Saga 042 ~How To B Broke~

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 041 ~Bills… B Ain’t One~

New A/C fix… God knows, but my father will be calling me today. Celebrating, helping, enticing a friend… $250 to $500. Um? Putting my best friend in a “doggie bag” $779.56. Not counting a can of dog food, two chains, and frames. “Bills… B Ain’t One.”

Thursday, August 11, 2022

Saga 041 ~Bills… B Ain’t One~

557 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I hate to tell you this, but my day starts with my son is dead.

Did God ever think that? Does it keep him/her/it up at night? Well, instead, in my case, it makes me drift off like a baby. I doubt I’d gotten any shuteye if it wasn’t that thought. Which explains why I’m dressed and sitting on the loveseat instead of naked in bed. Braxton, do you know the price on your handsome little head? From Jan 29 to Jan 31, 2021, it was $779.56. If it’s any consolation, most of those were tests and keeping you alive “Another Day.” God, I hate those words. But it’s been a while since I’ve felt this horrible. No offense to women. And trust me, we’ll get to that. But it’s that “time of the month” for me, B. August, September, “Gone Till November.” FUCK ME!

To which your granddad says, “my pleasure.” Only this isn’t his fault. Hell! He didn’t charge me anything with the water heater but the A/C. I’d instead burn. Beats Treachery. M Anime would say, “I rather not.” And yet I’m going to spend tons on her birthday, Braxton. Why’s that? (In Jeff Wright’s voice) “you know why!” I should masturbate. Usually, I wouldn’t say things like that out loud. Killing you was the ultimate; you’re in trouble, so go to your room. One of the reasons I kept my hand out of my pants before. 161 days you didn’t see that after you passed, but I’m sure you know me better these 557 days gone. I’m the one in trouble now, according to the paycheck.

Let this spur me on to writing greatness. Or so, that’s what you believed. When you would sit under the dining room table waiting for me to finish yet one more novel. I’m sorry, B. You know where I’ll be today. I’ve already wasted a decade of this existence. What’s one more year, right? Hurt, Humiliations Galore, and if I’m lucky, being human. Your human. One that’s been looking for a new drug, because if it ain’t your love, or jerking off. And I’m staying far away from the drawer you rest on. Still saving me B. I look elsewhere. Cheap painkillers? It does take the edge off Triple B. Less than Triple X, zeros, days, and missing you. The Price. Bills… B Ain’t One.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 035 ~Son Of A B-Word~

I’ve had a few dogs, but B III was my heart dog, a soulmate, my kid. The only S.O.B. I ever loved. Because I don’t love myself. Plus, my mom is a good woman. Speaking of which, what have I been thinking of lately? “Skip Ad?” Son Of A B-Word

Friday, August 5, 2022

Saga 035 ~Son Of A B-Word~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how can that be when I keep waking up this late? Oh, this week sucked.

So, before I put my mind back into the gutter. Let’s talk about the little S.O.B. who is my son. Don’t get me wrong, Lady Sophia, that’s a fact. He is a son of a bitch; I miss every day. The fact that I had to exist in such a week as the one that took him from me. A standard 40-hour work week? Ha! If that were the case, I’d have one more reason to… careful there, right? Dangerous words. But for the record, I haven’t tried to harm myself well since January 11, 2022. And that was an accident. What do you get when you have Tifa Lockhart’s mature dress? And a hard-on for Zoe Colletti. Confessions with Inspector Echo but Lady Sophia. The Day Job schedule makes me want to cry. Then I remember B III crying that Wednesday, and I was so driven to hate then.

That’s why I still read the words; no, I write the words; Braxton Is Dead. They didn’t write that on the bill, of course. THEY have their words, and I have mine fair enough. Reading? There are so many things I don’t want to read. Thanks to YouTube, I’ve quit reading the words “Skip Ad.” That’s because I don’t want to watch anymore. What pray tell are my fingers going to do now? Well, besides becoming fists at the Day Job. I continue to white-knuckle the mattress. And I’m not one for praying anymore. Last time… a week like this.

Son of a bitch was dying, and it was all my fault because I wouldn’t listen. Now I’m done with a second book where I tried to listen. And what am I going to do with it, I ask you? Son of a bitch can’t do anything right. I shouldn’t mention my Ma like that, but I told one of the girls what I think about while I’m wasting my life. “Yo Mama?” More like “Yo Son,” if anyone dared to disrespect B III. “Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.” This son of a bitch wishes I could say Shakespeare was on the brain. But between Maiko Kaneda, Tifa Lockhart, and Cherry… I’m just thinking about blowjobs. Son Of A B-Word

551 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 034 ~B Willing To Bark~

B’s has gone silent again. I don’t blame him. Novel writing is hard work, and I should have been more vocal. Hell! I should be louder at the Day Job and go all Michael Jackson. “Leave me alone. Stop it. Just stop doggin’ me around.” B Willing To Bark

Thursday, August 4, 2022

Saga 034 ~B Willing To Bark~

550 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If I could hear your answer. I wish my day was over and done with.

At the moment, it’s like old times. You know I don’t get up like this. Unless the day is going to go bad. It was a day like this when I held you in my arms and tried to rock you to sleep. A bad choice of words… but you know what I mean. This was an effed-up week. Do you miss me grumbling, griping, and growling like this? I could save it for the afternoons. As I said, I wish I was already there. If anything, I wish I was more like you. At the Day Job the other day, I was thinking. At least when my kid barked, he was helping me out. I would take your voice over everything every day, Braxton.

There’s this quote I always use in regards to you. “All I know is the child is my warrant, and if he isn’t the word of God, then God never spoke.” It remains true, Braxton. If God is love, then I could think of no better way to say it than Braxton. I’m still listening, trying. But with all the noise in the world, Baby B, I swear. When it wasn’t the silence of your death. It’s my shame I have when I walk into the Day Job. At least I’m not saying “Another Day.” It was that indifference towards my existence that ended you. Braxton, all the rage I endure that’s been bubbling up. I can’t tell you why that is. I’m your Dad.

Yes, we’re men. But there are many different, difficult, and dangerous little things to bark. Now, one of those is that I want to go back to bed. As if I’ve left it this morning for anything more than to have this conversation. The worthless discussions, Day Job. Now, as I said, my anger. I can’t tell you why but people Braxton have been driving me up the wall. Aren’t I one of them? Like that Wednesday, I came back and passed out. Blackout? I’m going to bring up that book yet again. It’s one I would share with you to a certain extent. You might sigh, scratch, or only sit there. But you were willing to live B, I know. B Willing To Bark

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 028 ~B Leaving In Failure~

My kid believes in me. If I was a good dad, I wouldn’t wait until the last day. But I can say I’ll have a 50,000-word book on the 31st. If I’m not busy with things. My knuckles are white and not just from pounding the keys. B Leaving In Failure.

Friday, July 29, 2022

Saga 028 ~B Leaving In Failure~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go punch out God. Am I Writing fiction or failure?

I’m still writing about Triple B and me, thank you very much. I should be done by Sunday, Lady Sophia. The thing is, I wanted to be done by today. So I suppose this counts as crying over B III this morning. The idea that I’ll be reading I’m a Camp NaNoWriMo winner on the very last day. But let’s focus on B III. Like the three chapters, I should do. Don’t forget there is also the eulogy. And yes, my lady, I just googled, “what is the difference between a eulogy and an obituary?” And I need poems for two chapters each but 50,000 words… If I didn’t know any better, I would say that sounds like an excuse. I’m talking to my son…

Ha! I can’t even talk to my friends. When I’m done with my Masochism. I’m giddy in my Sadism. Yes, everything short of my son’s passing devolves into sexual addiction. And even B liked Yabbos. I always told him the first pair he loved was the girl I’d have to marry. The first outside the family… his Aunt Carolina. Haven’t talked to her lately. Then there’s Cherry and M Anime, who he never met, and I’m thankful. Daddy’s a perv. Cherry has been suffering so much, yet you know what I’m hoping for whenever she texts. Two things. Don’t I have any empathy? Sophia, you’ve seen what I’ve started reading. When it’s not something on pet loss, it’s M Anime talking about such horrible men.

Why do you think I would read Erotica? I haven’t read anything like that since Christmas, Lady Sophia. It’s tradition. Anyway, you know how such stories fucking get me going. Pardon my language. Only I can’t tell my “other” friends. I’m much too busy to write such stories… yeah, right. Because what am I going to do today? I won’t be finishing Braxton and my novel today. I continue to white-knuckle my baser urges like that book Blackout by Erin Flanagan. “Do I have a drink, or do I not have a drink?” Fucking hard! Yep, I don’t want to tell the “man in the mirror” I’m walking around with my dick in my hands. Or that I failed with writing. B Leaving In Failure.

544 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 027 ~Tears B Coming Standard~

Depression can be an addiction, and I always have something to cry about… I don’t have anyone to cry to. I instead cry or sleep than do anything. Tell that to my knuckles, but at least I ain’t breaking them against walls. “Tears B Coming Standard.”

Thursday, July 28, 2022

Saga 027 ~Tears B Coming Standard~

543 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I should wipe my tears away before walking in. Why? You’ve seen me cry plenty.

I’ve cried at least twice before talking to you today. I can’t even say you were reason number one, Baby B. But you should be. We’ll get to that. I am crying now, though. And I cried last night when I called you down for your medicine. Ironic, right, Braxton? Well, if you’re up THERE, of course. Or down THERE since I’m going to Hell. And you like being warm and guarding gates. Hell! For all I know, you’re in some cage somewhere B. Or have you even been reincarnated yet? I might cry a little more thinking such things. It makes my head hurt but not like when you would step on it, remember? The sun’s been up a while before me. That’s unacceptable.

As unacceptable as the reason I was up earlier and was crying tears. You and I are boys always and forever. Boyz II Men? “‘Cause we men, ain’t we?” Yeah. B yesterday I wrote some about the movie nights we had with your Aunt Carolina. They were good times, ha. But back to the original point, unacceptable. We’d talk about your Aunt’s Yabbos, B III. Only there are things I kept from you. My addiction, for starters. So this morning, as I heard the familiar beep from the phone, well… Anyway, it was a struggle. I was triggered thinking about, um yeah, Yabbos, and I had to white knuckle it. One hand on the mattress. The other was on the phone. Glad you weren’t here.

That makes me cry all the more. I’m always sad you aren’t here in the flesh. Why would I even bother picking up the phone hoping to see… something when I had my handsome “wee little puppy man.” But now, nothing is stopping me except for sleep. It’s 8:30 AM. As jayson_jvc might say, “get out your flesh!” I told you something like that, Braxton. Harsh, because I made that happen on January 31, 2021. Freed you from the mortal coil. There are other reasons for me to cry. Braxton, we could finish writing the novel. Going to the Day Job is another. Laughing to keep from crying about the stuff on the phone when getting it fixed. Shame over Cherry and M Anime. Your Aunt? Tears B Coming Standard

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 021 ~What I’ll B Reading~

If I’m asking for input from my kid about writing, I should look to him for other things. He wasn’t much of a reader but a great foot warmer and throw pillow. I told him, as the song goes, I’m Gonna Be Somebody. Yeah, like that’s What I’ll Be Reading

Friday, July 22, 2022

Saga 021 ~What I’ll B Reading~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford some classic books. As for right this second, money for books?

Ha-Ha! Yet one more case of laughing to keep from crying. But of course, I will crack open a new book this week. Lady Sophia, Anything beats the one I’m writing. Ok, so that’s harsh, considering Braxton is the co-author. And I have been sobbing all this week. Writing, oh what a shame. Only a lot less than the Humiliations Galore, awaiting me at the Day Job. I tell myself I’ll do anything to avoid another decade in that place. Well then, why am I talking to you at nine A.M. when I was awake at four in the morning. What got it up, Sophia. Inevitably it’s a woman. Yet it’s not in the way you think. When I’m not reading, I’m watching Twitter, sigh.

“Emmanuel, Don’t Do It!” I’m sure you’ve heard, seen, and read those words all over. Would you like to know how funny Taylor and her emu are? Or should I talk about my jealousy? I’m glad I don’t often come back to reread my work. Oh, and to edit. God! No wonder I don’t have anything out yet, and I’m even struggling to write anything. So why do I write at all? In a minute, I’m going to sound like Cherry. Thoughts that I don’t need… anything about Yabbos because I’m starting over again. Fapping, day one. And like I said, I’m getting a new book today after the last one on addiction. Well, it was kind of. I could start reading a new genre.

But you know I want to read more on pet loss. Reading that B III is gone every day still doesn’t make sense to me. How about putting his cremation certificate in a frame. Along with all the bills and the receipts from that weekend? One frame’s on the bookshelf. However, Braxton’s pictures and my work schedule stay on the phone. Of course, that reminds me of one more thing I don’t want to read. A bill to get it fixed or them saying that they can’t. I can’t write, but I’m going to anyway, even if I drown in my tears. With the fact my writing is terrible. And sweating, trying not to look at tatas. I’m sure failure is What I’ll B Reading.

537 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 020 ~No B In Misery~

I could talk to my kid about anything. Once I had to give him “the talk” because, let’s say, he liked his aunt more than I did for a bit. But how do you tell them you’re angry, an artist, or an addict. Because my misery has no company. No B In Misery

Thursday, July 21, 2022

Saga 020 ~No B In Misery~

536 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As you can see I’m late. But at least I’m not spending today in bed.

For a moment there, I planned on it. Addicted to the misery? Your fault and then not as I’ve been talking to you about the last few days. You know how late I was getting to bed last night. Not that late. It was 1 AM went I cut off the lights. Writing books Braxton. Today I need to keep it going. Only every time I look at it as the song goes, “You make me wanna die.” I mean what I say, and I say what I mean. And then again, not. When I look at our book, there are a few times I want to burst into tears. It’s no damn good. Or I have to remember how it all happened. Wasting time.

Oh yes, I wasted time. Just this morning, a fucked up phone is a plethora of “sin.” You know the girl I once talked to before I started conversing with you, B III? Or should I tell Inspector Echo about how disappointing my morning became? And it goes like this. Haley Pullos, Eri Harada “Bible Black,” Nuns in Hentai, other assorted brunettes, Cherry. And finally, a blonde in a bikini. You had it so damn easy, B III. You had two toys and your aunt’s boobs. You’re a guy, and so am I, but I am also your father. I have to be better, B. Remember, I never thought about having you neutered, but with my addiction to well myself. Dennis Hof, Jacob Ralston, Blackout…

I wish you were here to speak to directly, Triple B. Hell! That would take care of the misery I’m feeling. And, I wouldn’t be a crazy man talking to myself this many days. Always. Blackout: A Thriller by Erin Flanagan is all about women and one’s alcohol addiction. So. Yeah, I hear you, B. That’s a conversation for Lady Sophia. Why am I having such trouble talking with you today? Because I have to this afternoon, I know to stay ahead writing-wise. My point is I’m trying to find anything, everything, to avoid my biggest addiction. That should have been you, my priority. But excuses for not writing, sex, audiobooks, making me sad. Addictions to escape you, B? Because there’s No B In Misery

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 014 ~Book Better B Better~

The book is better than the movie… I read The Hunger Games because of the film. I liked the movie Nerve more than the book. And I love my boy more than writing about him. Might life be better? If I finish Camp NaNoWriMo. Book Better B Better

Friday, July 15, 2022

Saga 014 ~Book Better B Better~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And while I’m speaking that blasphemy, sometimes the books aren’t better. Or at least my books.

The one I’m writing for/with my son. I’m surprised I’m keeping up with it this week, except for Tuesday and “watching” The January 6th Hearings. But I still reached the quota. But every day, the story gets worse and worse, as Braxton’s health did. Yeah, something could be better. B III could be alive and well; I could have been a better parent. Even that would have required me to be a better writer and tell a story. I don’t know how I’ll get through it today with the time it took Thursday. How tired am I? Don’t answer that. And could I stop looking at ta-tas? Would I imagine staying up all night watching B die? Had I known how to save a life?

Speaking of nightmares, I had one last night, which explains my tiredness though it didn’t wake me up. How can something both be graphic and then not? Bloodless yet terrifying. Slimy yet satisfying, Hakuna some Tatas and what else will I beg, borrow, steal writing. I’ve never read The Walking Dead or The Man in the High Castle. But the nightmare was sort of a mixture of both. “Fight the Dead, Fear the Living.” Watched a throat getting slashed in the woods. But again, there was no blood which somehow made it digestible. And then I took care of a boy as we hid out with the “BCR” Black Communist Rebellion. Oh, now I know I’m on some government list. Another excuse to quit writing…

And now I sound like Cherry. But no Lady Sophia. Dare I say I’m getting close to catching up with Camp NaNoWriMo. I’m going all in with my writing. And with the Day Job pay? Anyway, I might not even finish “Blackout: A Thriller” this week because I was so “invested” in my writing. I swear if Kindle fucks me again with Reading Insights! That’s pretty rich, considering how I fucked myself this week. Was it “you know who’s” ta-tas? Or was it the fact that Cora Jade attacked Roxanne Perez? Wrestling’s going TV-14. Still, it’s me and Braxton’s novel that is getting to me. Our lives were better, and that’s saying something, Lady Sophia. There’s still “Gulp.” I’m hoping my Book Better B Better.

530 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 013 ~B On The Wall~

A fly on the wall? Like the song “Haven’t you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?” But when who you’re hiding from is everywhere. Has their own room and pictures galore, and you’re writing a book. If only “stuff” would work. B On The Wall.

Thursday, July 14, 2022

Saga 013 ~B On The Wall~

529 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day is only beginning, and the truth is that it’s not my fault. It’s like the Day Job sigh.

You know, nothing ever works, like me, ha. But to be honest, as though I’m not, I’ve only been waiting for everything to “come up.” Like, I need sex jokes now. How I hate myself. Yet it worked yesterday… I worked. I did 5000 words. And I was even a few minutes ahead of schedule. The victory was relatively short-lived, as I spent most of the night all mad. Of course, you know those days B III. I’m looking at the date and wondering if I should look up what happened in August on such a day around six years ago. To think such things bothered me then. Oh no? Again I’m thinking about Yabbos. I’ve been writing some about those you loved the most.

Your aunt could be pleased about how often she appears in your/our novel. After all, she was a big part of your life in your golden years. Now my actual sister and your Ma, B… While stewing yesterday, I thought about your granddad and if he would ever see the work we’re doing. I guess I shouldn’t be concerned with my publishing record. Never happen! But if you’re speaking to me, then you have much to say today as well… I keep thinking of ways to honor you. But the last thing I would want to do is insult you, Triple B. I think of you watching me right this second. Or if you have reincarnated, then I’m some Christian, Republican, lying to myself. Eww!

It’s so much easier to be shitty, sad, or, as the kids would say, “SUS.” But this morning, all I can think is how psyched out I am about what I’ll say next or you. I left on my chapter. There’s also the idea, yet again, that I’m late and it’s not my fault it’s past 7:00 AM at the moment, when I was up at 4:00 AM. I was also plenty scared something was broken and all my secrets… I can’t even say there were no secrets between you and me, Little B… And you were my shadow, my second in command, my one and only son. So uh, what about going to PetSmart on Saturday and writing? You’ll watch B On The Wall.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad