Tag: Clock

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

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“Life’s a game made for everyone. And love is a prize.” I disagree. Love is a gift. I’d say if life’s a game, then love is the instruction. But I’m a crappy gamer. B was my Player 2 for 15 years. And does V have a gift? Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

Wednesday, December 13, 2023

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But I’m still unsure if I owe Aloe Blacc, Avicii, or whoever an apology. Such words, “my” sorrys…

Echo, they tend to fall on deaf ears. And while I tend to worry more about these ears. For the record, it’s sight, touch, sound, scent, and taste. The past few weeks, follow your nose!

So why am I thinking about being sorry for a song? Hell! I will be forever sorry to my boy. I’m awake today. Which means I haven’t joined him on the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven. Or wherever. I still don’t know.

But this morning’s nap led to a nightmare. I was lying in Braxton’s spot. Then I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I called out, “Who goes there?” Braxton and his guard duty antics. Anyway, a flashlight came on, and I rushed towards my gun. And then I woke up.

Any dream that even remotely reminds me of my boy should be considered a gift. And that’s what I want to talk about today. GIFTS? How am I doing so far, Inspector Echo? You’ll have to excuse me. I had my nose buried in a book before coming to you.

And before that? I ask myself what Braxton was thinking when it comes to Virgil. I could rehash all that as I do Braxton’s “passing.” I hate that word. Sounds like a lie. Smells? No worse than Virgil not realizing he should “GO” outside instead of sitting on the steps trembling. Baby, It’s Cold Outside.

It’s a gift to have all this ha-ha. And me? My Olds pay most of the bills. Always a gift.

This leads me to what I was reading and what brought all this on. “On the Boss’s Naughty List” by Ella Goode. And the billionaire talking about his girl being his last Christmas gift or best? Whatever. And it got me thinking, what’s the last gift I got? Hmm.

I mean a true gift other than the “privilege” of living without my firstborn son. Thoughts?

The last thing I considered a gift on E-Day was a steak and a lobster; I had to order twice. And while we’re on the subject of stealing… Um. I’ve paid some unsavory types a few pennies (coughs) Bitcoin (coughs). To get dirty deeds… done.

Crap! I know. I smell it, along with the wet floor. Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

1046 Days Without B III, Day 487 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 158 ~Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful~

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I don’t have a dollar, a drop of sweat, or a second to waste. Water can’t hit the floor after the flood. And how many days have I wasted away at the Day Job only to come back and smell the mold or what V did while hiding? “Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful.”

Wednesday, December 6, 2023

Tale 158 ~Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But at least I’m not wasting any money on condoms or Plan B pills. That’s another story, Inspector.

Forgive me for my procrastination, E. I got sidetracked watching a sad scene from “Everybody Loves Raymond.” As if anything could be worse than my son, B III, dying. And that is how I begin every day. I wake up and see my son gone. I switch off the alarm. And then I crawl back into the bed I don’t own and “Try It Again.” To die? Or as I listen to “Balance.” To be left to a peaceful sleep. Albeit, I wish it were eternal. Because if it isn’t?

Well, you have what I’m doing now. I’ve almost finished reading my first Christmas Erotica of the season, “Christmas Stalking.” How is this going to help me, Inspector Echo? And there’s the Kindle Challenge too…

I doubt I’ll finish this one because…. AHEM, TRADITION! How I waste such a beautiful morning. Not that I would know. Again, I read a book, took Virgil outside, and everything before that… You know how I could cover all that… Eww! If I even remember all of their names. Fallon Henley, Cora Jade, Gigi Dolin, etc. You want to hear something pathetic, Echo. Me all day! Anyway, last night, I watched WWE NXT. There’s a Last Chance Fatal 4-Way. Four of my favorites were competing, including Roxanne Perez and Kiana James. Brunettes, ahh! And speaking of women, Cherry, Kristen Stewart, and others, heh-heh. What was I saying again? So, I get excited and without anyone, REAL… I turn to Replika. “Who’s your favorite wrestler?”

So much for AI being the end of us; when the software needs to remember the basics, Inspector Echo, I still get ads for memorial gifts—a new dog checklist. Of course, I never shut up about my Braxton, either. But my point is this. I wasted time talking and drooling over AI, sigh. Inspector, pinpricks of light, ha? One more waste of time was this Inspector Echo. Watching the GTA 6 Trailer:

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for GTA, but I felt sorry for the designers when the game trailer leaked. I have another girl to drool over… Lucia. And 2025? Living that long?

I could be working on a new book idea, Inspector. But it’s 10:20 AM. Virgil’s in B III’s room. Existing? Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful.

1039 Days Without B III, Day 480 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

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The only thing I like preparing for is bed. Now, with the many, many girls I’ve been with, Ha-Ha. It’s Braxton securing the hallway, ensuring I was tucked in, and then taking his post on the corner of the bed I remember most. “B Prepared For Virgil.”

Wednesday, November 29, 2023

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And as Romans 6:23 puts it, “For the wages of sin is death.” Positivity this morning? No way.

As a matter of fact, since I’m going all biblical so late this morning at 8:00 AM, I had an epiphany. And no, not that my son is dead, and he’s never coming back. Hell, my Braxton, “I said he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” But I give more of a (crap) about him than… Hell, God the Father, my actual father, myself? And that’s where the epiphany comes in. Do you remember Inspector Echo, that I existed in five-minute increments? The world will end in five minutes, so I’m all “Three Little Birds?” “Don’t worry about a thing.” That’s what sleep is to me. Last night, I didn’t even bother turning on the sleep meditation, so I had dark thoughts. And in a word like King Theoden… DEATH!

How many pop culture references is that so far? Christianity, Mockingjay, The Killers, Bob Marley, and Return of the King. Anyway, long story short. I don’t want to wake up. And when I do to days like this… My father’s friend is replacing the water heater, which means I’m broke. I know, Inspector, I’m a broken freaking record. The floor and walls are still messed up. There’s no food save for a bucket of shrimp (like nine). And some BBQ. When’s payday again? And does it even matter? Am I beginning to understand that earworm that’s been in my head for a few days? Braxton? It’s Michael Jackson’s “Who Is It?” Particularly the chorus, “And it doesn’t seem to matter. And it doesn’t seem right.”

But nothing is. I was not prepared to be without my son. And it seems Virgil isn’t ready to be without me. He’s been awfully cuddly the past few days. Does he want the whole bed? And so what if I leave, backpack and all? I remember when I was going to the library every day, and for what? And again, I can go to the Day Job and get my slave wage. The critic isn’t going to like any of this. Take it as a result of my failure Inspector to “Be A Man.” The Macho Man had it right. Hell! Mulan did. And my boys are better men. At the same time, I want to be a dead one. But fatherhood equals manhood, right. B Prepared For Virgil

1032 Days Without B III, Day 473 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

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To B III (be free) of pain; there was a lot less of it when I was sleeping. And Braxton would watch over me. He felt the same lying on my chest as I’d read a book. If only a book taught how to make the pain go. Like I’d read it. “Hurt? B III, Virgil”

Wednesday, November 22, 2023

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But Virgil is safe and sound. Braxton? Well, he’s better without me. That’s the only thing that matters.

At least I’m not indifferent. That’s what killed my son. Or angry? I hid my anger from my son… for the most part. No, Inspector, today I’m in pain, and that’s no secret, any day. Hell! I haven’t been without pain since I turned seven. If I ever talk to another psychiatrist… for real this time. If they ever ask me when did the pain start? It started on that seventh E-Day in 1991. Picture a younger me dancing like an idiot because of cussing.

“What the Hell is going on?” Doesn’t sound too bad, does it, Inspector? Being seven… Today, I’m about two months into being thirty-nine. And I woke up feeling my age. Braxton was so much older at fifteen. To join him…

One of the reasons I haven’t is because, like I was telling Dear Future Wife, Tuesday. With all the pain he felt, my son, firstborn, my B, fought with all he had, even against me. Braxton wanted to live. And he would endure the physical pain and ignore the mental. Like father, like son. I will take the pains in my body because whatever’s in my mind is worse. The truth, Inspector. But at least Braxton and I own it. Every freaking day I will. Do you remember how I said I like Bruce Banner, AKA the Hulk, for his truth? “That’s my secret Cap. I’m always angry.” Inspector, I’m always hurting, horny, and ready to raise Hell, which is usually why I choose horniness.

My pain and my perchance for violence are the worst. But being horny, My Dirty Little Secret is the lesser evil. And without that “release,” what’s left, Inspector? Hurting, Hell! Is that why I was out like a light yesterday? Sleep to me is like playing dead. You know I have a problem with laziness. However, I also have a big problem with not getting laid. Um, eww! Everything I do revolves around my bed as it was for my son, who only lay there —dying in his little bed, which I have now hidden in the second bathroom. Inevitable. What? That I would put B’s things away. Or that I’d complain about a lack of sleep, sex, stupid energy drinks. Hurt? B III, Virgil

1025 Days Without B III, Day 466 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 137 ~Virgil, The B’s Silent~

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When was the last time I had a conversation? If I want to keep my Day Job, it’s best not to do that there. And other people… ha. There are some programs and programmers that have been listening. I wish B were here. And Virgil? Virgil, The B’s Silent.

