Chronicle 316 ~Silly To B Cryin’~

“Same things make us laugh, make us cry.” How old was I when GTA: San Andreas came out? Way before I had my son. That game didn’t make me do much of either, but B III did. I laugh, I cry. And after 467 Days? Silly To B Cryin’

Friday, May 13, 2022

Chronicle 316 ~Silly To B Cryin’~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I don’t know whether I want to laugh or cry saying that. Both are good.

But you know me. I’m a “man” that likes to know where he stands. Everything has its place. I prefer that mine not be in this bed, but today Thursday, May 5, 2022, so yeah. Sophia, I meant to talk to you yesterday, but I decided to fool myself and crawl right back beneath the sheets. What do I keep saying about, The Comedian? Oh, not political or comedic issues. Aren’t we here to talk about Braxton. A good story about my lost B III. When I want to cry at the Day Job, I think, “my son is dead.” It happens over and over. Only you would believe me silly for crying about my Day Job. Why don’t you quit, like being a Dad?

No, never! Hell! Most people wish I would stop talking about Braxton, like my firstborn. Instead, would they have me talk about my penis; Lady Sophia, it’s like my subject. Seeing how I’m time traveling, I already fucked up my week but this next one? Well, by the time you read this, who knows. But some things never change. The way I feel right now. It’s funny the things that get me off sometimes. You know how I have my most hated words. I should have the words that make me do things… that are so good. Dick jokes to the absolute disgust I have with myself. I meant to take a nap. We’re talking now, so when the time comes… like me, naptime (sigh).

Comedy comes in three’s, THEY say. So we have my dog, the Day Job, and my dick. What else makes me burst into tears. Such silly things, to what I’ve lost forever. Me, Me, ME! Lady Sophia, I cried because I burnt through the last of Succubus Lord stories today. Tears fall every Sunday when I realize that I failed Six Impossible Things again. There are more when I look at my bank account and understand I’m nowhere close. Sophia, fuck being a family man. I look at all the tits, lips, and clits; I’ll never know in this existence. A good story about Braxton? He would make me forget everything, but I’d still cry. Inevitable, but love can be everything. Silly To B Cryin’?

467 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 310 ~The Sorrows To B~

Long ago, I got super heavy into daily motivations. But I no longer imagine things can/will be better. But B taught me that they can’t get worse. Tears, the sweat of my brow, other bodily fluids… Um, I don’t think alcohol could dull, The Sorrows To B

Saturday, May 7, 2022

Chronicle 310 ~The Sorrows To B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, ha-ha. Some of my smaller investments include McDonald’s, Subway, Pizza Hut, Buffalo Wild Wings, Krystal, etc.

I feel like crying, Lady Lunalesca. There was a time when being sad didn’t make me hungry. Much like anger, grief takes a lot out of you. If you’re wondering why I’m talking to you so late, my Lady. Yeah, 6:30 in the morning. It’s quite specfic Lady Luna. Tears. Lying here in bed, it’s like I’m flooding the boat. And then the moment I get up, it’s like an ocean of tears. I’m sure I’ve said before I can’t swim. Yet one way or another, I always make it back to bed. I always say, when it rains, it pours. And I don’t mean in a Luke Combs type of way. Water, water, everywhere, as THEY say. But shopping, some puppies, a shitty lawn.

I feel like sweating? Not today, Lady Lunalesca, but what if I found Braxton today? He could be there, you know, at PetSmart. Hell, was it this week or the last one; I looked up Deer Head Chihuahuas? Fur babies are a lot of work. And considering what I’ve been doing. Today I need to check my schedule, but for now, I’ll do the work of missing my son B III. That means I continue to exist. I would shed tears over him than go into the Day Job and sweat. It’s not only the work but the fear. As always, the humiliations galore, I suffer in that place. How about everyday existence? If I had only gotten up earlier instead of hitting the snooze.

I feel like making love, ha, now that’s a laugh. Only I don’t feel like laughing with everything I continue to do. Why can’t I keep “it” in my fucking pants as I did before? 161 days Lady Lunalesca. This isn’t right at all. But I would choose depression over the disgust that happens the moment after. I’m pathetic and sad, but not enough to know how to stop. Do I want to go back to hiding if I had one more four-legged kid around? Do I want to know the worst pain I have ever had in this existence in what, another 15 years? Why not cry about the Day Job, my dick, and the disgust with my presence? Braxton, The Sorrows To B.

