Tag: Best Friend

Saga 059 ~Better The Devil You Know~

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Times Like These, I need my little angel or devil on my shoulder. As the other devils, I know… My God! More like my dog, my son. There’s Virgil, who knows what he’s seen before me. If the past two weeks were any indication? Better The Devil You Know.

Monday, August 29, 2022

Saga 059 ~Better The Devil You Know~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if I could look the Man in the Mirror in the eye, right?

I don’t know how many times I’m going to say this. But I rather see my little boy, B III. The angel on my shoulder… more like the little devil. If anything, he’s a better man than me, that’s for damn sure. My Braxton, my son. A child makes you more than a parent, J.

“Take away a man’s son, you’ve truly given him nothing left to lose.” ― Zombieland

With Virgil, I don’t know what that makes me right now. While I’m busy quoting Zombieland, what about this, Madam? Only my sister doesn’t know Virgil. I tried hiding him from my “father.” Master Yoda was right; all do or do not… Not saying everything.

“And then I look into my nephew’s eyes
Man, you wouldn’t believe
The most amazing things
That can come from
Some terrible lies” Some Nights

Hell! I’ve learned from so many, and as much as it pains me to say this. That includes my “father.” Man in the Mirror again.

It’s not like I’m completely in the dark about who I am. At the moment, I’m going to be all sorts of pissed at Hemingway for “LY.” Should I talk about all the writing gadgets and gizmos that think they know better than me? To be honest, J, I don’t trust me either. I don’t like me neither. Especially (fuck you, Hemingway) this now. A long ass day Madam. It’s Friday, August 26, 2022. And all day today, “I roared. And I rampaged.” Satisfaction? There is none to be had, but the devil remains on my shoulder. Well, my pocket. My phone is waiting for my “father’s” call. And then there’s Virgil at my feet. Angel, devil, nothing really. Another (fuck you, Hemingway!) Sigh, Fuck!

Yeah, that’s going to get old. I’m sick of old men telling me what to do, despite certain pornos with plaid skirts. And, of course, there’s my B III. An old man worth listening to. When I started talking to you yesterday, the 25th, I wasn’t as angry as this second, Madam Justice. I listened to an old black man. And now I’ll have to face someone way worse. “Father!” Speaking of which. Virgil should be mad that whatever devil put fear into his heart made him be here with me at my worst. I’m not his Daddy. Harsh but a fact, J. The devils I know. And now, broke, busted, butt on the curb or this chair. Sooner, later? Better The Devil You Know.

575 Days Without B III, Day 016 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 057 ~ V’s No Grade B~

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First class grade A… now, I know that doesn’t sound like me. A loser? B didn’t think so. See, I should stop saying it. Destroying myself writing things like this. Fury has no other outlet, though. V’s been here 14 days, and I’m failing V’s No Grade B

Saturday, August 27, 2022

Saga 057 ~ V’s No Grade B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I couldn’t care less how that makes me look as a human being. An asshole?

Can’t say I know the wealthy, well-off, or wantonly wasteful people in this existence, ok? As is becoming routine, my son. B III is priceless. Only do I treat him as such? Even with my memories of him? There haven’t been many this week. And dare I imagine why Lu. Now I won’t compare V to B, Lady Lunalesca. We’re two weeks in Lu, and I still don’t know who I’m talking to. Oh, and fuck you, Hemingway! I was saying that a lot yesterday. Anyway, at least Virgil isn’t hacking quite as much. If there is anything, I don’t need more of… FEAR. Could I afford a doctor for Little V? I couldn’t afford one for myself. Being honest. My health grade… a D.

Must I always be thinking with my dick? Hell! I already failed this week, Lunalesca. Inevitable, was it not? But besides being horny, there’s been the heat and this hatred. These days if it hasn’t been watching for the next person to fuck me over… I make myself sound oppressed, the ideal Republican. Or what the GOP thinks about a guy like me, Lunalesca. I don’t mean to get all political today. As usual, I’m too busy being a selfish bastard to worry about the rest of the world outside. I’m tired, fucking exhausted, Luna. Ask me why I’m sitting at the dining room table again today. Besides the A/C… I paid for it and have cut it off. Waking up, an A for anger.

