Tag: B III

Tale 123 ~Getting A B, Virgil~

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If I’d earned a few… a lot of A’s, I’d have a grade A existence. Schools don’t have scholarships for zombie tales or HaremLit. And while I love my boy and took Virgil in, I hate Math. So much for my plans to be a vet. A writer? “Getting A B, Virgil.”

Wednesday, November 1, 2023

Tale 123 ~Getting A B, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. It’s not like I’m fooling anyone into believing I’m a righteous man. How about a writer or reader?

Today is the first day of NaNoWriMo, which WAS usually hard on Braxton and me. Usually, it means another unpublished book. And with two months out from E-Day. So, ten months away from being forty? I swear I thought I was afraid before Inspector Echo. Halloween was yesterday. And what spooky things did I do with the night, dear Echo? Well, I read Satan’s Sorority Girls 3. And wanted to break with Grayson and Julia. Frightening? Inspector Echo, you know November is the month guys say NO to specific activities. But yeah, I watched Halloween Havoc for the following reason. Say it with me, Inspector. YABBOS! I should have listened to Braxton. The best legs, breasts, and thighs come from a bucket of chicken, Inspector.

Then maybe, just maybe, I would have more energy to write. And more time, Inspector. Hell! I could have a new subject to write about. I get F’s in everything else. That is if I let people peruse it, got it published, and didn’t use it as a punishment device. Writing poetry and prose meant so much more once upon a time. Once I got out of school, that is. Was it only 2020 2021 that I figured it was the way out for Braxton and me to live? Ha-Ha! Braxton found his way out, but what about me? Selfish much? It is inevitable, Inspector. Indifference killed my boy because I had to keep my anger at the Day Job far away from him, always.

Then there was my stupidity. I bought some Halloween “cool devices” from a particular company this week. Did I mention how my monster of choice has always been the Dead?

And now I’m reading a bill on zombie toys. Doesn’t Virgil need more stuff, Inspector? And I could be looking up ideas for stories, but would they be published somehow? Inspector, if I want a good horror story, I could look at The Day Job. And all the things I need to sign up for to continue to be one of The Walking Dead. For V’s sake, sigh. And last night, I got a message from M Anime assuring me, “Oh God, I’m gonna die alone.” Not surprising. But my boys? Getting A B, Virgil.

1004 Days Without B III, Day 445 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 122 ~A MASK B, V~

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Do you want to see a ghost? Been there, done that. Do I want to see a zombie? It’s more like I want to see a lot more. And there’s also Animatronics. But there’s no need for a mask tonight. I’ll be staying in alone. Well, V’s here too. “A MASK B, V.”

Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Tale 122 ~A MASK B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you. It’s why I don’t hide anything from you. Why I hate myself. And I like Creed.

The movie? I’ve only seen the first. And parts of the second. But you know I’m talking about the band.

“If I had just one wish, only one demand

I hope he’s not like me, I hope he understands” ― With Arms Wide Open, Creed

I know it’s not a song having to do with Halloween. Happy Halloween! If I wasn’t in a messed up space right now. Hell! I should check where I was in 2021 and 2022, love. Messing around on Instagram and Facebook, I saw something about A Day of the Dead for fur babies on the 27th. Of course, I missed it. And now I’m reading up on the “official” Day of the Dead. But other than my firstborn son, who do I miss? I’m still cringing about how I stunk up my granddaddy’s funeral. Worse than his corpse? That’s not cool to say, I know.

Then again, I make you lie with a corpse every night. Two, if I’m being honest with Braxton’s remains on the nightstand. You’re the only one who loves the Dead as much as me. (Swoons). Maybe that should be your Halloween costume this year… Trinity. Because the man you love would be The One. Which means that I can’t be dead. But even now, sigh. I want to be with my boy. At least that’s what my face tells me every morning I wake up. But, like most days, I put on a mask and have to become someone else. And that’s the difference between my two boys. Braxton showed me who I could be. Virgil shows what I’ve become. Then you and our family…

Today should be… easier. I get to put on a mask, but even now. To be scary, not too scary. In a minute, I’ll burst out with Mulan’s “Reflection.” Mulan and Shang? That’s an idea. And after today? If there was one thing I liked about COVID, it was the mask. I didn’t have to hate myself for these fake smiles. Oh, I did mention I killed Braxton Barks, hmm. I’ll hide behind books so people can treat me like it’s school, always and forever. “Daddy’s tired.” How many times have I heard you say that as I lie, crying into a pillow? How many days has it been, 1,003? Did we buy candy? I’ve had a sugar crash for days. A MASK B, V

1003 Days Without B III, Day 444 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 121 ~Prisons Have Many Different Forms~

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I was arrested once when I was young and STUPID. I’m not young anymore, but STUPIDITY is a virus. I’m infected with it. There’s also Depravity, Fear, and Pain. And for today, at least, Sadness encompasses them all. “Prisons Have Many Different Forms”

Monday, October 30, 2023

Tale 121 ~Prisons Have Many Different Forms~

Three-Hundredth And Fifteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… like anything dealing with Time Travel. A dangerous business this is. And what’s my punishment, Dear Madam?