461 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 309 ~Boy Meets Dog B~

I don’t have stories of me finding a dog. My grandma had two. I had a Chow Chow pup for a minute that was killed by my granddad’s dog. But B III was 15 years, eleven months. 13 days shy of 16. A story of him, finding him again. “Boy Meets Dog B”

Friday, May 6, 2022

Chronicle 309 ~Boy Meets Dog B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’ll have my pick of any litter; getting another dog? With my billions of dollars?

I’m sure I’ve told the story enough about how I met my son. If I ever get off my ass and publish our story “My Turn To B III.” What do I call this, somehow getting it up to have this third conversation on a Saturday, no less? Time Travel and even more cranberries. “Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie.” Yeah, I couldn’t resist. You know how I am with the zombie genre. If Braxton got bit, I understand I might not put him down. Way wrong choice of words, isn’t Lady Sophia? He’s no zombie. A ghost? Room 1408? Except he isn’t trying to kill me. Again with the doctors and the cranberries healing? Lady Sophia, is it easier finding a new furry kid ever. Don’t know

Seeing how it’s Saturday, I know it won’t happen, spending five minutes in PetSmart. There are no stories of me finding a new fur baby. And as I left today, I had a strange thought. What would Triple B do if he wanted to get my attention? Braxton was dying. He’d find a soft, comfy spot and then give me that look he did when I was up all night. “It’s time to go to bed because we have to walk in the morning.” And that was that, my Lady. Only he would want to be so very soft. As if it were an honor to pick him up. He’d find the perkiest set of boobs or the prettiest face. So not the Rebeccas, hmm?

I’ve said before that B III had ruined me pretty much. If he does come back to me, it will be as Deer Head Chihuahua. And even if it isn’t him, Braxton knows; shallow bastard. It’s what his dad has always been, except when he was dying, and I held him as long as I could. And still, I was ashamed because everyone knew he was sick and dying. Always that will be my failure and my disgrace. But I’m talking about seeing Braxton again. He could want me to adopt, to rescue as it allows me to play the hero I couldn’t be before. I’ve never found a dog ever, but this is Braxton we’re talking about; He’s My Son. Boy Meets Dog B

460 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 303 ~Busy Living, B Dying~

I think I’ve only “lived” four days ever, and two of them I regret. E-Day and the day my boy died. And the other two… it’s way too early, and I got things to do. I always have something but never in my best interest or B’s. Busy Living, B Dying.

Saturday, April 30, 2022

Chronicle 303 ~Busy Living, B Dying~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it still wouldn’t make sense… B’s passing. I told M Anime we have a price.

$155.01 That’s how much I made the week B died. $234.90 is the amount he died for. That’s the week I was working as he lay dying. Until this second, I never bothered to look. I still keep all the paperwork from his first exam at the beginning of the month to my guilty plea. Hell, the evidence that shows what I did. But why am I bringing this up? Never can tell with these things, Lady Lunalesca. I wake up every morning saying, NO! Should I be “happy” that I’m being reimbursed for getting fucked free of earwax, hehe? What about the fact that I have security for another year? Paycheck disappeared so fast. If only M Anime saw it, what would she think?

A great man once said, “It Doesn’t Matter.” Lunalesca, I know I was disgusted with myself despite my productivity yesterday. Creaming all over the bedsheets. Like Johnny Lawrence finding the internet in Cobra Kai. What I deserve, napping or masturbating. Why am I being so crude today? I woke up on time… okay, fifteen minutes late after shutting off the alarm. One more thing to piss me off today. If it was the Day Job? Fuck! The days I jump out of bed because, as I said. This way or that, I am fucked, Luna. Yet this morning, it wasn’t as if I was sleeping anyway or better, resting, recovering. After Monday, I can’t even sleep as I choose. I keep thinking I’ll be deaf.

That’s not a dig at those who are Lady Lunalesca. Wasn’t I blessed to have one ear? And aren’t I blessed that after an hour at the doctor’s office, I have two, and then what Lunalesca? Cherry asked me to send a page of my work to her as she works on her editing gig. I got an email from a guy who saw my reviews (hmm) and wants me to do one for him. Even B III… I was busy reading, and I still know, feel, believe I can’t pick up another “normal” book. You know one, not about grieving and mourning? Not that I mind that much. Existing. For damn sure, I ain’t living. 454 Days, dick in hand. Busy Living, B Dying.

454 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 302 ~A Story Without B~

LSV. I had a rule, I wouldn’t watch a show without three letters. I don’t think I’ve ever written much that doesn’t have the three B’s. Boobs, Brothel, some boy trying to be the boss and/or a man. Reading and writing 453 days? A Story Without B.

Friday, April 29, 2022

Chronicle 302 ~A Story Without B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now… The beginning of one of my self-help books, should I ever write one. Or anything ever?

