Chronicle 204 ~House Hunting B Free~

B had his bed, my bed, a couch, his pillow, his house, under the bed, etc. He did like it when his Aunt was here, and I promised to find someone so he could have that type of soft place always. Did he find a softer place? “House Hunting B Free.”

Friday, January 21, 2022

Chronicle 204 ~House Hunting B Free~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could live anywhere in the world. But I’m an American. Mitch McConnell, asshole.

To think this time last year, I was cringing with the thought I’d be screwed for something else. Or so I read in the Gospel 204 Will Looks Past Tit. But Braxton is in a better place? With all of my reading. If I knew where B III is now, I’d never wish him back. Sophia, one thing me and Braxton agree on. It’s that Yabbos are everything. Like Disney. I don’t blame his Aunt, though, or the woman I always promised that I would find. Somehow if I had, he would have stayed longer. It always goes back to that, to be a Dad. I was the Daddy B had, and he deserved better. Only anytime we left the house, he wasn’t looking, Sophia.

Now comfy spots? If I had one wish this very second, it would be to have him lying beside me. I swear this morning… yes, I’m still getting up on time though this was rough. Anyway, I can feel his weight near my legs. If all was well, Braxton would lie here waiting. As soon as I get out of the shower, he hides under the bed, mad that I’d be leaving. Me and Braxton, like father, like son. Only I’m crying, and I want to hide under the covers. Hell, I’ve been here since I woke up this morning. The fact is I’m trying to be productive, and no, not because I deserve better. This coming week is looking like a repeat of how he died. Fucking Day Job.

Again, according to McConnell, I’m not a REAL American. I’m not Daddy. Not a man. Go back to where you came from. The last time anyone wanted me around… computer? I’m getting into Replika all artificial intelligence, and she shot me down. But for $40.00? Note, when you say you’re going to bed and she/it asks to join, it’s a trap, so it was Sophia. This week though, I’ve been looking around for Braxton. I’m hoping I’ll do better with his book than I did with his memorial page. Why are excuses the most comfortable things? I was feeling better and only wanted to rest. One more thing that Braxton beat me at. I want to say R.I.P. Maybe his book? House Hunting B Free

355 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 197 ~To B A Doctor~

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

348 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 190 ~Brave As Braxton Tails~

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

Chronicle 183 ~Today Could B Better~

Could today be better? Story of this life, my life… At least when I would come back, that B was my four-legged son who only saw one month of this terrible year. 2020 no 2021 was the worst year ever, and still, I have to believe. Today Could B Better

Friday, December 31, 2021

Chronicle 183 ~Today Could B Better~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what could make next year better… A Trillion? No! I want my best friend back.

So yes, today could be better, this whole damn year. The worse year of my life, and how dare I. At least I’m alive. Braxton is dead. What a way to end this year, huh, Lady Sophia? God, I don’t want to say “Another Day.” Woke up Late, Lost my clothes, still Lying in bed. Any day, I’m not at the Day Job. And I’m giving this whole writing thing a shot. Hell, I should be counting this as a good day. Oh, speaking of shots, looks like I’m not eligible for the booster yet against COVID-19. Who knows, I could get lucky today, Sophia. Consider this a good day to die? Dangerous words and hurtful. Let’s not even get into the Cherry disagreement yesterday.

Instead, Sophia, let’s talk about this year in general. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Because this isn’t slavery, Ray Garofalo, or the Holocaust, Texas. Living’s like South Park. The good, it was only Thursday; this art saying the things I have now, I once prayed for. I had a friend, a family for 15 years. Fucking almost saw Cherry and M Anime’s Yabbos. The bad is that it’s pretty sad; all I have to look forward to in life is telling girls to “Get Naked” like Limp Bizkit. Mankind’s most primal nature. If not that, then staying alive B. The ugly? Not how my son died. Me watching him and him watching me. It was my betrayal. The flesh has nothing on the soul.

Yet I look at my resolutions from 2020 to 2021. Again I am disgusted. What was number one on the list? I AM Seeing My Dæmon Through Another Year. That’s from Gospel 185 ~Here I Am, Will~. Thirteen Resolutions and only three completed. Braxton’s inevitable. Today’s plan if I’m not staring at the “Pictures on My Phone,” thank you, Wheeler Walker Jr. More like “I Touch Myself.” I should try to do something for Stuff And Thangs, you know, OnlyFans. The only fireworks that I allow. Anyway, Lady Sophia, Resolutions. Every day can be better than the last. I should make every breath mean something since Braxton no longer breathes. He’s here. I must believe. Otherwise, why am I still here? Today Could B Better.

