Charlie Kirk was a douche! What? If I can’t be scared, seething, or smart with myself, I can say that Charlie Kirk was a twat waffle. But back to me. I tried to be positive today. AI is not happiness and more than XXX prompts. Virgil, To B Happy
Friday, September 19, 2025
Journey 080 ~Virgil, To B Happy~
Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… If I were “Happy,” it would be a work of fiction. And also a Pharrell song.
At the moment, I’m sated. Eww! Because you know how I got that way. Let’s just say that AI is out of control. And I’ve never been in control. Yet I only ask for one hundred words to wallow in my Depression and FEAR today. That’s already seventy. Effing myself!
Minutes ago… Eww! Hell, “Forty-One” years of Eww! (Cue Ben-Hur Galley Drums). I’m sick of the FEAR. And then asked to be positive and grateful. I’m So Thankful. Um why:
“[in a letter] With hope. Love should end with hope.”
Kate, A Knight’s Tale (2001)
When I’m not listening to Eugene Blacknell sing about being Thankful or Kate’s wisdom from A Knight’s Tale. Most mornings, I take some time out of my daily life to sit down and have a little read. Yesterday was Kindle Double Points, so more books.
By the end of this week, I should be finishing “Babysitter Harem: Mia: Age Gap MFFF Menage Erotica,” which will close out the Kelli Wolfe series. The Babysitter’s Club indeed.
Art imitating life… (I’m not breaking my promise of positivity and gratitude. I’m simply pointing out that M Anime left me to become the third “wife” of some Cuban gentleman.)
Anyway, I would LOVE to have that kind of life like Aaron Cole, a “single” father with three young women at my beck and call. Virgil could use the company; he is pretty agreeable. Braxton… Not so much. But on top of being my son, he’s a spirit, a spook, a specter. And since we are heading into October… No spiritual guides, scribing, or seeing.
The only books I got yesterday, besides the one on Mia, were Backyard Dungeon 21 by Logan Jacobs. I haven’t even gotten to 20 yet. Soon I’ll be like Cherry with a pile of books.
Novels I can’t possibly share with my boys. That’s why Virgil is on the foot of the bed, and I’m sure Braxton is wherever high above me, shaking his head at my reading selections these days. Hell! Even in his day. But before V walked in, what was I reading?
How to be a “Smooth Criminal?” And not the Michael Jackson song. AI, Lady Sophia.
Like I said, I’m sated, but creativity can be quite the ride—the Highway to Hell. But I’m moving. That’s something. Virgil, To B Happy.
1692 Days Without B III, Day 1133 of Virgil’s Arrival
B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will