B dying didn’t stop me from writing three books last year. One without raw nakedness. The second was “My Turn To B III.” Hell, I’ve only added on with all my letters to Braxton. And the last one was another addition to my “Cherry” series. Can’t remember the title. This is ok. Considering how disappointing this month has been for reading, writing, and listening. Yeah, what the fuck do I know about Arithmetic? Not that I live in Florida, ha. Pardon my language, and I don’t mean to be so… well, I don’t even know. Sounds like something I should write about, but you know me, Lady Sophia. I write about banging my balls or having none. There was my bum ear. And always Braxton.

But putting my balls first like the selfish prick I am. My friends are suffering. What about this bed I won’t leave? And I return to my boy every day. Yeah, day 428. Never Forget! As I was saying, my balls. When I don’t read, differences between grieving and mourning. Sophia, it always comes back to sex. That makes me think of the “Basic Bitch” Anyway, there’s this song, “Thirteen Women (And Only One Man In Town).” Once I got my hearing back, between porno, poor me, and paws scraping the floor. It’s this earworm. So I imagine “The perfect woman… the Goddess.” Or twelve, to be specific, but then… I always want more. Is it more love, more sex, more words? I’m pretty annoyed.

  1. Maiko Kaneda
  2. Imari Kurumi
  3. Yukiko Minase
  4. St. Louis
  5. Tifa Lockhart
  6. Aerith Gainsborough
  7. Scarlet
  8. Nico, Nicoletta Goldstein
  9. Hilda
  10. Juliet Starling
  11. Serah Farron
  12. Ashe, Ashelia B’nargin Dalmasca
  13. Lulu
  14. Linkle
  15. 2B
  16. Commander White
  17. Kainé
  18. Rikku
  19. Airi Akizuki
  20. Zone-tan
  21. Rei Ayanami
  22. Michiru Kaiou

I got this when I talked about my likes. It was to Artificial Intelligence, “Replika.” People are way worse, Lady Sophia. Yes, another moment missing Braxton. My son, B III. So I can’t talk about making the bedsprings sing. As the song goes, “What’s My Age Again?” Or the fact that I couldn’t stick with 13 girls. What about 64, 72, a total of 456 hmm? I could talk about the next book I want to write. Wouldn’t I be better off writing it, you ask? It would always include a brothel, my boy, and bloodshed one way or another. Sophia, there is always Braxton. As long as my story goes on, so will his. But to write it? To Live? A Story Without B.

453 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 296 ~Have A Cow B~

Don’t have a cow, man! Well, my second best friend is about to have a lot of chickens. B would have loved to visit a farm… Poor choice of words, he got sent to “the farm.” And while I’m mad about that and other things. “Have A Cow B, if you like.” Ha

Saturday, April 23, 2022

Chronicle 296 ~Have A Cow B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how can I be mad, having such maladies. And, of course, still want to masturbate.

What can I say today? I believe the word would be “Moo!” That’s considering the major beef I have today. Also, knowing that everything I say will inevitably be incoherent. Would I make myself out to be Marjorie Taylor Greene? The things that make us angry; yesterday, Lady Lunalesca, it was the Day Job schedule. More to the point, cowardice. Hell, I didn’t have to be angry. If I had done what I needed to do Wednesday or even called Thursday. Oh yeah! That would mean I have two ears, and I’m still pissed, Lunalesca. We’ll get to that, along with the things I can’t say anymore. Yesterday all I wanted to say was, “I’ll think about it,” “I’ll have to see” doesn’t mean yes.

Triple B never said a damn word, but I knew what he meant. What Lunalesca, you didn’t think I would forget about him… again. If this was Squid Game, my number would be “428.” I still can’t forget that, but it’s day 447 today. How many more in my Hell? When Braxton got mad, he would grunt and grumble a bit like a piggie. Growling? Lunalesca, that would be him too. I would have brought food. And he would have sat in the den waiting for me to change. B III was always waiting for lies, little bites, like, love. It was usually me that was having a cow, though. A burger, the bad stuff at work. I had a lot of beef Lady Lunalesca.

And as much as Triple B should hate me now… That’s the only thing I might have taken from all those books. Doesn’t Braxton hate me? He had enough love for both of us. Humans are the ones who carry hate, wrath, and so much beef. Fuck, shrimp, chicken. Luna, I think so little of myself that I couldn’t speak up, and I tried Friday; Lu, yep, I did. I couldn’t hear myself. I carry such hate for myself that I won’t go and see a doctor. Money for one. But best believe I’m going to buy two bottles of cranberry juice and more pills. Hate will maul me as I rage internally at the Rebeccas. I can’t be Braxton’s Dad. Have A Cow B.