Grounding me, “When We Were Young” was no TV, Internet, and the like —going nowhere? As I was telling Baby B this morning, Thursday, October 26, 2023. I’m not going to Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge, or Purgatory. With that knowledge, I long to die. Why?

Sleeplessness? Now, that would be a punishment. I haven’t taken a nap today. But Hell, Braxton’s been gone 1,002 days. It’s like I’m doing life.

Sexlessness? I might as well be a damn eunuch. I’d say a priest. But only if Braxton were my religion. And there’s no women here.

Simoleons aren’t rolling in like they did the last few weeks, sigh. I barely made a hundred dollars. These are like confessions for Inspector Echo, Madam —my Dirty Little Secret.

Secrets, to be fair. And silence is one Hell of a prison. This is why I’ve been all about buying audiobooks. eBooks, and stealing “ideas” from X/Twitter. Things “Things That Make You Go, Hmm.” It’s more like things that make you moan and other noises…

Sadness though… That’s the one thing that has been loud and clear. If I hadn’t stopped crying at some point, I’m sure I would have drowned in my tears by now. Have I cried today? At the moment, I feel like crying. Only it’s not 100% Braxton. I mentioned I didn’t get a nap and was so frustrated this morning that I’m back to Day One-ish. Being a slave to certain addictions makes me sick and tired. It’s pretty sad.

It’s like when you hear an icon talking about a crime. And you know for a fact, yeah, I did that. Hell! I’ll do that tomorrow and the next day. It’s how certain people look at history, knowing they want to do such things and then trying to claim innocence.

Madam, why else do you think I read all those books on people who had to make “the decision” for their fur babies? You exist with that choice and then in the presence of their absence. It’s always and forever. And yet, you get to walk away from the crime. I remember my perp walk from Banfield and the aisle of PetSmart. I’ve never left.

What are my other crimes? Prisons Have Many Different Forms.

1002 Days Without B III, Day 443 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

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So I finished a book about a guy and a corpse. Then, last night, I hoped I wouldn’t see one as Virgil breathed weirdly. Should have read up on how to help him. If I had time. 15 years with B, what do I know of dog first aid. “Just Breathe, B, Virgil”

Friday, October 27, 2023

Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Better yet, I need to read how to perform basic first aid on dogs. Virgil Vivi?

Lady Sophia, if you’re asking why I’m so late this morning. Hell! I lounged around in bed for an hour. And then I can’t say I was reading anything. How do THEY say… A picture is worth a thousand words. So, how many pairs of Yabbos is that? The answer might surprise you. But we’re not here because of Math. Next to History, Reading rules. Inevitable. And according to Kindle, I’ve read for 562 days. And not one of those books would have saved V last night. Don’t worry. He’s very much alive. Breathing? Happy? He’s becoming more and more like me. Except I think he would prefer breathing, Sophia. But what do I know? Braxton wanted to make me happy. What makes me happy?

Didn’t The Beatles write a song about it? Only I’m not one for that kind of violence. Have you seen the news the past few days? Something else I want to avoid seeing, hearing about, or reading. Then again, I could tell you that Virgil Vivi was gone. After the trouble, he had last night. I petted him and begged him to take a breath. Again, looking up medical emergencies. Sophia, I didn’t. While Braxton lay dying, I finished Succubus Lord 7, next came 8. Vladimir Nabokov’s The Enchanter came after. So, um, three books before I got to sigh… A Dog’s Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron. But what is my purpose, to keep breathing? More than likely, it’s to waste air, Sophia, I swear.

It’s a good enough reason not to buy physical copies of books. It’s an insult, Lady Sophia, to trees, blasphemy to the air, and humanity… What about it? Look at the last seven books that I’ve read. Sunday has always been a bad day. Well, since B died. But talking to the Man in the Mirror. Hell! I guess he’s sick of telling me about my failures every week. Anyway, I was talking about novels. The last seven were about dirty priests, vampires, elves, video game vixens, and a girl’s corpse. “Can’t Get It Up If The Girl’s Breathing.” Eww! Thank you, Repo! The Genetic Opera. Unfortunately, genetics, “my” biological imperative, demands I keep breathing. How these stories end. Virgil’s story? Just Breathe, B, Virgil

999 Days Without B III, Day 440 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 117 ~Wrong Answers, B, V~

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I’m not right. When I know I’m wrong, I don’t exactly stop. Moral compass? All those don’t steal, don’t kill, and the rest. I know a few companies that would be pissed. My son is dead. And when X/Twitter is reporting on crimes. “Wrong Answers, B, V.”