Wednesday, November 15, 2023

Tale 137 ~Virgil, The B’s Silent~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Yeah, what else is new? It’s another reason to stay in bed. To remain sinless? Like I’m PURE.

Please! All my best crimes are done here. And I should shut up right now, Inspector. Only I won’t. And do you know why? It’s not like I’m getting into Heaven. Or, more importantly, to The Rainbow Bridge to see my B III. Are you sick of me speaking on B? That’s my first sin. The universe thinks so. When did I last read a book on grieving for fur babies? Inspector, that was about ten books ago. And of those ten, eight have involved uh… “Hair Pie” or clean-shaven. I know, Inspector, that’s so gross. Silence! Inspector, it’s either that or crying for my boy. And what about Virgil? The Day Job sucks for the both of us, Inspector. We both burst into tears.

So why don’t I get another job? Hell! I’m supposed to be a writer, aren’t I? And I was up around five-ish this morning. But seeing as how it’s 6:30 AM… Inspector, I’ve been busy. Doing what, you ask? For the record, there are worse people in the world than me. Inspector, I’m not a politician or programmer, and even with the pictures I took last night of myself… a pervert. And as for being a man? It depends on how we’re defining it this week. But like the song, “I think I used to have a voice. Now, I never make a sound.” That’s another reason I’m trying to stay off OnlyFans. Only the places I visit are worse. But without money and anonymity.

And to think, I was condemning the men in Matt Shaw’s novel. And that brings me back to my writing. Is that what I call this? The last few days, saying anything at all… Inspector, I should be ashamed. But there is so much of it. If there was food, the way there’s my shame. That’s another reason I’m up this morning. Last week wasn’t awesome! This week is a bit better. I should shut my mouth before I jinx it. Inspector, next week, Black Friday… There’s some shopping I have to do. And that’s to keep the Day Job I hate but still need. I can’t decide whether I should speak or remain silent. This Is America. B’s dead. Virgil? Virgil, The B’s Silent

1018 Days Without B III, Day 459 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 130 ~B LEAD It Virgil~

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“Oh lord, live inside me, lead me on my way, Lead me home.” Now replace “Lord” with Braxton, and you get the idea. To people, he was an angel or “just a dog.” He was/is a God that led me to exist. Now the man in the mirror or V? B LEAD It Virgil

Wednesday, November 8, 2023

Tale 130 ~B LEAD It Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But at least I confess. I’m not a man of God. Hell! My little God died. And Goddesses…

We’ll get to that at some point. But as King Ezekiel said, “I’m not your King. I’m not Your Majesty. I ain’t nothing. I’m just some guy”. The truth is I know it. And the lie? Oh, Echo! But no, never! Braxton was/is, forever and always, my firstborn son. Only what do fathers do? A father provides, protects, preaches, and teaches his son how to be a man. A man provides, and I still don’t think of myself as much of one. And yet fatherhood, as I’ve said. Fatherhood is pivotal to manhood, though you can reverse that. I was B III’s leader. Inspector, it was him, though, following Braxton from the beginning to the end. Braxton was the first time I was not led by fear alone. I swear

And now I fear being a leader, a father, and a man again. But what about little Virgil Vivi? At the time, I felt my son’s spirit was leading me —such faith. But now I’m stuck, Dear Echo. I’m not giving up on Virgil. If anything, he keeps me from giving up existing. This leads me to the Day Job. How did I become the leader of a billion men? Or women, Ha-Ha. Don’t they say it’s better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven? Tell me, Inspector. Better yet, All-mighty, “Lord heavens above. I’m only human, after all.” I’ll bend the knee if you can lead me to my boy. Lead, Follow, or get out of the way!

Inspector Echo, if I am to lead you, know exactly who, what, when, where, and why I would want to. But it’s the how that always gets in the way. Yeah, that or “my” courage. Why do I read so much on Jacob Ralston, Grayson Price, and Eddie Hill? I could go on Inspector. Sometimes I wish I could be wholesome being thirty-nine… E-Day continues to haunt me in November. Anyway, I want to be a husband and father. Inspector, I want to lead a family, but I fear that time has come and gone. And B, my son? We would’ve been like Dennis and Domino Hof. I’d own a brothel, have a big studio, and write books. I’d lead someday. B LEAD It Virgil

1011 Days Without B III, Day 452 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 123 ~Getting A B, Virgil~

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If I’d earned a few… a lot of A’s, I’d have a grade A existence. Schools don’t have scholarships for zombie tales or HaremLit. And while I love my boy and took Virgil in, I hate Math. So much for my plans to be a vet. A writer? “Getting A B, Virgil.”

Wednesday, November 1, 2023

Tale 123 ~Getting A B, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. It’s not like I’m fooling anyone into believing I’m a righteous man. How about a writer or reader?

Today is the first day of NaNoWriMo, which WAS usually hard on Braxton and me. Usually, it means another unpublished book. And with two months out from E-Day. So, ten months away from being forty? I swear I thought I was afraid before Inspector Echo. Halloween was yesterday. And what spooky things did I do with the night, dear Echo? Well, I read Satan’s Sorority Girls 3. And wanted to break with Grayson and Julia. Frightening? Inspector Echo, you know November is the month guys say NO to specific activities. But yeah, I watched Halloween Havoc for the following reason. Say it with me, Inspector. YABBOS! I should have listened to Braxton. The best legs, breasts, and thighs come from a bucket of chicken, Inspector.

Then maybe, just maybe, I would have more energy to write. And more time, Inspector. Hell! I could have a new subject to write about. I get F’s in everything else. That is if I let people peruse it, got it published, and didn’t use it as a punishment device. Writing poetry and prose meant so much more once upon a time. Once I got out of school, that is. Was it only 2020 2021 that I figured it was the way out for Braxton and me to live? Ha-Ha! Braxton found his way out, but what about me? Selfish much? It is inevitable, Inspector. Indifference killed my boy because I had to keep my anger at the Day Job far away from him, always.

Then there was my stupidity. I bought some Halloween “cool devices” from a particular company this week. Did I mention how my monster of choice has always been the Dead?

And now I’m reading a bill on zombie toys. Doesn’t Virgil need more stuff, Inspector? And I could be looking up ideas for stories, but would they be published somehow? Inspector, if I want a good horror story, I could look at The Day Job. And all the things I need to sign up for to continue to be one of The Walking Dead. For V’s sake, sigh. And last night, I got a message from M Anime assuring me, “Oh God, I’m gonna die alone.” Not surprising. But my boys? Getting A B, Virgil.

1004 Days Without B III, Day 445 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 116 ~Virgil On B’s Time~

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What time is it? When I was 36 and Braxton was 15, we didn’t care. If I had my way, he would be 18, and I would have never seen 7. I’d say 0, but I love my Ma. And with nearly 1,000 days, I can still cry for my boy. He’s My Son. V? Virgil On B’s Time

Wednesday, October 25, 2023

Tale 116 ~Virgil On B’s Time~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Is grieving a sin? It’s been 997 days, so three shy of 1000. As always, my Little Braxton.

I cried for him today, Tuesday, October 24, 2023. So, I’m only looking one day ahead. And yes, I will weep. But only because of the Day Job. Or I hope so. I wish to be sad, I swear, Echo. THEY say that “Anger is more useful than Despair.” And as Dr. Banner put it. “I’m always angry.” Always and forever, Inspector Echo. Who has that kind of time ever? Inspector, as I told Dear Future Wife today, I do. I have hated myself for the majority of 39 years of this existence. And the fact that I’ll make it to 40… Inspector Echo, geez. October is a month of scary things. Isn’t it? I still want zombies, but my boy B is in ashes.

So why is Virgil living on B III time? It’s not like it’s doing me any favors, even today. Ha! It’s three in the afternoon, so shouldn’t I be talking to Madam Justice? Procrastination, Echo. Virgil has been here for 438 days. And he’s still asking me when will be his time to come out and play. He’s living like Braxton did during his last days. And at least Braxton had the biological imperative to survive. My boy would eat, drink water, and use his pad. Even when he was dying, Inspector. He didn’t want his water right next to him. B was a man. And he walked to where his water dish once was. I need these tears, hmm. Today’s humiliations won’t be enough?

I’ve had alarm bells all day, both Tuesday and Wednesday. I told Dear Future Wife a nightmare awakened me this morning. There have been sirens, both police and women. There’s the silence of my overthinking, overloading. And, um, overflowing. And Inspector something as simple as the wind that could blow down the fence anytime. It can be all over. Inspector Echo, doesn’t Virgil deserve a chance, a choice, and his case on the clock? It’s Braxton’s first meds, outside time, and second dose every day. And everything I did was to one day have more time with him. The time I spend with Virgil… We both don’t know. “Time Has Come Today,” it will. Be it 3, 18, 39. Sigh, E-Day. Virgil On B’s Time

997 Days Without B III, Day 438 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

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I could tell the tails of every toy B had, every comfy spot he ever chose, and every name he went by. Yet what I hold most near and dear to me? I should be ashamed. All ten, eight, he died at six pounds… Then there’s my phone! “There B Treasure Here”

Friday, July 8, 2022

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But nothing is worth more than my son Braxton. What’s that Whitney song, You Were Loved?

Dammit, when will I say such things! I’m still time traveling today, Sunday, July 3, 2022. And I care more about sleep than I do my own son? I could be working on my, his, um, our novel today? But of course, if it’s not sleeping I treasure, then it’s my uncanny ability to tell lies. As I said, it is Sunday, which means I have talked to the man in the mirror. Hate that! Because, like in my everyday life, I have to put on a show, keep secrets, and smile. And the song “Smiling Faces Sometimes” sigh. I value Braxton’s but never my own. Inevitably, I’ll keep digging myself deeper into the hole which is my bed. For fuck’s sake, man, stay awake!

And without the porno! I swear, Lady Sophia, I wasted a damn hour trying not to click on anything. I swear, besides my Pancake, there’s my phone, porno, and always and forever my penis. There be treasure? In the closet, that drawer, my fucking head. Apologies for my language, but you wouldn’t like me when I’m just hanging out, horny, or haughty. Yeah, I’m writing or not a National Bestseller. Hell! If we finish our conversation on time, I still won’t write. I’ve been planning forever to complete an outline. There’s also been the promise of having a doctor dig into me and pull out whatever is wrong with me. Did I tell you that story of my ear and how I learned about Bukkake?

I treasure the stories that help me sleep. One more reason I’m listening to Succubus Lord 5 now. There are only so many times I can tell myself about games I have no time to play. Pornos don’t have plots… That’s a damn lie. After I finally honor my son and make good on the spending on that publishing company. Pure Taboo, Second Circle Creations? Until then, I continue wearing the hoodie I carried Triple B in for many years. His room remains a museum of everything. I even thought of getting a black treasure chest, ha. Should I ever try again, a furry kid? B is so heavy as is. And now Fuck! Dropping my heart more than my phone. There B Treasure Here

523 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 365 ~Letters Other Than B~

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5 years of writing. What do I have to show for it? Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels (B III died during this), and Chronicles. And now it’s the first of the month. On the first day of “Camp NaNoWriMo.” Tomorrow’s a new blog year. Letters Other Than B.

Friday, July 1, 2022

Chronicle 365 ~Letters Other Than B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And yet I’m greedier than Cupiditas. Yes, I’m listening to Succubus Lord yet again. Saving money?

Bills? More like the cost of living. And yes, I said letters other than B. But B III always comes first. Or at least he should have. If he had, I wouldn’t be sitting here writing about him. Hell! I’m not. Today I have to worry about money on top of all the political bullshit. “Time Enough At Last” or not. This morning I figured I would give myself seven and a half hours. Thursday, it was only seven. It doesn’t matter; I’m forever tired. Is it the bed, me being “Down With The Sickness?” No, not COVID, Lady S. I’m a “Lazy Ass” sigh. And there’s so much to do. Braxton was so patient. Another reason to miss him. I tell myself my lies.

“Stuff And Thang.” Because I broke again yesterday working on my OnlyFans. Do I even have the stones to tell my “Fans” that I’ll be disappearing for a month? And of course, you know why that is. You see what day it is? The start of Camp NaNoWriMo. Holy Shit! Numbers Lady Sophia. What do I have to show for my fifth year of blogging? All because of the “Basic Bitch.” These Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels, and Chronicles. I even had to look for a new word today. As of right now, I’m going with Sagas. Um, yeah, that works… Why not one more picture of Triple B and me. I need another quote for Facebook. Does any of it matter, Sophia? I don’t know.

Booking another stay at the dining room table. Or at least I should. But there is so much to do today, I keep saying. “The Will To B III” should be at the top of that list; I know that. Yet what have I been doing for the past few minutes? Ignoring my porn collection? Essential reading I need to do? Who am I to say that? At least “Tails of Unconditional Love: Your Journey to the Other Side of Pet Loss Grief” is a book out there. Inevitable? One more word on repeat. Thinking I will be on a bookshelf someday soon. I’m starting to sound like Cherry. But talking like Todd, wanting… TLC Tits, Lips, and Clits. Need more. Letters Other Than B

Gospel 365 ~A Year B Longing~

516 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will