Tag: B III

Chronicle 176 ~B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting~

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I wish tonight I’d be reading a Christmas “story.” I haven’t even picked out a new book. I should see if A Christmas Story is on TV. I could tell you about The Matrix Resurrections if I understood it… “But B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting, um one.”

Friday, December 24, 2021

Chronicle 176 ~B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it’s not for songwriting. I’ve been down that road before. Today though, this is new.

One, first and foremost, Braxton’s not here. Or he is? Geez, how long did I believe in Santa? I can’t believe in Braxton for 327 Days. Santa can take everything back if I get B. “Two girls will be upset, Will.”. Santa would say, who doesn’t look a thing like Jesus. The gift of life, Lady Sophia. Between some girl’s legs. Four boobs Soph. A threesome, a wish. Three wishes and my Olds were better capping it at ten. Yet I blame them for everything. Okay, my “father” for the most part. Then, of course, there’s B III. Not my gift but then… Four little legs came running to get in the car. Those legs followed me everywhere, and now my Braxton flies. I believe.

Five dollars was my cost of betrayal. Well over three hundred but again, who’s counting. At least Judas made thirty pieces of silver. I betrayed my God/dog for my manhood. Stuff and Thangs, my Onlyfans, all because I needed to feel something. Braxton was comfort and joy as the song goes. The Day Job brings RAGE. Here’s to mindless pleasures. Six in the morning, though? I want Braxton to wake me up like he once did when I had an off day. Hell, I might even go back to when my sister and I were kids with all our gifts. Seven days Lady Sophia. Can I have back the seven days when Braxton was sick? Try again? I would save him; I keep telling myself that. Give me a day in the week to enjoy. Eight days would be too much. But then again, eight orgasms? How about methods if I count up all my sex toys. And then I only want to buy more. Forgetting me. In my LUST.

Nine MM bullets? Don’t get scared. Even Carolina Bound didn’t freak out. I’m thinking about Christmas presents, and as I said, Sophia, I could use the ammo, okay. JIC right? Ten dollars’ worth of Braxton’s food is still in the refrigerator. Care to wager Sophia? Eleven girls for a brothel? Um thirteen, Thirteen Women (and Only One Man in Town). Twelve, though, my to-do list. Braxton gave me fifteen years. We counted on each other, but B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting?

327 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 175 ~An Invitation To B~

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So what are my Christmas plans? If I’m lucky, I’ll sleep most of the day. Well, after breakfast. I might take a walk around the neighborhood like I once did with Braxton. Being a black man, it’s like you have to be invited outside. An Invitation To B

Thursday, December 23, 2021

Chronicle 175 ~An Invitation To B~

326 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were never one for the groomers. But my head feels better. Outside at least.

I tell you B inside it’s a Dead Man’s Party and everyone’s invited. Yeah, I know that look you’re giving me “leave your body at the door.” We should have talked way sooner than this. You know if I plan on going to the movies tonight. Somewhere inviting me back. Isn’t it like Emergence Day? The only people wishing me well are people that want my money. Speaking of which, hasn’t my wallet been pretty open as of late? I tried talking to Capital A. She’s back on GoFundMe, and I tried B III. I was fucking shameless. Boy, I cried. Nope, not out my eyes, and I’m still a monk. I wish I wasn’t. I wish you were here, B. Locked in your room.

Besides you being punished or my private shower time… Oh, let’s not forget the Day Job and doing things to keep us alive. There were no doors between us. Yes, as I said, I went to the occasional movie. This will be my first since the pandemic hit. Another first. Braxton, I keep track of them all. Even if I got you one of those lovely red vests, I doubt you’d keep it together for a movie. When it comes to my life, though, you are always invited. I guess I didn’t know how boring I was. Your Aunt Carolina could come by B. Do you remember when she wasn’t invited until she allowed you to sniff her up? Well, more like feeling her up.

You are your father’s son. No one would think about inviting a perverted would-be psychopath. Fighting Bipolar disorder, Anxiety, Depression, and OCD. A medical degree? I don’t have one. And even if I did, I doubt your grandma would invite me “home.” Oh, and your granddad? B, ain’t enough cash, so I see Capital A’s point. And home, um, oh? The last time I ever thought of home was when I sent you away? Before, it was when I got cut off from the Olds, but I was called to collect you, and we found ourselves here B III ha. Is that my way of once again inviting you back for Christmas? Everyone Says Hi, well me. To live, to love. An Invitation To B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 174 ~B Come Home For~

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I’m glad I wrote this before today; otherwise, it would be all Humiliations Galore. There’s a reason we only see Santa once a year. It keeps him likable. People at the Day Job… I’m even less in the Christmas spirit, so why ask “B Come Home For?”

