Saga 049 ~To B Ruled V~

It’s the fact that I didn’t want to read the latest paycheck? I finished listening to the Succubus Lord series and returned to The Gargoyle. The audiobook, not the year and half year old furbaby. It triggered me to remember the rules. “To B Ruled V.”

Friday, August 19, 2022

Saga 049 ~To B Ruled V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it still ain’t for writing a book. Or cleaning? For teaching old dogs new tricks.

Well more like teaching new dogs, old tricks, I keep saying it, Lady Sophia… Asking. Virgil lying against my leg. Is he my Braxton reincarnated? We’ll get to that, I hope. But I’ve been trying to remember rules for the past six days or 2:00 in the morning last night. I’m not sure I put them down in the first book I wrote for B. And not the second. Anyway, the rules. Number four, I can smell. Oh, this morning sucked. Don’t they all? Don’t crap in the house V. This was my fault after being up at 2:00 AM. Three is stealing isn’t necessary. Two is to answer when called. And one, of course, being (drumroll) ta-da, don’t bite the hand that feeds you.

The fact that Virgil’s not answering me. Virgil could be all “A Dog’s Purpose” Sophia. No, I won’t be going all “Braxton, Braxton, BRAXTON!” So why say B’s been reincarnated:

  1. Virgil’s former name was Archie. So B to A.
  2. Virgil has two brown patches, one by both eyes. How I loved Braxton’s eyes.
  3. Virgil is black and white; I swear I heard B say. It can’t be more black and white, Dad
  4. Virgil has three black patches from head to tail. Comedy comes in threes, right?
  5. Virgil had heartworms and survived as Braxton had a heart murmur, and he lived.
  6. Virgil has been hacking much like B III would.
  7. Virgil goes on paper. Shit, I put on paper

I do mean of the writing variety Lady Sophia. I am not so depraved… And I am sure I have forgotten a few more reasons to say Virgil is Braxton. Hell! If I went the other way, Lady Sophia… Why am I still calling out to Braxton when I let Virgil out? Defending B’s bed? I look at Virgil and see a big bill waiting to happen if he keeps his coughing fits. Damn! Must everything be about money these days for me? And if I did give Virgil back… it’s not like I’d get a refund. Again, this isn’t the first time or the last I’ll waste money. I finished listening to the Succubus Lord audiobooks again. And “MY” time? To B Ruled V

565 Days Without B III, Day 006 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 048 ~B’s Pillow, V’s Fight~

Last week I spoke of money. I need a new pillow, and even if it’s the same as the old one, it won’t be B’s or even V’s. A new bed, collar, bowls for food and water, toys. As for me? Pants to keep on when I’m stressed. B’s Pillow, V’s Fight.

Thursday, August 18, 2022

Saga 048 ~B’s Pillow, V’s Fight~

564 Days Without B III, Day 005 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Mine is just beginning, and I have so much to ponder. 99 Problems. But pillows.

Shall we start with the obvious… “What the Hell are you talking about? Who are you talking to?” Are you somewhere in Heaven, The Rainbow Bridge, or warm in Hell? Or are you lying right here next to me? I swear I keep coming up with more reasons for Virgil. Then again, if this is you beside me, he can’t walk up the stairs. I’m already so tired, B III. He hacks every time I try and touch him. Do you recall how I had to get your heart meds? And I did mention being exhausted. I have to watch Virgil, or you like a hawk around the house. I don’t have any trust at all. Which led to two problems yesterday and this morning.

And why I’m so mad. Last night V or you had an accident on your pillow. So I thought I’d try to wash it. And well, as you can see. My heart broke, and I cried over dinner, B III. Well, the stress got to me this morning. Between a girl in pink panties and a video game… FUCK! I’m back to day one when I was on Day 27. Your Dad’s quite pathetic. Did I mention I’m also broke? It’s M Anime’s birthday. Happy Birthday, M Anime! But you never met her B. If this is you beside me, you could meet her one day. If not, well, never. Yet I don’t think of her as your aunt. Talk about women and “dirty pillows.”

So we’ve had references from “The Truman Show” and now “Carrie.” V or you and I have yet to watch a movie together. It’s only been 5 days. Instead of crying or what I did this morning… Hell! I would have been better off shopping for pillows, but I’m looking. As always, I want to go back to bed. Which I did for a while. When I woke up, somebody needed a bathroom break. If anything, I need a break period from my Republican ideas. “Send him back, send him back!” I go back and forth. Only how could I do that to you if this is you? The pillow is trashed, and I’m hiding the bed. Laying down or fighting? B’s Pillow, V’s Fight.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 047 ~Language B To V~

I’d say, love you B, love you, Braxton, I instead say later V, later Virgil. I let Virgil out as I go to shake B III’s bottles and call to him. I go running when I hear Virgil cry, but I don’t know what for. Better than ignoring B… “Language B To V.”

