All the small things, chicken biscuits off the shelves and not getting them in the drive-thru. The Yabbo files I’ve been working on instead of writing. Of course, there is always my little boy, gone 262 Days. “Bucket Says B III,” sometimes.
Wednesday, October 20, 2021
Chronicle 111 ~Bucket Says B III~
Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would make it in for a chicken biscuit sometime today. There’s always time.
Um, no, there’s not, but I did wake up around two AM today. But getting two more hours of sleep, I woke up at four and then fell right back to sleep, yep. It’s not nightmares but wanting to wake up dead and then seeing death staring you in the face. B was my life. Doggie kisses or some pretty girl’s… it’s been a long time since I’ve made a comparison. Where are we now; 262 Days without Little B. Even longer when it comes to the chicks. Hell, all the chicks in the world wouldn’t make up for Braxton being here. A monk again? I’m trying Inspector Echo, twisting my legs all into knots. As it stands, 3 Days, 17 Hours. Yes, it’s timed.
Braxton isn’t very patient when it comes to his favorite things in the world. Going outside, a biscuit for his bathroom spot, doggie cuddles from Moi? Inspector, it’s Fries always. These days as a routine, I stop and pick up fries except for Saturdays. If I’m going to betray my best friend. When I pick up a box of Street Tacos, I’ll choose onion rings. Bastard. Only this week, all I’ve wanted is a chicken biscuit but with the “promotion” and all. As the song goes, “Work sucks, I know.” If I go pick one up today, what’s left this week? Echo, a lesson from Braxton, “The best legs, breasts, and thighs are in a bucket of chicken.” My little boy was a wise one.
I’m not talking about my penis; that would be my big boy, right? Besides thinking of the vittles, I haven’t been getting. Or my Braxton, of course. It’s been all about boobs, some Yabbos. When you’re hauling boxes of crap, what’s a man to do? If I was writing Echo? Now I’m not complaining about OnlyFans. I’m thinking the reason I started that is because the house is Hell. But the Day Job is what took me away from Braxton. Should I be thanking them or cursing them? At least the ASM quit, so yay. I still need to eat. Chicken for my table or more like for Braxton’s tummy. For now, I’ll go write at the dining room table, SIGH. Bucket Says B III
262 Days Without B III
BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will