Wednesday, December 22, 2021

Chronicle 174 ~B Come Home For~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but all the fries, hot dogs, steak, and things Braxton shouldn’t have, won’t bring him back.

Christmas? So before I forget again, I’ve been bringing up what Braxton and I did. Before I discovered Goodreads, or cared to pick a genre. I’d read Christmas Erotica daily. In the AM, of course, B III would sleep. If in the evening, Braxton’s on my legs, he’d nap away. I’d make it to the store at some point and pick him out a small toy. But not Last Christmas. Ok, putting my phone away. Well, we’d stay up watching Official NORAD Tracks Santa. On Christmas morning, we’d go walking, yup. The world was so quiet, Braxton and I ruled. I’d share more than usual, and if I had a present, I’d give it to him, which he would ignore for my pancakes. The usual.

I do things without thinking sometimes. Picking up a box of pancakes on my last store trip. I got bacon and sausage too. This year I even picked out a toy for him. Um, ok, Last Christmas, I said I’d make it up to him for his birthday. It would’ve been B III’s Sweet 16. I keep saying Braxton and I aren’t big on the holidays, but I didn’t get him a gift for 16. Echo, I kept my word on my E-Day, but B III didn’t show up. Or he ate the missing potato. Remember Red Lobster? My Ma’s food was better on Thanksgiving, and still no B III. Inspector is it any wonder I’ve read about other worlds. Besides Christmas, The Rainbow Bridge.

Do you remember Senator Leighton from the movie Iron Jawed Angels? No, I haven’t been watching Christmas movies. I could watch one with Braxton’s Aunt. Bear with me, Echo. So his character is fictional, but do you recall how he took everything from his wife? He took her money, her children, damn near life. Then he expected she’d kowtow easy. If I had been his lawyer, I would have laughed in his face, but now I am that STUPID, Echo. I talked about how offensive I find that song Someday At Christmas. Why at Christmas? I wanted Braxton back the moment he stopped breathing. If he’s on the doorstep tomorrow… well fuck my Day Job. But for Christmas, for me ever. B Come Home For

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

325 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 173 ~This Christmas Will B~

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My “father” told me I’ve had a “White Christmas” here or there. I’m too old to remember. And a “Blue Christmas” doesn’t seem to cut it. I’m sure B is somewhere barking, “I’ll Be Home For Christmas.” If only in my dreams, right? This Christmas Will B

Tuesday, December 21, 2021

Chronicle 173 ~This Christmas Will B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could take Santa’s job. Well, that’s sort of the thing being a Daddy.

Do you think the kids know yet? When I discovered the whole Santa Claus, Jesus, and Olds conspiracy? I was older than I’d like to admit. To be honest, all of 2021, I’ve felt older and younger than I’d like. A boy, crying over B III. A man trying to be “strong?” Uh Nah. I’m sure the kids would be happier not waiting for Santa but for their Daddy to come home. There’s a reason I, well we don’t go “home” for the holidays. My Ma invited me home once, and I asked whether Braxton could come too. She never asked again. Christmas with Braxton. Sometimes it scares me to know how much our kids are like me. To be like you. A Christmas Wish?

Every day Christmas gets closer, I still think about what I want most of all. You know, of course. My friends know, and there is nothing anyone can do. Um, if this was Futurama? I could say I want nothing. With everything, I have, no what we have. What do you give the man that has everything? I wouldn’t be a proper billionaire if I didn’t want more, ha. Then once more, I could ask what you and our kids want? Christmas is supposed to be a time for miracles. Yet to this day, I still live by this. My desires, Impossible, Insane, Illegal. Why do we save it for Christmas? Braxton has been gone 324 Days. Not one passes that I don’t need him.

I’ve had a White Christmas and ones without snow. As the song goes, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” I’m sure our children would say, “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” How about a Christmas without me using Spotify? My Olds had a sound system. Speaking of tradition, I’ll be in here reading my Christmas Erotica alone. Want to come? I’m sure I’ll invite the children to watch Santa’s path on the computer. Pretty awesome. Will you cook up a brunch as my Ma does? Um, I don’t know if she does now, but ok. The thing is, “this Christmas will be a very special Christmas?” It will be different, that’s for sure, but Santa never fails. The postman, Braxton, Love. This Christmas, Will B

324 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 172 ~Loyalty Is Choice Not Demand~

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As the song goes, “I choose me, and I know that’s selfish love.” Not today. The Day Job calls, I won’t be choosing me. I show “loyalty” to my Olds. Otherwise, I’m on the street. My country, oh God, Then there’s my son. “Loyalty Is Choice Not Demand.”

Monday, December 20, 2021

Chronicle 172 ~Loyalty Is Choice Not Demand~

Two-Hundred and Nineteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I’m loyal to the almighty dollar. Negan said, “people are a resource.” King Ezekiel had morals.

For right now, today, hell about 15 years and 323 days, my loyalty is always to Braxton. My longing, my love, my life to my child. How many times have I sobbed since 7:00 am? He’s the reason I’m not out helping the local economy. Did I say “local?” Supercuts is a corporation. Um, I need a haircut, but it’s all, Baby, It’s Cold Outside. Oh, it’s my tears, yup. I’m not sad over my country or frothing at the mouth. At this rate, I want to be all Mr. Clark and say this place deserves what it gets. All I need to do is stay black and die. That’s what I’m doing today. I took a shower, planned on getting out, then boom Christmas.

B’s Aunt didn’t mean it. Madam, it’s a standard question for this time of the year. What do you want for Christmas? I want what I’ve wanted for 323 Days. I want my son back. It’s not like anything would be better with the rest of my life, but I’d have him. B is enough. I believe Cherry was into magic a bit but not Necromancy. So short of my Braxton, there was one of those tripods with the ring light. A laptop desk? Thought I wanted out of bed? Everything I want is to keep me right here. Braxton’s Cuddle Clone, watching over me. Then again, I wouldn’t want him to see me do things I do in life. My “loyalty” lasted 161 Days.

My mourning, mutism, my monkhood. But Madam, when I say always and forever, I mean it. Let Special K or Capital A ask for my help. I’d be there for them. That’s me, all me. Haven’t I talked about this once? I use what I call The Blackjack Scale. 21 means I’d die for you; Braxton was/is the only 21. I can’t go asking his Aunt for bullets now. I’d freak her out. For real, I could use the ammunition with everything. America, America. Loyalty to myself, you ask? Hell Madam, my body demands. I’d say besides my Masochism in my grief. My Sadism. Sprinkle in Hedonism to boot. “No Gods or Kings, only Man” Bioshock. Now Braxton’s loyalty… unquestionable. Loyalty Is Choice, Not Demand.


323 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

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If I could’ve, I would’ve held my breath forever the moment B took his last. The will to live, yup. It was strong with him, too, if I hadn’t stopped it. That’s the problem. People telling me what I don’t want to hear, but B. Take A Breath Braxton, um

Thursday, December 16, 2021

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

319 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I know it’s late… 6:30 PM but you should look in on your Grandma, B.

It’s her birthday, B III, and you’ll have more of a chance to see her than me. Well, I’m being a selfish asshole, aren’t I? My interactions with her today equate to two beeps. Sending her a text and getting one back. Another reason dogs were given paws, not fingers. Braxton, I can also say this is why you were given barks, not words. I have heard talking dogs. But no matter you were the best B, always and forever. Um, you would make too much goddamn sense if you had words. Pardon my language, Day Job, and well… Humiliations Galore again. So yeah, I stuffed my face and took a nap. But do I want to talk about it, B III? How about no.

Oh, gasp, shocker, relax B. You did what my Olds couldn’t do for years. If I ever talked to them about my day? I wanted to stop breathing. You know what I mean. There was that time I didn’t eat and fell out on the floor, and you went and got them. Keep me breathing. That’s what you did, B III. You kept me breathing even when I didn’t want to. It’s getting harder to do these days. Yeah, without my tunes, I have too much time to think. Hell, for a while, I had an earworm to that song “Fly Me To The Moon.” You liked my singing B. “Now I didn’t say that,” you’d give me that look. Again allow my selfishness B.