Wednesday, August 17, 2022

Saga 047 ~Language B To V~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but a trillion would be better. But who am I to talk about money? Speaking finance…

I should be learning dog. Um, the idea of that brings tears to my eyes this AM, to be honest. I spoke Braxton Barks Bradford for 15 years. And now there is Virgil Vivi Bradford. Inspector is that the name I’m going with. And why does it have to start with a V. Didn’t I say if I brought a “daughter” home, I would stick with B’s? Beatrice Belle Bradford? Only I couldn’t do that for another “son.” Is “Virgil” Braxton reincarnated? Keeping the faith… Anyway, back to name calling. I’ve been looking up V names, and Vivi came to me. As in Vivi Ornitier from Final Fantasy IX. Other name contenders are the following:

  1. Vivi
  2. Vader
  3. Valor/Valiant
  4. Victor
  5. Voodoo

With all this thinking comes another confession. I’ve spent more on women than on Braxton or Virgil. I swear August is not the month for me. And it’s only going to get worse with Existence/Emergence E-Day coming soon. Add Gotcha Day, Inspector. So I spent $150.00 on Virgil. Then take the $290.00 on Amazon to buy birthday gifts. Am I an idiot? Hell! I wouldn’t be lonely for an hour on the dreaded E-Day for that type of cash. Like the song goes, “All I wanted was to see her naked.” Yeah, that’s not going to happen anytime soon. Ask MILF Dos or Cherry. And how many “free” subscriptions do I have on OnlyFans? Not that I can think of that with Virgil around now.

It’s only been four days. How long did it take me to learn about Braxton? Well, he had three other people, but Virgil only has me. “May God be with you all,” meaning us both. I’ve often said that I stopped talking to God after losing my son. Now I task my Virgil to see me through this Hell that I call existence. No pressure for the little guy, Inspector. Veni, Vidi, Vici, “I came; I saw; I conquered!” That might make an excellent name to be honest. But what do you think, Inspector? If anything, I’m getting ideas for a new book to write. Anything to avoid talking to Virgil, like learning his language. To explain all this to Braxton… Language B To V

“Try as I may, I don’t know these men… their music, their camaraderie– which is different from ours. I am placed in a position where, if l were a man of real strength… I might do a great deal. But I am afraid I shall show that I’m not of much account. I don’t want to stand in their way because of my own weakness.”

563 Days Without B III, Day 004 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 046 ~To B Single V~

This time last week, I never imagined I’d be in this position… In love? I can’t say that. Nor can I say I like the hacking every time I pick Virgil up. And I don’t know where we’re going to land since it’s only been three days. But, To B Single V, um

Tuesday, August 16, 2022

Saga 046 ~To B Single V~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now… well, depending on what state we’re living in. Then throw in kids, life? I’m not broke.

But no matter what I do, why do I still feel that way? It’s like having the old Day Job. Insult? Um yeah, so I apologize. That place was only eleven years of sheer Hell and is nothing like fatherhood. Yet both are still scary as fuck… pardon my French. One I chose, and the other filled me with regret. And how did I feel the day after? One, two, and we’re going on three. One, I check to make sure he’s still breathing. And the other, (sigh). When THEY talk about love, THEY say your heart stops, your knees get weak, and you must catch your breath. Falling in love? But my former Day Job versus what I do now. Do I miss it?

Being single, I mean? To be alone. Right now, I’ll tell you what I miss. Sleep! It’s been a while since I’ve listened to my motivations. But I recall what Eric Thomas said, um yeah. Some of you love sleep more than you love success. Sleep, success… never forgetting sex. Because I love you. And I would never give you up to be single again. No, nope, never, oh no. So I leaped at the Day Job. That was what I was supposed to do. Men love their families. And now, I have this furry little one I have let into the house because I like him? Is that it? Only three days ago, my heart, the Hell I’ve been through? What is happening, love?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ZQkWUaHLn8

How I’ve been afraid for the past 562 days that hardening my heart would result in me being single again. I lost my boy. I lost Braxton. Did you think I would go a day without saying his name? Never forget! You can see how tired I am carrying Virgil. Hell! How long did I carry Braxton? That’s what I was thinking last night as I carried Virgil downstairs. I am a man, my love. I had to be strong enough to carry myself out of this bed and to the Day Job for long. Growing stronger to carry you over the threshold. You carried lives into this world, love. I love you, and I would not trade a single second. Yet Virgil makes me wonder. To B Single V.

