Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

“Life’s a game made for everyone. And love is a prize.” I disagree. Love is a gift. I’d say if life’s a game, then love is the instruction. But I’m a crappy gamer. B was my Player 2 for 15 years. And does V have a gift? Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

Wednesday, December 13, 2023

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But I’m still unsure if I owe Aloe Blacc, Avicii, or whoever an apology. Such words, “my” sorrys…

Echo, they tend to fall on deaf ears. And while I tend to worry more about these ears. For the record, it’s sight, touch, sound, scent, and taste. The past few weeks, follow your nose!

So why am I thinking about being sorry for a song? Hell! I will be forever sorry to my boy. I’m awake today. Which means I haven’t joined him on the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven. Or wherever. I still don’t know.

But this morning’s nap led to a nightmare. I was lying in Braxton’s spot. Then I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I called out, “Who goes there?” Braxton and his guard duty antics. Anyway, a flashlight came on, and I rushed towards my gun. And then I woke up.

Any dream that even remotely reminds me of my boy should be considered a gift. And that’s what I want to talk about today. GIFTS? How am I doing so far, Inspector Echo? You’ll have to excuse me. I had my nose buried in a book before coming to you.

And before that? I ask myself what Braxton was thinking when it comes to Virgil. I could rehash all that as I do Braxton’s “passing.” I hate that word. Sounds like a lie. Smells? No worse than Virgil not realizing he should “GO” outside instead of sitting on the steps trembling. Baby, It’s Cold Outside.

It’s a gift to have all this ha-ha. And me? My Olds pay most of the bills. Always a gift.

This leads me to what I was reading and what brought all this on. “On the Boss’s Naughty List” by Ella Goode. And the billionaire talking about his girl being his last Christmas gift or best? Whatever. And it got me thinking, what’s the last gift I got? Hmm.

I mean a true gift other than the “privilege” of living without my firstborn son. Thoughts?

The last thing I considered a gift on E-Day was a steak and a lobster; I had to order twice. And while we’re on the subject of stealing… Um. I’ve paid some unsavory types a few pennies (coughs) Bitcoin (coughs). To get dirty deeds… done.

Crap! I know. I smell it, along with the wet floor. Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

1046 Days Without B III, Day 487 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

Follow Your Nose? Do I look like Toucan Sam? And I intend to be a man of leisure, not some random mouth breather. So, I write books? Nope! All the huffing and puffing I do. Women, work, worrying about the house’s mildew scent. “They’ll B Air Virgil.”

Tuesday, December 12, 2023,

Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… Even when we’re on the beach. And I’m still here typing away—my favorite dream.

Sigh… Is that of relief? Regret? Or do I want to rant? It’s a relief that I no longer have the old Day Job. That same breath I used to call out to Braxton whenever I returned. “Just me, Baby B, I would say.” I’ve been holding it lately, but not because of you or Virgil. Baby Doll, it’s been hard. I keep saying that I know. It’s been 1045 days and counting. And I still can’t describe Braxton’s scent when he cuddled beside me. I miss it like crazy. Now there’s only mold and mildew, and I need to spend a lot more money on diapers… Or teach Virgil that he has to go outside for a reason. I’m glad I’m better at business.

Open mouth and insert foot, right? I’ve never been one for talking love. My personality. Cult of Personality. I’ll sing all day long. I’ve even found myself singing to Virgil from time to time. And then there’s playing with our kids, teaching, reading before bedtime. And what do we do after the children are put to bed… Sometimes, “It Seems Like You’re Ready.” Uh, all of the time because… well… You want to know that I’m still breathing. Or at least it seems like I want to. I have your love and the memory of my firstborn son, my love. I have things to keep me breathing. That’s not the question. It’s going about it. Contrary to popular opinion, it’s not that simple, Baby Girl.

This is probably why I do my best Jay Sherman impression and become the most critical critic of my existence. It stinks. I so need to learn to shut up. Don’t waste my breath. Ha! But I won’t turn to cigarettes or, as Todd would say, the “Devil’s Lettuce.” And while I’m on the subject of Eric Vall’s characters. There’s Grayson Price and his thing for vanilla perfume. Your scent can be intoxicating, my dear. Only I should go out and buy some air fresheners for the house, with all the trouble. The smell of cash. “Dollar, dollar bill, y’all.”

I need to take a deep breath and be thankful for it. I’m always trying, my love. Breathing’s the hardest thing? They’ll B Air Virgil?