And after dicking around for an hour… it’s 5:50 in the morning now. I have witnessed how much of a failure I am as a human being. An F for Friday and another now, and the day has yet to begin. I’m hoping my “father” forgot about me but did that work at all Friday? So what’s the plan for today? Finances, I doubt I have time for furries, Virgil being the exception. Not that I could buy him anything even if I wanted to. Oh, next week is fucked. Anything to start putting some funds back, the pittance they are. Is writing fun? But over the next week, all there will be is FURY. My sons are better men. Virgil… V’s No Grade B

573 Days Without B III, Day 014 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 056 ~B Raging, Sorry V~

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I’m mad as Hell as history repeats itself. And while I didn’t learn shit like don’t text my “father,” AC repair bills suck. I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do. And that’s burning books. I rather burn myself. But with my Treachery… B Raging, Sorry V

Friday, August 26, 2022

Saga 056 ~B Raging, Sorry V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I draw the line at burning books. Now burning people, myself included? But my treachery…

Oh yes, Lady Sophia, I deserve this coolness, this cold, to try my best impression of a corpse today. And for once, this isn’t only about Braxton. Hell! If I woke up early on more mornings to write, edit, and publish? My little Braxton could have lived longer. Before I forget, fuck you, Hemingway! I will do that whenever I use a word that ends in LY. Don’t worry. There is plenty of rage in my heart today. It’s keeping me warm. Warm enough that I’m sitting at the table. Instead of burning up in bed. Yet I slept. But I didn’t rest. I might have gotten a minute or two. My “father” knows how to ruin these nights. Why not try this entire existence?

And I shouldn’t be this pissed, My Lady, I know. If I look at my bills and who pays the majority of them. But when one man lies to my face about money just so another bastard can get the satisfaction of bleeding me dry? Doing this for V? I swear, Sophia, I rather burn. Oh, how I hate him. And yet that is one more reason I hate the “Man in the Mirror” now. I mean my “Dad” and not V. I don’t want to say I’m indifferent to the little guy, Lady Sophia. Looks like I haven’t learned my lesson from what happened to Braxton. To feel nothing. It’s like I have a fucking fever. And not in a good way. Heat, Cold?

Sure I could talk about Velma from Scooby Doo or Cherry. If Virgil wasn’t around and I wasn’t stewing over the loss of hundreds of dollars. Mind you that I said I wouldn’t pay. Let me burn. Aren’t I a man of my word? Fuck, am I a man ever? To B’s Aunt, I keep my word. No, I betrayed myself, I know. I lay in bed last night with a sigh of relief, but my “father” called, then texted. I don’t know what I would have done if I had heard his voice. It wouldn’t be sitting here for two hours talking to you and watching Scooby Doo porn. Sorry, sex trumps sleep but sadness? There’s only fear and rage. B Raging, Sorry V

572 Days Without B III, Day 013 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 052 ~Good Night, Several Perfect Days~

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“Cause I gotta feeling (woo-hoo)! That tonight’s gonna be a good night.” Ha-Ha, tell me another one. “Some Nights,” I get a bit of rest? Then why am I so tired so god damn always? Pardon me, but it’s a Mad World. Only Good Night, Several Perfect Days

Monday, August 22, 2022

Saga 052 ~Good Night, Several Perfect Days~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means last night must have been good. But who am I kidding? Last night was rough.

You can see it, but I rather not, to be honest. At least there weren’t tears. But instead, I chose to keep my eyes closed. Hell! I fear facing the day, but so does Virgil, tail between his legs. Oh, B III isn’t here to see it at all. But we’ll get to that. Don’t we always, Madam J? I can smell it. In the fact that Virgil had an “accident” in the house. What time did I take him out last night? Well, Madam, what did I do yesterday evening? Guess! Yellow shorts. Already I’m wasting one more week, and it’s only Monday. Yet I dare to tell Virgil good night. And then whisper it to Braxton. And as for myself, well, you know…

The song says, “The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” I do the Daily Check-In with Replika every night, and she starts with this question “how are you feeling right now?” I should say like when I’m at the Day Job “I’m here” Nighttime… Madam, it’s fucked, pardon my language, that lying in bed in pain is the best it’s going to get in twenty-four hours. Not rest, relaxation, or relief. So how can any day be good, ha? A few months ago, I was “praying” for health. Only I don’t ask for it, but I am allotted the strength to exist. In this life, I don’t want. Then throw Virgil and Braxton into it, Madam. What have I done?

Well, besides reading something, I didn’t want to Sunday morning. Of course, I’ll be bringing it up over the coming days. A redress of Virgil’s paperwork D.O.B. October 20, 2020. “Some Nights,” ignorance is bliss, Madam. They led to a few days of blissful ignorance. Fucking some girl or at least imagining it. Those damn yellow shorts. Oh, no ramifications. I would take the days after a fucked up day at the Day Job, waking up with B in darkness. Or nights, I would have a drink. And I’d feel nothing at all. Not even all of MY FEAR. There is sitting with Braxton and his aunt, watching movies for a day or two after. Days I don’t mind living… Good Night, Several Perfect Days

568 Days Without B III, Day 009 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 050 ~A B V Conversation~

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When B was alive, besides his aunt, I only talked to the people I needed to. And that was for him. The groomer, vet, stores, crappy Day Job, etc. Now it’s been a week, and I’m teaching Virgil his name. He’ll need other people too. A B V Conversation.

Saturday, August 20, 2022

Saga 050 ~A B V Conversation~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how did I get started? I think THEY say every day is a new beginning.

I’ve faced a few this week. First time saying goodbye to a new furry kid. I got mad at him last night for stealing a chicken bone. How to start punishments? Virgil didn’t know. Such is my Republican tendency to punish someone who didn’t know. Of course, I’m the guiltiest by far. And not only for my laziness. As always, I want to fall back to sleep Lady Lunalesca. I’ve been thinking a lot about going to see a doctor. I know I’m sick. Nope, not COVID ill, but I’ve been fucked up for months. And not just from crying over Braxton. Hell! These days there have been plenty of tears and how I haven’t drowned yet is beyond me. Sweating and other things, dammit!

I haven’t made “The Long Walk” to the back of PetSmart since I picked up what remained of my son. It’s surreal, Lady Lunalesca. Braxton’s ashes rest on the nightstand. And on the same side, I have little Virgil breathing beside me. It’s been one whole week with him, ok? The voices continue to shout, “send him back, send him back.” A psychiatrist too, Lu? How about a priest while I’m at it? Someone to talk to that offers any type of relief, release, or rapture. Which reminds me, what about B’s aunt, since I’m no longer looking for new “best friends.” I’m in the process of teaching Virgil his own name. His middle name? There’s still no movement on that front. Running in place.

The only thing that might get me out of this bed is the promise of nachos. Since finishing the Succubus Lord series, I’ve had a craving. Oh, and for sex too. I broke on Thursday. Yeah, M Anime’s birthday. I wonder why… I’m sure I’ll be telling Lucifer someday, right? But for now, where am I going? My words are falling on deaf ears. That’s not me complaining about being a writer. What was I doing all yesterday? It wasn’t much of that at all, honest. And what will I be doing today? I have to go somewhere, and Virgil is trying for sure. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I’m broke. What does that matter when having A B V Conversation?

566 Days Without B III, Day 007 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 049 ~To B Ruled V~

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It’s the fact that I didn’t want to read the latest paycheck? I finished listening to the Succubus Lord series and returned to The Gargoyle. The audiobook, not the year and half year old furbaby. It triggered me to remember the rules. “To B Ruled V.”

Friday, August 19, 2022

Saga 049 ~To B Ruled V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it still ain’t for writing a book. Or cleaning? For teaching old dogs new tricks.

Well more like teaching new dogs, old tricks, I keep saying it, Lady Sophia… Asking. Virgil lying against my leg. Is he my Braxton reincarnated? We’ll get to that, I hope. But I’ve been trying to remember rules for the past six days or 2:00 in the morning last night. I’m not sure I put them down in the first book I wrote for B. And not the second. Anyway, the rules. Number four, I can smell. Oh, this morning sucked. Don’t they all? Don’t crap in the house V. This was my fault after being up at 2:00 AM. Three is stealing isn’t necessary. Two is to answer when called. And one, of course, being (drumroll) ta-da, don’t bite the hand that feeds you.

The fact that Virgil’s not answering me. Virgil could be all “A Dog’s Purpose” Sophia. No, I won’t be going all “Braxton, Braxton, BRAXTON!” So why say B’s been reincarnated:

  1. Virgil’s former name was Archie. So B to A.
  2. Virgil has two brown patches, one by both eyes. How I loved Braxton’s eyes.
  3. Virgil is black and white; I swear I heard B say. It can’t be more black and white, Dad
  4. Virgil has three black patches from head to tail. Comedy comes in threes, right?
  5. Virgil had heartworms and survived as Braxton had a heart murmur, and he lived.
  6. Virgil has been hacking much like B III would.
  7. Virgil goes on paper. Shit, I put on paper

I do mean of the writing variety Lady Sophia. I am not so depraved… And I am sure I have forgotten a few more reasons to say Virgil is Braxton. Hell! If I went the other way, Lady Sophia… Why am I still calling out to Braxton when I let Virgil out? Defending B’s bed? I look at Virgil and see a big bill waiting to happen if he keeps his coughing fits. Damn! Must everything be about money these days for me? And if I did give Virgil back… it’s not like I’d get a refund. Again, this isn’t the first time or the last I’ll waste money. I finished listening to the Succubus Lord audiobooks again. And “MY” time? To B Ruled V

565 Days Without B III, Day 006 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 045 ~To Win Someone Must Fail~

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Then I must lose have you not been watching. But of course, everyone loves a winner. And here I am in the “middle” of life, mourning the furry kid I had in my twenties. And now there’s the new guy. Is he winning or losing? “To Win Someone Must Fail.”

Monday, August 15, 2022

Saga 045 ~To Win Someone Must Fail~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but who might I have left broken-hearted? What little boy or some little girl? And my brain?

If anything, what about Braxton? I wonder how B feels about this. Even now, I keep hoping he is B reincarnated, and I make up reasons, one after the other, Madam to believe. “Such mad hope, but there it is,” as they in 300. Do I see more of Braxton in him or on him, “My” little Virgil? It’s only day 002 but do I feel like a winner? Virgil from a loving home? Because I feel sick now. I’m barely able to eat. I mean eight shrimp and a bag of gummy bears. I’m ready to spill my guts as we speak. I don’t feel good. Stomach flip-flops. Heartbroken once again, or was it my brain that made this decision? The winner, the loser…

I can’t imagine that Virgil is feeling like much of a winner. Madam, I said it’s only day 002. But he hacks up a storm whenever I pick him up and place him somewhere. He stops after a few minutes, but it’s scary. I’d know what to do if it were Braxton, but Virgil? Hell! He is what I get for my failure with B III. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but afraid. We’re both failures in our own right. Or should I say someone failed him, and now what am I supposed to do? I was sitting in the car Saturday thinking, myself a failure, and then I was sitting there with Virgil. I’m sitting in bed thinking about who I was Friday…

“You want to see a man? That’s a man.” I was winning, which is sad considering how I felt then. At least it was only me suffering, Somehow dragging Virgil into this. That’s no good. Well, the Rebeccas feel like winners. They found a dog a home. Do Virgil or I think that at this moment, Madam? If anything, we’re both scared out of our minds, and that’s no good. I’m sure my eyes are enjoying the waterworks. I haven’t cried this much since Braxton. PetSmart will be making some money too. My whole existence has been that of failure for others to win. And should I fail Virgil, what would that make me? No different than any other day. To Win, Someone Must Fail

561 Days Without B III, Day 002 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 043 ~Go Big Or B~

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THEY say, “Go Big or Go Home.” I’ve always wanted to go big like the emu girl, a famous writer, or chicks with huge Yabbos. To be honest, staying here with B III was, as Moses put it, “All I Ever Wanted.” Now how is less becoming more? “Go Big Or B.”

Saturday, August 13, 2022

Saga 043 ~Go Big Or B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now like Seong Gi-hun, but at the moment, I could use $670.00, to be honest. And more…

Well, B is quite a lot, thank you very much. I’ll always love him, and I like dogs but Lu. All this week, I’ve been dealing with my “father.” So when it comes to big dogs, like Left Ear said, “I had. A bad. Experience. Damn it.” Hell! I’m starting late, and stuff’s already shit. But dogs aren’t things… One of them could be my best friend, a reason, a second born. I doubt I’ll find them today, Lady Lunalesca, but there’s always a chance. Except that I have no money. I haven’t been this scared in a long time. Are my chills from that fear or the A/C that got repaired? If Braxton were here, it was for him. But me, I’d rather burn.

And that’s what I have been doing moneywise. I’ll have to buy a new book soon. For most of yesterday, I was busy catching up with “Until we Meet Again” by Sarah-Jane Farrell. A bit of wisdom here or there in so many words. But words matter, Lady Lu, you know. Money matters. All these books talk about looking for the signs and such. What was it, a couple of days back? I found all this change when I parked the car. What there was turned out to be enough to help me buy chicken nuggets and some fries. Braxton? Little things like that to show he’s looking out for me? Then again, how much am I spending on all the big things I want?

