Tag: B III

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

Tale 109 ~Curtains For B, Virgil~

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Is it curses or curtains? Either way, I’m awake and have to see the world. The window’s not high enough. And the privacy fence is breaking, so the doors will need curtains. And nothing will block out my greatest crime anyway. “Curtains For B, Virgil”

Wednesday, October 18, 2023

Tale 109 ~Curtains For B, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. It’s been a week since my last confession. Though this week hasn’t been as HARD… We’ll get there.

I continue to cry over B III’s death. Or not? Hmm. I had something in my eye. Or so I thought. It’s been the only reason I’ve shed a few tears. You know how I love to sleep. And if anything gets me to open these eyes all big and wide… staring at some massive… Inspector, I’m supposed to be talking about Braxton, right? I remember I wanted to take him on the road with me when his Aunt Carolina was getting married. Sore subject? Inspector, I’ll be forty come next E-Day. Yes, thirty-nine continues to suck. I should cry. Or, as the song goes, you “Make Me Wanna Die.” This is another reason I need a weapons lockbox instead of a nightstand drawer. Curtains?

If I wanted that, I could open a window. The house needs to be bigger. But I can dream my existence away. It’s nothing like waking up and it’s nearly midnight. In case you were wondering why I’m calling you so late. The cold, the dark, and the laziness. Thinking of B. My son was dying, but still, B got up and walked to his water bowl even when I moved it closer to him. I’m trying with the waterworks, aren’t I? And what about Virgil Vivi? Inspector, if I survive tomorrow, then I can worry about him. I’m not driving down the highway today. Again, there’s Braxton’s Aunt. And now I have to talk to the government. With my luck? Crimes? Curses/Curtains foiled again.

Or should I say soiled again? Hell! I wish I had made such a mess in the shower. That would make for easy cleaning. I also have plenty of paper towels. So what broke me? Inspector, honest to God, I’ve downloaded more Japanese anime. That I don’t have a prayer of ever pronouncing. There have been plenty of cosplayers and AI girls to gawk at. Inspector, I can never forget Cherry and her pigtails. Finally, I put more money up on “OF,” and I discovered this particular model I’m aching to pay off. Paywalls Inspector. What’s one more curtain? And with all my secrets… That would be motivation enough to join Braxton. But Virgil’s turning three on the 20th. Anniversaries? Birthdays? Curtains For B, Virgil

990 Days Without B III, Day 431 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 108 ~Virgil Looks To B~

WillLeave a comment

I want to see my son again. But until then. Have I been working on his photo album? Or I could be training Virgil to do something other than sleep. And if you saw the things, I’ve typed into search bars lately. Better to sleep. So, Virgil Looks To B.

Tuesday, October 17, 2023

Tale 108 ~Virgil Looks To B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you. Hell! I desire you, want to devour you, even though I don’t deserve you these days.

Do I want too much or too little? As I used to say, I am a billionaire. I want money. Inevitably, I’ll cut on one of “my” playlists, and ahem… “Yo, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want.” The Spice Girls? I could lose all of pop culture, “For one thing.” Finger Eleven? Are they still together? Anyway, I only remember that one song for real. Like you know, the one thing that I would give up everything for. I want my son back. I want Braxton more than “the air that I breathe.” Okay, will I sing something else, love? That’s three songs I’ve looked up in about five minutes on this Sunday, October 15, 2023. I’m looking for time.

Which I’ll have a lot more of after these past couple of weeks. Does that mean less money to spend? Again, we are still billionaires, so I’m not looking at the money. Or the mother of my children. What about the mutt I still call my firstborn? Even now, I’ll defend Braxton’s pedigree. He was a purebred Deer Head Chihuahua. Now Virgil Vivi (sigh). Can I ever look at him the same way? And does he even want me to, with B’s paw prints? And, of course, I’m lying when I say I don’t look at you. I’m trying not to sing, still trying. You know the type of man I am, baby girl. The businesses I run. That I’m a connoisseur of boo… cleavage.

But looking at anything good? I’ve been struggling with gratitude and counting my many blessings. And to this day, I continue to say I’m never happy. And I can’t help this… AHEM: “I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad.” Someday, maybe if I knew where Braxton rested forever. And I feel like I’ve stopped looking. I’ll feel the pain always and forever, but after all this time. It’s STUPID, but I left my pendant with his ashes on. What if I had lost it while I was doing whatever? The last Fur Baby book I read was five books ago, love. Virgil’s been hiding because it’s like Braxton no longer guides him. And me? Saving the day, sleeping with you, such beauty. Virgil Looks To B

989 Days Without B III, Day 430 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 107 ~Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed~

WillLeave a comment

I watch people with purses, knapsacks, lunch containers, book bags, and everything else daily. All they need today or longer? And those people in boxes? Or Hell! Bags too. A good supply of them with everything going on. Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed.

Monday, October 16, 2023

Tale 107 ~Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed~

Three-Hundredth And Thirteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Am I getting better with these intros, or what? Do I have writing in the bag? Hmm.

And a lot of other stuff, too. It’s better not to go flaunting everything that I carry around with me. Have you ever heard that song, Head Shoulders Knees and Toes? The adult version of that is Phone Wallet Keys and Glasses. And who said I am a grown-up? Ha! I’m still crying over Braxton. He is the only one I carry with me. Madam, there was this big storm, and I remember grabbing the box with Braxton’s… remains. I mean, if the town blew away and all. Anything that takes me to my boy. Or prevents me from going outside. I mean today since I’m time traveling. It’s Sunday, October 15, 2023. That means? I’ll be spending today thinking of being in a box.

I need to stop with this. Uh, I’ve been watching for days on end. People winding up in a bag or a box. “Glass or plastic, glass or plastic?” As Stanley Goodspeed might say. Gulp. Am I going to offend anyone by talking about Israel, Hamas, Palestine, Iran, or wherever? If I did, you know how I am… scorched Earth. I don’t pack up and leave or box stuff up. Do I have to remember that time the Olds cut me off? I bagged up a lot of things then. Hell! I even left Braxton because I had no clue where I was going. It was the longest B and I were apart. And now? If we count Monday, it’s been 988 Days. Keep counting.

What? The ways bags are better than boxes. Suppose I can remember why I even made this rule, Madam. Other than how I’ve wanted a briefcase to hold money or… viruses. Resident Evil. To think there was a time I wanted to study Virology. Putting people in boxes? Madam, I don’t mean how M Anime talks about going “soldier.” But speaking of boxes… uh, yeah. I want to be in her box or Cherry’s. And how many women can I name? And still, that would be nothing but trouble. Tell that to Pandora. Some boxes should stay closed and yet. I want a million, um, a billion dollars kept in a duffle bag. Now that would be living, wouldn’t it? Life Bagged Beats Death Boxed

988 Days Without B III, Day 429 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will