Gospel 189 ~Don’t Count On Will~

Being a black man in America, I’m not a statistic… I got up early, six instead of ten, you can thank my furbaby for that. The stimulus came through yesterday but besides my kid, my day job, and car people where’s the money going? Don’t Count On Will.

Wednesday, January 6, 2021

Gospel 189 ~Don’t Count On Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which must mean I hate you. Well, I don’t think that way about you, Inspector Echo, or any of the other girls. Okay, so the Man in the Mirror, but as I’ve been saying ad nauseam, it’s a New Year. I’m working on myself… I’m trying.
The thing is, I’m asking myself, am I too late? If it isn’t the money, then it’s been my age these days. I’m 36, and if I were to tell you all the things I haven’t done, even this morning. As the song goes, “Time, time, time. See what’s become of me.” Money, Age, Time…

I could wrap that all around my favorite subject in the whole wide world. Well, after my Dæmon, of course. Looks like my Imp’s going to get that vet appointment anyway. Geez, right after I got my stimulus payment. Republican Idiocracy tendencies, “I Like Money.”

Okay, so my favorite subject, I swear I have missed out on so much. When it comes to… well, how do I say this and remain a nice guy? Again I support artists and, in the same breath, thieves. Even with the motherlode of “artwork,” I’ve I miss out on galleries, gathering, and grabbing up all I can. Do you remember after the last Pinterest Suspension/Purge, I was upset about a specific board I lost? I found a few pieces of it the other day but not the whole thing. I would say I find nothing more annoying but that would make me a liar. It’s like finding the perfect “movie” and not being able to download it. How about what happened to such and such a website? What about being so anxious for something and then having it snatched away with fear? Mine… hers?

“A half-read book is a half-finished love affair.’” Cloud Atlas

I feel like Nicolas Cage/Yuri Orlov; I’m always five minutes too early or five minutes late. Being black, I was taught to be early always. As for being a man, I was taught “nice guys finish last” (12 Days, fingers crossed). I’m forever a day late, a dollar short, that is if I want something. I hate being late for the Day Job. Now I love my Dæmon like pancakes, but I got out of bed not by “force of will” but because my son needed me, meds, cleaning, potty.

Hate has my number, but love… Don’t Count On Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 021 ~Will Knows His Writes~

I don’t think I offended anybody tonight or more like this morning. That is unless Cherry or a few other ladies suddenly take an interest in Camp NaNoWriMo. Still, I clocked my 5000 words, counting this. Will Knows His Writes

Wednesday, July 22, 2020

Gospel 021 ~Will Knows His Writes~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I am also becoming a night owl. How mad was I last night that I had zoned out? No real sleep, and by the time I realized I had been in some sort of fog, it was daylight already. My Dæmon was so confused, and what’s keeping me up, hmm?

For two nights straight, I have been working on “For A Fine, Cherry Spread.” 5000 words a day Inspector Echo, that’s what I promised myself, especially with the Day Job. Next week is going to be Hell, but let’s focus on this one. How about only tonight or this morning to be sure. Eric Thomas says something to the tune of AHEM, we don’t sleep when tired, we sleep when done. By the time we have our chat, I expect to see daylight again. I do all of this for a story that I’ll never publish, that pisses me off and punishes me. I told you it cost me my friendship with Cherry. Last night while procrastinating, I noticed I lost another friend. At least I haven’t been thinking much about MILF Dos lately. I’m into my fourth week of NO FAP (24 days, 7 hr, 1 min. 32 sec).

I would say this is a benefit, but again what’s it all for? So that I can lie to Camp NaNoWriMo? I lied about those days I clocked in 100 words because I wanted my badges. Tonight I told them I wrote 4600 words. Yes, I did Inspector Echo, but I only had 4000 before midnight, so I added 600, which explains why I’m late talking to you. I have to catch up. On Thursday, which it is now, I should have 37,099 words. As it stands, I have 33,400. Nobody would know or care if I gave up or cheated through creation. Only like Inky Johnson, I can’t cheat. I just admitted to doing that? 100 words, no writing. Writing 600 more past midnight?

I walked out on the Day Job this week, so I won’t be working for or writing a paycheck next week. Inspector Echo, that’s not my story. Sometime this afternoon, I got jealous of Eric Vall. He’s on “Succubus Lord 16” on top of everything else he’s written, but I know my lane, don’t I?

I’m sorry, but I’m writing regardless. Will Knows His Writes.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 014 ~Will’s Tiff With Tifa~

Wednesday, July 15, 2020

Gospel 014 ~Will’s Tiff With Tifa~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford to be all Hoity-Toity. My grandmother told me pride was my sin though we’ve discussed this before. Here’s My Big Three Inspector Echo, Lust, Anger, and Sloth. Already I’m off-topic because I want to talk about Tifa Lockhart duh. So forgive me, Inspector, getting carried away.

Now, as has been the plot of my life story these past few weeks AHEM years… I’m Yabba Dabba Doo for Yabbos. I watched some of Malibu’s Most Wanted, don’t be hatin’. Anyway, Tifa reminds me of a girl, no a woman, well a MILF I once knew. SIGH, seeing as how I can’t see the MILF anymore, I’ve spent plenty of my money on Tifa’s Yabbos. I swear with everything going on with NO FAP (15 days, 17 hr, 50 min, 45 sec). Inspector Echo I have been tempted this MILF and Cherry $500.00 to see their Yabbos. How do I mitigate this coming disaster? How much “ART” have I bought? I’m still staring at Tifa’s Mature Dress on Amazon. I’m thinking about signing up for Momokun’s OnlyFans. Because I can pretend her Yabbos are Cherry’s. I’ve even looked up for the record English BBW tits (pardon my French).

Secondly, you know I’m not one for charity. I don’t understand why the low should give to the lowest. It’s nothing wrong with it, but the high and mighty have everything. With a mere snap of their fingers and/or wallets, they could bring utopia. Put your dollars where your mouth is, right? I give to the following groups, those that support stray dogs and cats and people with pets. The other being girls that… say it with me, Show Me Their Yabbos and everything else.

Lastly, what about money for myself? I’m not starving. I have thousands, not close to ten, but I get by. However, I get mad that I’m walking around in $9.00 shoes to walk My Dæmon. My $20.00 boots are for work. I sleep so much because I don’t eat so well as I won’t spend the cash, which brings me right back to Tifa. I told you I still want her dress, the shoes, damn I have a whole closet full of Submissive Wear. Now only if I were Emeric Marceaux with Ivory, or had a Rainey Summer Day hmm.

Sorry, I’m falling for Tifa Lockhart. Will’s Tiff With Tifa.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 007 ~Will Makes It Click~

The first conversation with Inspector Echo of the new year and already I require confession. Well, at least I’m not stealing. I was going to pay Liz Vicious, Cherry, and someone else, but Yabbos are everywhere. Will Makes It Click.

Wednesday, July 8, 2020

Gospel 007 ~Will Makes It Click~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should own a piece of fine art. My apologies that I still don’t. I mean like any normal heterosexual “teenage” male (What’s My Age Again?). Anyway, I have posters of girls in lingerie. I have a piece from Tony Taka of some Asian beauty with saké. For years I have loved the painting of Fuu, Backwards Beauty from Samurai Champloo. I spoke, of course, about the Tifa Lockhart photo in her Mature Dress. My point is I appreciate the female form, there is nothing more beautiful Inspector Echo.

I’m going Day Nine of NO FAP, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come to breaking. I swear Inspector Echo, I’m trying. If anything, I’m guilty of lying to NaNoWriMo to the tune of two hundred plus words. Hell, I haven’t been working on my novel. This is Lady Sophia’s wheelhouse, but it is also a sin, thus in need of some confession. The next chapter is called “The Aviary, Angel, And Ass,” and it’s Cherry’s sexual past with Father Bridgman. Most nights, I get too damn horny to write, and since I’m trying to avoid MILF Dos and Cherry (snickers). I usually dive into Tifa Lockhart, Aerith Gainsborough, and recently Jessie Rasberry. One more woman I can blame for my downfall or uplifting into the world of the arts. Don’t I like most erotic writers… women?

People don’t whip it out at the Mona Lisa, do they? Yes, Inspector Echo, I’m still keeping my pants on. Now I could become obsessed like I was with Sean Weathers for a time. The movies he was making while cheaply done were something to see. Artists I have discovered:

  1. Nagoonimation
  2. Niisath (Jill Valentine)
  3. JARED999D (Wild Suzi’s Uncontrollable Lust)
  4. Sciamano240 (20.06 PACK)
  5. Fluff Pokémon (Patreon)

Also, some others share videos on several “dubious” sites and, of course, as the song goes AHEM… Girls, Girls, Girls. Do I need to look up the definition of ART? I’m no art connoisseur. As I said, I still have the posters, but my walls are bare here. I will support almost any cause if you put a pair of puppies in front of it if you know what I mean.

I apologize that my fingers are busy, as Shelby (Girlfriend Reviews) says, “Beeping and Booping.” I’m Dee, Dee, Dee, for Yabbos. Will Makes It Click.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 301 ~Live The Villain, Heroes Die~

Whose side did I take, Captain America vs. Iron Man? And no, I’m not one for T’Challa as I liked Killmonger sitting on the throne of the Wakandan Empire. There’s always the thought of Deadshot and Harley (Homer drool). “Live The Villain, Heroes Die.”

Monday, April 27, 2020

Log 301 ~Live The Villain, Heroes Die~

Hundred And Thirty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I didn’t do that being nice. Don’t get me wrong, Madam Justice, compared to most “I’m all right,” a point if you get the Firefly reference. While I’m on the subject of Firefly and Serenity, do you want to know the definition of a hero? Someone who gets others killed. One more reason I like villains because I don’t abide liars. Okay, so I’ll lie to save my behind, but I prefer not to put myself in such situations. I hate being the victim, playing the hero, but to live the villain, hell, I’m a writer.

Three reasons why I don’t write heroes. Number one again, I don’t like lying. I write fiction, but I don’t lie. It’s like the difference between the songs “I Wanna Love You” and “I Wanna F*ck You.” One four-letter word, but how many times must I say words matter. The second reason is I had an epiphany. I wrote nicely about women for a very long time, and where did that get me? I watched other guys drop some girls’ panties. Yet my words were considered stalkerish. Some were ignored altogether. What has netted me the most attention? Finally, I thought it was tough living up to the heroes. To have such stories told forever, to know constant stress. I’m not a hero Madam Justice because I’m stronger. I picked the path that puts me against the world. When I have (human) kids of my own, I don’t want them following me. I want them to greet the world, With Arms Wide Open, thanks Creed.

I should also thank Todd Michaels because all of a sudden, I want to read “Begging For It” again. Besides wanting my children to have a better example like Rabbit for a father. What about Dolly for a Mother? If you’ve read Sick Fux, you have my attention. Anyway, I have to live long enough to have a woman of my own, which means just that, living. As I said, heroes get stories and songs. Only the good die young, no good deed and the like. Last night I dreamt about Ozymandias, and of course, I don’t know his whole story. If anything, though, I wrote once “Lesson 050 A Comedian Died Today.” I’m not a comedian, a victim, or someone who saves, I’m Me.

Live The Villain, Heroes Die

I Will Have No Fear

Log 294 ~One’s Art Is Another’s Disgust~

What am I trying to express other than an obsession with adult entertainment? I should be finished writing my book sometime this week, then editing… and I’ll file it away with all my “other” titles. One’s Art Is Another’s Disgust.

Monday, April 20, 2020

Log 294 ~One’s Art Is Another’s Disgust~

Hundred And Thirty-Third Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that’s great. If anything, like the song, goes, “Hire eight bodyguards that love to beat up assholes.” Except those “people” would be a lot of pretty girls. No, I’m not one of those “incel” losers, and I hate how I always end up sounding like Trump having to explain what I mean. SIGH first and foremost, women are the most beautiful creatures on the planet Earth. Okay, next to My Dæmon, of course. Everything I want and do in my life comes back to that, women.

So last night, I was talking about The Eve of a Cherry,” my novel. If you knew how many days I’ve spent first on the novella and then expanding it. I keep saying I can’t let anyone read it. It won’t make money, so why bother. It feeds my rank soul. What good is it, though. I don’t have the writing chops of S. Wolf, Todd Michaels, definitely not Skye Warren or Tillie Cole. Right now, I’m thinking more of Lily White, who wrote The Five and The Director. We’re talking snuff films “ravishment” fantasies, sex for drugs, and everything in-between. That stuff gets to me Madam Justice, it makes me feel alive. I can’t watch comedy for the sake of STUPIDITY. No toilet humor. Anything with mistaken identity or twins… well, that isn’t adult entertainment, but the funny stuff turns me off, without fail.

