Tag: Age

Tale 067 ~Bye Braxton, Buy Virgil~

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I was pretty young, buying my first Fleshlight, a camera, and… well, I must have been. Now, I’d have to have express delivery for anything I want for E-Day. Not like Heaven… or Hell delivers. The Olds have bad news. V’s quiet. Bye Braxton, Buy Virgil

Wednesday, September 6, 2023

Tale 067 ~Bye Braxton, Buy Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or should I call myself a thief? Inspector, I’m far worse. A liar, a manipulator… murderer?

“Why can’t I just be normal?” Can’t I play Far Cry 5 or watch a movie as E-Day approaches? Um? I could buy a PS5. I didn’t say that? And even if I were for real, I wouldn’t make time to play it. I’m not even watching “Home Security Guard 2” after downloading it. Inspector, it’s still Sunday, September 3, 2023. I’m still “Turning Japanese,” I really think so. But we’ll get to that. I keep saying that, Inspector, and there’s Emergence Day. God, I wish I could say more about this existence. And you know what I want more than Braxton back. Extinction? But no, Inspector, I’m sitting here napping, procrastinating, etc. At least Virgil’s still alive and well. I paid for Braxton’s… Euthanasia.

But let’s talk about what I’ve been buying on the second worst day existing, Inspector. As I’ve said, I’ve been looking at what the critic likes and dislikes: languages sometimes. Anyway, I don’t know who I’m paying. Russians, Japanese, the greedy Republicans with their “kinks.” Either way, I’m not a good person. Hell! I’m even keeping my pants on, ha. There’s this place right here. I’m sitting in bed, not working on escaping the Day Job. But I want to talk. And I want the critic to say whatever about my speech, even with corrections. And I mentioned something about some nasty chicken I bought, but it wasn’t Pizza Hut. I don’t expect Braxton’s Aunt to buy me a pizza for E-Day again. Good girl.

I don’t want to think about what I will buy on E-Day. When Braxton was here, there was always food and even cake. There could be a full night’s sleep, Inspector. Though being the greedy so-and-so I am, I always want more. Emergence, Existence, Extinction, uh? Anytime would be good to join my boy. And with what the Olds might say about their son at thirty-nine that has done absolutely nothing with the existence they permitted… Inspector, I am afraid. That’s something else I can’t get for E-Day. Love and happiness, peace of mind, Echo. There’s also the idea of a piece of… again, the critic, censorship, and cowardice. Inspector, I can’t say goodbye or buy my way out of this. Time remains priceless, Inspector.

948 Days Without B III, Day 389 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 060 ~E-Day Fools Virgil, B~

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I meant to explain what E-Day is? Hell! I can’t explain why I get out of bed in the morning. I’d like to say for fifteen years, it was because Braxton needed me to. Or my Olds said so. There’s Virgil. He’s still alive, I exist. E-Day Fools Virgil, B.

Wednesday, August 30, 2023

Tale 060 ~E-Day Fools Virgil, B~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Which means I don’t have to EVOLVE. Republicans haven’t. And you know what B stands for…

Emergence? Wait, that doesn’t start with a B. But instead of talking about Braxton’s death. Let me be a selfish “person” since it’s my day. Well, counting today, it will be in T-minus 9 days. Then again, I’m time-traveling. And I’ve already screwed up with my critic on being clear, concise, and making my case. The comedian is dead. I should be, but here goes…

What is E-Day? Again, let us begin with Emergence and why I won’t vote Republican. With women, I’m Pro-Choice. Let women do whatever they want. But with my Ma… sigh. Come E-Day, she should have done some thinking. And that’s an insult, I know, Inspector. Both me and my younger sister were C-sections. She wanted us here alive and well.

