bees. But for me without B III… books, boobs, bucks, it doesn’t matter, Not For The B’s

Saturday, October 9, 2021

Chronicle 100 ~Not For The B’s~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’ll tell you I would help more animals than people. Oh yeah, my Republican tendencies…

I had a dream as I continued to be a lazy ass this morning. Yeah, I got up at 4:00 AM but slept an extra hour. I’d say, cut me some slack, but I don’t deserve it. At least I’m not sitting in bed buck-ass naked looking for an excuse to do laundry today. I’m back to, day one Lunalesca. So my dream. There was a brown dog, much darker than my Braxton, growling at me that I was trying to fight off. It was with my left arm, you know where I keep planning on getting my tattoo for B. She was a bitch too. I do mean that in dog terms, of course. Well, did I die, you want to ask Lady Lu?

Let’s say; I’m not in the mood to go see the doggies. But it’s Saturday, I’ll stick to the routine. Speaking of Republican tendencies or a white man who leaves the one they love the most. The 30th, remember. “First let me explain that I’m just a black man,” as the song goes, Lady Lu. That’s the one thing I can’t forget in this world. There’s reading the Succubus series. Lunalesca, there are the books. The financial sort that has been kicking my ass some days. What about my book? I should be cheating, as NaNoWriMo starts in November, Lady Lu. More books, but how have I been worried about making money. Yesterday, doing shit that I would never let Braxton see or Beatrice either.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dq6ZSRMhetE

I’m sticking with that name, Beatrice, as in Dante’s Inferno. If I see a brown dog today, I’m steering clear. Can I get more Republican, ha? Didn’t I use to say life is all about Bucks, Babes, and Bullets? Bullion, Biology, Boobs; better Bombs, Brunettes, Burials? Braxton should have always come first, and he did. I keep telling myself that falsehood? I can’t keep my boner in my pants, I refuse to work on my book, and where are all the bucks. Um, ok, in the piggy bank in “Squid Game,” along with people’s brains going everywhere. Living in a world that every day I see more and more that’s doomed. My apocalypse partner… Braxton is dead. Supporting NaNoWriMo… nope, I should help keep the Bees. Not For The B’s.

251 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 099 ~I Should B Writing~

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Let’s start with, I should be getting up in the morning for things other than what my soul despises. Hell, I wasn’t sleeping at all when B III needed me. A lie, the first day he cried, I told him to shush it. I need to remember. “I Should B Writing.”

Friday, October 8, 2021

Chronicle 099 ~I Should B Writing~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I might be if I wasn’t up at 11:00 AM. I’m always writing the negative.

I should be writing you about surviving the Day Job. I’m not telling THEM but you, Lady Sophia. I’m sorry about my job performance. Um, I don’t even know if I fucked up or not. I’m learning my first instinct; 9 out of 10 is wrong. But I’m sure I’ll hear it all next week. Ok, with what I was doing on Friday, January 29, 2021? Um, so It’s back to that, isn’t it? I should have been writing checks or more like dolling out the cash before then. But as always, I like someone else’s writing. The bank said I had money. Thanks, government. After that day, I had plenty of writing before “The End.” Now, every day, I wish, I wish, I wish…

R. Kelly isn’t a role model. You’re not Inspector Echo, but if you want a confession, his music is still good. Only these days I’ve been watching, more like listening to reactions of Squid Game. Why don’t I write a review of it or one of A.J. Markam’s Succubus novels? Hell, I can’t even tell you a story of keeping “it” in my pants. Well, I could have earlier this morning if you wonder where I’ve been. Besides sleeping the day away, it’s been about “Stuff and Thangs.” I made it the week, but Inspector Echo didn’t know… Time Travel. Now I won’t go into who caused the mess, well me. Yet at the moment, I don’t want to speak on ahem, Girls, Girls, Girls.

Should I be writing about how much I miss the music? How long has it been since I listened to Braxton’s playlist or The B III Roll? The only songs I have looping are “Fly Me To The Moon,” sung by Joo Won. And “Easy Street” The Collapsable Hearts Club feat. Jim Bianco and Petra Haden. Now like Spontaneous, playing in Squid Game seems tolerable. I was about to say it beats talking about Braxton… How dare I!!! I get emails about other furbabies, but whenever it comes to the application? I can’t put my name down or anything else. Even them sending me messages is one more sign of my Treachery. Like in school, I should be writing I’m sorry. I Should B Writing.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysu4jxo-cUI
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QwksATd9lXU

250 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 098 ~B STUPID THEY Say~

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Hey STUPID, Slave, Sucker, so a day at work when I rather stay home with my dog, my best friend, my son but oh wait. When he was dying, I was working; the day after, I sat with him as he crossed the Rainbow Bridge; I worked. “B STUPID THEY Say,” yep.

