Tag: Apocalypse

Meditation 149 ~Breathe Virgil. Don’t B~

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When my other boy wakes up… V? He must ask himself, what fresh Hell is this? I’m much the same when I head out to the Day Job… When I’m out anywhere. I’m afraid of the skin I’m in, the steps I take, and a sigh while breathing. Breathe Virgil. Don’t B

Wednesday, November 27, 2024

Meditation 149 ~Breathe Virgil. Don’t B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… By being me? Yes, we can talk about what time it is. 6:21 PM, WTF! But to live…

Is that what I’m calling the next five hours? How about the six when I was at the Day Job? We can even go back, checks notes 1396 days. You know AB, as in After Braxton. Two things. One, I didn’t want to live before I even met Braxton. Two, I shouldn’t be taking any notes. The way I’ve been writing this month. But we’ll get to that Inspector Echo.

Why? Because this body I wield doesn’t know how to stop breathing. That’s the sin I’ve been recovering from. I’ve been brushing up on the STATE RELIGION coming next year. However, Dear Inspector Echo, Sia said it best. And no, Not Succubus Lord’s Madam Sia…

“I’m still breathing, I’m still breathing
I’m alive.”
Alive, Sia

For the wages of sin is death? Don’t I wish.

The things I contemplate while tears blur my vision at the Day Job. Have I truly mourned for my firstborn son today? If I did, it was more a result of exhaustion than genuine grief. Despite the poignant words I read this morning. What’s one more book on pet loss…

Anyway, at the Day Job, I started thinking about three things. All about FEAR, Inspector. The first was the simple fact that I hate the skin I’m in. And not because MAGA says I should. The second was that I didn’t want to breathe. Fearing your own next breath… No one knows what it’s like. This leads to number three: I have to show why I’m not worthy of it, which leads to my writing.

Inspector, I wrote two whole novels about the loss of my son. But what did I write about last night? I stole an SFM Anime about a girl and three soldiers. Then I took a scene from Bible Black New Testament, Episode 4 Recollection. Add to that a mass… whatever.

But I don’t dare ask where everyone is going. Bingo? No! I breathe, and thus, I’m guilty, or so I’ve been told. But I don’t believe in God. I believe “There is another world. There is a better world. Well, there must be.” Because my son is there and I’m not worthy of it, Echo.

Because I am consumed by fear. And with what this world is… Why not write about worse places and evil men? Breathe Virgil. Don’t B.

1396 Days Without B III, Day 837 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 147 ~Turkey Day, B Willing~

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Can turkeys fly? I looked up the answer today. No wonder America has issues. I’ve dreamed my son was a bird here or there, a pigeon or an albatross. I had to look that up, too. As I’m not watching the news or how to cook turkey. Turkey Day, B Willing

Monday, November 25, 2024

Meditation 147 ~Turkey Day, B Willing~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Are you beginning to believe? What, in The Matrix? A world without me in it. I’m right here, Dad.

And for once, I’m not begging you for food, though I ask that you share it with my little brother. Wow, I accepted Virgil as a family member before you? My brother and your son.

You’re wondering… What’s with all the movies, right? I’ve been sitting there right next to you. When you’re watching them all, writing, and you can’t kick me out anymore when you’re looking at women… I’m kidding about that last one. You would say, “Not today.”

That was whenever my Aunt came around, and I wanted to play with my toys. Let the good times roll. But you’ve been having Hard Times. But this week, Thursday. For real. It is my favorite day after my birthday and your E-Day. Of course.

As if you needed to be reminded of the day. Every day for me is this question. “When’s Dad coming home? We both smile at that but for different reasons. But this is my time now, so listen to me. When I asked when you were coming home, it was more than the place that took you away from me from time to time. It’s when I thought about when you’d smile. Which was rare.

Oh, and now you’re crying, and that will make me cry. Keep listening to me. Coming home is when you hold me in your arms, and there was nothing but us. It was that look you would give me when you knew you had nothing to fear because I was there. You’re not a chicken.

You aren’t a pigeon. Neither are you a seagull. With the election, you’re not an eagle. And no, you’re definitely not a turkey. I’d call you my superhero, my master, a king, maybe a titan, or even a god. Father is God in the eyes of a child. But I know who you are. Dad.

