Tale 090 ~Braxton’s Waiting, Room Virgil…~

Being in some car dealership’s waiting room. It beats being on the side of the road. Or worse places. I could be sitting on the couch and get a call that B is dying. Then, cradling him in the waiting room. Try reading… Braxton’s Waiting, Room Virgil…

Friday, September 29, 2023

Tale 090 ~Braxton’s Waiting, Room Virgil…~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Ah? Do you like that? It’s a new intro I’m trying out for you, Lady Sophia.

Anyway, my story. Well, B’s story. Because Sophia, a day doesn’t go by without Braxton. His tale that is? See what I did there? I’m not trying to be funny. At 5:00 in the morning… “This is blasphemy! This is madness!” No. That was when I was sitting in Banfield’s “Waiting Room” for the word that my son would die. So much for any positivity today. Hmm? I’ve gotten back into listening to Motivational speeches… Only because I need audiobooks? Virgil, on the other hand? I should find him a chew toy shaped like a book so he’ll have something to do while he waits here. He doesn’t want to be left waiting all alone. Braxton’s room can be a scary place. So I’m assuming…

There’s no such thing as a comfortable waiting room. But we try desperately, Lady Sophia.

With books? Lady Sophia, I finished “A People’s History of the Vampire Uprising: A Novel” yesterday. That makes thirty-nine books this year. Again, being positive does not work for me. Being thirty-nine, E-Day, and breaking B III’s reading record, Sophia.

And as THEY say, a picture is worth a thousand words. So what was I doing last night with nothing to read? The Pic Phenomenon. I swear I saw this one girl and started going nuts. But did I… you know? Will I lie to you or myself? It usually ends up being both, ha-ha.

And taking my first break today, I was reading about how much having babies cost.

Only Lady Sophia, this bed is my waiting room. “When Will My Life Begin?” Existence?

It starts when I can pay my bills. I’ll have to drive the car to the shop this weekend. Again, I’ll channel those thoughts of how much it cost to tell me Braxton was dying. And then for them to do the deed. But Sophia, I always blame myself. And the Day Job, of course.

I should go to a doctor’s waiting room for myself. I can’t imagine my life without Braxton. I can’t recall a time I felt in good health either. I mean, when nothing is wrong, Sophia.

And my boys, both the dead and the living, are waiting for me… TO DO SOMETHING! Braxton’s Waiting, Room Virgil…

971 Days Without B III, Day 412 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 089 ~Paging Virgil, Knight Braxton~

It wasn’t a big deal. I’d lay on the loveseat, and B would pick a spot and give me a look. “You good,” then he would listen to me, or if it was inappropriate, he’d fall asleep. Books and furry kids. Read all about it. “Paging Virgil, Knight Braxton.”

Thursday, September 28, 2023

Tale 089 ~Paging Virgil, Knight Braxton~

970 Days Without B III, Day 411 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing as how we’re speaking on Sunday, September 24, 2023. You can guess my day

I wonder if I’ll make it to the couch today. And no, that’s not me being mean to Virgil Vivi, B. I was going to call him “the Freeloader.” Yeah, I need to stop that. I’m sorry. It’s not like I haven’t lain in our usual spot and read. “And it hurts like hell. Yeah, it hurts like hell,” sometimes, as the song goes. But today, I’ll be exhausted, lazy, or just plain stupid, B III. However, you would never say that. You wouldn’t say much, and if I couldn’t… books. That’s what I want to speak to you about. Don’t worry… (snickers) yeah right. Anyway, Triple B, I’m not banning books. Remember all the books I couldn’t read you. You’re a big boy now.

But I’m not. Seeing as how I’m still talking to my dead furry kid. That’s what THEY would say. And Virgil? He would prefer I get out of bed. The Dining room table isn’t helping. Considering all those long days I would spend writing, you would know all about that. Only we’re talking about reading. And I was looking at the Man In The Mirror. I spent all this morning listing off the books I was getting for cheap or even for free from people. Hometown Hero (The Breeder Book 1), Witch Girl Study Group: The Complete Series, Backyard Dungeon 2: A Reverse Portal Fantasy, and more. The year you died, 2021, I read about six. 2022 was nearly forty, if not more, Triple B.