Thursday, October 7, 2021

Chronicle 098 ~B STUPID THEY Say~

249 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Well, let me apologize for “that word.” How I hate “Hey STUPID, I Love You.”

But to quote another song, “I Feel Stupid.” Considering the 28th of January, when I didn’t know you were dying… I know I’m sorry, Baby B, it’s been a long day. Only am I talking about today or Monday? Why am I talking to you so early? By this time, I’d be in no mood. Oh, I’m STUPID THEY’D say for hating the Day Job denying a slave’s existence, mine. I’m STUPID for feeling bad about it like I failed in life. I let you down, B, all for them. There will never come some moment I won’t be reminded that this hatred killed you. Fuck I will never learn my lesson. This morning I came back and what Braxton; ate, slept, vented, ranted, whatever.

Because I can’t be STUPID, Braxton. At least I try not to be but of course, if you ask someone. One more thing I miss about having you here B III. There was no one to ask, and you already knew. I bet you’re glad I can’t lock you behind a gate someplace, hmm? Yeah, when your daddy is doing something STUPID like this morning. Hell, I would take that over what happened today, and I do mean Thur. It’s no use speculating. Humiliations Galore but at least this week was “successful.” Keeping the Day Job not killing anyone. Braxton, I’m not trying to be funny. In 2017 I wrote, “Lesson 050 A Comedian Died Today.” I killed you, B, my audience, 249 Days Ago.

The one love in my life who thought I could do better. I’m full of apologies, aren’t I B III? Oh, I say, you’re dead, I killed you, I know-how. But um, I’m a dumb criminal, yeah, B III. So why care what THEY say? That will always and forever make me louder, Braxton. Constantly I’m repeating reasons to love you and miss you. Braxton, you’re my quiet friend? Is that insanity? Am I being ironic? Now I know I’m not imagining things. I’ve talked about how the silence is killing me but only not fast enough. Why I’m still talking to you when I should be reading. A boy with an imaginary friend, believing in ghosts, zombies, succubi, me… Braxton, B STUPID THEY Say

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 097 ~Braxton Promises To Pray~

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With my paws, I promise to walk beside you. To stand against any and all who come against us. To let you know where I am. But don’t touch them. I hate when God or his servants attempt to force my hand too. But the Day Job? “Braxton Promises To Pray.”

Wednesday, October 6, 2021

Chronicle 097 ~Braxton Promises To Pray~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but that’s not enough to see one’s true paradise, the right person, or my puppy now.

Yet on this Sunday, writing about Wednesday, as I play prophet. The humiliations, Inspector Echo, are getting worse. A revelation I’ve had of late sigh. When I was constantly worrying about Braxton, as long as he was okay… Well, life was Hell, so I believed. Inspector, these days, whenever I pray for strength, guidance, will. I always direct those whispers towards Braxton. Except for the Day Job. I continue to pop my wrists with a rubber band when I allow fear to guide my steps. Surprised my hands remain, Inspector. With all the work I’ve been doing today. Is that what I call it, talking to the Man in the Mirror. I was talking about a wedding band. Then my time out of the shower.

“Stuff And Thangs?” What I wouldn’t give to see a few $100’s, some $1,000’s appear in my wallet. B III wouldn’t understand money but anything that stopped me from leaving. I’m far less ashamed of being naked than whatever I’ve been doing this week. Hell, this Wednesday cannot be worse than the “Wednesday.” I remember B crying. As for me? You know I have never liked the terms owner, master, and the like. Someone wrote that dogs think they’re people; cats believe they are gods. Or even dogs think people are gods. Braxton never asked me to save him, only to hold him and bring him home. I couldn’t even do that. At least not in the way he wanted anymore. I wonder what B believed in. In me alone?

Braxton was blessed with paws, not hands, and he didn’t appreciate me touching them. Braxton is supposed to be beside me at times like these. These hands for petting Braxton. Inspector, I am ashamed I can’t do that anymore. Doesn’t that make today seem better? How I like to think Braxton was/is optimistic. At least he was/is good at pretending. Daddy needs only to return, and regardless of what happened, he would make it better. Echo, I gave him a treat before I left as I can’t stand lies, even for the love of Braxton. I still pray for him whenever I go. Does he watch over me? Even when I was no longer a monk. Doing whatever Day Job wise. Braxton Promises To Pray

248 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 096 ~Something New, Something B~

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I want to say that dogs are much easier than women. With B, until his dying day, it was “Get in the car, Braxton.” How much of that is offensive, if any? Anyway, he was mine the moment my Olds moved. “Something New, Something B,” Not looking for love

Tuesday, October 5, 2021

Chronicle 096 ~Something New, Something B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but this isn’t Futurama. Of the Pop Culture I’m into, this isn’t one. But “Seymour Asses?”