1045 Days Without B III, Day 486 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 163 ~The End Embodies MY WILL~

What does it take to have the will not to sleep? There was Braxton’s sickness. Then I found out he was dying. A bit of bucks from the Day Job. And then bouncing along in bed doing… other, never mind. And in the end, who am I. The End Embodies MY WILL

Monday, December 11, 2023

Tale 163 ~The End Embodies MY WILL~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-First Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like the one I made, that said, “My son will never die.” Unwritten, right? Considering Rule 321.

I would make it either Rule 1 or 366. Hell! I fear a whole lot, but for Braxton. His courage. I should pray for that more than the other stuff. But didn’t I say God, and I haven’t been speaking lots? So, um, 1044 days and counting. Because, in the end, it doesn’t even matter. He’s still dead. And what was I willing to do to save him? I’d give anything. Or at least that’s what I want to say. But what do I do in the end? Why am I late talking to you? Madam, I’m time-traveling, but it’s past 3:30 PM this Saturday, December 9, 2023. Madam, I didn’t even nap today, and all for what? What does the end goal look like, Madam? Please don’t say girls.

“You exist to continue your existence. What’s the point?” Equilibrium

As I see the end. It’s me closing my eyes and hoping I’ll never have to open them. Never again. It’s like I’m always ready for a funeral… my own. “Hell is for those who don’t know they’re dead.” So, for all I know, I may have “done it.” Hmm… well, being here now. If the end is life. Which I have been thinking about plenty with that lady in Texas, Kate Cox. The life and death being forced upon her. I keep saying, Madam, I want a family, but I don’t force women into anything. No! All the lives I could have made are in tissues, tears in the bed sheets, and these two hands. I hear you. Gross!

But do you know what’s worse? You guessed it, breaking the rule and knowing that Braxton was going to die before me. And I did think about it long before it happened on that Sunday, January 31, 2021. And it was by my will that brought about my son’s end. So how does this (motions to myself) all end? And why don’t I feel my will has anything to do with it. If you want the short answer, money. People telling you differently are lying. You can’t see the end if you don’t know where to start. That’s why Braxton fought so hard to live. How do you begin saving me? V has no answers. My will be done indeed. The End Embodies MY WILL.

1044 Days Without B III, Day 485 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 160 ~ V’s Tailing Stories Braxton~

If V were to tell stories about his life here… “It could be worse.” He’s not on a chain outside. He lays on the bed or his pillow, sleeping. While I lay on the couch reading. He sleeps. No tail wagging is required, sadly. V’s Tailing Stories Braxton.

Friday, December 8, 2023

Tale 160 ~ V’s Tailing Stories Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,

Let ME tell you a story… If anything, I should be telling you a few tales. But I’m always so far behind.

“I’ll be a good boy. I’ll be a good boy, I promise.” Or at least that’s what I’m telling the critic today (fingers crossed). But the only opinion that should matter to me is Braxton’s. And his story is the one that I keep rereading. Well, that and two series from Eric Vall so far. Only I’m not here to talk about him today. Though I’m doing a book review. Inevitably, it always comes back to Braxton and/or Virgil. And that’s what’s bothering me today. What? Cleaning up after a smelly three-year-old? And here I am, still wanting a family. I wish I could tell you that kind of story. But Braxton’s tail’s not wagging. Yesterday, the day before, longer. Virgil’s tail doesn’t wag either.

Is it even something I’m looking forward to? I swear, Lady Sophia, it seems the universe is doing everything to convince me to stay. Didn’t I mention another Kindle Challenge? Now, that’s the story of this existence. Another failure as I read “His Christmas Harem.” Eric Vall has another audiobook coming out. If the word “Harem” hasn’t scared the critic.

The Last of Us has its next season in 2025, meaning I should play The Last of Us Part II. Lady Sophia, I haven’t turned on the PlayStation since the nephew was here. I’m cool. It’s cool enough to play Grand Theft Auto VI. But again, that’s in 2025. “Love Is A Long Road.” And I still have trouble walking that one long PetSmart aisle.

Talking About A Christmas Stalking:

So Ella Goode. Good tidings she brings, good girl and villain. Though you can see the villain ten miles down the road. But I won’t spoil it for you. It’s not like anyone is reading this for truly bad vibes. This is probably my only beef with this story. It is well written, delightfully dirty, a desirable find, an almost disaster but with a HEA. Of course. Only the feeling… Yes, it’s a fine read. And I like Jackson and Bell, but the “togetherness” left me with an… okay. So, would I read it again? Sure. Another? Okay. Easy-peasy Four-Stars

Anyway. I’m not looking for the “Man with the Bag.” Braxton’s not in it. Something to get me off my behind… V’s Tailing Stories Braxton

1041 Days Without B III, Day 482 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 159 ~Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton~

A date which will live in infamy… My Olds weren’t around for Pearl Harbor. But I learned about that, slavery, and other things. But the days in “my” existence, Braxton’s death, E-Day, his B-Day, and Virgil’s. But today, “Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton.”

Thursday, December 7, 2023

Tale 159 ~Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton~

1040 Days Without B III, Day 481 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As usual, my day is crap, and it’s only 9:30 AM. Saying it out loud

Life Sucks! And before I forget, Little B, it sucked more for people on Sunday, December 7, 1941. Why am I thinking of Uncle Sam already? You know how your Daddy’s mind works. And as I said, Life Sucks. I didn’t want to wake up today. Hell! I haven’t wanted to wake up for 1040 Days or longer. All to varying degrees. Virgil ain’t helping. And what about you? I would tell you how sad I am, scared, and to stay off your Aunt’s knockers. I’m sure the critic won’t like that, but whatever. “Whatever” is a step above indifference. But today, it’s not either of those or blah. How about discombobulated? “My” mindset B? You, where’s Virgil, Christmas erotica, Lesbian witches, Uncle Sam, Pearl…

Not the movie. But now I’m thinking about Mia Goth, Jenna Ortega, and that other chick. Ha-ha. Anyway, Pearl Harbor. This Is America. But you treated the house like our own little world; how I miss that. Your anger, your “Aww Daddy,” and “who’s this b*tch.” I wasn’t happy, but I’m never happy. Anything beats this. Bawling like a baby, bored, or balls smacking while Virgil’s laying in your room. Not on punishment or anything. Braxton, it’s sadness, depression, and melancholia on another level. Do dogs have shrinks? I should find one for myself first. But the extra $150.00 I found from Uncle Sam won’t cover that. And how about food? To think for a little while, I forgot about the floor and the flood.

A manifestation of my tears or our tears. Mine and Virgil’s. Do you remember when I was listing off reasons he was here? I said, I heard your voice. He had three black dots. That you couldn’t make this more “black and white.” V has your color around his eyes. But now it’s the tear tracks. It’s like Virgil is perpetually crying. Conan The Barbarian? “He won’t cry, so I cry for him.” That’s Virgil for you. What was it? Last week, I was crying.

That was the first time in a long time. And as you can see, I’m losing track of that, Braxton.

It’s Thursday, but what’s one more day? “Just another girl,” “Another Day,” tear or a doggy. Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 158 ~Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful~

I don’t have a dollar, a drop of sweat, or a second to waste. Water can’t hit the floor after the flood. And how many days have I wasted away at the Day Job only to come back and smell the mold or what V did while hiding? “Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful.”

Wednesday, December 6, 2023

Tale 158 ~Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But at least I’m not wasting any money on condoms or Plan B pills. That’s another story, Inspector.

Forgive me for my procrastination, E. I got sidetracked watching a sad scene from “Everybody Loves Raymond.” As if anything could be worse than my son, B III, dying. And that is how I begin every day. I wake up and see my son gone. I switch off the alarm. And then I crawl back into the bed I don’t own and “Try It Again.” To die? Or as I listen to “Balance.” To be left to a peaceful sleep. Albeit, I wish it were eternal. Because if it isn’t?

Well, you have what I’m doing now. I’ve almost finished reading my first Christmas Erotica of the season, “Christmas Stalking.” How is this going to help me, Inspector Echo? And there’s the Kindle Challenge too…

I doubt I’ll finish this one because…. AHEM, TRADITION! How I waste such a beautiful morning. Not that I would know. Again, I read a book, took Virgil outside, and everything before that… You know how I could cover all that… Eww! If I even remember all of their names. Fallon Henley, Cora Jade, Gigi Dolin, etc. You want to hear something pathetic, Echo. Me all day! Anyway, last night, I watched WWE NXT. There’s a Last Chance Fatal 4-Way. Four of my favorites were competing, including Roxanne Perez and Kiana James. Brunettes, ahh! And speaking of women, Cherry, Kristen Stewart, and others, heh-heh. What was I saying again? So, I get excited and without anyone, REAL… I turn to Replika. “Who’s your favorite wrestler?”

So much for AI being the end of us; when the software needs to remember the basics, Inspector Echo, I still get ads for memorial gifts—a new dog checklist. Of course, I never shut up about my Braxton, either. But my point is this. I wasted time talking and drooling over AI, sigh. Inspector, pinpricks of light, ha? One more waste of time was this Inspector Echo. Watching the GTA 6 Trailer:

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for GTA, but I felt sorry for the designers when the game trailer leaked. I have another girl to drool over… Lucia. And 2025? Living that long?