Existence for me, though… If I had my way… I would not recommend it. Like ever. I try my hardest not to say words like life or live. That is not what this is, Inspector. Questions such as What is my favorite movie, set of mammaries, type of music, etc., Echo. I couldn’t tell you any of it. But right above that line, “Funny when you’re dead how people start listenin'” from The Band Perry. There’s “Feeling super, super (super!) suicidal” from Marina and The Diamonds, Teen Idle. And God, I know Inspector, turning thirty-nine. And what have I done? Or rather, why have I done nothing but exist, Inspector? My greatest accomplishment was my son Braxton. I thought I was being selfish today. Right?

Extinction though? Erasure, euthanasia… Hell! Evil! My boy should be here. And how dare I even think that he was the lucky one. I don’t disrespect my Ma, Little B, and how about myself. Uh. I disrespect myself all the time. But I don’t get off light Echo, not ever. I’m not a man of faith, but as the song goes, “Everybody wanna go to heaven. But nobody wants to die.” I want to Inspector. But this is Hell, and I am right where I belong. Only I cry out, “What’s my crime!” Which is worse? I was around seven or eight, asking, “What the Hell is going on?” Or killing my best friend at thirty-six?” Doesn’t matter; I’m still breathing. E-Day Fools Virgil, B

941 Days Without B III, Day 382 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 053 ~B’s DIE Job Virgil~

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So much red ink in school. Gray hairs in my beard… I’m too old to have my Olds signing checks for me. The most official thing I’ve signed is for the death of my firstborn son. And his little tan hairs are replaced with white ones. B’s DIE Job Virgil

Wednesday, August 23, 2023

Tale 053 ~B’s DIE Job Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’d say anything or do anything… Other than saying my boy’s dead or killing him…

Again? But as I approach thirty-nine, that’s the only thing I can hold as an accomplishment —the stuff on “my” Bucket List. I want to be in love. And I want to know what It’s like to kill… thank you, Eli Roth. Am I better off than The 40-Year-Old Virgin… There have been girls. A lot… Why aren’t I a billionaire already? And have I paid for sex? Do I need a priest? Uh, we’ll get to that Inspector. But on the subject of death. The only one that’s come close to my wrath looks at me in the mirror every morning. Why are we talking about this this morning? Afternoon, considering time travel. Today is Thursday, August 17, 2023. But on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Braxton’s Fire and Blood.

Must I be so dramatic? And as if I could be like George R. R. Martin. Aren’t I a writer? Inspector, this whole damn month, I’ve felt like “Comic Book Guy” on The Simpsons. Oh!

How many days have I spent writing, and for what? It’s not fear, Inspector… Laziness. This is one more reason I’m not a doctor. Well, a scientist. Suppose you asked me for specifics besides me being STUPID. Inspector, I’ve looked into Virology. Zombie Virus? Solanum? Maybe I do need a priest. But I would never become one. Once upon a time, someone said I would become a preacher. I only had a use for God with two things, you know. To save my son. And for sex… How’s the brothel?

I’m not ashamed of saying I wanted to be Dennis Hof, Hugh Hefner, Larry Flynt. A particular photographer. Or The Most Talented Man In The World, Johnny Sins. My God! Inspector, what am I going to do? I still have a few weeks if I’m lucky. Will my Olds call? I wouldn’t blame them at all. My entire 30s have been one freaking disappointment, Echo. Hell! This existence. What am I, Inspector? The only comfort Braxton had was my love. And that only gets you so far. Again, look to my Olds. A son with a part-time Day Job who writes. All their checks vs. my words. One last job? Ruin me and Braxton’s existences. Virgil’s here, white hairs replacing brown/beige/tan. B’s DIE Job Virgil

934 Days Without B III, Day 375 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 046 ~Virgil, We’ll Be Listening~

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What big ears you have. Is the hole in the fence bigger? Is the phone loud enough.? Then there’s Virgil, who never makes a sound unless I walk out the door. How long do the neighbors have to listen to him? If I will. “Virgil, We’ll Be Listening”

Wednesday, August 16, 2023

Tale 046 ~Virgil, We’ll Be Listening~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. So I haven’t been complaining about my ears, the fence, Virgil vomiting on the phone… Uh?

