It wasn’t a dinner to write home about. But I’m not a bastard. I thanked my Ma and, of course, shared with Virgil. Who knows, maybe we could have our own full Thanksgiving meal if I were writing books or reading those of merit. They’ll B Books Virgil
Friday, November 25, 2022
Saga 147 ~They’ll B Books Virgil~
Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I will be if any of my books get turned into a movie. Right, NaNoWriMo…
I’ve missed the whole damn thing at this point. And as far as what I’ve been writing… Well, the most positive thing I can think of is this. The past two days at the Day Job haven’t been the most horrible in recent memory. But it’s better not to talk about today lest I cry. More like flying off into a RAGE. Considering a few recent “stress releases.” I’m hopeless. Ok, back to positivity. I did finish reading World War Z Thursday. A Kindle Challenge. But that means one more thing I have to do today. Finding something else to read. And Lady Sophia, it’s getting around that time. The books I read over the Christmas Holiday (sigh); we’ll get to that. But my education…
Hell! Like I ever took that seriously before. If only I had done so. There are so many idiots making billions and ruling the world. Not to mention all the people making money for anything and everything. That is another reason I’m heavy into Audiobooks. Succubus Lord? How many times has it been now, Lady Sophia, reading about Jacob and his Harem? Sophia, I have plenty of books about harems. Only reading my writings and musings, ha. And as I said, we’re approaching Christmas, which means Christmas Erotica. It’s a little bit funny; I’m unsure how to feel about that new movie, Violent Night. Christmas sex? Um, yes, please. But violence? Especially since I like Home Alone and Die Hard. Hard, something I don’t want.
Well, only when I’m in a position to have some girl do something about it, Lady Sophia. But I’d give it all up to go and read a book with Braxton napping away. Memories, Sophia. The turkey dinners Braxton and I would get from my Ma. In comparison to yesterday, Thanksgiving indeed. But aren’t I a grown-ass man? Yeah, I’m nothing to write about. And again, the Day Job could have been a million times worse. And if I wrote something, anything, of merit… It always comes back to this. B III would be alive. The unbridled avarice of his own turkey. And A for Archie wouldn’t have become V for Virgil. Is that mean? Virgil will have a book someday. They’ll B Books Virgil
663 Days Without B III, Day 104 of Virgil’s Arrival
BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will