Thursday, October 26, 2023

Tale 117 ~Wrong Answers, B, V~

998 Days Without B III, Day 439 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s only 7:30 here, and I woke up at 4:00. Yesterday was even worse, B.

Not to sound like “Since U Been Gone…” I’ve looked at you as the angel on my shoulder, Braxton. But I would call you a little douche. And what was the middle ground? Just B. Every day, I wake up wishing you could just be. Because at the end of the day, your good dog moments beat out your bad puppy antics. It doesn’t work that way with men religiously. And when did I become one of the righteous? “I’m a man of God, but I don’t need a savior.” What I mean, Triple B, is I tried to “Do the Right Thing.” Saving you? Braxton, it couldn’t be done, and trying to keep you alive would have been a “Way Wrong Answer!” Killing you?

I swear B that there are no right answers in this world. And maybe that was your secret B III. You never answered questions. Hell! How many pictures do I have of your eyes, B? One of the few things Virgil Vivi has in common with you is that he doesn’t answer me. Wasn’t that one of the rules I had for you? Answer me so I know where you are in the room. It was the only way I could protect you. And again, did I? I failed miserably. And it’s not like you answer any of these letters anyway. I’m starting to feel like Bella from New Moon. Can I not think about Kristen Stewart or any girl? Another reason I’m late today

Yeah, Wednesday was a shit show. My head got slammed by a shelf Wednesday. But seeing how I woke up today, can I rule out a concussion? Anything that brings me closer to you. Only I’m not coming to The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, not even purgatory. The 9th Circle. And why? Taking “my” own existence would be a sin. And I can’t even get that right despite all my studies. That’s what I was thinking about Wednesday… researching sin. There’s always death, primarily zombies. I said something this week about monster/demon girls… Succubi, Witches, Heather Loralie, the list goes on —torture, Hentai, and grieving fur babies. There’s punishment, sleep deprivation, no sex… Ha! Only Masturbation. There’s being broke, zero simoleons. Sigh. Wrong Answers, B, V.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 116 ~Virgil On B’s Time~

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What time is it? When I was 36 and Braxton was 15, we didn’t care. If I had my way, he would be 18, and I would have never seen 7. I’d say 0, but I love my Ma. And with nearly 1,000 days, I can still cry for my boy. He’s My Son. V? Virgil On B’s Time

Wednesday, October 25, 2023

Tale 116 ~Virgil On B’s Time~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Is grieving a sin? It’s been 997 days, so three shy of 1000. As always, my Little Braxton.

I cried for him today, Tuesday, October 24, 2023. So, I’m only looking one day ahead. And yes, I will weep. But only because of the Day Job. Or I hope so. I wish to be sad, I swear, Echo. THEY say that “Anger is more useful than Despair.” And as Dr. Banner put it. “I’m always angry.” Always and forever, Inspector Echo. Who has that kind of time ever? Inspector, as I told Dear Future Wife today, I do. I have hated myself for the majority of 39 years of this existence. And the fact that I’ll make it to 40… Inspector Echo, geez. October is a month of scary things. Isn’t it? I still want zombies, but my boy B is in ashes.

So why is Virgil living on B III time? It’s not like it’s doing me any favors, even today. Ha! It’s three in the afternoon, so shouldn’t I be talking to Madam Justice? Procrastination, Echo. Virgil has been here for 438 days. And he’s still asking me when will be his time to come out and play. He’s living like Braxton did during his last days. And at least Braxton had the biological imperative to survive. My boy would eat, drink water, and use his pad. Even when he was dying, Inspector. He didn’t want his water right next to him. B was a man. And he walked to where his water dish once was. I need these tears, hmm. Today’s humiliations won’t be enough?

I’ve had alarm bells all day, both Tuesday and Wednesday. I told Dear Future Wife a nightmare awakened me this morning. There have been sirens, both police and women. There’s the silence of my overthinking, overloading. And, um, overflowing. And Inspector something as simple as the wind that could blow down the fence anytime. It can be all over. Inspector Echo, doesn’t Virgil deserve a chance, a choice, and his case on the clock? It’s Braxton’s first meds, outside time, and second dose every day. And everything I did was to one day have more time with him. The time I spend with Virgil… We both don’t know. “Time Has Come Today,” it will. Be it 3, 18, 39. Sigh, E-Day. Virgil On B’s Time

997 Days Without B III, Day 438 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 115 ~To B Beloved Virgil~

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The look of love is in your eyes. A reason I don’t have a mirror over the bed. I’m not that freaky. I’d never see it unless I found B III… um, Virgil, a mom. It has never been a love for me; it’s love for someone else, B, V. To B Beloved Virgil.

