Chronicle 188 ~Surprise, It’s A B~

Surprise, I’m still alive, but I’ve been saying that since I bought cheap sleeping pills. I can’t take aspirin anymore, but who knows. Does a liver recover? More concerned about my heart and wallet. Braxton was my constant. No Surprise, It’s A B

Wednesday, January 5, 2022

Chronicle 188 ~Surprise, It’s A B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but no, I don’t have a new best friend. Well, how do I know with Time-Travel?

I didn’t know I’d try “adulting” and pay my own way for once. I gave my Ma a 50 Echo. Um, Echo, that put me in a bad way with finances, so I could be starving this week, but no. Then I got reimbursed for my eye exam, so that’s $138.00 Inspector Echo. Hell, I didn’t know I would start this year pissing off another woman. Icky choice of words. Anyway, I saved $10.00 not having to pay Maitland Ward. Capital A had me in a bad way. I’m upset I won’t see Cherry in a particular light again. Making women happy Inspector Echo? You know that’s my thing, ha. And let’s not talk about the Basic Bitch. It is a New Year, right. Surprise!

I’m still alive as the song goes, but Braxton is not. After all the bangs, booms, and blasts from last night. Again I’m back in time; today is January 1, 2022. B III didn’t have a heart attack this time last year; he wasn’t hit with anything. Dear God, I looked it up for sure. Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~ I don’t want to read it. Then there’s the book I picked out today. Christmas is done, and I didn’t know where the Hell I was before, during, after Braxton. It was routine, and now as always, I’m a day late and a dollar short with his death. My first book this New Year, “My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do?” Surprise, Surprise!

Bucks, Babes, my Boy all coming and going this way and that. It’s like I’m always screaming at the TV, tell me something I don’t know. A moneyed white dude gets away with anything and everything again, inevitable. Enough past talk, future is coming on. Which, of course, is why I’m talking to you this Saturday, E. Day Job, Humiliations Galore. Besides getting reimbursed or my Ma stopping by, the future is always worse. That’s a sin I can report to you today. I knocked off speaking positivity into my life from my New Year’s Resolutions. Now that would be something if I could keep them. I’d settle for having a good day. In school, a D was acceptable. In life, Surprise, It’s A B.

Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~

339 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 187 ~Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye B~

It was only a kiss, yet I’d argue with B every morning. I know where his mouth has been. He didn’t seem to mind when I would kiss the top of his head. But he must have thought humans are weird. Well, kissing shuts humans up. “Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye B”

Tuesday, January 4, 2022

Chronicle 187 ~Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, well, more like we are. Only mouths are better for other things. A kiss, Baby Girl.

You know I am some kinda way about my Olds, but if I remember anything good. Well, it was the fact that they always kissed each other goodbye before departing. An idea I’m hoping to continue with you despite what’s going on with me. Right now, it’s B, My Love. A New Year’s Kiss. Excuse me for being crass, well no, because I know you instead like me this way. Anyway, if I’m going to be kissing something HAIRY. It would be the top of B’s head. That’s another first; I couldn’t do that this year and never again. Tomorrow? Baby Doll, I keep thinking that. Denial is not just a river in Egypt. 338 Days of him not sitting on my head, My Love.

Sure, you sitting on my face is great and all. As I said, it’s been a while, and you know your man. If I wanted to get in trouble with you, why don’t you ask if I remember our first kiss? Don’t ever want to experience our last kiss. Now Braxton’s… Sunday, January 31, 2021. My firstborn got me more than prepared for our children crawling all over us. Death by kisses “What A Heavenly Way To Die” My Love. A thousand sweet kisses, “I’ll Cover You,” and our family. Yeah, I know Spotify again, remembering days, fucking Day Job. As I said, there are such things we can do with our mouths. Singing, hell, I should try again before saying something STUPID. But B…

Looks like crying every day over B isn’t changing in this new year. When I had to talk to the vet. And I gave her permission. Talking to a woman, and that’s what I do. Asshole! Braxton saw me as such, or was I still only his Daddy who wouldn’t take him home. The man that was going to let the vet and her assistant do these things. Explain Daddy, right? All I could do was hold him and kiss the top of his furry little head. I love you, I’m sorry, goodbye? If a kiss is good for anything, it shuts me up. It stops us from thinking love. Ha thinking before like Gospel 187 ~Panic Does Not Serve You~. Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye B

338 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 186 ~Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens~

I heard that you ain’t no kind of man without land. I know “a man provides” for his family. I ain’t got much, but I offer what I have to artists, assholes, adult entertainers. Sometimes you have to cross the road. Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens.