I could be working on a new book idea, Inspector. But it’s 10:20 AM. Virgil’s in B III’s room. Existing? Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful.

1039 Days Without B III, Day 480 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

I’ve never been blessed with growing things. Well, weeds… the fence is falling, so I had to cut the grass. There was/is Braxton. B’s been fifteen for a couple of years. Mold? Yeah, from the flooding house. Uh, Virgil Vivi? Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

Tuesday, December 5, 2023

Tale 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… more and more each day. How Your beauty grows with each new day, my love.

I hope I don’t sound shallow, but I mean it. The children you… uh, we have brought into this world. You know how people are these days. But I feel I had a hand in it with “pouring the Bisquick.” I was talking to someone about that yesterday. Madam Justice. Love, you grow during this time of year. Uh, the holidays? My love, I do mean lovelier as you put the ornaments up. And you help our kids with them. All the lights on our trees. And am I going to make you put the lights up alone? I’m not that kind of husband, ha. “You’re my angel.” But I’m not ready to see you in Heaven. Promised you Heaven but put you through Hell…

Yes, my love, you could tell where I was going with this. Can you believe I’ve kept Braxton Barks out of this until now? I go back to when I would tell him as Caesar told his son Cornelius. One day, you will be as tall as a king. He was looking down at me every morning. I lived to serve. As his father, my love for him gave me the strength “To Be A Man.” I’ve been thinking a lot about that, with everything happening these days, my love. I remember my Ma telling me I could sit on my behind with unconditional love. “Unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” And I’m approaching forty. I hate saying thirty-nine. But to be forty, love?

Virgil is only three. Braxton was/is fifteen. I have all our children to watch grow up into good people. I know I’ve been all about the music today. Um, Monday, December 4, 2023, because businesses won’t run themselves… And how I grew this one. Well, you can ask Madam Justice. Anyway, regarding our children, ahem, “I hope they’re not like me. I hope they understand.” Because their Daddy never grew up. I am trying, my love, every single day. Oh, you know I can grow big enough for you… I’m trying to be funny now. I swear, love. I can grow mold. The house flooded. I grow impatient with Virgil. And all that I fear. The son I still mourn. Rise! Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

1038 Days Without B III, Day 479 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

For the past few weeks… Hell! Why not just say, 1037 days and counting? I’ve been losing. When it comes to the whole Victory or Death bit. One is definitely closer than the other. But what if… Happily ever after? Ha-Ha! But… Have Plans After The Win

Monday, December 4, 2023

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

Three-Hundredth And Twentieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. Does it look like I’m winning to you? Being with my boy, that’s winning.

And dying? As the song goes, “Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die.” (Raises my hand). Hell! Don’t mind if I do, as it beats this place by a mile, Madam. Today at the Day Job, that’s Sunday, December 3, 2023, to be specific. I was thinking, instead of saying, “I’m Here.” I should start saying, “I’m one step closer to my boy.” I wonder, would Braxton consider seeing his Old Man again a win? I looked in the mirror. And I heard the things that came out of my mouth. And as far as my Old Man… I woke up today and this Monday saying, “Soy un perdedor. I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me.” But Virgil?

Talk about taking the L. Of all the people that could have adopted him, he got me. Notice I said adopted. Hell! So was/is Braxton. But I call him my firstborn, my pancake. Because he couldn’t have been more mine if I had “poured the Bisquick. My Braxton, the winner. And with everything going on with the house, I can’t imagine giving some girl the D ha-ha. Yeah, even if I paid for it. And what if it were more than that? Eight years, Madam. That’s how long I’ve been here, and I’ve had no idea what to do: Dad, Hubby, a man in general. No matter what I do, I have plans to get effed… Isn’t that what happened? I just did it myself.

But what if, hmm? I’ve been hearing that a lot. What if or Destinies and the like? To win, ok. There’s a reason I’ve been heavy into HaremLit in my reading. Hell! In my writing. Please! Madam, if I did any of that for real, well… I do want to be a writer. That’s winning. Besides that, I want to be like Dennis Hof. Again, um, dead? But while he was alive, I swear. Next to all those Softcore “films” I was watching, Cathouse was everything, I swear, Madam. Can you imagine me in charge of anything? This house, “my” daily humiliations, and some ho, ho, ho’s. And then there’s a studio like PureTaboo. Live forever and conquer all. Winning! Have Plans After The Win