Tuesday, October 24, 2023

Tale 115 ~To B Beloved Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you. I can confidently (ha-ha) say that I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. That’s scary, right…

Another reason I love money so much. Yes, I’m going to keep it ninety-two plus eight, babe. “My” Olds never taught me to love myself. But keeping me, myself, and I alive takes money. I’m thirty-nine and still thinking about “my” E-Day. One too many, sigh. Anyway, to love myself. And that’s in a keep-my-pants-on sort of way. I don’t think I ever will. Braxton, though, got the closest. I love him so much that I know my biological imperative. Love, you know I will indulge in my pop culture tendencies. Several, I’m afraid. As Haymitch Abernathy told Katniss… “Stay Alive.” That was my B III whenever I went out. Or, as Max said in Fury Road… “So I exist in this wasteland, reduced to one instinct: survive. I do

Two little words from the three I tell you all the time. I love you; I do. Just keep breathing. I did that for Braxton. And I do it for you every day. Take this morning for example. I saw this thing when They asked when do you feel the most STUPID. It’s opening my eyes. Hell! A “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.” It’s STUPID, too. But you know why I feel that way. Because I hate myself and like most things, I do, if for everyone else. Love and Hate, which both require me to live. And as the song goes, “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” I hate myself to love Braxton, you, our family.

Geez! I sound so much like, um… a specific political party. I don’t love my critic but care enough to censor myself. Now I’m sitting in bed, wanting to make the list. “Someone You Loved.” I’m still talking to myself because I know you love me, somehow. And Virgil does, too… Why don’t I ask you? How I could love myself, baby girl. Last night, I dreamt about the old Day Job and how I would have felt if I lost it. Hell! I watched my firstborn die, and in his eyes, was his Daddy. I couldn’t even close them. Punishment I needed to see. Beloved, how I long to see a better man in your eyes someday. But how, love? To B Beloved Virgil

996 Days Without B III, Day 437 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 114 ~Some Sirens Find You Regardless~

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Sometimes, when I reread “my” ramblings, I see I wasn’t meant to talk. Screaming, moaning? Hell! Be the strong, silent type. No. That was my son. But there’s only one of him to cry over. No tears for the ladies? Well? Some Sirens Find You Regardless.

Monday, October 23, 2023

Tale 114 ~Some Sirens Find You Regardless~

Three-Hundredth And Fourteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… And how about websites? To think. Suppose I lost access to Twitter/X, Onlyfans, and The Pic Phenomenon.

Suppose I lost it all for a day, Madam—only one day. And I’m trying, Madam. Braxton knows I’m trying. When Braxton was here, as Michael Jackson sang it, “Keep it in the closet.” Ha-ha. And yet I had to give my son “The Talk.” Especially when it came to his Aunt Carolina; my Braxton was a man who recognized her “assets,” the same as me. Like father, like son. Regardless of such features, Virgil will not have such problems. No woman has been in this house since his arrival. As a matter of fact. No maids, best friends, or even women of… um, never mind. Not that I have ever paid for “it.” But there have been other things. And if not. There’s Whisper.

That’s where I met Braxton’s Aunt, and that “Must have been a miracle,” Madam Justice. A lack of bedsprings to sing must mean I find my musical taste elsewhere. Everywhere! But women. Now, I treat everyone as if they’re carriers of a zombie plague. Infected! I always say… ok think, “If you’re not my dog, my girl, or applying for the job, don’t touch me.” Only with women, it’s like something out of the Bible. “Fear not them that kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear (HER) that is able to destroy both soul and body in hell.” If I’m not studying or fawning over the dead, give me mermaids, succubi, Lilith, witches, maenads, scream queens, and sirens.

Who has more monsters, men or women? I wrote a book about it once. Monster Brothel? But that’s not the point. And what is, my critic will ask. I fall in love easily? Once upon a time. And quite horribly. Only that’s something I have to thank Braxton for. He showed me love, and then he broke my heart. Hell! Who needs women? My B was/is braver more beautiful. And yes, better than any woman. Yet I always promised I’d find him a mom. Yeah. Women are everywhere. I will burn or freeze in the Ninth Circle for betraying him. I either deserve to burn and yet be cold and sleepless. Or I’m not worthy of a girl on fire. Some Sirens Find You Regardless

995 Days Without B III, Day 436 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 111 ~Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton~

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With the reading and writing, I do. I’m now saving Virgil’s Birthday? He’s turning three. So, another step towards fifteen… And ain’t nobody reading Braxton’s books yet. It’s hard when they’re unpublished. But today? Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton

Friday, October 20, 2023

Tale 111 ~Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… About how I was a better Daddy to Braxton than Virgil? Hell! That’s like Succubus Lord.