“THEY” talk about beauty being in the eye of the beholder, but I refuse to be blind. For a few weeks now, I’ve been arguing with myself over the idea of “Doublethink,” you know, from 1984. My kid is the perfect example of that, he can be a demonic little asshat, but I love him like pancakes, always and forever. I would fight anyone, though, that says anything wrong about him. Look, everyone is entitled to their opinion. Still, it’s the concept that everything I find amazing is looked at as putrid, perverted, or petrifying. One more reason I put women in everything. Only here I am nearing the end of my story, and as Jigsaw would put it, there will be blood. The Coronavirus (COVID-19) is running rampant, and I’m upset that there are no zombies. People are willing to die for some “beautiful” world I can’t see. Our American Dreams, my such art, One’s Art Is Another’s Disgust.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 278 ~Something Beautiful To Spare~

Destroying all that’s beautiful seems a messed up lot in life, which is why some take so much for themselves and the rest of us, a diamond in the rough, a lily amongst the thorns, “loving can hurt sometimes.” “Something Beautiful To Spare.”

Thursday, March 29, 2018

Lesson 278 ~Something Beautiful To Spare~


Come In Dirty Diana,
I Am Not Fine Today, but I can see everything now, for I have never been one for beer goggles, and I’m out of anything that gets me high, but I will accept I’m superficial, okay let’s say downright shallow. My drug of choice is sex, but I need the premium, the highest quality, I need that rush; some will say a life’s worth of porn will do that, but I prefer more than “The Missionary Position,” something inside me always has demanded more, awe-inspiring dominance.

I’ve been thinking about “Slaves To Passion” a lot lately and how Kaoru begins to use his former master’s wife and daughter to create art and after a great “sacrifice” he creates a grand work of art but then has to go home to his sexually frustrating wife. He loves her, but he cannot dare to do a quarter of the things he did to other women, he tries, and it doesn’t work for either of them sadly. I also mentioned yesterday “The Screwfly Solution” where sexual longing becomes transformed into a violent rage, where a man would take a woman to his bed instead well, don’t be beautiful ever.

My point is women I don’t find attractive could be lucky or unlucky, the reason this is unfortunate is that I want nothing more than to end it quickly, to fight, to be mad, but fortunate because I don’t drag it out, at least not with them. When a beautiful woman gets me riled up though, that anger, rage, that fire, becomes ravishing and that is what I dream… what to be beautiful, instead to “unleash the beast” but not precisely in a Purge sort of way. An enemy has but one purpose, to know destruction but a rose that cuts you, a puppy that bites you, a story that warps you can be pruned and grown, should know to submit and must be trained, can be polished and made into a masterpiece, the master himself is better as well.

I am the monster Dirty Diana, but the Beast sought to hurt those who threatened Belle, but he did not “eat” Belle, he locked her in his castle, commanded her, but during gave her a library and a wardrobe, he cared for her. He may have frightened her; he may hurt her as a man because this is what men do. Only by the beauty, she carried inside, and yes she was sexy outside. He knew healing; the beast was made handsome, he changes dramatically.

An ugly woman outside is one thing, ugly inside, I can hate but I take no pleasure, beautiful within *sigh* is my loss, but give me a woman beautiful both inside and out; I only ask Something Beautiful To Spare.

I Will Have No Fear

Wright Height

Clearing my head but men dream of many great things I believe, well one and all other thoughts just sort of circle around that during the day. “Wright Height”, I wanted to be a pilot once upon a time, I wished.

And who was the first man to believe?
Was it he who ran the numbers
or those who became art lovers
who painted forbidden fruit on the trees,
until it was so conceived?
Maybe the Wright brothers,
to the man that pilots the space shuttle.
that Autumn leaves

left much to be desired
The dreams of boys to men
Going where no one has ever been
How much higher,
cause no one told me about her,
making me wish I was a little bit taller…

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.