562 Days Without B III, Day 003 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 045 ~To Win Someone Must Fail~

Then I must lose have you not been watching. But of course, everyone loves a winner. And here I am in the “middle” of life, mourning the furry kid I had in my twenties. And now there’s the new guy. Is he winning or losing? “To Win Someone Must Fail.”

Monday, August 15, 2022

Saga 045 ~To Win Someone Must Fail~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but who might I have left broken-hearted? What little boy or some little girl? And my brain?

If anything, what about Braxton? I wonder how B feels about this. Even now, I keep hoping he is B reincarnated, and I make up reasons, one after the other, Madam to believe. “Such mad hope, but there it is,” as they in 300. Do I see more of Braxton in him or on him, “My” little Virgil? It’s only day 002 but do I feel like a winner? Virgil from a loving home? Because I feel sick now. I’m barely able to eat. I mean eight shrimp and a bag of gummy bears. I’m ready to spill my guts as we speak. I don’t feel good. Stomach flip-flops. Heartbroken once again, or was it my brain that made this decision? The winner, the loser…

I can’t imagine that Virgil is feeling like much of a winner. Madam, I said it’s only day 002. But he hacks up a storm whenever I pick him up and place him somewhere. He stops after a few minutes, but it’s scary. I’d know what to do if it were Braxton, but Virgil? Hell! He is what I get for my failure with B III. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but afraid. We’re both failures in our own right. Or should I say someone failed him, and now what am I supposed to do? I was sitting in the car Saturday thinking, myself a failure, and then I was sitting there with Virgil. I’m sitting in bed thinking about who I was Friday…

“You want to see a man? That’s a man.” I was winning, which is sad considering how I felt then. At least it was only me suffering, Somehow dragging Virgil into this. That’s no good. Well, the Rebeccas feel like winners. They found a dog a home. Do Virgil or I think that at this moment, Madam? If anything, we’re both scared out of our minds, and that’s no good. I’m sure my eyes are enjoying the waterworks. I haven’t cried this much since Braxton. PetSmart will be making some money too. My whole existence has been that of failure for others to win. And should I fail Virgil, what would that make me? No different than any other day. To Win, Someone Must Fail

561 Days Without B III, Day 002 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 042 ~How To B Broke~

I wonder how much one of my books would make? Delusions of grandeur, it seems, with the thought of millions. Hell! I’d settle for how much this week, around $670. What am I complaining about? The A/C works, and it was more to box up B. How To B Broke

Friday, August 12, 2022

Saga 042 ~How To B Broke~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if I stopped thinking about my boy, her boobs, or my balls.

Talk about titles for new books. But it wasn’t writing, my raison d’etre, that got me up this AM. As usual, it was the FEAR. And on day 558, Braxton’s not here saving me. Didn’t I write two whole books about this? I complain that I have Republican tendencies. But yes, I’m also a writer. I never edit. But I’m always moving on to the next book to write. Yet even now, as I talk to you, I have to look at the phone with dread. Reading that my “father” is on his way. As I said yesterday, I rather burn. The betrayal of my son should be cool enough, all ninth circle and all. A Dante story? Beats me being broke right now.

Or in an hour or so. Still, to my everlasting shame. I didn’t want to spend money on Braxton when he was here. Sure the dog food was a bit more, and hot dogs were hot dogs, right? What about a new water filter? I’m no doctor, but our kidneys clean us out? Oh, B’s; the shit that must have been in his system. I told him the price yesterday to figure out what was going on and what led to me putting him in a box. Yes, there was my indifference towards him those days. There was also my greediness, rage, such hatred. My Lady, I was broke in spirit and had nothing left for my son. I paid the price for his death.