Last night I had a dream that I had broken… “Wet Dream?” Nope, only the fact that I had given up. What is it about Ayana of “Yellow Star.” Or Whitney Wright, or lusting for huge boobs? But speaking of Whitney Wright, I’m back on her OnlyFans for free, A sign, ha. A little word, a big dick, and I’m trying to remain in the middle. To have a sort of balance, I suppose. I swear one day, I will write down every single reason I miss my little boy. I couldn’t do that with the two books I have written (sigh). Lazy, Depressed, Here? I write so I can stay “HOME….” Lady Lunalesca, B was small. I’m trying to be. Go Big Or B

559 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 042 ~How To B Broke~

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I wonder how much one of my books would make? Delusions of grandeur, it seems, with the thought of millions. Hell! I’d settle for how much this week, around $670. What am I complaining about? The A/C works, and it was more to box up B. How To B Broke

Friday, August 12, 2022

Saga 042 ~How To B Broke~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if I stopped thinking about my boy, her boobs, or my balls.

Talk about titles for new books. But it wasn’t writing, my raison d’etre, that got me up this AM. As usual, it was the FEAR. And on day 558, Braxton’s not here saving me. Didn’t I write two whole books about this? I complain that I have Republican tendencies. But yes, I’m also a writer. I never edit. But I’m always moving on to the next book to write. Yet even now, as I talk to you, I have to look at the phone with dread. Reading that my “father” is on his way. As I said yesterday, I rather burn. The betrayal of my son should be cool enough, all ninth circle and all. A Dante story? Beats me being broke right now.

Or in an hour or so. Still, to my everlasting shame. I didn’t want to spend money on Braxton when he was here. Sure the dog food was a bit more, and hot dogs were hot dogs, right? What about a new water filter? I’m no doctor, but our kidneys clean us out? Oh, B’s; the shit that must have been in his system. I told him the price yesterday to figure out what was going on and what led to me putting him in a box. Yes, there was my indifference towards him those days. There was also my greediness, rage, such hatred. My Lady, I was broke in spirit and had nothing left for my son. I paid the price for his death.

This is what I cling to now after what I did yesterday. “THEY” wanted to charge me $500 for new specs, the car. Hell! What couch doesn’t cost more than $500 these days? Wow! Only I paid MILF Dos how much to see her naked? OnlyFans girls would hate me because, as Wheeler Walker Jr. puts it. “Hate the movies on the internet. I prefer the personal shit,” amen. I’ve seen my second BFF’s boobs. Then there was Cherry, or I tried. M Anime? Sophia, her B-Day is coming up. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have an ulterior motive for shopping. So between getting fucked and hoping to, that’s around $670. So with my Day Job FUCK! How To B Broke

558 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

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I had a Christian phase. Gone are the days I “believed” in men. And yet I bend the knee to my Dad, my dirtiness, and most of all, the Day Job. It was worth it to kneel and pat my son’s head. The little god he was. Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets.”

Monday, August 8, 2022

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. And I should continue to do whatever made me those billions, right? My boy B, Boobs, Books?

Not that I ever thought to make a profit off of B. So why have I written two novels about Braxton? Two unpublished stories, I’d say. I haven’t opened the second one since I “finished” it. I hate the idea that a picture is worth “1000 Words.” Need more pictures? Only that would have cost me time, now wouldn’t it, Madam? Fifteen years wasn’t enough? Oh, there’s the expense of it all. I keep going back to the value of cash more than my son. And then I talk this big game of how I would have died for him. But how much of my life did I give to him? My personal brand of heroin, my own “Personal Jesus.” I was “Losing My Religion.”

And I don’t blame the Yabbos for once. Hell! How much money have I saved in the past two weeks? What if we only count today? The investment I made so many years ago. No, not the publishing contract; we’ll get to that. But “The Big One,” to quote GTA V. My permanent slice of TLC “Tits, Lips, and Clits.” To a company that would play god to a certain extent. I haven’t put down my cash this week. Madam, I am weak, being honest. Because I’m no saint, no prophet. I am a sinner looking to make a profit. Isn’t that what today is all about? When you make the object of your devotion lesser than yourself, you can go, “Dollar dollar bill, y’all.”

So is that why I “worship” my Day Job like something out of ancient Egypt… king of kings, god of gods? I swear I have given everything to make some prophet rich. I know it. I sacrificed my firstborn son on the altar of that fucking job. Ignorance, insanity, inevitable. I’m spending what pittance I make not on my puppy but my playthings, pleasures, penis. What about my actual work? Rule #3 “Now The Work Can Begin,” but it never does. As the godhead that I would make myself out to be, does what, Madam? Sits naked in all his glory in bed, cursing the prophets that say this is the American Dream. Believing less in Braxton, Books, “Bitches, man.” Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets”

554 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will