You’re my Dad. And my Dad is stronger than anything and everything. “Behold Thy Creation.” Seriously, Dad, you don’t believe I’m speaking. You had to look that quote up. It’s from 2009’s Creation. Coincidence? I was four that year, and Virgil is four. And what am I, Dad? “I’m a leaf on the wind. Watch how I soar.” No. I’m the wind, breath, yours. Today, always. Turkey Day, B Willing

1394 Days Without B III, Day 835 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 142 ~Need More B’s Virgil~

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WARNING: 18+ For elements of the novel I’m writing. Or am I being lazy for writing 405 words instead of (checks notes) 725? I’m here; I’m writing. I need some sleep, as the song goes. I need more Z’s. More like A, B, C, D, etc. “Need More B’s Virgil”

Wednesday, November 20, 2024

Meditation 142 ~Need More B’s Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And I’m probably gon’ do some mo’, you shouldn’t hold that against me though. Meaning? I’m being lazy.

Yesterday was humiliating… Witches, man. Now, swap the B with a W. Some girls, Inspector.

And I’m worried I didn’t do good work at the Day Job. And what about my chosen vocation? Writing, Inspector Echo? I’m ignoring my editing like I once ignored Braxton. And Virgil? He’s okay… I’m writing. Or so I hope.

Chapter Thirteen: Forgetting The Terms And Conditions
Sofía confronts William, The Director, about working in Richard Thornfield’s sex trafficking. William promises protection while enjoying benefits.

  1. From William’s POV. Begin in William’s house. Sofía rages at William about what she went through at the hotel with Richard Thornfield and others.
  2. William’s other house guest explains that William is only another victim, as they all are. But William can warn Sofía of Richard Thornfield’s plans.
  3. Sofía angrily decides to give herself to William. William warns Sofía that touching isn’t allowed. Sofía then touches the other woman as William watches.
  4. The woman then quietly departs as William and Sofía enjoy each other as they watch one another bring themselves to orgasm. Sofía then leaves.
  5. William reports to Richard Thornfield, who then praises him on his work, Sofía. But demands that William direct a ruthless hardcore scene for Sofía.
  6. William then visits Sofía, telling her of the scene but not revealing his total involvement in its creation. Sofía asks, can William do anything?
  7. Cherry shows up to Sofía and threatens William. Cherry says she’ll reveal everything to Sofía if William refuses her. Sofía watches William and Cherry.
  8. William returns to his house and again calls for company from two girls. Afterward, he lies in bed contemplating the price of Sofía’s freedom.
  9. William discusses with Richard Thornfield the price of Sofía. And offers to continue his work. Richard Thornfield scoffs at the idea. William threatens him.
  10. Sofía begins her scene with several gentlemen, but she now recognizes William there. Despite the rough sex, she is comforted by his presence watching.
  11. William apologizes to Sofía as he sits beside the bed. Cherry comes in trying to concoct her plan to make Sofía undesirable to Richard.
  12. Sofía says that she can’t take more scenes like the one she endured. William decides he must use his funds in more criminal ways.

Need More B’s Virgil

1389 Days Without B III, Day 830 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 140 ~B Z’s No Longer~

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“If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.” Or my B III that weighs less than ten pounds, sitting on my head every morning. My lap or chest while reading. Have a heart for the little guy. What? B Z’s No Longer

Monday, November 18, 2024

Meditation 140 ~B Z’s No Longer~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Still don’t believe me? Free Up Your Mind… That’s what you’re doing right now. Or listening to Pokémon’s Playlist.

Who needs a Pokémon when you had me? Do you remember when you told me that? Pokémon: The First Movie came out, well… way before my time. “Life” before existence.

Daddy, you would have been fourteen, way back then. But I remember when you would sing all the Pokémon songs to me. The joy in your voice and the love in your eyes are memories I cherish. The theme song, Brother My Brother, Together Forever, even the Jigglypuff song when you were lulling me off to sleep rubbing my belly.

There was also “The Time Has Come…” But that was so far away. Sometimes, you didn’t talk. And sometimes I didn’t listen. But just like today isn’t today, Saturday, November 9, 2024, and Monday, November 18, 2004. We’re here, Dad, you and me together. I still sound like that book.

Speaking of books, what are you reading next? I’m more of a what’s in the bag and what’s in the box. It’s my birthday type of guy. But yesterday… was it just yesterday we talked about books? But, “This Christmas will be a very special Christmas.” “In my mind.” I am my father’s son, after all. Speaking through the music. A beast with a beat.

Anyway, back to books. You’ve been thinking about what to read next. And it won’t be the usual Christmas stuff you got REALLY quiet for. Tradition… Everything tells you to prepare for what’s to come in a 1984 Brave New World, The Handmaid’s Tale, It Can’t Happen Here sort of way. You and I always expected zombies to rise. Unfortunately,

It’s not the moans of the undead. Oh me? I’m not dead. You feel that beat within your chest right now. You hear that voice that isn’t entirely yours. You changed titles; how many times now? What about those little cries, the pitter-patter of feet, and the sigh of contentment?

But why now? I’m not bugging you, am I? And neither is Virgil’s breathing, Daddy.

Breathe in and breathe out. If Virgil can do it, you can too. He is there to remind you, Dad. And maybe it’s your need for balance. You say I left silence. And now the world is making too much noise. But remember, you’re not alone. You need to hear that somebody loves you. Like the force? I love you, always. B Z’s No Longer.

1387 Days Without B III, Day 828 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 135 ~Virgil, B Not Embarrassed~

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I did a few days in a detention center once. Don’t threaten people in print. OH! I’ve said things to girls… Uh, I know a few angry fathers. OH! Stay away from specific foreign contacts… OH! Why aren’t I the next President? “Virgil, B Not Embarrassed”

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

Meditation 135 ~Virgil, B Not Embarrassed~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Well, no, Inspector Echo, no, I have not. I identify as the billionaire white guy who became president.

Last night, I stood in the kitchen thinking of this house mess. As I thought of my son, who I took from this world. The boy that I treat with such… I don’t know what, Inspector. But it’s not that I’m playing the role of a Dad again. Didn’t I adopt Virgil? Expectations… Responsibilities… Sacrifices.

As the night wore on, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I would fall short in NaNoWriMo. I’ve burned through the last of my cushion, leaving me with around 21,000 words. When did M Anime share her nightmare with me again? And when I wasn’t writing, I was preoccupied with building a harem. One Piece’s Nami, ‘Landlady,’ a few models and cosplayers. It’s embarrassing, Inspector, to admit these personal failures.

Not when the US elected Donald J Trump as President!

“By all that you hold dear on this good Earth. I bid you stand, Men of the West!!!” ― Aragon

This is not what Aragon meant. I’ve been standing this week, Inspector. Just being STUPID! A failure to this country. You know I have a guilt complex. Talk about representation…

But again, I was in the shower, and I was thinking about all the horrible things I say about women. But have I ever been found guilty of “SA?” Nope! But Trump can be president.

It’s that time of the year again when the Day Job hires certain types of employees. And I may not like it. But I don’t call people names. I don’t talk about camps. I don’t write laws to restrict their rights. Again, I am an equal opportunity misanthropist, dear Inspector.

However, America is not. Hey, I’m just a black man.

And I won’t say I’m an especially good one. I’m the guy who thought Whitney Wright’s “Prom Night” was a bit much. I know more models and European agents than I care to admit. And? B III rests in a box. Instead of feeling the guilt and shame of criminality,

Inspector Echo, I see the criminal who has risen from the ash. I watch the darkness descend upon this country and scream out. What’s My Crime? Any embarrassment? Some shame?

There are no such things if I were to run for office. But I respect women too much. I don’t demonize the poor. I don’t care who people marry. OUR kids should be educated, Echo.

Only This Is America. Eff TRUMP! Virgil, B Not Embarrassed

1382 Days Without B III, Day 823 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 133 ~A, B, C, Me~

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If I had 12 Apostles, I’d have 6 men, 7 women, and a dog. In my writing, I have 2 men, 4 women, and my dog… My FIRSTBORN. This is my B. I hope that I’m hearing him. “God” knows I don’t want to hear from anyone else. But my son Braxton… “A, B, C, Me.”

Monday, November 11, 2024

Meditation 133 ~A, B, C, Me~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… You don’t believe me? When did you last think about Theresa Walker’s song from Dead Air? Zombies? Music? Movies?

And then there’s “Jack McAfghan: Pawprints from Heaven: How to Communicate with Your Pets in the Afterlife.” Don’t go thanking him just yet, Dad. Though there’s a reason you picked up that book. It’s not like you ever asked me about book choices. Like ever…

There were the books you would read to me. And then the ones when I assumed you were letting me sleep. How’s that been going for you? Like I didn’t know Dad with my spot. Virgil sleeps in the center at the foot of the bed. “Left side, strong side.” That’s my spot. Movie reference? I am my father’s son. I miss our movie nights with you and my aunt.

Daddy, we should have more, not just on… you know.

And that’s why I’m here today. Time? It’s overrated. And it’s not that I’m here now. I’m always here. Or did I really smell that bad? Virgil hasn’t thought of touching my bed. He’s a good boy. Can I call someone else a good boy? There’s a lot to unpack there, but again, there’s you. My Dad, my best friend, my brother. Don’t go crying again, Dad. I didn’t cry.

At what you thought of as the end, I didn’t cry. Okay, I gave you a look. You needed me.

And today, you need me. Because this has been the first time ever something’s compared.

Sunday, January 31, 2021. And now, on Wednesday, November 6, 2024. What about E-Day, Dad? Again, there’s so much there.

But, like always, you’ve had some time to reflect. So now let’s talk on Friday, November 8, 2024. Why am I here? Comedy comes in 3’s, right? But for real, Dad, I love you. Always.

That is number one. I love you, and you love me; nothing will ever change that. We’ve stood together through some rough times, remember. COVID, Day Job, my grandpa. Today and the next four years, well… I saw you through one minor apocalyptic event… I will stand with you through this, Dad, no matter what. Daddy, I’m here, always. Reminding you, number three, there is so much good in you. Forget the world. Father? Daddy?

Please let me see that good in you. ALWAYS AND FOREVER. A, B, C, Me

“Look! You’ve pushed me this far; now I’m pushing you the rest of the way! You know, back there in the woods, even when things looked really bad, I still believed we’d make it because you were too stubborn to quit! I’m not gonna make you quit. Not now. Not when we’re this close. Now, try again!” ― Homeward Bound.

1380 Days Without B III, Day 821 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 128 ~Son Of A B~

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Remember, Remember the 5th of November. I wish I could forget it. Hell! I don’t know what’s happening now. I’m avoiding X/Twitter, Instagram, and everywhere else. Reading about failing my son beats reading about failing my country. “Son Of A B.”

Wednesday, November 6, 2024

Meditation 128 ~Son Of A B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… What the Eff! Eff, Eff, Eff! “Eff you, eff you and eff you! Who’s next?” (Coming to America)

This Is America! And I am ashamed to call myself an American. That is if everything I have been seeing is right. Inspector Echo… I went to bed last night saying, “I don’t feel so good.” And this morning… Well, there have been tears. And that’s my crime for today.

Not one of them has been for my son Braxton. M Anime and Cherry texted and asked how I was feeling. I dared to say that this is reminiscent of my son’s passing. Can’t be

When I looked into Braxton’s eyes and said, “I’m sorry. I tried. I’ve done everything I can, but I can’t save you. Please forgive me!” Yesterday, I did my best, Inspector Echo. You know me. I’m an effing misanthrope! But I voted for the people who I believed would bring positive change. And now, I’m left wondering what will become of them and me, Inspector?

As I said, I did my best. But winners go home and eff the prom queen! Yasmina Khan, Jessie Rasberry, the Midnight Sleazy Train series and even Cherry’s melons… No prom queens. Though if I know MAGA and the dictator… excuse me, next president’s taste…

Inspector, that’s one more way I know this isn’t good. I had no desire when B was gone, and now? I feel sick to my stomach. I want to silence everything. And what I’m seeing…

SUCKS!!! Everything sucks! Does that include the book I’m reading? Like I said, Inspector, since I haven’t been “getting off…” No Nut November, Election News, and the nothingness I feel.

Jack McAfghan: Pawprints from Heaven: How to Communicate with Your Pets in the Afterlife. I was lost before I finally got it up to talk to you, Inspector. Any comfort?

Honestly, I don’t know. It’s kinda preachy. Kate McGahan’s dog, Jack, is preaching to her and all of us. But I can see Braxton saying some of this stuff as well. I am not a prophet or philosopher. Braxton is not the “Son of a Preacher Man.” But Braxton is trying… Faith, hope, and love

Inspector. Braxton was supposed to be my apocalypse partner. And we are on the verge.

Talk about “I saw the sign.” Or coincidence… It’s was the fifth of November. I’ve watched V for Vendetta reactions with Virgil/V. Waiting for what now. Son Of A B

1375 Days Without B III, Day 816 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 121 ~We’ll B Saving Virgil~

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To save Virgil, I would have never come back. I would have picked him up, put him down, and pet the dogs next time. I could have saved Braxton if I knocked a lot of people to the floor. Saving myself? I don’t have a cape. “We’ll B Saving Virgil”

Wednesday, October 30, 2024

Meditation 121 ~We’ll B Saving Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And no, I don’t mean waking up super late. It’s 8:20 AM. Or looking at… sending dirty pictures.

SINS, nevertheless. But not REALLY bad ones… Must I once again return to what I did to my son? Not a day goes by that I forget that Braxton’s gone. Have I not given everything!