2023 started off promising, but with Kindle Challenges, the series I started, and a need for more time. And I have a whole library waiting… What exactly am I asking for, Braxton? Um, well… I would have finished A People’s History of the Vampire Uprising: A Novel. If it weren’t for running out of time or reading stuff, that would have someone reading me Miranda Rights at some point. And I hate reading anything about the bank and cash, but reading about dead fur babies vs. beautiful women and everything buried rising. Would it matter to you what I read, Braxton? Asking permission? As long as we’re together and still breathing. Braxton, I’m still reeling from your broken record. 526 Days. Paging Virgil, Knight Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 088 ~On B…eing Back, Virgil~

Nothing on my back, holding me back, or pushing me back. If I moved forward on everything like I did… ending B III’s suffering. Hell! I should be on my back for that instead of sitting on my ass. A zombie trying to get back. “On B…eing Back, Virgil.”

Wednesday, September 27, 2023

Tale 088 ~On B…eing Back, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now… and “I’m never going back again.” To being broke, Inspector. Depends on how you define broke.

I would have paid anything. Hell! I would have gone full-on John Q to save my son’s life, Inspector. Virgil is lucky if I consider buying him a new, comfy spot. I’m broke. Considering it’s Saturday, September 23, 2023, I will be soon. But the Day Job hours… I’ve never blamed anyone for Braxton’s death… besides myself and the Day Job taking me away. I never came back, you know. My Braxton is love, and the Day Job left me nothing but RAGE. And so I would come back exhausted. But not really. In thinking I was protecting my son, I would get stuck in a place known as indifference, dear Echo. And I have yet to come back from Braxton’s Euthanasia. I’m Still Standing

By the time you read this, it will have been 969 days. I could have spent every single one in bed. There were times Triple B was watching me trying to… Well, pills were taken. Only I survived. And if it wasn’t my Depression, it was laziness; nothing new, Inspector. Except the pain got worse. A broken heart, a befuddled mind. And my behind Inspector. Honest to God, that’s how long I’ve been sitting here, Inspector. I lament that one way or another, I will have to break my back, and for what? With B III, it made sense. And yes, Virgil is still here. But I need bug repellent, light bulbs, and new pants. I could go, Inspector. But I don’t want to ever.

Family? You want an honest confession. How long have I been here? My thirties, Inspector. And when was the last time I had RELATIONS? I had the maid in bed once. But that wasn’t the question, and she and I never. Braxton wouldn’t have minded if it had been his aunt. My honorary sister, mind you. But Braxton loves her, and I was shallow Inspector Echo. So I haven’t had RELATIONS in years, for all intents and purposes. There are life goals. Even now, I want to own an adult business, you know. Lying here, Inspector, always. Please! That would require getting off my back. So I can see women on theirs. Inspector, Am I Wrong? Zombie returning to the living? On B…eing Back, Virgil

969 Days Without B III, Day 410 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 087 ~Look Out B…Low Virgil~

Braxton would step on my face to wake me in the morning. A reason to stay on top of things like groomer appointments. Now I remember to look at the foot of the bed for V. Has the backyard fence fallen? Don’t Look Down? But then Look Out B…Low Virgil.

Tuesday, September 26, 2023

Tale 087 ~Look Out B…Low Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But does that make up for me being less than 6′? 5′ 5″. And my enormous…

I’m in a randy mood. And also, I’m not a liar. Am I all cried out from Braxton today, hmm? Am I sweating bullets from whatever it is that will break next? Billionaires hate money? Yeah, that made me chuckle. But you don’t have to worry about me getting on a sub or going into space. As much as death… fascinates me. Drowning has to be one of the worst ways to go. And I gave up my astronaut aspirations so many years ago. Madness? Anyway, I’m not talking about Star Wars or Star Trek. You know I’ll obsess somewhat. No. That’s all saved for Braxton. But why am I looking down and not up? Plus, his box is still sitting here on the nightstand.