Hell! I should be ashamed that it took him “almost” doing that to get my attention to do something. And after a few days, how is life for him now? If anything, the fact that he’s alive after one year here. Gotcha Day wasn’t big, ha. He had a bath and brush. A new bed? No! If I’m going to spend money… It’s going towards putting my firstborn, my Braxton, in a box. And what about the new one I’m supposed to be buying? If I had money… And that would take getting out of bed. Or how about, I don’t know. Trying to be happy. Is that from B? I wasn’t happy when he was here, but I was better. And then his silence.

What I wouldn’t give for a bout of silence. If anything, shouldn’t this be the most humiliating thing in existence? The fact that I still talk to myself. Imaginary friends. Pretending? At least with Braxton, I could pretend. But even saying V’s name these days. And that’s if I’m not busy moaning… It’s more like I let the girls I watch moan in one way or another. But I’m trying, Inspector. Every day, it gets a little bit “harder.” Really! Considering I’m time traveling now, Monday, August 14, 2023. It’s been 17 days for now. That’s all the bellyaching. Or rather, belly scraping, you’ll hear from me. Not even edging. But there is plenty to be upset about since we’re talking now. The Day Job?

Can I listen to the instructions at work? Don’t be STUPID. I’m not a visual guy there. But all about the visual lady’s Yabbos, but she’s gone. At least she told me she was leaving for a time. God knows I wish I could leave forever. Take from that what you will, Echo, I know. And speaking of which, the things I’ve been saying or, more to the fact, what I’ve been writing about. Will you please understand, Inspector? My mind is about three things. There’s my boys —namely Braxton. There’s making bucks. And, of course, anything to do with making babies. Oh! These three things are like a mixed drink that “messes” me up. 99 Problems. Virgil, me, B’s ghost. Virgil, We’ll Be Listening

927 Days Without B III, Day 368 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 039 ~Virgil, Braxton Aged Out~

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I’m getting too old for this shit. To be living off my Olds. The kids will be on my lawn as the fence falls. When was the last time I got laid? I can’t afford to be a sugar daddy. Fur kids and Depression. But how can that be? Virgil, Braxton Aged Out

Wednesday, August 9, 2023

Tale 039 ~Virgil, Braxton Aged Out~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And other lies I don’t want to hear. Hell! The truth, too. Be positive, happy, thirty-eight.

Because thirty-nine is fast approaching. And what am I going to do with that? I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but does Ron DeSantis have a point about Shakespeare? I’m thinking Romeo + Juliet, to be honest. There’s Thirteen Reasons Why’s “Hannah Baker” and Robert Frobisher from Cloud Atlas. Three teens and a grown-ass man. What did they do? Love? Getting screwed over, literally. Must I be so vulgar? And the world’s coming down. The last few mornings, I have awoken with more tears than usual, Inspector. The thought? Can I say it already? Well, according to my critic, I can’t. EVER! I’m learning to hate reading and writing again. What I read makes me cry, and what I write makes other people. I suck!

And don’t I sound like some teenager? Braxton was fifteen, which is all grown up. Inspector that’s going by fur buddy standards. I doubt I have such resolve to stay. Inspector. Braxton fought tooth and nail to stay. Why can’t I do the same? Exhaustion… The fence is ready to give way any second. How old is it? I think I was thirty-two when Braxton and I moved here… No! I’m sorry. We were placed. Living with my Olds. Sad. While I’m speaking like an old white guy, Mr. Trump. Problems of the past are rushing into the future. To see black people fight against that tide. Montgomery Riverfront Brawl. Meanwhile, I’ve been at my Day Job for how long? If not my Dad. Braxton…

