Even without a whole lot of food, toothpaste is still needed and plentiful. I was lucky to find fajita chicken, a bag of tortilla chips, some shredded cheese, and salsa. Wait? I’m supposed to be starving and celibate… Braxton, Virgil, Dad’s BS
Wednesday, October 16, 2024
Meditation 107 ~Braxton, Virgil, Dad’s BS~
Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And how is that sitting in bed today? Bothering to wake up. Opening my mouth. Taking a breath.
I’m sure Braxton would call it BS. Especially since he no longer breathes. One more reason I’m ashamed about today. Or should I say yesterday? Honestly, I’m such a Republican.
Not really, Inspector. EFF MAGA! But you know what I mean. I’m so ashamed about the past, but at least I have the stones to talk about it with you. What about Little Virgil, Echo?
Virgil and I don’t talk. Ever… However, I’ll ask him the same questions I once asked Braxton whenever I came back to the house. Manners Maketh Man. Right, dearest Echo.
“Just me, Baby V. Did you have a good day? Good day?” Ask Virgil how many times I’ve confused the letters V and B. It’s not funny. I know, Inspector.
The things that come out of my mouth. And what’s the last thing I’ve said to Virgil. I woke up at 3:48 AM because it wasn’t a good night. Only to say… well, the s-word and why. I’m talking to you at 8:54 AM, so I’m late. What was I doing last night besides trying to make chicken nachos? Inspector, I have a theory that Braxton was always eating because he didn’t want to tell me the truth. His full belly was pushing out sadness…
Eww! Was that a joke about Braxton’s bathroom breaks? I meant I’ve never seen Braxton sadder than when he had a full belly. His last days? When it was empty…
Braxton’s Euthanasia beats out any sins I’ve ever committed existence-wise.
But let’s talk about yesterday. There’s all my talk of making a better “life” that doesn’t mean anything. When I wake up to mornings like this, Inspector Echo. Wasting time.
I can talk about the blonde in the gold bikini that broke me after what? Three days? As the song goes, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” After I woke up my “Big Willy,” Inspector. Eww! And if it hadn’t been her, it would have been Cherry. Moaning, stroking.
Besides the stress from the Day Job, take a look around this place… “I got enemies, got a lot of enemies,” lots. “Many men. Many, many, many, many men.” Then there’s looking up bad guys. Like Isaku? My big mouth, Inspector. Dad’s BS, Braxton, Virgil
1354 Days Without B III, Day 795 of Virgil’s Arrival
B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will