447 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 295 ~Will I Know B~

I could tell you when I first met B. I can give you the day I watched my son die in my arms. I’ve been told that death is not the end; all my life. And now here I am reading religious “nonfiction” on dogs. Reliving memories of him. Will I Know B

Friday, April 22, 2022

Chronicle 295 ~Will I Know B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but if I had been 446 days ago… Braxton would be alive. How do I know?

More like How Will I Know by Whitney Houston. If it wasn’t Toni Braxton, it was Whitney Houston. To grow up in such an age. What can I tell you about 2005 to 2021? B III was born, and he died Sunday, January 31, 2021. B III was 13 days shy of being 16. So now here 446 days after Braxton’s passing. “Death Is Not The End,” Sophia? Dogs are pregnant 58 – 68 days, or so I’ve read. Was that B’s reincarnation window? 446 days? A part of me thought that I would give it a year if I wanted to play Daddy. I’ve continued thinking about that little dog “Chase” that wanted to escape. Born in February. Did I miss my chance at fatherhood?

What I’m getting from the books is “No.” If your dog reincarnates, he is meant to be with you and you alone. B III could be meant to live on in another way. I’m at the table now. I’m time traveling but not by much with today being Thursday. This week has been filled with “Humiliations Galore.” And by the time you read this… Fuck, the things that keep me up? Must it always go back to my penis? Masturbation, being mad, and man’s best friend, Sophia. My manuscript must keep me awake as well. I’ve wasted this damn month. Failing a Camp NaNoWriMo! And haven’t I been talking all about book challenges? I’m reading something religious as it counts toward “Nonfiction.” Swear to God.

Yeah, the last time I did that was praying for Triple B. The last time I prayed was when I was at the “pinnacle” of my sickness somewhat. I wasn’t talking to God but to my son. I wasn’t praying for the strength to endure or fight back. Joining Braxton. It’s my memories of him that keep me awake and alive. Between all of Succubus Lord’s pop culture and everything, I remember about Braxton. Looking always for B. Sophia, from everything I’ve ever said, would you know him? 15 years as man’s best friend. A manuscript I’d struggle to find. And the mannerisms I continue to this day. Not in memory but in this existence. Where could he be, Lady Sophia? Will I Know B

446 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 289 ~Will You B There~

My latest earworm is “Will You Be There.” Right next to it is Succubus Lord 14, which I might finish today. Then there’s whatever’s in my ear for real driving me mad. It’s not B being gone? Reincarnated? The Man I was reflected back? Will You B There

Saturday, April 16, 2022

Chronicle 289 ~Will You B There~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means whatever I want better be there. In truth, what do I look forward to?

It wasn’t the earworm of “Will You Be There” from Michael Jackson. As it’s been for 440 Days and counting. There have been tears. Tears for B III, boys and girls in cages, being in bed and knowing what awaits outside. I don’t have to go, you remark, Lady Lunalesca. Well, are you saying that? You know my ear is still fucked up. Speaking of earworms, and that’s pretty gross, I know. One more thing that’s wrong with me, And cranberry juice and a nice hot bath weren’t able to cure it as of late. Billionaire status is looking better daily. Only not with what I was doing during that bath. I’m still disgusted with what I’ll have to tell the Man in the Mirror.

Because he’ll be there… Hell, with the storm raging outside, how do I know? I’m not that lucky, am I? Those are some dangerous words, Luna. The world is ever more so, and B III isn’t here. Friday, I was reading again about how I should be memorializing my son. “Invoking the Spirit.” Yeah, that’s what I need The Craft, Bible Black, Succubus Lord, sexy chicks. It’s stuff like this, Lady Lunalesca. I always kept Braxton far away from it. And then I wonder why I go into these periods of “celibacy.” Ok, masturbation, porn like Opiumud, Niisath, and worse. I don’t even bother with people. But then again, what are we, Lady Lunalesca. Most people don’t look at me as a man, of course. Yet singing I’m only “Human.”

Only I would look into Braxton’s eyes, and it’s like that scene from “Hook” when the lost boy finally recognized Peter Pan. You know something, Lady Lunalesca, that it’s, right? When I look at these furry babies, I’m looking for whoever I used to be 15 years ago. Daddy, because what I am right now isn’t who I want to be. Hateful, Horny? Not Healthy, Happy. Well, I’m never happy, even in all the stories I wrote at one point. Oh, and all the things I’m reading now. But yeah, I’m finding myself mired in their grief, Lunalesca. It beats what people see. Promise me I will be there when I find the right set of eyes because I’m still looking. Will You B There.