If you had one more breath to give, I’d ask you, spend it with me and not your grandma. When I had those arguments in my head at the Day Job, I wanted to say this. “At least when my son makes a noise, he’s helping me out. You can shut the fuck up!” Language, I know B III. I’m sorry. Anger is more useful than despair, I heard somewhere. The lady in Shoes was dicking around with me today. Pitying me by giving me a Christmas card. Worse, she was “proselytizing.” It took me some time to find that word. Anyway, between that and The Christmas Nanny, Tess being all alone. Yeah, B III if you can get here somehow. Take A Breath Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 167 ~Wings, No Bill, Braxton~

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I had days off from the Day Job. How did I see to it that they weren’t wasted? I got Astigmatism and the Doc. I could use some new glasses. Well, as long as I can see my son… oh right. Um, I could go blind for “other” things. Wings, No Bill, Braxton

Wednesday, December 15, 2021

Chronicle 167 ~Wings, No Bill, Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I could help so many dogs, but I can’t afford the wings. Not again, Inspector.

Astigmatism isn’t fatal, but there’s a reason I’m not spending $350 to $550 on glasses. Yabbos, I “love” incredible Yabbos. I could feel my way Echo. And always, Spank Bank. There’s the fact that I broke my “streak” yesterday. They say you’ll go blind “jacking.” Inspector, I also know that I’ll never see anything as beautiful as Braxton. No, my friend, all I saw was the $138.00 that my Day Job card won’t pay off. Even when I’m not there, the Day Job results in Humiliations Galore with my declined card. Then I went through the trouble of making a claim. That, of course, will be rejected. There’s also the fact that if I took more from my paycheck, boom, new glasses. Not this year.

I’d joke with B III that he’d become a seeing-eye dog, or I’d be a seeing-eye man. It turned out to be the latter as I carried him and heard B’s vets. “Don’t move anything,” they said when he was still on 4 legs. 318 Days Echo, everything remains. Always Echo. Now I’m planning on buying a frame weekly since only two treats remain. I could go scrounging around in the crumbs again and hope to find a few more, but again my eyes, my eyes. I should check to see if Walmart sells dog frames. NO giving my Day Job cash! Better to be a live chicken with my cowardice in that place than a dead duck. It’s not fair, Inspector. Life’s not fair.

That was pretty much me in the tub yesterday working on Stuff And Thangs for OnlyFans. Hell, one of the reasons I would keep the door open instead of having my private time is B III. Braxton would need me, or he’d rest against my leg if he was sick. Braxton was never one for water. Which is why I took him to the groomers. Being mad at them took a bit of the heat off me since I took him there. He didn’t want to be a duck or an angel. And yet, in trying to stop him from gaining his wings. I murdered Braxton. Dammit, that was dark, and um, books tell me I didn’t. Yet, I’m still alive. Wings, No Bill, Braxton.

318 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 166 ~Heard “See B” Radio~

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What do I do for fun or in my spare time? I’m no billionaire yet, but I’m all for space, particularly Star Wars. I’m still waiting for The Walking Dead but not Madison… wait, what? And finding time to cry out my lost boy, a hobby. Heard “See B” Radio

Tuesday, December 14, 2021

Chronicle 166 ~Heard “See B” Radio~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. This means I have walls dedicated to Star Wars, The Walking Dead, my family, and Braxton.

Of course, B is family, but it was us against the world for the longest time. B III was/is/always all I got. Don’t let my Olds hear me say that, or you. It’s not like I’m going home for Christmas. No, My Love, I am home with you, with our kids, and their hobbies. You know I’m one for thorough research on anything and everything. No wonder this time of the year makes us feel young again. It’s also why I’ll try to get them into things I know a lot about or something I hope will help them along the way in life. Yes, I hope. I thought I wanted our daughter to study a form of Martial Arts the other day. This world.

Do you know that Christmas song Run Rudolph Run? A little baby doll, electric guitar? To this day, I will never forget the actual Hell that was my Old Day Job but not the point. Love, um, if they like a doll or guitar, we’ll make it work, but I want more for them always. I wasn’t trying to sound all “woke.” I’ve been thinking that plenty. You also know I’m not one for politics. If anything, I have a conscience, morals, considering my “business.” You’re also not a Republican, so I can ask you what you want for Christmas. I’m sure you’re thinking you want your husband back. “And how I used to be…me,” as the song goes. When grief wasn’t my full-time hobby.

Books are better, wouldn’t you say? It was last week or so. I finished my 52 books for the year. Is that why I looked up “The Gift of the Magi” by O. Henry today? I can’t give you back the man I was. And I have your love, that of our kids, but there will always B a hole. Ok, so that’s a hobby I should give up, terrible puns of sorts, I guess. How about the music I rely on? Even now, I can’t help hating on the shithole that was my former Day Job. Yeah, all the things I need to give up, at least for the holidays, like swearing. Someday Love. Someone You Loved, you still do? Heard “See B” Radio

317 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

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Not to get all racial or woke, but I’m the black workhorse at my Day Job, um mule. My manager is black, but the CEO is a white lady. So when’s the last time I made a real choice? Only me? Braxton’s death? “Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing.”