Monday, January 3, 2022

Chronicle 186 ~Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-First Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I’m $11.00 richer than yesterday. I’m a different man from last year or not, you think?

For the record, it’s still December 31, 2021. Time-Travel Madam, more so now. I wonder, will I stop spending so much money on Yabbos, make my list? B would “say” the best legs, breasts, and thighs are found in a bucket of chicken. Church’s chicken? Something else for me to hype today besides a pornstar. No, I don’t mean that as an insult in any sense, J. Sex workers, starlets, the sensuality of women I’m quite the fan of. I don’t hedge, hem, and haw, hide that fact at all. So why do I feel I’ve been squished for now? Fuck I crossed the road today, and all I want to do is cross back, Madam. I wasn’t wrong; was I? Trust your first instinct.

That’s why THEY ask why the chicken crossed the road instead of saying the poor thing. Hell, Madam, I’m a poor thing (cough) $11.00 (cough). I’m not going back, dammit. Madam, I always do this, but okay here we go. You know Maitland Ward? Much like every other bit of adult entertainment, she made the budget. So like I was telling Lady Sophia, I’m hanging out on OnlyFans. She says Good Morning, so do I and she starts flirting. I ain’t got any money, so better to remain silent. That’s me being a squirrel, J. Anyway, she calls me out, asking how much longer I’ll last not supporting her. $11.00 a month… So I say I’m sorry and bye and unsubscribe. I crossed the road.

When you’re a coward, they call you a chicken. But they get to the other side, don’t they, despite everything, Madam? And God, I’ve been fried, well burned plenty, Madam. Squirrels, on the other hand, are only thinking about their nuts. Madam, I’m aware, chickens, roosters, whatever. What about Milana Vayntrub; could’ve been Squirrel Girl? B III, like his Daddy, is pretty obsessed with Yabbos, but at the end of the day… Are we eating? My boy’s courage at the end, and I’m upset about a girl? I decided and I should make more choices like it. The choices that put money in my pocket and don’t cater to me being disrespected. Man or a mouse, Squirrel or Chicken. Well, Squirrels Get Squished Not Chickens.

337 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 183 ~Today Could B Better~

Could today be better? Story of this life, my life… At least when I would come back, that B was my four-legged son who only saw one month of this terrible year. 2020 no 2021 was the worst year ever, and still, I have to believe. Today Could B Better

Friday, December 31, 2021

Chronicle 183 ~Today Could B Better~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what could make next year better… A Trillion? No! I want my best friend back.

So yes, today could be better, this whole damn year. The worse year of my life, and how dare I. At least I’m alive. Braxton is dead. What a way to end this year, huh, Lady Sophia? God, I don’t want to say “Another Day.” Woke up Late, Lost my clothes, still Lying in bed. Any day, I’m not at the Day Job. And I’m giving this whole writing thing a shot. Hell, I should be counting this as a good day. Oh, speaking of shots, looks like I’m not eligible for the booster yet against COVID-19. Who knows, I could get lucky today, Sophia. Consider this a good day to die? Dangerous words and hurtful. Let’s not even get into the Cherry disagreement yesterday.

Instead, Sophia, let’s talk about this year in general. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Because this isn’t slavery, Ray Garofalo, or the Holocaust, Texas. Living’s like South Park. The good, it was only Thursday; this art saying the things I have now, I once prayed for. I had a friend, a family for 15 years. Fucking almost saw Cherry and M Anime’s Yabbos. The bad is that it’s pretty sad; all I have to look forward to in life is telling girls to “Get Naked” like Limp Bizkit. Mankind’s most primal nature. If not that, then staying alive B. The ugly? Not how my son died. Me watching him and him watching me. It was my betrayal. The flesh has nothing on the soul.

Yet I look at my resolutions from 2020 to 2021. Again I am disgusted. What was number one on the list? I AM Seeing My Dæmon Through Another Year. That’s from Gospel 185 ~Here I Am, Will~. Thirteen Resolutions and only three completed. Braxton’s inevitable. Today’s plan if I’m not staring at the “Pictures on My Phone,” thank you, Wheeler Walker Jr. More like “I Touch Myself.” I should try to do something for Stuff And Thangs, you know, OnlyFans. The only fireworks that I allow. Anyway, Lady Sophia, Resolutions. Every day can be better than the last. I should make every breath mean something since Braxton no longer breathes. He’s here. I must believe. Otherwise, why am I still here? Today Could B Better.