This is what I cling to now after what I did yesterday. “THEY” wanted to charge me $500 for new specs, the car. Hell! What couch doesn’t cost more than $500 these days? Wow! Only I paid MILF Dos how much to see her naked? OnlyFans girls would hate me because, as Wheeler Walker Jr. puts it. “Hate the movies on the internet. I prefer the personal shit,” amen. I’ve seen my second BFF’s boobs. Then there was Cherry, or I tried. M Anime? Sophia, her B-Day is coming up. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have an ulterior motive for shopping. So between getting fucked and hoping to, that’s around $670. So with my Day Job FUCK! How To B Broke

558 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 041 ~Bills… B Ain’t One~

New A/C fix… God knows, but my father will be calling me today. Celebrating, helping, enticing a friend… $250 to $500. Um? Putting my best friend in a “doggie bag” $779.56. Not counting a can of dog food, two chains, and frames. “Bills… B Ain’t One.”

Thursday, August 11, 2022

Saga 041 ~Bills… B Ain’t One~

557 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I hate to tell you this, but my day starts with my son is dead.

Did God ever think that? Does it keep him/her/it up at night? Well, instead, in my case, it makes me drift off like a baby. I doubt I’d gotten any shuteye if it wasn’t that thought. Which explains why I’m dressed and sitting on the loveseat instead of naked in bed. Braxton, do you know the price on your handsome little head? From Jan 29 to Jan 31, 2021, it was $779.56. If it’s any consolation, most of those were tests and keeping you alive “Another Day.” God, I hate those words. But it’s been a while since I’ve felt this horrible. No offense to women. And trust me, we’ll get to that. But it’s that “time of the month” for me, B. August, September, “Gone Till November.” FUCK ME!

To which your granddad says, “my pleasure.” Only this isn’t his fault. Hell! He didn’t charge me anything with the water heater but the A/C. I’d instead burn. Beats Treachery. M Anime would say, “I rather not.” And yet I’m going to spend tons on her birthday, Braxton. Why’s that? (In Jeff Wright’s voice) “you know why!” I should masturbate. Usually, I wouldn’t say things like that out loud. Killing you was the ultimate; you’re in trouble, so go to your room. One of the reasons I kept my hand out of my pants before. 161 days you didn’t see that after you passed, but I’m sure you know me better these 557 days gone. I’m the one in trouble now, according to the paycheck.

Let this spur me on to writing greatness. Or so, that’s what you believed. When you would sit under the dining room table waiting for me to finish yet one more novel. I’m sorry, B. You know where I’ll be today. I’ve already wasted a decade of this existence. What’s one more year, right? Hurt, Humiliations Galore, and if I’m lucky, being human. Your human. One that’s been looking for a new drug, because if it ain’t your love, or jerking off. And I’m staying far away from the drawer you rest on. Still saving me B. I look elsewhere. Cheap painkillers? It does take the edge off Triple B. Less than Triple X, zeros, days, and missing you. The Price. Bills… B Ain’t One.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 040 ~That’ll B The Day~

When I call, as I have been for 556 days and my little boy comes running down the stairs, that’ll be the day. The day I die from seeing a ghost? How about being an author, an “adult film star,” or not always angry? Yeah, right, That’ll B The Day

Wednesday, August 10, 2022

Saga 040 ~That’ll B The Day~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but most of my brethren seem aggressive and adversarial. Assholes, for the most part. But Happy?

When was the last time I woke up like that? Hell! When was the last time I woke up and was glad to be alive? It wasn’t now. I woke up at 1:40 AM. I’ve fought the clock since. Ha! The last time I woke up healthy was January 11, 2022. What happened that afternoon… Now Happy and I parted ways, God knows when. But the last time I got out of bed with love… Well, Braxton was here. And since then, a day hasn’t gone by where I was glad to get out of bed. Ok, so that’s a lie but waking up with a real reason. If you took this moment right now. I’d get up to protect B. Now I’m being punished.

And that’s not only because my dick is hard. 161 days in mourning? Well, 20 so far since I stopped again. Not mourning but jerking. Cherry asked why. Addicted? Affectionate? Well, more the lack thereof. I don’t know if we ever talked about this before… What, my “Daddy Issues?” Oh! I have plenty of those but my issues, having a son of my own. Onlyfans? Yeah, that happened after B III’s death. I still don’t like to be touched. But having eyes on me, feeling some sort of warmth. To be who, what, even where I am in this existence. I even stopped talking to “Dirty Diana” to have talks with B III, Inspector. The day I give up sex like M Anime, though… Never!