It was the same when he was alive. B was getting older, sicker, and dying, but I turned a blind eye to it. I mean everything. And then I caught his eye a certain way, and you know the song love. “When the walls come tumblin’ tumblin’ down.” And so it was with my firstborn. But what reminded me of Braxton today… As if I needed reminding, It was the freeloader. Virgil is one of our “children.” Okay, so I took him outside and came back in the house for something. Thirty-nine since E-Day, so forgive me, I’m old. Heading outside… Frightens me for all sorts of reasons. But today, Friday, September 22, 2023, it was the fence in the backyard. It doesn’t look right.

Hell! I haven’t looked right going on 968 and counting. I might fall anytime. Another reason I stay sitting in bed. And that’s not right at all, my love. What’s my Depression doing to our family? You can’t understand what Braxton’s death did to me. My boy always looked up or to the side because that’s where Daddy stays. And how did I reward him? By sending him to Hell? Because I know I’m not going anywhere else, baby girl. And I always like being warm. But can’t my wife’s arms or our children wrapped around my legs do the same? I cry, I throw money, and it’s only a matter of time before the fence finally falls. Cold and alone. Look Out B…Low Virgil

968 Days Without B III, Day 409 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 086 ~Sometimes, Heroes Will Require Saving~

I had a “phase” when I asked God to save me. There were those days I asked God to save B. Like the song goes, He’s My Son. And what about saving myself? “I’m the bad guy, duh.” I need saving from the radio. Sometimes, Heroes Will Require Saving.

Monday, September 25, 2023

Tale 086 ~Sometimes, Heroes Will Require Saving~

Three-Hundredth And Tenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… so say it with me… You’re No Hero! I’m far from it. But Ma’am, I know one.

Okay… a few more. But I, as always, want to talk about my son, who was/is my hero. B. Be my hero… get it? Yeah, I’ve never been one for comedy as I’m not one to be brave ha. The comedian and caped crusader are dead. I wish I could add my cowardice, Madam. But no. My courage died alongside my son. And what about Virgil? He ain’t Braxton. Madam, my son was/is a big, brave dog… in spirit. What drew me to Virgil was the fact that I saw fear. I am my father’s son and don’t want to be um… scary. I mean, both Virgil and I are afraid to exist. But I saved him. What does that make me? A big hero, Ma’am. Ain’t we just. Firefly?

In case you were wondering where that bit of diatribe came from. Plus, censorship. Critics. One more reason I ain’t a hero and more like a Republican. Won’t I defend free speech? There’s plenty of which I should be fighting for every day. “It’s a wicked world that we live in. It’s cruel and unforgiving,” the song says. That’s why we need heroes and champions. I need my son. But when he needed me? Virgil needs me? A hero born and one in the making. What does it take, Madam? Daddies are heroes, or they should be. But with V. Hell, with existence in general? “Wish I’d been a prom KING, fighting for the title,” I swear this pop culture.

Because today, I would instead pay off a villain and possible racist in Logan Jacobs. Speaking with Lady Sophia this morning, I said I needed more audiobooks. Am I Wrong? This Is America. So that means, in one way or another, I’m paying off a racist somewhere down the line. And while I’m no Republican or one to stick to the status quo… yeah, right. I want to play the villain. Or should I say antihero, depending on your definition? I could say I’m giving myself too much credit since all I want, I’d do right here in bed. Madam, I want to write books, run a brothel, and make “specific” movies. Sheets become capes? For Braxton, myself, a wife? Sometimes, Heroes Will Require Saving

967 Days Without B III, Day 408 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 083 ~I’ll Page Braxton, Virgil~

So I can say I read the worst thing. The number 527. Braxton held the record at 526, as he was still in the world, but now? Now, I’m debating reading for Kindle Challenges. More books on dead fur babies. And… sigh, HaremLit. I’ll Page Braxton, Virgil