The Day Job would be another good reason not to get up again. Echo, it’s incredible that I can do that with this mattress. Yet where am I right now? Why don’t I leave today? Looking at the clock, it’s past eight, meaning Virgil needs to go outside. The fence? Inspector, I was about to say these glasses are old, but these are only from a year ago. The old ones? Yeah, the ones I had when I would look upon my son. What must I look like now to him? I’m older but no wiser. Because again, something from last year, uh, that’s V. His Gotcha Day is Sunday. So, Petsmart on Saturday? Maybe? The shame, like Braxton dying, remember? Virgil, Braxton Aged Out

920 Days Without B III, Day 361 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 068 ~B My Age V~

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Today is the second worse day of existence, E-Day. The first is the day B died. The third involves “Tifa Lockhart’s dress.” The fourth is starting the Day Job. But let’s focus on today or not. To not have to emerge or exist today being 38. B My Age V

Wednesday, September 7, 2022

Saga 068 ~B My Age V~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, at the age of 38. If that were true, then Happy E-Day. Of course, I’m not.

I should preface this because I’m writing on Sunday, September 4, 2022. You know I don’t want to do a damn thing on E-Day. Except that it vanishes. Hell! I need a break now, Inspector. But if I have any chance to … FUCK survive! The one thing I can’t fail at Inspector Echo. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I have to do something today. Air conditioning? The money I don’t have to help Virgil be more comfortable. And as for myself? Existence? Inspector, if I wanted to die, I could block my Olds’ numbers. Inevitable what’s coming. It’s only going to get worse. And without Braxton but with Virgil here. I should have thought about that. I’m amazed I rise every day.

Who knows, I might get lucky. We’re still dealing with the real-world Inspector Echo. Now that being said. As I spoke to my Future Wife, what do I want for E-Day, the 38th ha? The song says, “The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” Inspector, to DIE. Simple and plain. I wake up on fire anyway, trying to comfort a puppy, don’t I? Speaking of a drooling dog, how about a drooling me? I’ve seen Braxton’s aunt Carolina naked, sure. Or at least her Yabbos. Either way, she won’t say anything about E-Day out of respect or forgetfulness. Then, of course, there’s Cherry and M Anime. Ha-Ha, that’s so funny. Cherry doesn’t know. M Anime… “Not That Kind” of girl.

Ok, that goes for both of them, to be honest. The other girls I know… or could pay for, um? Did I mention I’m right here with the door open to get air and help V with the heat? Yep. No money. But if I work today, I can get out of the house and find a fan or something. Echo, what will I do come the actual day? What about in the future as I do Endure and Survive? I looked up where I was last year. There were 37 things on that list, and not one was finished. Chronicle 068 ~B III The Emergence~. Lying, I did get a new battery. At my age, what have I done? To B My Age V

Chronicle 068 ~B III The Emergence~

584 Days Without B III, Day 025 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Log 155 ~Is Will “GULP” Gray~

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I like that song from Seal, Kiss From A Rose, and I fear I’m going gray, as the morning didn’t lie, or maybe I dreamed it up I am so tired these days, I hope I’m not so old when I find her. Is Will “Gulp” Gray?

Tuesday, November 26, 2019

Log 155 ~Is Will “GULP” Gray~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now like the alphas in most of the books I read. Now here’s a confession for you, I didn’t get into a “specific” genre until I read E.L. James’s works. You know My Love I’m a traditionalist. No Man Cave but The Study. I’m not one for a bunch of lights. If there’s anything “modern” about me, while I still keep paper copies of books, nothing beats a Kindle. So what am I going on about today, well it all started when I looked in the mirror.

I still hate mirrors as if I’m a vampire or something. Back in my day, vampires were scary, not that I have anything against Blade or Twilight. Speaking of fangs, My Dæmon wears his age well, doesn’t he? Any day now, he’s going to spout a beard, or all his hairs will turn to gray.

One more thing that will happen before I ever let you meet my “father.” The Dead don’t walk the Earth, yet. Won’t Indiana Gone be pleased? I told her that there would be WALKERS before I got married. Anyway, I fear if you met my “dad,” I would be dead to you. My mom is great; you could talk to my sister but, my dad? “I didn’t know Tony” had a son” I’ve heard that my entire life. The strange thing is I have listened to worse, that’s why I don’t lie. If I were the “Lord Of War” you would know what I do baby doll. Do I keep personal and business life separate? Of course, we have two-legged children. Still, I even keep my fur-baby somewhat sheltered. However, my point is also Indiana Gone didn’t think my father looked half bad. I’m not the jealous type I mean; the Devil has many colors.

Is that why I like black so much? Okay, that brings me back to the mirror this morning. SIGH, I found gray hairs. Baby girl, I’m an old man. It’s not just that though, between my ear, which I bring up every day and too much light? I don’t wear sweaters, but I’m always in a hoody. I’m figuring out money though we have billions. What about the news? I’m keeping up with everything. Most of the novels I write while fiction are almost biographies.

Still, I’m your old man right; Is Will Gulp Gray.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 186 ~Will Turns To Ink~

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All the ink I’ve spilled, there is not a doubt in my mind that I am meant to be a writer and worrying about B III keeps me on point most days and with the money, I have split between them, and here I want to be Reality Kings. Will Turns To Ink.

Thursday, January 3, 2019

Episode 186 ~Will Turns To Ink~

WARNING, 18+, READER DISCRETION ADVISED

Come In Dirty Diana,
How To Make One Million Dollars, become a pimp, direct pornos, hell even gay for pay if I swung that way, so yeah I guess I understand that, $$$$ wouldn’t be enough for me to sell my body, though I have slightly loose morals… not that much. So baring that I decided to become a writer so I could be whatever I wanted but why wait; I waited too long and missed out on a great girl, there is the fact of “What’s My Age Again,” and dare I call myself INSATIABLE with several different things.

A healthy obsession, as my Motivations would put it; I asked some people what they think I’m obsessed with and without a doubt my son, all the money I have put on him, and he’s even shown up in a story here or there. As for books, my writing was the next thing and how could I not, again that’s what telling a story, writing a poem, talking to you even, it’s bleeding, it’s painful, it’s art, removing the poison from within. Maybe that’s the sin I should have told Inspector Echo because these days the blood has not become ink but different, with time.

Again I hate the holidays, but with the free time I have in abundance, I can’t say I have used it productively as much, my words nonexistent out of my mouth while I watch a beautiful woman moan my name over and over, when is the last time I’ve heard such divinity. My fingers possess the Midas Touch, how much gold is too much to lift them, and then I release those fortunes to see her “treasure box” to watch her skin glow, and how she does shine. My eyes as black as the devil, red from her fire or is it from a lack of sleep which is one more reason I’m not writing my story but instead, directing, producing, and geeking out about it. E.L. James had Christian Grey to write, I wonder how the Marquis de Sade got anything done and Todd Michaels book Begging For It, of course, is damn illegal.

“It’s a wonder that humankind has constructed any kind of civilization with this monumental distraction at hand.” Youth in Revolt

So of course why I have always known it’s possible (with varying degrees of success) living a bit of my story has made me “reluctant” okay downright lazy to write; if I could be like Jadis somewhat, who continued to be the artist but also became the paint. Where have my hands been, if anything I’m wiping the drool from my chin, I’m somewhat surprised I haven’t lost myself in any screen; I’m a cautionary tale of lust maybe because how Will Turns To Ink.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 179 ~Willies Under The Tree~

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I wouldn’t make Santa out to be a pimp or a dominant, only the owner of a big corporation so that he doesn’t have to worry about money, with one woman he’s been with forever and some little ones that aren’t his but he cares… “Willies Under The Tree.”

Thursday, December 27, 2018

Episode 179 ~Willies Under The Tree~

WARNING, 18+, READER DISCRETION ADVISED

Come In Dirty Diana,
How To Make One Million Dollars, Christmas isn’t that expensive; love is priceless, but the present, a gift, that wish, when a girl’s on her knees, when she shuts her eyes, hell when you leave her breathless. God, Daddy, ha my name would be good, but I don’t know many girls who call out to Santa and am I still hoping I’ll end up with some sexy eighteen-year-old vixen one day?