That’ll be the day, like the one when it’s morning. And I’m not wishing I was dead? Such dangerous words, Inspector. The only reason I bothered getting dressed. There’s danger. And that’ll be the day I can stay naked all day or make more than eight bucks, showing off the “goods.” More like whenever I publish one of my books. And I’m at the table now. That’ll be the day. When I’m sitting here with “my” family. As I once sat with my little boy B. My father was here yesterday. The A/C is still busted. Anyway, with B III’s ashes around my throat and his picture. He says this. “You’re not ready for another dog?” He’s not ready for another son. That’ll B The Day

556 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 039 ~Where We’ll B Escaping~

Didn’t I speak last week about Treachery? I haven’t betrayed a woman, my crappy Day Job, or my country. What, I’m not a “Trumptard.” Anyway, today required making several moves, and not one of them is leading back to bed. Where We’ll Be Escaping

Tuesday, August 9, 2022

Saga 039 ~Where We’ll B Escaping~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I should be pretty good at escaping. An armory, bunker, tickets to non-extradition nations…

This week I’ve been reading, well… 21% of this book, “Until we Meet Again.” Of course, there’s a chapter talking about “escaping” grief. More so, the impossibility of doing such. Now to be clear, I don’t want to. Ok, It’s been 555 days since B III. Not long enough, love. Only I envy him. You can take that however you want. And It could be the fact that the A/C is all screwy. You know I prefer the heat to the cold any day. What I’ll have to do to fix it… Anyway, I woke up this morning, and as with most things, they tie back to my son. Braxton would be hiding under the bed because it would be cooler. In bed all day…

Well, as I said, B under it. But I’d like to stay in bed. I’m reminded of the Day Job, my “Dad,” and whatever the Devil has in store for me. But to escape with B, my son my dog. Nope! These days it’s always about my dick. And you’re asking me, well, what’s wrong with that? My desire, my delight, my darling? As the song goes, “but we’re not making love no more. We’re not even trying to change.” I know. It’s only me who’s changing. Or I did. I can’t anymore. There’s nowhere to go. There’s nowhere to be without my B. Hell! I have you, I want to croon out: “there’s nowhere on earth that I’d rather be than holding you tenderly.”

Music and me, such is my escape. And to keep it going … “If I lay here if I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world?” Because where is there to go, I’ll ask? I could get up and be the dad I want to be with our children. Work on making more. My business today is nothing like the Day Job. What gentlemen wouldn’t enjoy this life? Didn’t I finish writing a book? Only it’s no different than the one I’m reading. All about dead fur babies again. I don’t mean to be harsh, but that’s the thing. I might as well appreciate the heat. Because Treachery is one cold as ice sin. But, Where We’ll Be Escaping.

555 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

I had a Christian phase. Gone are the days I “believed” in men. And yet I bend the knee to my Dad, my dirtiness, and most of all, the Day Job. It was worth it to kneel and pat my son’s head. The little god he was. Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets.”

Monday, August 8, 2022

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. And I should continue to do whatever made me those billions, right? My boy B, Boobs, Books?

Not that I ever thought to make a profit off of B. So why have I written two novels about Braxton? Two unpublished stories, I’d say. I haven’t opened the second one since I “finished” it. I hate the idea that a picture is worth “1000 Words.” Need more pictures? Only that would have cost me time, now wouldn’t it, Madam? Fifteen years wasn’t enough? Oh, there’s the expense of it all. I keep going back to the value of cash more than my son. And then I talk this big game of how I would have died for him. But how much of my life did I give to him? My personal brand of heroin, my own “Personal Jesus.” I was “Losing My Religion.”

And I don’t blame the Yabbos for once. Hell! How much money have I saved in the past two weeks? What if we only count today? The investment I made so many years ago. No, not the publishing contract; we’ll get to that. But “The Big One,” to quote GTA V. My permanent slice of TLC “Tits, Lips, and Clits.” To a company that would play god to a certain extent. I haven’t put down my cash this week. Madam, I am weak, being honest. Because I’m no saint, no prophet. I am a sinner looking to make a profit. Isn’t that what today is all about? When you make the object of your devotion lesser than yourself, you can go, “Dollar dollar bill, y’all.”

So is that why I “worship” my Day Job like something out of ancient Egypt… king of kings, god of gods? I swear I have given everything to make some prophet rich. I know it. I sacrificed my firstborn son on the altar of that fucking job. Ignorance, insanity, inevitable. I’m spending what pittance I make not on my puppy but my playthings, pleasures, penis. What about my actual work? Rule #3 “Now The Work Can Begin,” but it never does. As the godhead that I would make myself out to be, does what, Madam? Sits naked in all his glory in bed, cursing the prophets that say this is the American Dream. Believing less in Braxton, Books, “Bitches, man.” Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets”

554 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will