Friday, September 22, 2023

Tale 083 ~I’ll Page Braxton, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now… No matter how many times I read that, it ain’t true. But I’m thirty-nine with E-Day…

One more reason I look like a Republican. No, I don’t mean with skin tone, ha-ha. I mean the fact that I hate “my” history. Again, I’m thirty-nine, and what have I done? Nothing! Hell! The past three years have been spent reading about how to bury fur babies. But I should check how many books I’ve read on that subject. And I’m not feeling my Kindle right now. Amongst other things, but we’ll get to that, Lady Sophia. I haven’t broken 161, hmm. But 527? Last night, while reading “A People’s History of the Vampire Uprising: A Novel.” I broke my record with Monsieur B. That started Wednesday, September 16, 2020. Sigh. Yes, I know the streak ended Wednesday, February 23, 2022. Wi-Fi failure…

But I still got to see a day when Braxton was in the world, and now that reminder is gone. So there I was last night. And I’m apologizing for “forgetting” my son again, Lady Sophia. Forgetting, of course, isn’t the right word, but critics… And speaking of which, why don’t I give them something to criticize for real? All the books that I’ve written and should be writing. But Day Job plus laziness? Look what time it is. I should have been up at four. And while playing around with the phone for a while. What was I reading? Instead, what was I looking at? It’s not like I could have any fun. Virgil gets to sleep here. No reading on the couch yesterday

Who knows? If Virgil gets fifteen years like Braxton. Only I’ll be sitting here ranting and raving about minimum wage, making a change, and turning a page in existence. Too late! My Lady, I’ll be forty next year, and what will I be doing regarding reading and writing? Which do you think is more pathetic? Reading about dead fur babies. Or, let’s say, women and elements of life? For now, I’ll stick with my Amazon book orders —except for Eric Vall. I’ve made it through his series again, and Satan’s Sorority Girls 2 isn’t an audiobook yet. I still think Logan Jacobs is racist to an extent with “Backyard Dungeon.” And what of the “HaremLit” I’m writing? Seriously, Cherry and Braxton would be upset —the characterizations. I’ll Page Braxton, Virgil.

964 Days Without B III, Day 405 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 082 ~Virgil, Let’s Breakout, Braxton~

I haven’t seen a Math class in years, but still hate it. And reading… That’s how bad it is. I read novels in Math. But if I read one more day, my record with B III on September 16, 2020, is broken. Broken already, but… Virgil, Let’s Breakout, Braxton

Thursday, September 21, 2023

Tale 082 ~Virgil, Let’s Breakout, Braxton~

963 Days Without B III, Day 404 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You could be anywhere right now. Better than here? Daddy’s in the Special Hell. Still?

What? You rather I be mad than sad? And yes, B III, I have already cried over you once. It was for the stupidest reason. But I was mad as Hell when Virgil came close to vomiting all over the phone a few weeks ago. Only he was sick. And when you were the same, Braxton? I could be all sorts of mad at you now. You know me and my fondness for list B III. Braxton, today is Wednesday, September 20, 2023. But by the time you read this, it will have been 964 Days that I’ve had a broken heart. Even now, I want to yell at you, ha-ha. What about the bed I continue sitting in that’s collapsing? Depression and Humiliations galore.

Cherry would not be pleased about what amounts to a character study. And neither would an ex-beauty queen that did… certain movies. And what about writing my books, like I always promised? Because the last thing I want to do to today B is more reading. That’s what brings me here today. As you can see, my record for “Days in a row” on Wednesday is 525, soon to be 526. And there lies the problem. Thursday will be 527 Days. Braxton… I’m breaking “my” record. And in so doing, a part of you… is disappearing. It’s like a Mario Kart Time Trial, your ghost. Virgil’s been here 404 Days, Braxton. Breaking a record like this doesn’t mean much in the big scheme of things.