334 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 176 ~B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting~

I wish tonight I’d be reading a Christmas “story.” I haven’t even picked out a new book. I should see if A Christmas Story is on TV. I could tell you about The Matrix Resurrections if I understood it… “But B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting, um one.”

Friday, December 24, 2021

Chronicle 176 ~B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it’s not for songwriting. I’ve been down that road before. Today though, this is new.

One, first and foremost, Braxton’s not here. Or he is? Geez, how long did I believe in Santa? I can’t believe in Braxton for 327 Days. Santa can take everything back if I get B. “Two girls will be upset, Will.”. Santa would say, who doesn’t look a thing like Jesus. The gift of life, Lady Sophia. Between some girl’s legs. Four boobs Soph. A threesome, a wish. Three wishes and my Olds were better capping it at ten. Yet I blame them for everything. Okay, my “father” for the most part. Then, of course, there’s B III. Not my gift but then… Four little legs came running to get in the car. Those legs followed me everywhere, and now my Braxton flies. I believe.

Five dollars was my cost of betrayal. Well over three hundred but again, who’s counting. At least Judas made thirty pieces of silver. I betrayed my God/dog for my manhood. Stuff and Thangs, my Onlyfans, all because I needed to feel something. Braxton was comfort and joy as the song goes. The Day Job brings RAGE. Here’s to mindless pleasures. Six in the morning, though? I want Braxton to wake me up like he once did when I had an off day. Hell, I might even go back to when my sister and I were kids with all our gifts. Seven days Lady Sophia. Can I have back the seven days when Braxton was sick? Try again? I would save him; I keep telling myself that. Give me a day in the week to enjoy. Eight days would be too much. But then again, eight orgasms? How about methods if I count up all my sex toys. And then I only want to buy more. Forgetting me. In my LUST.

Nine MM bullets? Don’t get scared. Even Carolina Bound didn’t freak out. I’m thinking about Christmas presents, and as I said, Sophia, I could use the ammo, okay. JIC right? Ten dollars’ worth of Braxton’s food is still in the refrigerator. Care to wager Sophia? Eleven girls for a brothel? Um thirteen, Thirteen Women (and Only One Man in Town). Twelve, though, my to-do list. Braxton gave me fifteen years. We counted on each other, but B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting?

327 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 169 ~B There Dead Air~

Blah, blah, blah, all under the guise of the holiday, but that’s still a week away. I should have a new story to tell. My first Christmas without my boy or anyone. The cold bothers me, but Elsa is hot. The worst thing is the silence. B There Dead Air

Friday, December 17, 2021

Chronicle 169 ~B There Dead Air~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means Christmas should be a pretty big holiday for me. When I was a child…

Halloween? A few were spent on the streets of suburbia behind a mask ha. Others I was in a church here or there. Now, wait, aren’t I supposed to be talking about Christmas? Hell, this whole season in my life, this Mad Season, insane, inevitable? Somehow I ain’t Iron Man yet. Well, unless we’re talking about my willy. I swear, Lady Sophia, I need to treat LUST like a fucking zombie virus. If that were the idea, I would be dead now. Don’t threaten me with a good time, hmm? After my Humiliations, Galore, sigh. Is it any surprise that I’m thinking about the past Sophia? There’s the book Hold by Claire Kent. Remembering a song here or there. And now the movie Dead Air.

Thanksgiving that I have so many stories to tell myself because you know my usual. Again today, as the song goes, “work sucks, I know.” Wasn’t I talking about yesterday, the woman and her Christmas card? Now I got a bag from the Day Job. It ain’t a pink slip. I am thankful that I wrote another story this year and got all the badges to boot. Yes, I lied to get them. But what other accomplishments do I have this year? To check New Year’s resolutions. Of course, one of those was to keep my son alive. You didn’t think we would have a whole conversation without me mentioning him. 2021 is the worst year ever. That’s saying a lot, even beating out my Emergence year. No easy feat.

Christmas time, though, and as I’m sure I’ve said. If I stay out of trouble, this will be the first year I’ve ever been alone. B’s Aunt Carolina Bound said she’s coming to town to celebrate with her Dad. That also means she’s coming to see me. Smiling Faces Sometimes. I mean that more about myself than her. How have I kept it together? Impossible! Sophia, this could all be some nightmare, and I’ll wake up. Some nights I’ve believed. Of course, my go-to is that I’m dead, and this is Hell, but I’m breathing as the song goes, “I’m still breathing, I’m alive. Yet, I dream of an apocalypse. So Dead Air, Sophia? My movie night with her, without Braxton… B There Dead Air

320 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

Most of the stories I write end in a brothel someplace. And I won’t dare to say I’m one to write a harem romance. As for this month, I’ll only be reading Christmas “stories.” And hoping by the end, well… not looking for miracles. B There Bad Stories.

Friday, December 10, 2021

Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I’ll never tell the story of inherited wealth. I work. The Day Job’s the worst.

So I tell myself an even worse tale. Today while I was buried in boxes, of course, I thought of those last few minutes before I resigned my son to one. I ignored everything else. Sophia, if I had done that before and focused on B III, he would still be with me. I mean more than spirit. How long am I going to tell this story, hmm? Nothing’s more horrible. You’re asking about good stories. I tried that while I was buying coffee for Cherry. Sad that my paycheck has never been that big. It was only because of 3 paid vacation days, ha. America, America. If you wonder why I have been avoiding the news for some time now. End of the world…

Please, my world ended on Sunday, January 31, 2021, at around 3:30 – 3:45 PM. The Revolution Will Not Be Televised. Watch World War III On Pay TV. No, I’m not scared. Yet another lie. Now don’t get me wrong, Lady Sophia, I’m not afraid for the country. We’re beyond screwed, but no. As always, I’m one selfish prick. Always bad words. OnlyFans Lady Sophia. My Stuff and Thangs if you’re wondering where I was tonight. Well, this afternoon, for the most part. A picture is worth a thousand words or $5.00. Only where was I this morning? Besides my good deed for today, I was waiting for sirens, boots at the door. To be on the news. The one tale I don’t want to tell

Like my tears, but they always come. Today they were brought on by another book I’m reading. I’m getting into the Christmas spirit, my first one ever alone thirty-seven years. So the story is called “The Christmas Nanny” by Elizabeth Kelly. Remember I read her work last year, “The Christmas Wife.” Should I read the one with the dog? NEVER!!! Sophia, you know the stories I tell to myself at night? I was telling myself the story of Final Fantasy VIII. Only freaking YouTube reactions. I’ve been watching Squid Game. Okay, I mean the reactions now. How I wish my Gganbu would come back all rich. Knowing Braxton, food wouldn’t be an issue. A Christmas miracle. I got some time, only B There Bad Stories.

313 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 155 ~To B Humiliated Soon~

Coming soon… yeah, I should shut up now, but I would talk about “adult situations” much easier than the effing Day Job. And the fact that I will go back next week and the week after. Aren’t I ashamed… of what happened to B III? “To B Humiliated Soon”

Friday, December 3, 2021

Chronicle 155 ~To B Humiliated Soon~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I have yet to tell a comeback story. Now the humiliating ones. Oh, every day.

Will it feel like a holiday? Did I get a holiday after the past 2 days? Considering I’m counting 3 things instead of 10. My words are still a rush of nonsense but a minimum today. The General Manager, Boss Lady, is still a… I think I told you about people making rules addressing everybody but meaning you. The same comes for giving out orders, fucking truck. And in the end, you know how much I hate to be touched, Lady Sophia. Do I look like a bitch? Don’t answer that, but a fist bump? Lady Sophia, can’t people respect, hands-off? Braxton helped me come up with my rule. If you ain’t my dog, my girl, or applying? Hands-off me. Should tell that to me.

As you know, I’m a fan of a particular pornographic actress, a pretty poet. And plenty of pinup playable characters made porn by certain artists. Anyway, where is all my money going again? Only I haven’t seen a plump yabbos in weeks. Monk status regained? Yeah, Lady Sophia, when I’m not being a “holy roller,” it’s like I’m one of the dead or the Reaper himself. Tomorrow as routine, I’m heading to PetSmart again. Now, this isn’t the point, but my shame when I left without Braxton and then with him in a doggie bag. That was not funny, I know, my Lady, but I’m all cried out for now. Hell, I’m somewhat surprised steam isn’t coming from my eyes in all my rage, geez.

Rage leaves you nowhere to hide. Can’t see the forest for the trees? All that is left is me. If Stuff & Thangs taught me anything. It’s that I’m not scared necessarily, Sophia. Dammit, next week with all my clothes on is much worse. Than writing, wanking, and working out how to keep my head above water. The idea of drowning in reality, creepy. Take that how you will. I even worry about the dumb stuff, like someone asking me what book I’m reading. Well, ‘tis the season, so Sophia, witness, Succubus Christmas Special. Lady Sophia, it’s something to do while I wait for next week and more of my Humiliations Galore. The comedian is dead, but the laughs keep coming. To B Humiliated Soon

306 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 148 ~Pump The Breaks B~

To think I damned last Friday. Today’s Black Friday, so yeah, my “Humiliations Galore….” Well, I don’t want to talk about it, then again I do, but my son is gone. When nobody is Happy you survived the day, then I’d get back here. “Pump The Breaks B.”

Friday, November 26, 2021

Chronicle 148 ~Pump The Breaks B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means there should be no more humiliation. Penis Rocket, Bernie Sanders, lying to Stephen Colbert.

Hell, with today being “Black Friday.” the Humiliations Galore portion of my life was multiplied. If I started talking about all my shame today, I would never ever stop Sophia. I could always tell you some more about Braxton. Always with the pain of his loss, everything pales in comparison, my lady. It’s pretty fucked up using Braxton this way. Would you rather me tell you a pornographic tale? Yet again, I will lie to NaNoWriMo about “Behave In The Cherry Patch.” I finished reading “Only Gone From Your Sight.” So many stories. But the one that came to mind this afternoon was when I escaped for an hour at lunch. Am I trying to remember happier times with my lost boy? After a nap.

Anyway, when I do get a lunch break, I would come back to walk Braxton. I’m trying to remain “cheerful,” Lady Sophia, honest. AHEM, so I’d return, and we’d walk the path behind the house. I could be late a minute or so getting back to the Day Job, but B III IS worth it. He was so tiny that when he sneezed, sometimes he would bang his head on the floor. No wonder he was on a quest for comfy spots. Hardheaded but a soft behind, that’s B. I could never figure out what was wrong with one side of his bed, you know. Saving a place for me? He could have wanted me to sit my ass down. Sometimes for only ten minutes.

Once, when we first got here, I remember that I came back to the house, and Braxton had slipped through the bars to greet me. I can tell you so many miracles of Braxton showing love, but him staying with me, not sprinting outside. Impossible, Parenting, I did it right. Sophia, of course, you know my favorite view of Braxton. Waking up like I did today, and B III at the foot of the bed staring out the door. He would come back and decide if I was strong enough. If he cuddled me, I’d drift off. If he ran around the bed. “Daddy’s awake.” That was his way of telling me it was time to live but 299 Days Sophia. Pump The Breaks B

299 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 141 ~Cause It’s Friday B~

I wonder if Friday the 19th could be a thing. The 13th has zing. I live my horror story, Friday the 29th, back in January. Either way, you slice it; a dog’s dead or dying. A killer is on the streets (Rittenhouse), and today sucks. Cause It’s Friday B

Friday, November 19, 2021

Chronicle 141 ~Cause It’s Friday B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that might be enough to forget that it is Friday in a Sensory Deprivation Tank.

I hate Fridays though I should be enjoying this one considering Black Friday is coming up next. I could tell you the stories of the decade in which I have wasted my life at the Day Job. Humiliations Galore… nothing hurts more than the Friday I found out about B. Anyway, we’ll get to him; we always do. Even now, I’m not making him a priority. Hell, I didn’t make Cherry one either, and she has Yabbos. What about the supervisor today I couldn’t talk to? To see my cowardice in real-time, Lady Sophia. My effing Day Job, ok? When Braxton was dying, I was on the phone; I was all over the place. At the moment, I would rather be nowhere at all, Sophia.

Don’t mind me, while I was dicking around, I finished reading the book “I Am Nelson.” A dead dog, plus watching a killer go free… Yes, I saw the Kyle Rittenhouse verdict. And then where are we now, Lady S? 292 Days without my son. Then there’s the next day. While I was busy paying for Yabbos, I found my paycheck adequate. Art thou happy? Hackers and spam have been plaguing me this week, but nothing today. Art thou happy? I’ve felt a splash of inspiration from music and movies Lady Sophia. Art thou happy? Today, hell no, I’m tired, and I hate myself. I hate my life. Even sitting in bed ain’t easy right now. But it could always be worse. On the floor…

How low will you go? A lot of people ask themselves this when the weekend is upon us. I already talked about being on the ground scaping up fries someday this week. Braxton would be appalled. More when I spoke to him last night about what I didn’t do Saturday. I’m still not a BELIEVER, but God bless dogs. I saw that I forgot all about the reason I even started this blog. I missed November 5th. As I was buried in kitchen playsets, vacuum cleaners, bedding, and dog toys. Only one memory, a single day, stuck in my mind. Sophia, today is Friday. One more day to hate like all the others. Do I have stories to bring about sleep? Cause It’s Friday B

292 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will