Saga 230 ~Bad News B, V~

That someone can feel the same way that I do? But I’m not reading about dead fur babies this year. Okay, the first three books I read this year. Then The Book Eaters didn’t count on the Kindle. And if Ron has his way… No Black History? Bad News B, V.

Thursday, February 16, 2023

Saga 230 ~Bad News B, V~

746 Days Without B III, Day 187 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You see what time it is. So you know my day is already bad. Worse…

There is always room for that. And since you’ve been gone, nothing makes it better. Boobs? I had an epiphany last night. Yeah, that’s never a good thing, is it? But okay, let’s go with boobs. I know you always felt better. When you were snuggled up with your aunt. Hell. Could you have stayed longer, B? I’m sure she beat any cloud you’re on. You should still be here in your own bed. Speaking of which, bucks. Payday B III (sigh). I’m crying over you, I promise. I still need to check the Day Job paycheck. Owing Virgil? Be nice to Virgil, I keep telling myself. He did get to lay with me when I was reading last night. So much to do today.

That’s the bad news B III. I mean, it’s always that you’re not here, but I exist and go on. For example, having finished Dystopian Girls 3, I want a new book. Which one, Braxton? I do want to know what happens to Alexa in Dystopian Girls 4. I’m also afraid to. Do you remember Stroke of Midnight? I never went in for the sequel. Plus, that was in 2020. Here come more tears, Triple B. Anytime I have to look into the past. Didn’t I say I have Republican tendencies? Only this isn’t CRT, Black History, or the like. It’s our history B III, and I do feel ashamed. Then looking towards the future… I read to avoid the bad news of the world.

Again part of this epiphany. Mammaries, manuscripts, and money. Anything to avoid the mutt in the next room. Fucking be nice, I know, I know. I am trying with Virgil; Braxton, the bad news keeps coming. I should try that. Yeah, gross; you’re so right, Braxton. Remember, I would watch you show out for your aunt, and I had to have the talk with you. Getting all Bobby Brown “Ain’t nobody humpin’ around.” That reminds me that I still need to pick a song on Spotify. Honest to God, Braxton, I don’t want to begin. Living, laughing, loving? Why is that shit so catchy? Because I’m still existing. For what? To exist and not know why, without you B. Bad News? Bad News B, V

Always and Forever,
Your Dad