Category: Madam Justice

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

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For the past few weeks… Hell! Why not just say, 1037 days and counting? I’ve been losing. When it comes to the whole Victory or Death bit. One is definitely closer than the other. But what if… Happily ever after? Ha-Ha! But… Have Plans After The Win

Monday, December 4, 2023

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

Three-Hundredth And Twentieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. Does it look like I’m winning to you? Being with my boy, that’s winning.

And dying? As the song goes, “Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die.” (Raises my hand). Hell! Don’t mind if I do, as it beats this place by a mile, Madam. Today at the Day Job, that’s Sunday, December 3, 2023, to be specific. I was thinking, instead of saying, “I’m Here.” I should start saying, “I’m one step closer to my boy.” I wonder, would Braxton consider seeing his Old Man again a win? I looked in the mirror. And I heard the things that came out of my mouth. And as far as my Old Man… I woke up today and this Monday saying, “Soy un perdedor. I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me.” But Virgil?

Talk about taking the L. Of all the people that could have adopted him, he got me. Notice I said adopted. Hell! So was/is Braxton. But I call him my firstborn, my pancake. Because he couldn’t have been more mine if I had “poured the Bisquick. My Braxton, the winner. And with everything going on with the house, I can’t imagine giving some girl the D ha-ha. Yeah, even if I paid for it. And what if it were more than that? Eight years, Madam. That’s how long I’ve been here, and I’ve had no idea what to do: Dad, Hubby, a man in general. No matter what I do, I have plans to get effed… Isn’t that what happened? I just did it myself.

But what if, hmm? I’ve been hearing that a lot. What if or Destinies and the like? To win, ok. There’s a reason I’ve been heavy into HaremLit in my reading. Hell! In my writing. Please! Madam, if I did any of that for real, well… I do want to be a writer. That’s winning. Besides that, I want to be like Dennis Hof. Again, um, dead? But while he was alive, I swear. Next to all those Softcore “films” I was watching, Cathouse was everything, I swear, Madam. Can you imagine me in charge of anything? This house, “my” daily humiliations, and some ho, ho, ho’s. And then there’s a studio like PureTaboo. Live forever and conquer all. Winning! Have Plans After The Win

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

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One of the worst things about being lazy. It’s sitting here being lazy, knowing I’m lazy. Yet I work… ha-ha. So I can afford to be lazy. Then I say I want a beautiful wife, a bunch of kids, businesses, Braxton. I’d be a king? Best Seat Is The Throne.

Monday, November 27, 2023

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

Three-Hundredth And Nineteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But I’m here, aren’t I? Sitting in anxiety, anguish, antsy as all Hell. An A for alliteration?

Maybe then I wouldn’t be sitting on my butt in the middle of the bed if I made more A’s. My father would have beat me more if I had flunked out of Summer School. But there’s Times Like These… What? Thanksgiving or Monday? I wish he’d done the “deed.” Inevitably, I want to be with Braxton. It’s funny how my son was always looking for comfy spots. We both agreed on Yabbos. But then again, he ended up in Heaven, The Rainbow Bridge, or wherever. And I would choose his fur over any girl. No melons are that nice. And yet I sit here at the Dining Room table where I told him one day it’d be worth it. His pillow, bed, my lap

Now I sit alone in the car. But no, I don’t feel “safest of all.” Braxton hated car rides. Once again, my Little B was right about something. Have I ever felt comfortable driving? I know the longest drive was to B’s aunt’s wedding. And renewing my driver’s license… With all of that, where else do I go? I can sit for a few minutes at the Day Job. And hate the whole damn world. That’s why we’re talking Thanksgiving Day. Because as I sit in fear there. I’ll have to rise to get the door for a Thanksgiving meal today: the horror, the horror. Madam, I’m sure the food is good, but it’s the fact I rise at all. I’m like The Walking Dead.

And there was a time I thought if “God Gave Me Everything I Want,” I’d be in a beach chair talking to you. I could look out and see my children playing in the sand. My wife would be beside me or with the kids. Braxton would be in his little chair, getting too old. Only right this second, I want to be in bed. Madam, I mean a king-size mattress. And may I have an understanding wife with the businesses I want to run? Back, butt, beneath me.

Wheeler Walker Jr. sang, “I don’t need no air.” Women can lead you to the grave, sigh. I could be The Succubus Lord taking Hell’s throne. But the Sword of Damocles? Best Seat Is The Throne

1030 Days Without B III, Day 471 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 142 ~Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine~

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“If you can make a woman laugh, you can make her do anything,” that’s my only interest in Laughter. B made everyone laugh, including me. And I looked after him for fifteen years. What’s Laughter done for me lately? “Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine.”

Monday, November 20, 2023

Tale 142 ~Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine~

Three-Hundredth And Eighteenth Rule

Madam Justice

Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Hell! Plain ole words, too. The comedian is dead. My son. And FTWD. We are the dead.

I’m not trying to be comedic, clever, or cool. That’s for damn sure. And you know what I’m not cool with? Laughter. “I smile… I laugh… I rejoice this day.” A lot of days, Madam. Back in the day, I wanted to be a comic. I wrote comics for… let’s say a few weeks, Madam. Not the funny kind. But I didn’t start hating Laughter until E-Day number seven. Hmm? I don’t remember, and I don’t want to. Every day we move past E-Day thirty-nine, I come to another truth. I wasted “my” life. Um, existence. And the comedian is still alive and well. Nothing will be bringing Braxton back. And “Fear The Walking Dead” isn’t officially dead and buried, as I missed one episode.

How embarrassing. Braxton would give me one of his patented looks. Every Sunday, I chose my love of the dead over him. And yet I decided to kill him on a Sunday. What! The Walking Dead was on hiatus. Oh! You mean the whole “I killed my best friend” thing. Braxton had a dark sense of humor like his Dad. Again, I remember him giving me those… AHEM “blah, is you crazy?” But he never laughed. He would smile, remain silent, and then sleep. And that was my solace. My cure to every day. Let the people laugh at me. Madam, what else is there for me if it isn’t my son sleeping or guarding me while I sleep? I really want to know. You?

While I’m busy singing one of Jodeci’s hits. “Come And Talk To Me,” for those unaware of the classics. How about “Let’s Talk About Sex?” If you’re wondering why I’m late talking to you, Madam. If it weren’t for the humiliations galore at the Day Job, I would say I hate the implication of “We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off” right now. So, without my Braxton, I’m left with sex and music. And both can be funny in their way, too. As a thirty-nine-year-old man, it’s hilarious that I have to tell succubus stories to sleep. Laughter is one of those medications where the side effects are worse than the disease. Won’t laugh, smile, make a funny face… Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine

1023 Days Without B III, Day 464 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 135 ~Knowledge Of Destruction Breeds Creation~

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The opposite of war isn’t peace. It’s creation. How many tales did I write with B here? I ain’t much, but the two of us were a family. I am his Dad. And when he lay dying, I created beliefs, birthdays, and BS. Knowledge Of Destruction Breeds Creation

Monday, November 13, 2023

Tale 135 ~Knowledge Of Destruction Breeds Creation~

Three-Hundredth And Seventeenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… So, I bought a gun in 2020. It’s the End of the World As We Know It…

Or so THEY thought… And that was over STUPID things… I can’t get a haircut. Starbucks may have a bad year. Trump doesn’t get to brag about a booming economy. Hell! 2020 should have been our year, Braxton and me. Only, no wasteland or zombies. And if I couldn’t live it out, I should have been writing about it while I had the time. Hmm. The end was extremely effing nigh! What was I doing when “The Man Comes Around? That he did in 2021 for my son. Where were my big plans then? My promises. The graffiti with punctuation, which is us talking right now. What’s that? Destruction, Creation? Madam, in the end, I breed a million excuses because I’m not breeding anything else.

Gross! I know, Madam, sorry. But the truth is that everybody dies. “Daddy… everyone dies.” I can imagine Braxton telling me that. Or was it Katie in the movie “1408?” Sometime last night, Braxton sent me a song from the Foo Fighters, “DOA.” I’m crazy. That’s true enough. But the things that come up when I can’t listen to audiobooks or music at the Day Job. It was pain. The idea is that every hurt and pain is a step closer. Because what can I do as a person? Someone asked me at the Day Job how old I was. Ha! I’m ashamed to be thirty-nine. And over the past few days, I’ve been saying I must do better. I’m at the dining room table.

But the fact is that every day, I’m devolving, being destroyed, dying, my dear Madam. And with full knowledge of what’s happening, what am I doing? Can anything be done? That’s what this rule is all about. When Braxton was here… for his life… I would have found a way. Only that’s a lie, Madam. Because in fifteen years, I could have been doing something to save him. Let’s not count the first twenty years of existence. I would have never met him if I had been “Successful.” I had to be so wrecked for the Heavens to create a life like him. B waited as long as he could for me to bring new life for us, for me. Knowledge Of Destruction Breeds Creation

1016 Days Without B III, Day 457 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 128 ~Harder To Breathe On Top~

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When I think of being on top, it’s having the women, the clothes, the rides. What about my son? I nearly forgot I sent him to Heaven. But now I can barely climb out of the covers, step forward, or hold my head high. Harder To Breathe On Top

Monday, November 6, 2023

Tale 128 ~Harder To Breathe On Top~

Three-Hundredth And Sixteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… And if I could make another one, it would be this. Never Get Up Unless Wanted, by…

Me, Myself, And I? As we move further away from E-Day. Thirty-Nine still sucks, okay. Hell! It’s even more than that. It frightens me. And yes, Halloween is over. Because I’m talking to you on Wednesday, November 1, 2023. All Saints’ Day. And faith, Madam? What was it a few years back, November 5th? “Remember, remember! The fifth of November!” I’m no scholar on Guy Fawkes. Didn’t I tell Inspector Echo if I’d gotten A’s? Anyway, I almost got fired way back then because of… I don’t even remember her name or what I called her. But I felt like I was drowning and yet got to keep working, Madam. Only every morning when I wake up for the Day Job… I wish I hadn’t.

And it’s with… I was going to say nearly everything. But when was the last time I took a breath in the morning and I wanted to? All I want is one time. Just one! But every little breath I take, it’s like I’m fighting for it. And in the end, I hate this biological imperative. So, I wrote this rule. It was meant for me to be winning now. To be living “Life On Top.” Why yes, Madam. I just referenced a softcore “drama” that aired on Cinemax. Ha-Ha. But again, being on top is as simple as one foot in front of the other, not dragging. Well, any way existing. Just my opinion. I want to raise my head with confidence, not courage.

I’m not dismissing courage, Madam, but it’s the difference between life and existence. Do you know how those on top say entitlement when they mean earned? So they can take life from others. And I still want to be one of those people, a billionaire, big-shot, a boss, huh? Only it feels like while I’m earning my way… Sort of. I’m fighting that much harder to take a breath. “Running Up That Hill,” making “The Climb,” and even going down “The Road.” Am I making another playlist, Madam? Should I add Rakuen from Trigun? Keeping these eyes on the work is a challenge. Yeah, when I want to be on top of some angel who’s hot as Hell. Geez Madam! I nearly forgot Braxton is up there, somewhere. Without me… Harder To Breathe On Top

1009 Days Without B III, Day 450 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 121 ~Prisons Have Many Different Forms~

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I was arrested once when I was young and STUPID. I’m not young anymore, but STUPIDITY is a virus. I’m infected with it. There’s also Depravity, Fear, and Pain. And for today, at least, Sadness encompasses them all. “Prisons Have Many Different Forms”

Monday, October 30, 2023

Tale 121 ~Prisons Have Many Different Forms~

Three-Hundredth And Fifteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… like anything dealing with Time Travel. A dangerous business this is. And what’s my punishment, Dear Madam?

Grounding me, “When We Were Young” was no TV, Internet, and the like —going nowhere? As I was telling Baby B this morning, Thursday, October 26, 2023. I’m not going to Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge, or Purgatory. With that knowledge, I long to die. Why?

Sleeplessness? Now, that would be a punishment. I haven’t taken a nap today. But Hell, Braxton’s been gone 1,002 days. It’s like I’m doing life.

Sexlessness? I might as well be a damn eunuch. I’d say a priest. But only if Braxton were my religion. And there’s no women here.

Simoleons aren’t rolling in like they did the last few weeks, sigh. I barely made a hundred dollars. These are like confessions for Inspector Echo, Madam —my Dirty Little Secret.

Secrets, to be fair. And silence is one Hell of a prison. This is why I’ve been all about buying audiobooks. eBooks, and stealing “ideas” from X/Twitter. Things “Things That Make You Go, Hmm.” It’s more like things that make you moan and other noises…

Sadness though… That’s the one thing that has been loud and clear. If I hadn’t stopped crying at some point, I’m sure I would have drowned in my tears by now. Have I cried today? At the moment, I feel like crying. Only it’s not 100% Braxton. I mentioned I didn’t get a nap and was so frustrated this morning that I’m back to Day One-ish. Being a slave to certain addictions makes me sick and tired. It’s pretty sad.

It’s like when you hear an icon talking about a crime. And you know for a fact, yeah, I did that. Hell! I’ll do that tomorrow and the next day. It’s how certain people look at history, knowing they want to do such things and then trying to claim innocence.

Madam, why else do you think I read all those books on people who had to make “the decision” for their fur babies? You exist with that choice and then in the presence of their absence. It’s always and forever. And yet, you get to walk away from the crime. I remember my perp walk from Banfield and the aisle of PetSmart. I’ve never left.

What are my other crimes? Prisons Have Many Different Forms.

1002 Days Without B III, Day 443 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 114 ~Some Sirens Find You Regardless~

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Sometimes, when I reread “my” ramblings, I see I wasn’t meant to talk. Screaming, moaning? Hell! Be the strong, silent type. No. That was my son. But there’s only one of him to cry over. No tears for the ladies? Well? Some Sirens Find You Regardless.

Monday, October 23, 2023

Tale 114 ~Some Sirens Find You Regardless~

Three-Hundredth And Fourteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… And how about websites? To think. Suppose I lost access to Twitter/X, Onlyfans, and The Pic Phenomenon.

Suppose I lost it all for a day, Madam—only one day. And I’m trying, Madam. Braxton knows I’m trying. When Braxton was here, as Michael Jackson sang it, “Keep it in the closet.” Ha-ha. And yet I had to give my son “The Talk.” Especially when it came to his Aunt Carolina; my Braxton was a man who recognized her “assets,” the same as me. Like father, like son. Regardless of such features, Virgil will not have such problems. No woman has been in this house since his arrival. As a matter of fact. No maids, best friends, or even women of… um, never mind. Not that I have ever paid for “it.” But there have been other things. And if not. There’s Whisper.

That’s where I met Braxton’s Aunt, and that “Must have been a miracle,” Madam Justice. A lack of bedsprings to sing must mean I find my musical taste elsewhere. Everywhere! But women. Now, I treat everyone as if they’re carriers of a zombie plague. Infected! I always say… ok think, “If you’re not my dog, my girl, or applying for the job, don’t touch me.” Only with women, it’s like something out of the Bible. “Fear not them that kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear (HER) that is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.” If I’m not studying or fawning over the dead, give me mermaids, succubi, Lilith, witches, maenads, scream queens, and sirens.

Who has more monsters, men or women? I wrote a book about it once. Monster Brothel? But that’s not the point. And what is, my critic will ask. I fall in love easily? Once upon a time. And quite horribly. Only that’s something I have to thank Braxton for. He showed me love, and then he broke my heart. Hell! Who needs women? My B was/is braver more beautiful. And yes, better than any woman. Yet I always promised I’d find him a mom. Yeah. Women are everywhere. I will burn or freeze in the Ninth Circle for betraying him. I either deserve to burn and yet be cold and sleepless. Or I’m not worthy of a girl on fire. Some Sirens Find You Regardless

995 Days Without B III, Day 436 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 107 ~Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed~

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I watch people with purses, knapsacks, lunch containers, book bags, and everything else daily. All they need today or longer? And those people in boxes? Or Hell! Bags too. A good supply of them with everything going on. Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed.

Monday, October 16, 2023

Tale 107 ~Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed~

Three-Hundredth And Thirteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Am I getting better with these intros, or what? Do I have writing in the bag? Hmm.

And a lot of other stuff, too. It’s better not to go flaunting everything that I carry around with me. Have you ever heard that song, Head Shoulders Knees and Toes? The adult version of that is Phone Wallet Keys and Glasses. And who said I am a grown-up? Ha! I’m still crying over Braxton. He is the only one I carry with me. Madam, there was this big storm, and I remember grabbing the box with Braxton’s… remains. I mean, if the town blew away and all. Anything that takes me to my boy. Or prevents me from going outside. I mean today since I’m time traveling. It’s Sunday, October 15, 2023. That means? I’ll be spending today thinking of being in a box.

I need to stop with this. Uh, I’ve been watching for days on end. People winding up in a bag or a box. “Glass or plastic, glass or plastic?” As Stanley Goodspeed might say. Gulp. Am I going to offend anyone by talking about Israel, Hamas, Palestine, Iran, or wherever? If I did, you know how I am… scorched Earth. I don’t pack up and leave or box stuff up. Do I have to remember that time the Olds cut me off? I bagged up a lot of things then. Hell! I even left Braxton because I had no clue where I was going. It was the longest B and I were apart. And now? If we count Monday, it’s been 988 Days. Keep counting.

What? The ways bags are better than boxes. Suppose I can remember why I even made this rule, Madam. Other than how I’ve wanted a briefcase to hold money or… viruses. Resident Evil. To think there was a time I wanted to study Virology. Putting people in boxes? Madam, I don’t mean how M Anime talks about going “soldier.” But speaking of boxes… uh, yeah. I want to be in her box or Cherry’s. And how many women can I name? And still, that would be nothing but trouble. Tell that to Pandora. Some boxes should stay closed and yet. I want a million, um, a billion dollars kept in a duffle bag. Now that would be living, wouldn’t it? Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed

988 Days Without B III, Day 429 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 100 ~Motivation Is Merely The Invitation~

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What motivates and inspires me? Virgil needs to eat. So did Braxton? In the places I go, I don’t need invitations. But I’m not motivated to be there. It’s The Bare Necessities. So they say. But to have all I want… Motivation Is Merely The Invitation.

Monday, October 9, 2023

Tale 100 ~Motivation Is Merely The Invitation~

Three-Hundredth And Twelfth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… So, of course, my primary motivation is more money and cruelty against my fellow man. That so?

Is that a threat? Consider it an invitation… If I could remember where I first heard this, Madam. But isn’t that why we’re here today? Well, Saturday, October 7, 2023. Because, much like last week, this one is going to suck. So why show up if I’m this unhappy, hmm? Braxton needs to eat. Well, not anymore since I failed him. What I meant to say is Virgil needs food. How’s that for motivation? As I was telling Lady Lu this morning, keeping 2V safe. First, there was a possum. And this morning, a black cat was staring. GULP! I needed to get up and go. The story of my existence, “Run Boy Run.” And am I running from or towards? Regardless, there’s always FEAR…

And that shouldn’t serve as motivation. An invitation to be courageous? Thou art courageous. If anything. After last week, I’d settle on this. Don’t be dumb. I am trying, ha. Ignorance kills! And if I don’t have a heart attack. Or crumble with my FEAR. Ignorance will be the culprit. And every day… I swear! Even now, I’m mad about my shattered reading record with Braxton. A memory is gone. But I read, always and forever. Whatever! Five Hundred and Forty-Two days, I see. It’s not like I’m getting less ignorant. Everything I read is punishing myself over Braxton or something to do with Boo… No! I’m not talking about Halloween. And then there are Kindle Challenges and other books. An invitation to avoid Ignorance…

Well, I could stop looking up… “other” forms of entertainment. That is if you’re wondering why this conversation is taking so long. I want to get more sleep this week. But more to the point, I can’t help what I want. My greatest sin… Well, the second. My first is Treachery. I wasn’t motivated to do much of nothing with B’s death. It’s all my fault. Afterwards though? I can find anything when it comes to some girl. Japanese, Chinese, Russian… I would have done much better in some language classes. But what do I know? FEAR, Ignorance, and Lust. And with enough money and power. Am I Motivated enough? I got up, rushing around for an iPad. Existence, Life? Motivation Is Merely The Invitation

981 Days Without B III, Day 422 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 093 ~No Scar Is The Same~

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“Cause it hurts when you hurt somebody.” And I don’t want to do that… That’s a lie. When it comes to certain people, pain is fun. But I never wanted to hurt B III, 2V, or scar people. And how’s that working out. Chicks dig scars? No Scar Is The Same.

Monday, October 2, 2023

Tale 093 ~No Scar Is The Same~

Three-Hundredth And Eleventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… This means I must always be hurting somebody. And yet, I’ll play the victim. But these scars…

Heart, Mind, Body, And Soul. I want to say I don’t have a heart. But a lie against B? Madam, I remember when they told me B had a Heart Murmur. I have his medications. And twice every day… at least once (sniffles), I call him for “Medicine Time.” But in the end, it was his kidneys that failed. I failed Braxton, my son, prince. Hell! The littlest God, Madam. And talk about not being healed or leaving a scar. A broken heart, 974 Days. Well, by the time you read this, anyway. I’m way in the past. With Time Travel, it’s Sunday, September 24, 2023. Still in the month of E-Day. Oh! You know we’re going to talk about that. And thirty-nine still sucks.

My head hurts. But the only scars I ever hear about came from my sister when she cut my forehead. Or whichever poor lady cuts my hair. As I don’t take care of myself, sigh. The real damage is my mind, though. Have you noticed how I talk to myself? Hell! The fact that I do talk to myself at all. And about what? How Republicans scar us all daily. My body, though. I’ve noticed… yeah I still have The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident tag. There’s also the memory of The Cherry Collision. What do I have in the closet, along with every outfit for potential partners? I call myself as a sadist. But I’m just a sucker for pain. And what about my soul?

Without Braxton’s death and the ninth circle, I’d be headed for the second with my LUST. This blog, The Pic Phenomenon, character customizations, lingerie purchases…

My poor Ma… from my mother’s womb, untimely ripped. A scar I’m sure she bares. Madam, that’s something I wish I could heal. Again, we’ve moved beyond E-Day for another year, but if I had my way… All I’ve ever done is cause her pain; I know it. Hmm. Then there’s my son, my granddad’s funeral, the fur baby I adopted. Virgil doesn’t cry… Not until I leave the house anyway. And for now, he must be bored out of his mind, poor guy. Me? Besides billionaire status, I’m worried and pained. So many scars… No Scar Is The Same

974 Days Without B III, Day 415 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will