The only answer, “More, more, more.” And so here lies Virgil, my “second-born” son, who is very much alive and well, Inspector Echo. A four-year-old.

I ask myself, does he get jealous. As I sit here at the edge of” the bed… “Ooh, it makes “me wonder.” What? About all my pop culture references. Because the voices in my head…

Inspector, it has been a mess for a few days. And when I say that, I mean around forty years’ worth. Give or take fifteen years. Anyway. It seems Virgil is pushing me away from Braxton’s “Shrine.” I’m no hero.

Far from it… This leads me to my fourth greatest sin this week… thus far. One is Braxton’s passing. The next is waking up. The third is continuing to fail Virgil. He went from “I Believe I Can Fly,’ And “Fly Like An Eagle” to “Dear Heaven.” The music, sigh.

And in case you are wondering why I’m not listening to Lofi Girl. Well, I get a day off, and instead of being productive… Uh, you and me are talking. I look up such depravity.

However, yesterday, I was headed to the Day Job. Outside this house, I saw a fur buddy walking alone in the dark. Why didn’t I save him? Why didn’t I even try? You know why…

The DAY JOB, Inspector. Working there has taken so much.

I can’t save myself from that place. The DAY JOB, short of my own two hands, took my son away from me. And here’s a third life that could have been lost because of my inaction. When I came back, I saw someone had found him and was trying to bring him home. But what about me, Inspector. I could have done something, anything. Inspector?

I don’t have to be some celebrity, fad, or influencer. Talk about “Hey Jealousy,” Inspector.

I don’t have to be a best-selling writer. my writing Inspector… It’s so much worse.

Worst is being a man of inaction. GOP politicians, specific photographers, a budding career in por… being an adult. Villainy, sickness, whatever. I dream, though. Someday. We’ll B Saving Virgil

1368 Days Without B III, Day 809 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 114 ~I’ll B Running Virgil~

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Did I outrun love or did B outrun me? God is Love… My Braxton is Love. He nearly made it to 16. Virgil is a quarter of the way there at 4. But what am I really running my mouth about today? Drowning in emotion or an energy shot. I’ll B Running Virgil

Wednesday, October 23, 2024

Meditation 114 ~I’ll B Running Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Like the MAGA hats, if I’m breathing, I’m lying. But instead of asking why. Let’s focus on how.

For the record, today is Saturday, October 19, 2024. (Record Scratch) “Yup, that’s me; you’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.” Honestly? I downed an energy shot and decided to clean up Braxton’s yard. Shouldn’t I go start calling it Virgil’s yard? He turned four on Sunday. What was I doing when Braxton was that age? Sigh…

That’s the thing, Inspector. It’s not why I was his father. His Dad, but how. Don’t worry, your pretty head; we’ll get to females in a minute. Braxton found me. Love is louder and faster. Did I ever tell you I wanted to run track in school, Inspector Echo? Running.

I wasn’t in school when he found me, but he kept up. I carried him. My little boy B III.

Well, when he grew older. I’m never going to stop missing him. And I’m never going to stop saying how much being forty sucks. Thirty-nine, thirty-eight, thirty-seven… All the way “Back at One.” Again, Girls, Girls, Girls, comes later. But a couple of hours ago, in the backyard, much like at the Day Job, I started having terrible thoughts. “My future? It’s coming on, it’s coming on, it’s coming on.” And that means failure, fewer dollars, and the magic word, Inspector. FEAR! I’m awake because I’m afraid of everything. Everyone!

Echo, it’s all of the time. Ask me to name a fear off the top of my head. Water. Drowning.

I say I’m going to overflow like Mamimi Samejima from FLCL. And here we go.

If I’m not sweating because of some phantasm in “my” nightmares. Catching some form of the plague. Or doing public works. Uh, cleaning up the yard for puppies or neighbors.

Then I’m up because of my… A private part of my anatomy. Not so private for $5.00 or $100 for “The Full Monty” face and all. Pumping my life away. However, I wonder if energy shots REALLY help me push myself forward or if it is The Placebo effect. The constant questioning and self-doubt are a part of me now.

Whatever it is, Inspector, it has me at the dining room table and not swimming in sheets upstairs. And I can’t swim. Not without some pretty chick with giant floaties. AKA nice Yabbos. But somehow, Braxton kept me on solid ground. I’ll B Running Virgil

1361 Days Without B III, Day 802 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 107 ~Braxton, Virgil, Dad’s BS~

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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