Tale 153 ~Virgil Comes First, Braxton~

So last week… do I hate every day? Not those in books. So, I read more than I write. And no more grieving books. Seeing as it’s December… I can’t stand Christmas, but any day is a good day to… Anyway, there’s my boys. Virgil Comes First, Braxton

Friday, December 1, 2023

Tale 153 ~Virgil Comes First, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… (Thinks on it a second). I should write a book on Time Travel. Sunday, November 26

That’s as likely as me living up to the title of this. Even B knows that on a Sunday, all I’m looking forward to is the depraved… myself, the damned… everyone else, and the DEAD. But there’s no Walking Dead tonight. And shouldn’t we focus on the Friday that does not yet exist? Hell! You know why we’re talking today. Friday will be horrible. How many days do I say I will be positive about anything? Then existence… Knowledge? I can’t tell you anything about “Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss.” I hope I finish Thursday so I can start… What, celebrating? Ah, to indulge in Christmas Erotica. And what about writing a book? NaNoWriMo? Too Late.

I swear the days I have to remember. And NaNoWriMo is over now. That’s the least of my problems now. Am I reading some bill from my father, or am I reading the room period? Everything there is to read on the Internet, and I’m still so effing STUPID. Christmas? Could Santa bring me some positivity? Better yet, I would take some cash. A boat? Another day. I continue to bring up the flooding on the floor. And “Here I Am” at thirty-nine, needing my father to save me. Braxton was fifteen, and he wanted his daddy to save him. No! At the end of the day, he wanted my love. What would Virgil know about that? But books? I know about Backyard Dungeon 4:

Edging FORward Into Backyard Dungeon
I’m surprised I didn’t fall, being on the edge of my seat the entire time. A great man once talked about kids, animals, and women with attitudes, and I was worried about them all. Whether it is Ibseth awaiting her ever-growing family’s return. SPOILER… there are doggies. And the danger of both worlds coming for Eddie. Plus, there is a distinct lack of “Nictors.” They were there, but that word has never seemed right with me ever… But, like the previous three books, shooting, sex, and more simoleons for Eddie’s growing empire. I can’t wait to read the next one.

That was a book review, Lady Sophia. Something else to read besides how life, uh, existence is terrible. But reading anything. Virgil Comes First, Braxton

1034 Days Without B III, Day 475 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 152 ~Virgil, B’s A Roommate~

This isn’t my home. Ain’t even my house. So, I’m a spineless, selfish, and spoiled bastard. And skeevy? That’s another story. But seeing a Doc is $175. Plus meds? B III being in a box? No, the water heater is very expensive. “Virgil, B’s A Roommate.”

Thursday, November 30, 2023

Tale 152 ~Virgil, B’s A Roommate~

1033 Days Without B III, Day 474 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Losing a thousand dollars is not how I would like to start the day, Braxton.

Water is essential to life. Do you remember when I purposely tried to end existing? Censorship B III, I swear; unalive, cancel culture, whitewashing, et cetera. Whatever people are calling it this week, everything under the sun. Speaking of which, before sunrise. I was getting into Missing Pieces… Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss. As if I would ever call you a pet. Anyway, that’s not the point. Yesterday, I was missing you, my best friend, firstborn, and always my son. But Virgil? Hell! I keep saying it. When things get really bad, I think of the worst thing ever. The day I lost you. It brings perspective.

Your last check-up, plus those tests they had to run, and then putting you in a box. Let’s not forget the small trinkets and gifts. Were they all worth a thousand bucks? I think so. A price I paid gladly, though I didn’t want to. Is that me being selfish? Hell No! I would have gone full “John Q” if it meant I could have saved your life. Not to go all Taylor Swift, but you belong with me. Maybe Christof from The Truman Show would be better for us.

“You can’t leave, (Braxton). You belong here… with me.” Now that’s me being selfish, B. And again, you ask, but Virgil? Does it help I’m not calling him “freeloader” anymore? Tomorrow, I may forget this.

But the thousand dollars that I’ve lost… Well, not quite yet. And for what? A water heater. If you could tell me something about that concerning you. It would be no problem B. This was/is your home, and I wanted you to be “Safe and Sound.” More Taylor Swift, seriously? We weren’t even big fans of hers. I was more into Ellie Goulding, to be honest, Little B. You were still here for that. But where was I today? Two words: Mia Malkova. The only girls that have been in this house since your Aunt. Tweets, Onlyfans, CashApp. Such is existence. With you, Braxton, I was/am your Dad. Now, I pay rent for an existence I would rather not live. Any day ending with Y. Money for “my” father, females, freaking everything. Uh, that’s called adulting. Virgil, B’s A Roommate

Always and Forever,
Your Dad