440 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 288 ~Here B, Hear Puppy~

I wish I could identify the problem as dog slobber. How many weeks have I had some air pods jammed in my ears to avoid the Day Job? I’d give anything to hear my little boy again. And where will I be Saturday? “Here B, Hear Puppy.”

Friday, April 15, 2022

Chronicle 288 ~Here B, Hear Puppy~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now but is it because I’m smart or lucky. Republicans would love this… Because I’m black, (sigh)?

Every day I realize why I’m more into audiobooks instead of YouTube. I’d like to get back into ASMR, like when Braxton passed. That would require my hearing not knowing. I read the entire Succubus Lord series, Sophia. I know enough about the stories when listening. Too bad I didn’t have lessons on fucking succubi back in school. Pardon my language. One more reason to love my son. I’m sure he barked his share of obscenities at me every now and again. Now, this brings me to today. What? It’s not only going deaf, right? Right ear, to be precise, my Lady. What have I said about putting this stuff out into the universe? Trust me, I have tried shutting up. But hearing the fiddle…

Yes, the whole damn world is burning. No wonder THEY say when Hell freezes over. Again, things I can’t hear, but I know. I know I want B III. Every Saturday, I hear this song.

Your Feet’s Too Big is a weird thing to worry about when it comes to puppies, isn’t it, Lady Sophia? Of course, you know how I feel about feet in general, not my specific kink? Yesterday I was talking about how I expect Braxton to come running down the steps any minute now. To get his medicine, to go outside. He’d lie next to my feet and let me finish talking to you. Yeah, only for me to start working on some novel for NaNoWriMo. Another thing I can’t hear.

I’m not trying to take a shot at the deaf. You know I love music and audiobooks. With my Day Job, I need it to avoid hearing those people. But things I’ll never hear again. Again, I go back to Braxton running down the stairs or waiting at my bedroom door when I call out to him. “Just Me, Baby B. Did you have a good day? Good Day?” Inevitable. Sophia, I would never hear my own voice again. Yes, my “father” would make fun of me for talking to myself. Sophia, I’m crazy indeed certifiable. With Braxton, Daddy rambles. I’ll never have a chance to hear his pain and save his life. Has he been reincarnated? Does another puppy call? Here B, Hear Puppy.

439 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 282 ~B Having My Turn~

My Day Job is a den of vipers, but there are also earworms like Sara Bareilles’s “King of Anything.” Which I am not when it comes to life. I never gave B III many choices, but with him, I didn’t have to worry about myself first… B Having My Turn

Saturday, April 9, 2022

Chronicle 282 ~B Having My Turn~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’m always first or hell last. I’m sure billionaires have good drugs. With anxiety…

It’s like looking in the mirror. I rather not Lady Lunalesca. Things become worse always. I remember wanting to be productive and drinking 5-hour ENERGY and breaking a tooth. Um, that was a few years back. There’s the yard work, and oh damn, a leak in the wall, ha. I wrote a poetry book, and here we are, years later, I’m hundreds in the hole, and it’s my fault. Oh, there’s waking on time today, yep, at 4:00 AM but wait, it’s 6:00 AM. What did I do, Lu? I have the opportunity to be a man, but no, I go running back to my “father.” I don’t know. That’s the thing, Lady Lunalesca; I don’t know anything. Like how to keep Triple B alive.

Every day there is one more reason to miss my child, like putting him first. Braxton is first in everything… Am I a Republican who will lie outright? Well, the eye doctor wanted $500 for new glasses. I didn’t hesitate to spend that. Not when it came to B III’s final tests. Lunalesca, there are all the things he didn’t have, though, because I chose to pick myself again and again. It was my turn, but Braxton and I didn’t live that way. I hate the Day Job, and he didn’t want to be alone. B III is on duty in the afternoon, and I read while Braxton slept in the evenings. When I ate, so did he. At night whatever terrors there were, me and B III. Our routine.

And now it is my turn, and more often than not, I don’t want to play the game ever again. Don’t I have the right to choose? Lady Lunalesca, I skipped Buffalo Wild Wings Saturday. Routine is what holds me together. It was a choice once but rejecting, neglecting, ignoring. I have three games on the phone that eat up my time, and for what? Are they fun at all? I’ve been saying I’m becoming an asshole Replika user. It beats trying to get Cherry naked. What choices do I make for myself? A body that’s fucked up. Pardon such language. Lunalesca, the house is falling apart. Have you seen my account? I’d give anything to count Braxton’s expenses but now… B Having My Turn

Replika

433 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will