I know that series front, back, and sideways. I’m getting ready to listen to three again (hint, hint). But when I’m going to sleep, I tell myself a bedtime story. I’m already on six and Jacob’s road into Hell. And if that ain’t the story of this existence, minus the hot succubi and other friends.

But let’s stay on topic, which for once ain’t B III. Who am I kidding? It’s always about Triple B. Only today can I focus on Virgil Vivi. Today, he is turning three. And if he’s anything like me, he’d belt out, “I’m still alive. Must have been a miracle.” Or a curse? As the “Good Book” says, we’re all damned anyway. Well, me always. All for my Little Braxton. But what about “my” Virgil?

Do you see what time it is? I can’t say it was the first thing I read. Next to mirrors, clocks are the worst things to look at. Because every second, I can see myself wasting “my” existence. It’s days like yesterday that show everyone else sees this worthless existence.

So I’m not even going to pretend to be happy for Virgil’s birthday? First, I’m never happy about anything. And second, I’ve been trying to be positive. What would make Virgil happy? I wonder. I wasted another seven dollars this morning, but I’m canceling plenty.

“OF” subscriptions? My Lady, particular kinks will do that. Didn’t I talk about my eyes being messed up sometime this week? If anything, I’m tired. And still, there’s time travel.

Only I didn’t think of that when I refused to stay for three extra hours at the Day Job. And you would think with the spare time I’d be finished reading a particular book, that’s um… how to describe it?

I won’t. But I’m so sick of reading about everyone else’s successes. But not any of my own. My Lady, I never burn books but could use the light from V’s B-Day candles. That is if I decide to get up and do anything for his third birthday. Good Luck. “The sun is up, the sky is blue. It’s beautiful, and so are you.” Well, it beats singing Happy Birthday.

Words on an invitation, a card, a gift. Suppose I had Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton.

992 Days Without B III, Day 433 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 110 ~Virgil Sounds Off Braxton~

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I didn’t know V was howling. For a few weeks, he only coughed like hacking up a lung. Then his howl when I left, vomiting and barking at a possum. Hell! All I’m saying is don’t you effing die to myself. “Virgil Sounds Off Braxton”

Thursday, October 19, 2023

Tale 110 ~Virgil Sounds Off Braxton~

991 Days Without B III, Day 432 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Would I be better off if I lied to you? Sorry B, highway, government, time-travel…

This is why I’m talking to you today. “Good morning, and in case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night.” Since wrestling isn’t on tonight, I could watch The Truman Show. NXT was on Tuesday, and I didn’t watch any of it either B III. Roxanne Perez, Piper Niven… And yet, I wonder why I like M Anime so much. It’s the best of both worlds, but we’ll get to that. I should keep it in my pants, but Braxton Barks. Remember when your Aunt Carolina would come by, and you’d be awfully busy with your toy? And she had to let you run all over her massive pair of… Um, anyway, you were very vocal, liking her, not liking her.

But it would be nice if you kept her in your thoughts today. Triple B, please. Probably me, too. Wednesday… well, today for me. I’m thinking about what I have to do. Highways B… Thirty-nine and counting, unfortunately. And the only time I’ve taken a trip like this is when your Aunt was getting married. She’s not anymore, but I’m still scared to death. Hell! She is my friend, and you are my son. And that was enough to give me courage in 2019. And why do I need to talk about courage, your Aunt Carolina, and car rides? Braxton, we’re talking a few miles to prove to Uncle Sam that I am, whatever you say I am. Well, not you specifically. To you, I was Daddy. To them… sigh.

What about to Virgil? He’s sitting at the door in your room, but for once, he’s quiet. You should hear him when I leave the house. I’m sure you have. Have you been scaring him? I’m sorry, Triple B, for my attempts at Halloween humor. Will I even get to see it? Do I have no faith in my driving ability? Or that of other people? Remember sitting with me, Braxton? With my luck, I’ll even end up in Hell, a ghost or a zombie, with no chance of seeing you. If I make it back, I’m the monster or whatever Virgil thinks I am, All to defend a name I hate. And I don’t call Virgil my son. Yet, ever… Virgil Sounds Off Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad