Was last week as humiliating? I should ask Santa for a rating scale. I got a new app for my writing. It says… GET HELP! Most wonderful time of the year, my ass. I’m surprised mine wasn’t fired today. Christmas gifts? Braxton, Virgil, Find Santa.
Tuesday, December 23, 2025
Journey 175 ~Braxton, Virgil, Find Santa~
Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? You found me. My boys found me first. And today, what did I find? Who?
Most days… Every day? As Wesley moaned in 2008’s “Wanted,” I don’t know who I am,” my love. And at the same time, since I’m quoting movies, it’s like 1993’s Demolition Man, “Isn’t there a thought repeating in that barbaric brain of yours… Don’t you have someone to k*ll?” I don’t know myself. And at the same time, I know exactly who I hate most.
Anxiety vs. Depression. Sweat vs. Blood. Braxton vs. Virgil. Coke vs. Pepsi. It goes on.
“And The Beat Goes On.” “The Whispers,” in my own effing head, my beloved. Madness.
And what does any of this have to do with Christmas? Honestly nothing. And Santa.
Love, “you don’t know how lovely you are.” And lucky or is that just me?
“I fill my lungs with fear and I Exhale!”
It’s My Turn to Fly, The Urge ‧ 2000 (Titan A.E.)
If the kids come running saying, “I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus.” I’d want more.
And do you see how screwed up I am? I don’t know if I’m being cute, if I’d be doing more with my c*ck with you, or if I’m playing cuck and watching some jolly fat man with you, love. If I had a Christmas wish right this second, we’d be enjoying the Red/Black room…
Fifty Shades of Grey reference, amongst other things? And what are those things you ask?
Humiliations Galore! Boredom, the boys, and boxes of Christmas trees. Anything else has my eyes busting out of my skull. Boobies, blondes, brunettes, black hair. Hell, a buxom redhead, I am not picky. I’m easy to shop for. Magic Glasses…
Augmented realities, artificial intelligence, and amorality. Your husband’s an asshole. Like the song from Dennis Leary, I’m an “Asshole.” But a lucky one. Without pegging.
Eww! But I’m lucky. I got to play Santa for my two furry little boys. Or at least I tried, and I keep trying for B and V. But how old is Santa? Is he one of The Walking Dead?
Love, I could relate to him even more. But I’ll lie and play Santa for our kids. And I’m curious if you’re on the naughty or nice list. Even when I feel like… What? Nothing?
Because if I found Santa, I know what I’d ask for. It starts with D. Not my d*ck. A wish list? Braxton, Virgil, Find Santa
1787 Days Without B III, Day 1228 of Virgil’s Arrival
B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will