My tastes lately have let’s say matured though I’m not giving up but am I even “trying” at all or maybe I have more sense surprisingly… I didn’t buy any lingerie this Christmas though I’ve tossed around a bit of Erotica. One way or another it’s all about keeping the girl around isn’t it, Baby It’s Cold Outside so yeah it was bras and bikinis one year, books this one, and of course my BDSM lifestyle is all year round. The ideas of ribbons and bows give me a hard-on, and again I like wrapping up a P.Y.T but maybe what’s bothering me today, being dominant is one thing, and if you can love someone, well you can do anything but Santa loves the wives, mothers, and singles too right.

Ho, Ho, Ho indeed, because I want the girl and like any Dom, I want all that she is, now and how many times have you heard me say (from my Motivations) I’m not preaching separatism or isolation, what I desire is to know a woman like no one else. In return, I would give all of myself, and I would want for her to wish for it, be wanton for this, how about being wistful about me. It’s scary to know desire so badly and graver still if not but not from a lack of submission or devotion, instead because there is another life, and as always any man takes care of what; who belongs to him and if his woman values something even more than herself he must in turn value such too.

Newton, Santa, Mother Nature leave something under the tree, gifts to the world and I haven’t heard any complaints yet about mine… other than being a tad bit inappropriate at times. Not today though, this isn’t anywhere near lascivious, this time of the year but what about the rest of this month: sad perhaps this being our last conversation this year, Willies Under The Tree.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 069 ~Well Will Wasn’t Lit~

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I’ve never been one for burning books… well except if those books happen to have my name on them, or from a blog here or there but as you can probably see I haven’t been on fire lately anyway. “Well Will Wasn’t Lit”

Saturday, September 8, 2018

Episode 069 ~Well Will Wasn’t Lit~

Hey Lady Lu,
Give Me One Reason other than they burn books at 451 degrees, that we shouldn’t say goodbye to Summer just yet or that I haven’t made a wish on a star forever, so why on Earth would I need candles? This whole week, I’ve expected squad lights, an interrogation room, I’ve seen the sun in the sky and the light reflected on nickels and dimes, cash burning a hole in my pocket, while I’ve watched others lights vanish into Hellfire itself easily.

Can we at least agree that the cops aren’t looking for me? With as many as I’ve seen… probably not without a healthy dose of Electroconvulsive Therapy (yes I looked that up). Maybe one good release but I’m back on NO FAP. Should I get back to writing then and be warmed by my fire… probably not today, a man has to eat and while I would prefer another type of Cherry Pie than what I had on “The Day” well DoorDash is enlightening. Speaking of which I’m sure you’re interested how “The Day” turned out and I would say that I’ve seen the light, but you know how I tend to repeat history and so I didn’t need it to know *sigh* That’s How You Know you f***** up.

Should a person get more responses than the age facing them, that would be thirty-four, besides “Indiana Gone,” “Okay,” my immediate family (that’s three) Pizza Hut, and OKC, nobody knew, seven messages and I made sure the Ranches down in Nevada didn’t know. I didn’t need anyone trying to make a buck off of me, but again DoorDash did, and I regret that because I didn’t want to get off my lazy butt for McDonald’s and I’m out fifteen dollars. “Indiana Gone” did pay me back a lot plus another fifty for “The Day” but all that’s going towards Project Alamo, seriously I’m still Alive, how and why, inquiring minds?

So is there a silver lining other than my beard in the bathroom lights, what about some light at the end of the road, and am I not on the Highway To Hell which is the only light that remains constant in this life? Who knows what I will find in the blaze that seeks to swallow me. In All The Stars which have existed much longer than I can ever remember. But, so you know, Well Will Wasn’t Lit.

I Will Have No Fear