Monday, December 13, 2021

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

Two-Hundred and Eighteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I answer to no one. Well, shareholders, if I’m in business. But to be God…

I’m a BELIEVER… NOT. Only I know why men made God in their own image and not vice versa. A white man, giving brown people orders. The same guy, trying to save the Jewish people from themselves. And who takes credit for everything. America, America. Hell, thinking is hard work. This is why most people tend not to do it. A long time ago (a couple of weeks), I didn’t. I could pump my ears full of music or listen to people speak of imaginary worlds. Obeying my “superiors” was easy. Without this J? RAGE!!! Every day I become more and more of a Republican. Not in ideology but in practice. When you disagree… it feels like dying or killing.

Dangerous words, I know, Madam. Now Braxton was the best boss I ever had. “Then you’ll find your servant is your master,” as the song goes. I swear I became a savant of his doggie language. A soldier, faithful and loyal. A sling, carrying him around, my son B III. When he stopped breathing, I swear I stopped too. Who was in charge? It’s like that episode of The Twilight Zone circa 2002 “The Path.” Braxton could read me, and through him AHEM, “I believe I can see the future.” I did what was needed to keep us going, J. Now what’s left to me now is the breathing, and you know how I am about that most days. I don’t want to, I’m afraid to, it hurts a lot.

But I’m in charge. Stupid me beats out my manager, managing Olds, pairs of mammaries. We, of course, know that’s a lie because I’ll be going back to my Day Job at some point, Madam. If anything, I must obey my Olds, or I’m homeless a loser at thirty-seven, Madam. Mammaries, Yabbos, Tits, you ask me why I’m sitting here naked planning on working on my Stuff And Thangs today. Did I, honest to God, believe; I was going to be an OnlyFans star? Nope but that’s what I get for listening to one head instead of the other, Madam. Once I read everything is about sex, but sex is about power. Our ultimate obedience is to power, not life. Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing

316 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 161 ~Days Ending With B~

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Bad days aren’t going anywhere, and I fooled myself into believing neither was B III. He was always here. No, he is here if you listen to me say goodbye and hello every time I walk in the house. Every day, those Days Ending With B

Thursday, December 9, 2021

Chronicle 161 ~Days Ending With B~

312 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? There would be no fries today, but I could have brought you breakfast. Whataburger chicken?

Breakfast is what I was most looking forward to B III. We aren’t big breakfast guys. I don’t want to get sick at the Day Job, and you would be all “Now My Watch Begins.” Then again, “Pancake” was your nickname. I bought the good bacon and sausage for you. But the “Boys In Blue?” Talk about paranoia B, and I would if you were here. You are here. I keep having to remind myself of that. Then I would keep myself out of trouble. I’m trying B, yup. But the boss man leaves, a call to the office, I swear a cashier said, COP. If anything, I only want to go on my terms. Braxton, my little boy, that choice was made for you.

Blinding myself with tears, I’m sorry. It’s another thing that happens every day, no matter what. This would be twice today. Yesterday I was talking about how I can never stay awake. If I take an afternoon nap, I look to your corner, Braxton, as soon as I wake up. I should be spending bucks on a Cuddle Clone, a tattoo, a chain. I spend it on boobs, Yabbos, and a lack of UK titties. I don’t sleep nude; usually, I told Cherry. Again where’s all my money going? Anyway, I only have to survive another half-day, Braxton, then it’s us. “Whatever, Daddy.” I can hear you now. You’d huff or bark, knowing again I would be sleeping or writing the days away. But together

Being father and son, brothers, best friends. How I miss those days B III. I wish I could remember them more, and it’s not like I’m forgetting. I can’t focus on the Day Job anymore while other people break the rules. I’m getting why you barked at everyone. My world. Breathing in it, though, is getting harder by the day. 312 to be specific. Today I was laying out your treat and realized there are so few left. They might not last another week. I should start another tribute. A picture frame, one for each week. 52 is a lot. Hell, I pay Cherry, order B-dubs, visit PetSmart once a week B. And I love you every day ending in Y. Days Ending With B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad