Category: Inspector Echo

Gospel 350 ~Be Free Of Cures~

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I wasn’t sick this week or the last, but I sure did stay in bed. Only I don’t need a doctor. More like I need my dog back. Another Father’s Day approaches, and here I am without my son. Be Free Of Cures because I’m already dying

Wednesday, June 16, 2021

Gospel 350 ~Be Free Of Cures~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and ignoring the obvious Ha-Ha, as the song goes, I Want A New Drug. Today… doubtful

Am I a prick for not remembering my “father’s” birthday? I know Father’s Day is on the 20th (shudders). I’m not looking forward to it. Do I have to say something, Inspector Echo? That’s only one of the many things needling at my brain today. But I’m out of bed.
Why, when I need another mental health day or several. I think I asked sometime this week, am I going to waste these next few days. If I said, I would ask a Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting “Son,” Prince of Peace. What’d you think? Obviously, I know my Bible Inspector, that’s Isaiah 9:6. Again I’m not turning towards faith. To quote more wisdom, I’m “Losing My Religion.” I lost my God, Good Boy, Greed…

Which, of course, explains that $150.00 I put in my bank account yesterday and why? I was worshipping some incredible Yabbos that are no longer talking to me. I was breaking Inspector Echo. Maitland Ward had me, and then with restraint ok hesitation… I stopped.
Well, she did, and am I ever going to learn that women aren’t the answer? I’ve been talking to M Anime and Indiana Gone, but I still remember January 31th. Indiana Gone asked what she could do, and I said, “I want my best friend back. No bucks, boobs, behavior. There’s nothing that will bring B III back to me or make the hurt go away. For a few seconds, I lose myself and feel a greater shame about something.

Which should be instead of more porn, I should get stuck. The vaccine is free and is continuing poking at me to go and get it. Today’s the day… again, I don’t think so. The masks won’t last forever, but I continue to pretend. Shall I quote Bob Marley? Three Little Birds singing, “Don’t worry about a thing. ’Cause every little thing gonna be all right.” Only it hasn’t been for 136 Days. I look at them as we approach another year down. I see Father’s Day, and here I am without my son. My Charge, my Comfort, and my Cure, to the viciousness, vitriol, and virus called Life. Is that why I’m avoiding my health? There’s no cure for death. Be Free Of Cures

136 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 343 ~Forgetting A B 101~

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“Remember me,” and I failed to as I walked into Braxton’s room and saw seven treats when there should have been eight. As much as I’d like to think he came and got it yesterday, I was discombobulated, destroyed, but not depressed. Forgetting A B 101.

Wednesday, June 9, 2021

Gospel 343 ~Forgetting A B 101~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so like Jeff Bezos, Warren Buffet, and Beyoncé with Jay-Z, I’m prone to forget some things?

What I forgot yesterday… my son. No, let’s start off with something small, ha or big, Yabbos. When’s the last time I mentioned those, and it makes me sick. Did I tell you I broke my vow? Now here I’m sitting trying to remember how I forgot about MILF Dos. It didn’t take the world long to move from Lady Dimitrescu to Sam from Samsung. Why not throw Lily from AT&T and Cortana from the Halo franchise into the mix? I swear the Internet hates me right now. It’s never deeper than I hate myself for these last couple of weeks. Nature is healing. Yesterday was a hard-ass day for me, and seeing as how I got a late start this morning, not peeking Yabbos.

No, B is not for boobs, balls, or bitches man, thank you, Warm Bodies. B still stands for Braxton, but what about his boy, the man, the father. What about the quitter? I always can. That’s something I was thinking about while not producing content for “Stuff And Thangs.” Nobody would know in a day, but maybe I should stick to writing. It goes on. Okay, that’s a lie, but it will come in July. By that point, I’ll only be writing about B III. Everything that little ball of fluff meant to me. Only haven’t I forgot publishing GULP. Speaking of books, I’ve started reading Jegudiel by Tillie Cole. It’s as if Fate is saying, “Boy, you’re depressed.” Power outage and book on insanity

“Y’all look at me and say, boy, you’ve been blessed
But y’all don’t see the inside of my unhappiness.”

B is for Braxton and what’s insane is that I could forget anything about him. Yet this morning I didn’t know what I was going to write about and then I noticed something. In his room, there were seven treats but today is the ninth, so yesterday, what the fuck? Inspector Echo, I didn’t greet him. That’s how long it took, one-hundred and twenty-eight days. I don’t have to wonder what drove me from the bed this morning, fucking guilt. I’ll have to remember to apologize to him tomorrow. Um, good luck with that, hmm? I may have lost myself for a while but never Braxton, B III, my buddy, brother, badass son. Winston had rats; my fear is losing Braxton. Forgetting A B 101

129 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 336 ~How Many Barks Braxton~

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Braxton spoke like a man, anytime, anyplace, and wasn’t afraid to let his voice be known even if it meant locking him behind a gate for a bit. His bark was worse than his bite, but he’ll always be my little boy. How Many Barks Braxton.

Wednesday, June 2, 2021

Gospel 336 ~How Many Barks Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford this morning’s shenanigans. We know the truth, Inspector, so I’m sorry.

Time is never on my side, along with my new interest in “Stuff And Thangs.” That’s where I was this morning, and at the very least, I’m still a monk and alone. Both are killing me. Geez, I wouldn’t have gotten down and dirty if Braxton was watching or punished. Inspector, my continuing existence in a universe without him. Hell, would I call it my punishment? Yesterday marked the start of the 5th month he’s been gone. I’ve been missing a few days, Memorial Day, the 100th Anniversary of Tulsa. Even at the Day Job. Yeah, I’ve been lectured before there, but this time it was about a Hawaiian King. King Kamehameha gets his day on the 11th. If only that was the “strangest” thing.

I should take a cue from B III and find my voice. Only there are so many reasons I need to shut up. So back at the Day Job, one of my fucking bosses called me Ma’am over the radio. On the one hand, I didn’t hear him exactly. On the other, I should’ve unleashed Hell. Speaking of Hell and fucking, I indeed like my voice. It’s hard doing what I’m doing and wanting to maintain my monk-like status. Now, of course, you’re telling me I could always quit, but I don’t want to. However, I want to maintain my promise, vow, call it insanity. Which do you think is the bigger sin, to remain silent or let it all go? Didn’t listen to Braxton

Yesterday I mean, I didn’t play B’s playlist because I needed new ideas for my project. Don’t get me wrong, I cried, but nobody wants to see that on film. Not from my eyes, ha. If Braxton was here, I would have gotten up on time. He wanted better for me or more treats. Sometimes he tried to make an ass of himself, but whatever he did beats my life. I should see if I have any videos of him barking. What type of dog owner doesn’t have that? If Braxton could speak to me now, I wonder what would he say today, Inspector Echo. I told M Anime I didn’t know many languages other than English. I’m fluent in Braxton. How Many Barks Braxton.

122 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 329 ~To Understand Braxton’s Writes~

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How often did I write about Braxton before? It’s still such a shame it took his passing for me to put his name on the page. Still, he was a minority, Chihuahua, an only child, and he loved me even in stories. To Understand Braxton’s Writes.

Wednesday, May 26, 2021

Gospel 329 ~To Understand Braxton’s Writes~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and like any other American, I have the right to remain silent. I won’t, though, nope.

If I had my way, to fulfill a “promise” I made to Madam Justice. I would much rather talk about Copious Cleavage, Titanic Ta-tas, Supersized Slobber Knockers. Indeed my shame. So if it’s not going to be about “stuff and thangs.” If you don’t understand by now, my euphemism for sex. I wish I could forget about my rage and wrath at the Day Job. Inspector Echo, that’s a lie because the only person I hate more than the ASM and my father at this point is myself. For the high crime, I won’t shut up about. I killed my son. It’s been 115 days. Braxton still appears, if not the main subject of my blogging, journaling, confessing. Pray tell, is this Exhibit A?

Did I tell you I killed Braxton twice? My first offering writing with Camp NaNoWriMo in April was to end Bastian “Barks” Bennett. Bastian was the adopted Mexican child of the main protagonist. Antagonist… Father Win William Bridgman. Novels mourn freely. While on the subject of Camp NaNoWriMo, I believe the next one is in July. I intend to write about the real Braxton Barks Bradford but is it out of love or laziness? I want to put the letters I’ve been writing to him in it, but that means so much of the work’s complete. Not only do I feel like a cheater but to exploit Braxton in such a way. My tragedy, my woe, “Is It A Crime” Inspector. One more for the list.

As you know, it’s sort of hard to be into “stuff and thangs” when all I do is mourn B III. I signed up again for “stuff and thangs,” what was it Friday, and they rejected me. It’s still Saturday, and you’re the fourth girl I’ve talked to. Yes, this week sucks… is it worse? Inspector, I should have spoken to Braxton more, even if it meant writing less. What was it? Four years ago I started writing about, you know who. And every day since it’s been these words, these words, these words Echo. They have power, and fuck what I wanted to do, I want them to bring Braxton back… they never do. Keeping love alive, rather than hate. To Understand Braxton’s Writes

115 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 322 ~Needling Away Might B…~

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Plenty of religious movies that say Mark of the Beast this; shot that, but I’m not a man of faith. If Trumptards are against this, then it must be good. My son B III would want his Dad alive. To vaccinate or not, against COVID? Needling Away Might B…

Wednesday, May 19, 2021

Gospel 322 ~Needling Away Might B…~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, a proud American, a good father, and an alright man. Like before, it’s fun to dream.

Since I’ll say I’m a Billionaire tomorrow, let me focus on being an American. The American Dream. Before B III, I was in the military, In The Navy but only a few weeks of Basic Training. That was the last time I ever intentionally saw a needle for myself, Echo. Now Braxton saw plenty, including his last one… we’ll get to that soon. Anyway, I don’t understand why this is such a hard decision to vaccinate or not from COVID-19. I’m not a Stupid Trumptard. Inspector Echo, I trust the science and want to do my part, USA yay. Honor, Courage, Commitment, yeah, one more reason I didn’t stick to my guns, literally on some ship. Nobody’s saying I can’t still wear my mask around…

I wasn’t when B took all his needles from the first to the last. Hell, half the time, I laughed, always telling him, “Be A Man B.” He’s a scaredy-cat…

Anytime we went into PetSmart or over to Banfield, it was like he was walking The Green Mile. Or it was Room 101 from the book 1984 (scary). Allow me to be overly dramatic. If it were between having Braxton looking at me those last moments or the cage with the rats? He’s not asking me to do that, though. Braxton would want me to be healthy and safe, especially since he’s no longer here to protect me. If the vaccine did kill me, well, like I’ve been saying, I’ve got it coming. It’s deserved. Does it beat exploding “Spontaneous?”

Yes, I’m still a grown man obsessed with a movie about high school. I’d be lying if I said a bit of peer pressure wasn’t involved with my decision. What, I’ve made a decision? That explains why I have been sleeping so late or Depression? It’s almost 7:00 AM, shame. A “decent” man once said, “Listen to the woman,” or women in this case. I would do anything for a pretty girl. My second BFF hasn’t gotten the vaccine, but her hubby has. A woman I’m hoping to do “stuff and thangs” with is pleading with me not to take it. What kind of man am I then? Braxton’s father always, forever, and would he be proud of me after yesterday… Needling Away Might B…

108 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 315 ~A Mom’s B Leaving~

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Once in my life, I wanted to be a fighter pilot. Not really to serve but “reasons.” I don’t blame people for not counting on me. I can’t trust myself. But to not be a good enough son or especially a father because I’ll “F Up.” A Mom’s B Leaving.

Wednesday, May 12, 2021

Gospel 315 ~A Mom’s B Leaving~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I know it won’t be because of puns. Hell, I’ll take care of my mom.

Did that sound “sinister,” Inspector? You know what I mean, but I wasn’t even able to look after B III. It’s why he’s on the nightstand and not on the bed. I was saying today, May 8… yes, it’s going to be a bad week; I was thinking of that song “You Were Loved,” yep. Like mother like son, I guess. My Ma’s a big fan of Whitney Houston. While I can’t say I am, this song has made it onto my playlist for B III. Well, that is until the fucking ASM took it away from me. Should I be ashamed I’m still going on about that meathead bastard? Anyway, there is one verse that keeps playing between Charlie Brown’s language and my RAGE.

“When somebody cares that you’re alive
When somebody trusts you with their life.”
You Were Loved by Whitney Houston

My Ma doesn’t trust me. I’m always one to be direct, like saying I killed Braxton. Let me share a story with you. One night, still living with My Olds in my late twenties… another part of my shame? Okay, it’s late enough that Braxton stayed within his comfy spot. Strangely enough, my Ma comes downstairs and leaves. She didn’t say a word, only she hopped in the car and drove away. I figured something happened to my “father’s” truck, and she went to pick him up or something. In the morning, I found out she thought she was having a heart attack and drove to the nearby fire station for help. She could have died, but she didn’t trust me enough to say “HELP.”

Now I could play it as her wanting to protect me. A mother protects her kids, and she didn’t want me to see her like that. But something happened at the Day Job, and um, I have two words for you “short bus.” We’ll get into that at some point, but yep Ma and B. Ma knew I’d fuck up.

Does Braxton feel the same way? Every Wednesday, I remember him crying, and I ignored him, and come Thursday, it was as if he’d gotten over it. I have admired his strength over those last days, but no Inspector Echo. He knew his Daddy couldn’t make it better, but he had to save himself. Braxton didn’t fail; I did. Fuck up. A Mom’s B Leaving

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 308 ~When Braxton Throws Shade~

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Many things went over B’s head, covers, underneath the bed, the roof of his dog house, the fact that I would bring his water to him, and he didn’t have to be so strong. Now he’s over my head, probably giving me that look. “When Braxton Throws Shade.”

Wednesday, May 5, 2021

Gospel 308 ~When Braxton Throws Shade~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I lie better than most. I lied plenty with Braxton. My ultimate betrayal, though…

Yes, allow me to be selfish, Inspector Echo. Hell, let Hank Hill be a better father than me. He said that he was never ashamed of Bobby. I can say I was never ashamed of Braxton, but on January 31, 2021. No, it wasn’t him; it had more to do with me when everyone saw he was dying. There was the moment I walked in with his things and then without him. Picking up remains…

Okay, now that I’ve cried a fourth time today. Inspector Echo, this is what I get for my time machine antics. It’s Saturday, May 1, 2021, so that means next week will be hot garbage SIGH. Yep much like the ASM. If I hadn’t been fired already. Yeah, throwing shade. Echo, I can share so many moments of B III throwing shade but let’s focus on the basics; it was going over his head. I mean that when Braxton would hide under the bed often enough, even on that final day. It wasn’t like he was going to die, right…

My brave boy was sick of me babying him all day long. I know this is an old story. How many times I said, “I’ll help you.” I brought his water to him, but he rejected it. Braxton could walk except out the front door, into the vet’s office, or out. That’s not funny, Echo. I remember the day I thought I lost him. I was all outside in the backyard looking for him calling, then rushing back into the house. B III was in his doghouse, waking to craziness. I can’t blame him; I mean, have you met me.

I make MCD’s look pretty good. There were many times he would sit in the Den waiting for me to show up. Nope, he wasn’t worried about my day. Just start sharing the fries. Serves me right how he died. He ignored me for love of food. And I hated humanity. Inspector Echo, he wasn’t fond of people either for sure. Let Daddy go out and deal with them while he keeps his head under the covers. Literally, Echo, the sun didn’t shine until I was home and opened the shades so he could tan. Now When Braxton Throws Shade…

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 301 ~Can Count On B~

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15 years, 15 years, and near his 16th birthday found out here wasn’t here. I don’t know why I channeled Kanye West this morning, but I can always count on the background noise. Like me failing, or the Day Job, to make me mad. Can Count On B

Wednesday, April 28, 2021

Gospel 301 ~Can Count On B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which isn’t something to be bragging about, considering when it comes to my son. Braxton counts.

How many times have I said it; Braxton’s Life Matters. Those are three little words like “I love you,” “I miss you,” “I’m sorry B,” “I’ll help you,” so it goes. Numbers Inspector Echo. Fifteen years Inspector Echo and I so want to say sixteen. Would twenty be enough for me? Hell, I wanted all of his tiny little tan/beige hairs to turn Grey. Braxton the Grey, or Braxton the White. Does that sound mean? No meaner than saying that he wanted to go. In two days, it will be official. Braxton and I haven’t been apart longer than two months and some change. But May 1 will mark three months. Will I still be crying every day for him? I shouldn’t jinx myself, hmm.

I keep talking about step two of the Five Stages of Grief. Inspector Echo, I don’t know if my anger has subsided yet. As usual, I am traveling the sands of time lost because indeed I am so. B III was my constant even in death. Today is April 22, and I’m lying in this bed. The ideas that come… not those, for I am still a monk. By the time I see this again, I won’t have 5000 words to worry about. Now that will mean I’ve done my first NaNoWriMo without B III. I don’t expect the feeling will change much but with my anger at the ASM. Let’s say I do publish. I make enough to quit the Day Job, a bargain.

No matter how much I get, none of it would buy back one day I lost with B. The last five that we would have. As the song goes, “All around me are familiar faces. Worn out places, worn out faces.” I see new babies, fur babies, and how many times have I said, No? Inspector, I lost my family. I don’t deserve another; not like any could compare. That’s the thought that keeps me here. One day I will run out of treats to place in Braxton’s room. Sooner or later, I will look at these Chihuahuas and, unlike God, will say I’m lonely. Always and forever, I will remember my son. He counted on me, and what happened? I Can Count On B.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 294 ~B Guile The Neighbors~

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If B were alive, he’d be P.O.’ed at me. Either because we’d because he can’t do his job of yard defense. Who knows what bugs are out there? It’s also a bit like the fridge; his old food was growing stuff. “B Guile The Neighbors,” looking at the yard?

Wednesday, April 21, 2021

Gospel 294 ~B Guile The Neighbors~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can buy some arcade machines. Not that I was good at Street Fighter…

I hope my neighbors don’t think I’m just lazy. Hell, most of them don’t know that Braxton has passed. To be honest, this is Camp NaNoWriMo season, so um, the house’s a mess, and the yard’s grown wild. I want to say I’ve made it through NaNoWriMo again, hmm. Then what? I publish a book, make my million and move away someday. One more reason B is still in the box and not dust in the wind of the first yard that was all his to defend. I do imagine if he went to Heaven, he’s annoying God; Hell, he’s finally found a doggy playmate. Should I be ashamed for saying that? My shame was in killing him, so fuck my neighbors’ opinions Inspector Echo.

Pardon my French, but Braxton would be pissed with me, and that’s what matters. Is this really going to be about me not cutting the grass this week? Letting my son’s territory be overrun by, well, I don’t know anymore.

Yes, Braxton, my brave, handsome boy, with a big mouth. One day I’ll tell the story of when we first arrived. For now, there are only these facts. I cleaned the house for pretty girls, and I cut the grass for B. He’s one for security, and he never let his size or cuteness stop his bark. To the south is the front door, my job because B um… like father like son and in his defense the girl was hot. Our northern border was all his. He was Ghost, and I was Jon Snow and how we hated yep, Winter Is Coming, Or Spring now, so my problems of late. I feel more like Grey Worm. If you’ve been keeping up with “Dear Future Wife,” I am losing my Missandei too. You want a horrifying confession. Tell me I would have to lose my “man parts,” and I could have B alive and well… I wouldn’t even think twice.

You see how my mind works from Street Fighter’s Guile to Game of Thrones. As always, the background noise is what’s keeping me going without the pitter-patter of tiny paws. Because for now, I’m not going outside. Braxton would bark at them, but the grass… Can’t B Guile The Neighbors.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 287 ~B The Clock Challenge~

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Geez, what time is it? Let me rub the sleep from my eyes, or pollen, fur, doesn’t matter. I’ll never see my boy in this life again. I should probably stop crying with all these traditional books lying around but so little time. B The Clock Challenge.

Gospel 287 ~B The Clock Challenge~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it wouldn’t matter if I had a Rolex or Omega watch. Telling time is hard.

Would you think I would be embarrassed by that? I the time-traveler; I mean, I can do it, but just like driving a stickshift, an automatic and a digital watch is easier. If anything, I could always use a few more hands. Mine are still stained with fur and blood… figuratively. People are sick of me talking about my kid, well, those who know. I’m speaking to you on April 8. Who am I to say what Indian Gone or M Anime thinks by now. My time is split between B, the Day Job, trying to stay awake, and as Taylor Swift sings, Blank Space. Who am I kidding? Braxton is always there. You would think I’d be earlier for the Day Job but B?

There is so much left to do for him, Inspector Echo, and how did I spend my morning. As I said, everything is about him, so I wrote him another letter. How about that tattoo I want of him? There’s a video I wanted to make of him (saddest thing ever). A lone high priest. The Church of Braxton? No, I’m as selfish as I ever was, still seeking my punishment. The ending punctuation in this chapter of my life, or a pot of gold. Why I’m learning about NFT’s? Not really, please, only killing more time, but something did catch my ears about them. For one moment, I wasn’t listening for Braxton. I continue to live by the alarms I set on my phone.

Anyway, Trevor Noah talked about ownership of originals, classics, whatever. That I don’t have B III in my lap, I’ve gotten into physical books even more so. An author I am reading turned me onto them. He talked about another author and these books he did before he passed that got him into a lot of trouble. I’ve read things from writers currently incarnated but these works… Well, one of them is 50 years old, is that old? The books go for hundreds, so yeah, between Braxton and body art, and bunches of artists, give me more books. What do I have to lose? I lost my god, I’m in Hell, and what time is it again to live without Braxton? B The Clock Challenge

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will