No, I’m not talking about work. As much as I would like to show you all that I do… Hell, I know you like it. I’m more of a Dennis Hof and his dog Domino sort of guy, Baby Girl. Only, Love my heart hasn’t been anywhere near my business in quite some time 247 Day. Braxton’s death, I know. How many dogs do I know that have met their end some way? Braxton wasn’t any dog. He’s My Son. Fifteen years. Longer than the despised Day Job. My love, longer than I’ve known you, which isn’t the smartest thing to say, honest. Dearest, are you going to go out and get a new husband? Okay, so I’m sounding like an ass at the moment, but what else is new?

Nothing else. Every Saturday, I walk into PetSmart and realize I’m a selfish bastard. One who walked out without his son on January 31st. Hate, Stupidity, Fear, even more. Even when getting pet emails too. There’s no room for more paperwork or new dog treats. Braxton’s are running out. Some new collar, leash, bedding. Hell B III’s room remains B III’s room. Braxton’s home exists. I don’t want to go back to mowing the lawn, so there’s a play area. Um, I do it for our kids, but they aren’t running the length of the fence barking at any neighbors. Uh, how do I know? Me leaving my Study would be something new. I left my Olds a new man, a father. I walked from the altar with you. Somethings.

Someone, my Little B, isn’t replaceable. You Baby Doll, our family, I’m hoping myself In Your Eyes. I can’t imagine another woman walking towards me to be my wife ever. Humans are what we are. Yeah, I look for my phone how many times a day and to get a new one. I remember panicking when I thought I had lost my pendant with Braxton’s ashes. The same with taking off a wedding band. What kind of man does that? Somethings mean forever or darling the feelings behind them. Love You and Me always and forever. Happiness and grief; before Braxton died, I would say the heart gets bigger. Without him, it’s like love’s bleeding out. I need more or healing. Something New, Something B

247 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 095 ~Knocking, Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots~

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I’ll show you a door; you’re the one who has to walk through. I’d tell B I’d never leave for the Day Job again. I hate that door; B hated car doors. Did he know neither of us would look at the front door the same? Knocking Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots

Monday, October 4, 2021

Chronicle 095 ~Knocking, Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots~

Two-Hundred And Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford one of those RING doorbells. Only people knocking here want my money.

Hell, the only doors I’m knocking on are for places I don’t want to be. Well, if you’re destined for Hell, you might as well get there early. You know I hate the crowds, Madam. I got the sins, no doubt. Yet the fact we’re here now J, on the 2nd ha-ha. Sigh Time Travel. That’s sort of what the Den has become. My Time Machine. I ain’t the smartest man (not STUPID). But working the thermostat, managing money, being a good Daddy. The Den is the warmest room in the house with the door closed. Today I miss Braxton’s scratching. I only shut it when he was here because I was mad. Otherwise, with his warmth… Cold, what Cold? I can’t feel a thing.

Hell, I deserve to get sick. I remember sitting there, my feet frozen in place and at the same time beating a path straight to Hell. As the needles took B; disease, vaccine, rejected me. So I won’t get COVID; for once, I was hoping the Republicans were right, and I would die. It’s not like I’m getting laid anytime soon. Knocking boots, as the kids would say. I don’t wear them or anything else, considering what I’m doing. I did have dreams of being a porn star once upon a time. For right now, I want to stay behind closed doors in the Den. Here I am, though, talking to you today because of all the knocking I’ll do. That I’ve done already, Madam.

Edward Norton kicked his own ass in Fight Club. Ain’t that something, Madam. I forgot knocking heads, and somehow the ASM reminds me every time I see his fucking face. Only I never grew into a violent person except against myself. I skipped all the self-harm and went right to, let’s say, the heart of the matter. Even that I fucked up. As for fighting? Every day I’m and out for the count. Not today because I was talking to Lady Lu about a lack of sleep being punishment. We’ll see how long this lasts. Not to Sunday the 3rd. Promises and a Penis take finessing too. Pardon my language today. Am I good at any of this? Opening doors? Knocking Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots

246 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 094 ~Someday B It Sunday~

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Sunday was his last day. A case of the Mondays. Taco Tuesday, do they still have nacho fries? Hump Day. Thursday, I knew he was sick. Working for the weekend. Saturday night’s not alright and repeat. Hell is repetition. Someday B It Sunday.

Sunday, October 3, 2021

Chronicle 094 ~Someday B It Sunday~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and you could be too but not today. Monday would help because I’m not going to be.

If it’s any consolation, I did get more work done yesterday, despite all my tears. I’m sorry I chased Carolina Bound off (for the moment…). Hell, I apologize for using M Anime as an excuse. If I paid as much attention to Braxton as I did Books, Boobs, and Bedrooms. Tell you what, I am proud that here you are on another Off Day at 4:00 AM. Not the floor. How bad do you want to take yourself back to bed… not involving OnlyFans mischief? Do you have what it takes to go to the dining room when the time comes; B III’s meds? How many Sundays has it been? In Days, it’s been 245. The worse part of a year for Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Connected Souls (Short)
    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 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

I told you I wouldn’t be of much help. To help yourself when you couldn’t do anything for your son. I swear Sundays are cursed days. Tupac wrote, “cause even our birthdays is cursed days.” On that note, you hate E-Day. Braxton had Feb 13th, but dying on a Sunday. Sunday always meant church, threats from your father. Awaiting all the horrors that were to come during the week. B III’s dead. Anything that happens this week can’t top that. The Walking Dead is coming on tonight; wrestling sometimes. With how I felt last night (Carolina Reaper Wings…). Today you’re doing pretty damn awesome physically. Only you’ll be back to routine but didn’t Stephen King say, that’s what Hell is, repetition, plus Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Succubus 7 Fairy Tale ― A LitRPG Series
  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 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

The sad thing is it could be worse… Um no? Thinking such a thing always looks like a step towards Acceptance. Nothing is worse than Braxton being gone. Another life? Every week is filled with, as always, Humiliations Galore. Hell, the highlights include praying if there is a God that you don’t wake up. Fast food might kill you. Sleeping. Saturdays are always about betrayal. I told Carolina Bound about her boys Thor and Loki getting bigger, growing up without a home. This house isn’t home. Not without B III. Sundays though, fuck, you have so many girls to talk to because this week is going to suck. Listen to your motivations, but you know like Fallout, War, War Never Changes. Someday B It Sunday

245 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 093 ~B III Of Time~

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Time is pretty damn valuable, and B III knew it. It’s why he sat on my head so I would have to get some air. He used his 8 ― 10 lbs. of weight to make me get up and walk. Now I have all the time in the world to think about those times. B III Of Time.

Saturday, October 2, 2021

Chronicle 093 ~B III Of Time~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if it wasn’t for Yesterday. To think I’m always worried about tomorrow.

In five minutes, the world is going to end. I know I gave up that theory at some point. Hell, I watched the world end on January 31st, at around 3:30 PM ― 4:00 PM. I’d like to think that’s when Fear died as well. My greatest crime, that pain, there is nothing like it. To be frozen in time, to be dead as B is dead. It has now been 244 days, and I have not moved from that moment. Yes, I am repeating myself in the fact that my darkest sin is Treachery. And so I reside in that level of Hell. Yet my betrayal continues, Lady Lunalesca. Forgive Me…

“Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’, into the future” Fly Like An Eagle

Hell, I’ve been asking for it for 37 Years and going on 25 Days. How close am I to playing like a Christian? I ain’t asking God because I take my own lumps. If I’ve been guilty since the day I was born? If the sins of the fathers are returned on the sons, B III rests in a box. You must be asking what is bringing all of this out of me today. I woke up at 4:00 AM. Today is Saturday, of course, which means I have to leave the house. Petting Fur-Babies? It could be the fact Lunalesca, I have wasted this whole week, continue singing Yesterday. I was deader then. It’s like when the ASM awoke my anger, making me feel.

Now I’m gaining new routines. That’s Fur-Babies, Groceries, and Street Tacos. And with it all? How I wish I wasn’t so damn tired. Now that would be some Hell. I should lie by B’s bed. Yeah, I wasn’t sleeping at all then. So why can’t I promise to do that? For B III, Lady Lu. Imagining the heinous horrors and humiliations that await me next week. And there will be several. I continue to blame myself for what happened, but I didn’t hate my Day Job so much. A former manager asked why I didn’t quit. If I did, I’d join B III much quicker. But I still see him from Yesterday and now, even tomorrow. Braxton remains Always And Forever. B III Of Time

244 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 092 ~A B Fitting Title~

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Truth, Life, Braxton, Denial, Father, Dog, Man, Knowledge, Lady Sophia, Chronicle, Story, Writer, Will Bradford Jr., Marquis De Joker, History, The End, Women, Pain, Dæmon, Guilt, Books, 243, Better Worlds, Titles, NaNoWriMo

Friday, October 1, 2021

Chronicle 092 ~A B Fitting Title~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but people wouldn’t say, “Hey, it’s the billionaire.” Never call me STUPID again, for damn sure.