Hell! Braxton, when you died, I didn’t do anything… let’s say sinful for 161 Days. Counting today, I’m not even close to breaking that record at 54. Another reason I’m trying to talk to you instead of looking up Yabbos. But I did speak to your Aunt Carolina yesterday. Nothing can be that paradise, I would think. Although that would explain why you’re not breaking out of Heaven, Hell, or testing the Rainbow Bridge… I’m sure Virgil could use a break from my existing. He’s not so desperate today… Tomorrow? Triple B, you are your father’s son. You wanted to stay always and forever -trying to save me from breaking down in a broken world. I made “my” bed, this Hell. Virgil, Let’s Breakout, Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 081 ~B’s In Art Virgil~

“The metal is ready for the Maker’s hand.” I am not an artist. I cannot make another Braxton. I’m not helping to make babies. And what about books? Between the tags I’m writing, titles for blog posts, and Titanic… um, never mind. “B’s In Art Virgil.”

Wednesday, September 20, 2023

Tale 081 ~B’s In Art Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now… so I’ll commission someone to paint “Backwards Beauty” for real. What do I know about art?

Well, I’m thirty-nine. Wow! Inspector, it hurts about as much as saying Braxton is dead. I go back and forth. But I know that the death of my son is worse. Right behind that is being born. And falling in third, for now… anything to do with my Enormous… umm… Anyway, so art? As I told Dear Future Wife, Braxton is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I may not be a smart man… Go on! But after you see someone like that. Hell! I can’t blame him for not getting back into writing. I wrote three or four books after his death/murder. No wonder I got the damaged or maybe fragile Virgil. I can’t be responsible for destroying anything so beautiful again.

And then bring on The Pic Phenomenon. Did I mention I’m not writing much, Inspector? That’s even when I have “inspiration” for a leading lady. I told one of the girls that these unsavory types don’t want “my” money. I’m not STUPID enough to give them a credit card. But they do allow me to create two pictures a day. Wins and losses, Inspector Echo.

A particular girl would be upset, but I’ve done worse. I was up late last night for several reasons. Not only this one. I was doing business with some more people. And even after buying the product, I haven’t used any of it. You see why I “steal adult entertainment.” Hell! My son’s dead. The freeloader’s here. But yes, Yabbos.

If there is a God… Yeah, the last time I tried talking to him, her, or it, Braxton lay dying. The point is such a force put more thought into Yabbos than my existence. Future? Sacrifice! Most noble if I have anything to say about it. To be made in such an image? “If there’s a God up there. Somethin’ above.” Is he paying Lucifer for temptation or what, huh? I wouldn’t be surprised. But I know what I’d pick if God came down, breast in one hand, Braxton in the other. “Now, with these hands, with these hands,” Inspector. Generating tags every day, what do I ask for? I can’t paint; there’s no prose. And to pet Braxton again… Beautiful, B’s In Art Virgil.

962 Days Without B III, Day 403 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 080 ~Virgil, B…eing Beautiful Hurts~

“You knock me off of my feet, now baby,” or “Take My Breath Away.” When I see a pretty girl, it’s more like Sade’s “Smooth Operator.” But there was when I first saw Braxton. When he died, it was “Song Unsung” Beautiful. Virgil, B…eing Beautiful Hurts

Tuesday, September 19, 2023

Tale 080 ~Virgil, B…eing Beautiful Hurts~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But one of the last things I would buy would be a mirror. Other than Mondays…

My love, I’d shave on Mondays when I had the old Day Job and wouldn’t bother looking into a mirror the rest of the week. How do THEY say… Money can make anyone beautiful. Right? Or should I say white, “right,” in a GOP way? I can’t avoid the ugly. Well, unless I’m crying about my boy. Next to you, Braxton, is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’m being honest. Why do you think I stayed out of my “business” when he was around? I have seen angels three times in my existence. I’m not counting the Victoria’s Secret catalog -being young. I’ve mentioned thirty-nine sucks continuously? Anyway, there was the day I buried an angel. I married one. Then you birthed ours.

And it hurts. Heaven help me, it “Hurts Like Hell.” Every day, I fight to keep my eyes closed. And ain’t that a sin? I’ve sung it before and’ll say it again, “Feeling super, super, super suicidal.” But why when “There’s so much beauty in the world. I feel like I can’t take it.” “My” critic was telling me today, Sunday, September 17, 2023. I use too many pop culture references. And why don’t I use “my” own words? They are too damn ugly. And so I surround myself with beauty. My dame, dimes, dependents (our children), and death… well, only B III’s. “Live fast, die young, and leave a beautiful corpse,” I read. Stopping his heart couldn’t erase my Braxton’s beauty. I See Fire…

Or rather Braxton’s ashes sitting in a box on the nightstand or the pendant around my throat. Which I’m surprised your hands haven’t found… yet. Or am I your “pretty monster,” as in Tillie Cole’s book Jegudiel? There is beauty everywhere, my love, I know. And for how long now… 961 days, I’ve been searching. No! You’re here, our kids. Dealing with the Rebeccas the first time I saw Virgil. Hell! Seeing Braxton years ago. Love, I say it was love at first sight, but I was so blind to it back then. I guess I am now, but I’m trying. Braxton, the first billion, and the painting Backwards Beauty. It all nearly killed me. “What A Heavenly Way To Die.” Virgil, B…eing Beautiful Hurts.

961 Days Without B III, Day 402 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 079 ~Survival Doesn’t Promise Happy Endings~

I’ve kept V alive for 401 days. B had 15 years. Now, what made B happy? Comfy spots, cuddling with his Aunt’s Yabbos, and counting the minutes until his Dad arrived home. I survived 15 E-Days with him. But Survival Doesn’t Promise Happy Endings.

Monday, September 18, 2023

Tale 079 ~Survival Doesn’t Promise Happy Endings~

Three-Hundredth And Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… But I have seen that billionaires are the cringiest, crabbiest, and crappiest people. They don’t die. Submarine…

So does that mean I want to be happy? Today, Sunday, September 17, 2023, I long to die, Madam. It will be no different by the time you read this. But “Love and Happiness,” huh? Love died with my little boy, my Braxton. And Happiness? The seventh E-Day. I think. I survived that one and the thirty-ninth, too. Somehow, someway, I’m surviving. But for what? As I told Lady Lunalesca yesterday. Pop culture has been bouncing around inside my head. “My” Existence is a mix of 2009’s The Road, Half-Life 2, 1984, and Equilibrium. Sigh. As the song plays, “I keep asking God what I’m for. And he tells me, “Gee, I’m not sure,” sigh. I’m doing a lot of that, Madam. I’m still breathing.

So, shouldn’t I show some gratitude? That’s not one of the meditations I’ve done today. And I got enough gratitude with those motivational speeches I once played daily. Ha-ha! From wanting to move forward in this existence. To seek only the will to endure. Endure and Survive? But don’t plan on being happy for the love of everything, Madam. Hell! I love Braxton like pancakes, but he didn’t make me happy. I was/am proud of him, Madam. I was a Papa. I pounded the pavement of this existence. That’s because I promised him that I would keep him safe. And here I go, crying again because how’d that turn out? Madam, with all the stories I tell myself. Braxton didn’t die happy. Brave, proud, loved…

But Happy… That’s a question I don’t ask the Man in the Mirror anymore. I don’t ask how to survive either, to be fair. It’s what I do? It’s like that fable “The Scorpion and the Frog.” But neither of them survived? One more reason I’m so “in love with dyin’,” as it were. “We are The Walking Dead,” “We are the Dead,” and that’s how it is, Madam. Life, Living, Love? No! Every day, I rise from the dead. And I move like everyone else towards… I don’t know. But zombies, the infected, and the stupid. Viruses Madam. Stupidity has infected me. And the cure? One day, I’ll find out, Madam, if I survive. Do I want to? Knowing Survival Doesn’t Promise Happy Endings

960 Days Without B III, Day 401 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will