334 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 182 ~Seeing You B Free~

I am not going to bury my son; my son is going to bury me. Only my firstborn is my dog. I knew the day would come, but for fifteen years, more like seven days as I watched my world end, and that was back at the start of the year. “Seeing You B Free.”

Thursday, December 30, 2021

Chronicle 182 ~Seeing You B Free~

333 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I haven’t looked up in a while. “Don’t Look Up” yeah seems I’m obsessed B.

Only I couldn’t figure it out until I talked to your Aunt today (Tuesday). You know why you and I are talking so early. The Day Job sucks, and we got to talking about that Braxton. Do you remember when the three of us would sit on the loveseat watching movies? Those were fantastic times. Well, after you jumped all over her and she shared dinner. Anyway, so your Aunt asked me this morning um afternoon? I was out of it after fucking up last night, and I hope you didn’t see that. I watched you enough with your toy Braxton. So, I wrote to Dear Future Wife today, and I said that it’s because of my indifference you left me here. All my fault.

I shared it with Aunt Carolina. She asked whether I believed that indifference killed you. B? Like the song um, “Son what you don’t understand, my words might never explain.” So, of course, I leave it to a film, “Don’t Look Up.” I’m a mix of Drs. Mindy and Oglethorpe. Um, there are so many places I can go with that. Imagine me a Doc. The last Doc you saw. Anyway, Mr. B, so like Randall, I know what I know, and still, I lost myself. I wish I could say it was to the fame and the sex. How long have we lived here, B? Have you seen any girls in the bedroom? B III, zero, but yeah, “I just want to go home.”

It’s because you were always here, my dude. But that brings me to Teddy, who had nowhere to go. He spent his final time with friends but no family; he had no one B III. He said they tried, you know. They saw the end, what became the inevitable Braxton. So, that brings me to you and the conversation I had with your Aunt. I knew the day was coming that I would be without you. And like all the other characters in “Don’t Look Up.” I didn’t pay any mind B. Anything with my pleasures, gratification, hedonism, oh yes. Even when it came to my hate, give me more. But to you, my very son, the one I love. Sigh Seeing You B Free

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 181 ~Time To B Humiliated~

When a guy goes without the ladies for so long… I remember what I bought; some years back on E-Day. What I can’t bring back; is my B or the guy I was before my Day Job, other dumb people, my Dad. But they all call sigh. Dear B, “Time To B Humiliated”

Wednesday, December 29, 2021

Chronicle 181 ~Time To B Humiliated~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and with that kind of money, there’s no such thing as Humiliations Galore. The Princess Bride?

But Inspector these days, I’m all about “Don’t Look Up.” Only I won’t be watching it again tonight. There’s no time. Inspector, how much have I wasted this Monday afternoon? Time Travel, of course. Hell, most of this life is spent daydreaming about the embarrassments to come. Yes, we will get into sex. But so far now, walking around nude is A-Ok. Yet I’m ashamed of the fact that I haven’t done anything to save myself today. Every day I’m sitting here is an insult to B III’s memory. I told Braxton that we’d have a life. Inspector, am I living? Is he? I have to believe he’s here, the books keep telling me. Well, not my current selection. Reading is a good thing, Inspector.

I’ll never believe that reading is a waste of time. But focusing on two things at the same damn time that aren’t Yabbos, Echo. My dick and the rich man that’s banging a hot elf. “Night Before.” I think about those 161 Days a mistake, in mourning, a type of mania without B here. How many times did I hope B would get in trouble or I could close the bathroom door? You want a confession, Inspector; I mean an honest confession? After 161 Days, I’m not sure how long I could go with a girl. Not tooting my own horn, but I WAS pretty good… in bed, of course. Or bad/naughty whatever. Anyway, when I gave up monk status… where’s my Stamina Training Unit?

Am I older, still fucked up, not the man I used to be? And never who I want to be. Not at the Day Job ever. How many ways will I be humiliated in my next shift? I’ve been complaining about money, but I rejected some more hours. Save my shame for the bed, thanks. The empty bed. I’d give up every girl if my boy and I could go right on living like always. My new “workstation” is coming soon, and there are plenty of bedroom ways for extra cash. I said I’d get the booster on New Year’s Day. And I can pick up condoms and, um, pills. Nothing brings back the dead. Who I was before Humiliations Galore. Time To B Humiliated

332 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 180 ~A Year To B~

15, B would have been 16. I made it to 37, and I’ll be 38, 39, 40, oh no? The eighties suck, and people talk a lot about 2020, but 2021 was the worst year of my life. How I survived without my boy. And do you see any family around here? “A Year To B”

Tuesday, December 28, 2021

Chronicle 180 ~A Year To B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what else is there to look forward to? My indifference is what got Braxton killed.

The man that has everything but his best friend… As long as Braxton’s been gone and as long as we’ve been together. “Oh, baby, I love you, just leave me the fuck alone,” as the song plays. Which you did, considering what time I woke up this morning. Fucking up? Baby Doll, I know I am, even worse than the plague year. I went back over Gospel 177 ~It’s Christmas, Willie B~ last year at Christmas. To think we could survive the pandemic but this? This year has been the worse of my entire life. Beating out the eighties, wow. Baby girl, of course, that has nothing to do with you. You’ve been here, but as for me. Hell, I’m still stuck in seven days.

A year to a dog is seven years, or so THEY guess. How many years does that make 331 Days? You know I suck at Math, Music, Making Love? When’s the last time Baby Doll? It’s four days until the new year, and I don’t know where to begin. I’ll be 38. That’s next E-Day. Will I see Braxton’s Aunt before the new year? I say I’m a billionaire, however… Yeah, I can’t hear B III. You’ve been trying, screaming, crying, you love me. Besides “Don’t Look Up,” there have been soundtracks. Just Look Up, Memento Mori, Fourth of July. Ironic, the Fourth of July, the noise. And the same will be heard for new year’s. Will you still be here for me, My Love?

I wouldn’t blame you. I’ve told you the tale of how I was planning on taking my own life years ago. I say planning because I was only starving myself. Braxton saved my life, and I knew he needed me, so I would always say, I’ll be back. Fucking Terminator. Anyway, I made you the same promise, Always and Forever. With all the family that turned their backs on me, why would I ever want to be them? Yet this whole year with Braxton being gone. Sunday, January 31, 2021. It’s been all him. Come the first, I have no resolutions as yet. I’m not going anywhere, neither is B, but how about you. A year of beginnings, books, baby, brats, A Year To B.

331 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 179 ~Sun, Moon, Starlit Sky, Her~

“Just look up.” Maybe I’ll go a classic “just look over your shoulders, honey.” Now “Willow” was a classic. The guy fell in love with the chick as quickly as I did being a father to my son. Love at first sight for a… girl. Sun, Moon, Starlit Sky, Her

Monday, December 27, 2021

Chronicle 179 ~Sun, Moon, Starlit Sky, Her~

Two-Hundred and Twentieth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. This means I must believe like Philippe Weis, Rotti Largo, and Peter Isherwell. All about the “Benjamins.”

Yet when I made this rule, I was in a much different place. Without Love? Of a woman, why yes, unless you count my Ma, Braxton’s Aunt, and M Anime. But the love I desire… That’s the thing, Madam. While there is a twinge, a beat, a breath, I don’t think about having A Groovy Kind of Love. Hell, I didn’t appreciate the love staring me in the face, J. I looked up can a dog be a soulmate. Well, I rose because of Braxton. And he was ready as soon as the sun shined. He was my light in the darkness, and our moods were the moon and the tides. Every wish made, all my prayers, and B seeing me now. Just Look Up.

Or “Don’t Look Up.” I saw it again last night. Like it, not looking to love it. It’s too true. No, let me look down at my wallet and all the money I’m losing. You know what else glows, J? GOLD!!! When you want wisdom as much as air, Gold as much as Vanilla Tits. For the record, in my last dream, it was all about Jill Marie Jones, AKA Toni Childs from “Girlfriends.” Anyway, I can’t keep my eyes or my hands off my dick. Must I be crude? You should read some of my novels, Madam. I’m surprised I haven’t burned my eyes out of my head from the glowing screen. Anything to not look up like some damn Republican. The world’s burning.

But a pretty girl can do as much damage as any comet. I can’t say I have a good history with that. I told Cherry once that men would die to see her. And you remember ole girl… something with a D? I was begging to see Capital A. Why Madam must I see, dammit? Braxton was right there, Madam. He still is and will be always and forever. As I’ve said, B started at my feet. Then he sat in my lap. Soon he was like another rib. Higher still to protect him with my heart. My shoulder, my head, now Heaven… Tell me where to find a girl with such love. Higher? B, My Boy, He’s My Son. Sun, Moon, Starlit Sky, Her?

330 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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

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~

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