Braxton didn’t call me anything, but he did call. I guess as the song goes, “Tonight I Wanna Cry,” or this morning at least. I got up on time for once and made the bed to avoid temptation. Hell, things that get me going… fear of the Day Job, a pretty girl, a sick dog. A Step Towards Humiliations Galore, Getting Right To The Point, The Man With The Floorplan. I’ve never been good with book titles, or how about novel writing in general, Lady Sophia? NaNoWriMo officially begins November so resorting to cheating, right? Yeah, have I forgotten my laziness? Or is this procrastination with a three-hour head start that I got this morning? Again, there’s making the bed, a Pop-Tart, pictures, and Goodreads.

Everything to avoid talking to Monsieur B, 243 Days Ago. In his book “My Turn To B III,” I said all his titles. And how he came running, right up until the end. Then I was the one that followed him but not into the dark. The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, the farm, so on. Lady Sophia, I also wrote about all his jobs. Anything to talk about how tired I always am. Even now, or the aftermath of again avoiding a sad story. I finished Connected Souls, yesterday which only leaves a dirty book to read. I swear no Succubus, Dragon, or Pokémon could ever match The Wee Little Puppy Man I let down. B was/is my hero. Even better, Braxton Is Legend. And Love…

Oh, so should I add Plagiarism to my list of crimes. Every time I speak to you, Lady Sophia, any of the girls, Braxton, or the man in the mirror. Hemmingway or my other app tells me to shut up. Braxton never did, but I know that he appreciates fine literature. Sophia, that, if anything, is a reason to keep writing. Should I be selfish and mention my bank account? For now, I need a title for my next novel. To be fair, I could use an entire idea. So could the WWE, too, when it comes to stories of champions. Billionaire, Hero, Champion, Legend… I want to be Daddy again but not to any fur baby. My Pancake, my Braxton. A B Fitting Title

243 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 091 ~To Be Patient B~

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Be patient, and I will find a cure, acceptance, salvation, forgetfulness, whatever. Yep, ASM, I still say whatever. I’m a sick puppy, or I had a sick puppy 242 Days ago. And now I’m insane in the membrane, as we said once? To Be Patient B.

Thursday, September 30, 2021

Chronicle 091 ~To Be Patient B~

242 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Mine is only beginning, and I’m already sick of it. Give me five more minutes.

Patient Daddy, but I’d be lying if I said I was sick like that. You saw me through the first year of COVID; I haven’t lost anyone because of it. I lost you this year, fucking insane. I’m glad you can’t repeat the things I say. Ain’t that a question. Can dogs talk in Heaven? Will I ever get to see you, B III? Hell, I’m making a mess over one of your would-be moms. Tell Millie “Sup” if you get a chance. I’m sure the last thing you want to do is spend all day in bed like your Old Man. I’m sick of feeling this way. I’m not talking about missing you; I mean being lazy. I got a good seven hours and still went back to sleep.

Patient B, that’s something I would never call you. If I brought fries home, you would be a real pain in the ass. No wonder I’m trying to exorcise you. Told you I’m sick, Braxton. While I was busy not telling you that B III, let’s see. Um, I did icky things I wouldn’t let you see. I got my affairs in order, but I’m not dead yet. Then comes the food I can’t share, B. I told you before about choosing Onion Rings vs. Fries, hmm? How about Chocolate vs. Sour Gummies? Here I worried about those things killing you, but it was hatred. Hatred is a sickness, but is patience a real virtue?

Patience in wanting to join you? I haven’t seen your grandpa in a minute; the Day Job only brings me more hate. I hate myself, sorry? B, now you weren’t a cure but a medication. Sometimes you could be distracting, but considering the work, I got done with you around. Hell, my last novel is most of these letters and the one before… Zombified daddy. The more I sleep, the less I think about a more permanent solution. Considering the books get busy living and B, you know the rest. You had so much more living to do, my friend. I failed you in that. Is love the cure for hate? More like warring with myself, and what have I created? Your book, for love, NaNoWriMo? To Be Patient B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad