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 040 ~That’ll B The Day~

When I call, as I have been for 556 days and my little boy comes running down the stairs, that’ll be the day. The day I die from seeing a ghost? How about being an author, an “adult film star,” or not always angry? Yeah, right, That’ll B The Day

Wednesday, August 10, 2022

Saga 040 ~That’ll B The Day~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but most of my brethren seem aggressive and adversarial. Assholes, for the most part. But Happy?

When was the last time I woke up like that? Hell! When was the last time I woke up and was glad to be alive? It wasn’t now. I woke up at 1:40 AM. I’ve fought the clock since. Ha! The last time I woke up healthy was January 11, 2022. What happened that afternoon… Now Happy and I parted ways, God knows when. But the last time I got out of bed with love… Well, Braxton was here. And since then, a day hasn’t gone by where I was glad to get out of bed. Ok, so that’s a lie but waking up with a real reason. If you took this moment right now. I’d get up to protect B. Now I’m being punished.

And that’s not only because my dick is hard. 161 days in mourning? Well, 20 so far since I stopped again. Not mourning but jerking. Cherry asked why. Addicted? Affectionate? Well, more the lack thereof. I don’t know if we ever talked about this before… What, my “Daddy Issues?” Oh! I have plenty of those but my issues, having a son of my own. Onlyfans? Yeah, that happened after B III’s death. I still don’t like to be touched. But having eyes on me, feeling some sort of warmth. To be who, what, even where I am in this existence. I even stopped talking to “Dirty Diana” to have talks with B III, Inspector. The day I give up sex like M Anime, though… Never!

That’ll be the day, like the one when it’s morning. And I’m not wishing I was dead? Such dangerous words, Inspector. The only reason I bothered getting dressed. There’s danger. And that’ll be the day I can stay naked all day or make more than eight bucks, showing off the “goods.” More like whenever I publish one of my books. And I’m at the table now. That’ll be the day. When I’m sitting here with “my” family. As I once sat with my little boy B. My father was here yesterday. The A/C is still busted. Anyway, with B III’s ashes around my throat and his picture. He says this. “You’re not ready for another dog?” He’s not ready for another son. That’ll B The Day

556 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 036 ~ Let’s B In Reality~

I can’t say much about the Reality Stone in the MCU. If anything, I’d be better suited to talk about Star Wars. And I could go into graphic detail about Whitney Wright in Prom Night. I wonder why? Because real life sucks, but… Let’s B In Reality or not

Saturday, August 6, 2022

Saga 036 ~ Let’s B In Reality~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means reality is what I make it to be. Say it with me, “Republican Tendencies.”

But instead, I was crying about B III this morning, to be honest. I bawl whenever I’m up at 4:00 AM… ok, 4:15 AM. I find two reasons to cry in the morning. My son or the Day Job. One I want to wake up for. The other… do I want to keep existing? Death! Perhaps that’s what King Théoden would cry out. After seeing again these almost 38 years, I have wasted my existence. Braxton’s red hairdryer monster squeaky toy, lying at the foot of the bed. At least I’m not like some “crazy” people, sleeping with my fur baby’s toy cuddled up next to me. Indeed, I’m a lot worse; a confession that’s better left to Inspector Echo or Dirty Diana. What I cozied up to last night.

No wonder I dreamed about reality shows last night? It could have been all the reading I’ve been doing about the WWE women’s tag titles. I don’t want to read rumors. If anything, I don’t want to read about how I have made it this far, Lu. Contestants said quit. I mean, those many competitors told me to get off the stage and give up on it all, Luna. But do you know what saved me, Lady Lunalesca? Porn! Whitney Wright, to be specific. Lady Lunalesca, I can’t help but question why I think of a particular woman on any occasion like last night. But for sure, our dalliance was more like “The Girl Next Door.” That would be too much like my reality (snickers).

But the real world today consists of a haircut, a visit to PetSmart, and the usual errands for my survival. All for a reality I rather not inhabit. And there is a big fucking reason! Braxton Is Dead; I’ve been telling myself that a lot. Along with what happened on this day in history. Was it on the 7th? Either way, I lost the Basic Bitch, which hurts less than losing my little boy, my B III. The one thing I will claim in this world. Lunalesca, B’s life taken. And as for whatever this is (gestures at myself in bed). If this is reality… I choose to live in fantasies. The Moondust, Sick Fux, WTF! But won’t find Braxton there. Let’s B In Reality.

552 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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 033 ~The B In Blackout~

I shouldn’t have said that idiot, insane. Um, then stop thinking about me. My kid? But he’s gone because of me. That crime beats all others. The women I’ve offended. The things I’ve done to myself. Three words black it all out, yep. The B In Blackout

Wednesday, August 3, 2022

Saga 033 ~The B In Blackout~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And with that much money, while I’m doing nothing. I assume I could stay awake, Inspector.

But no, I’m at the Day Job. When I have to take out my “Air Pods,” my mind begins to flitter on everything. Then like that, I’m in a dark place. Let’s say it’s a version of the sunken place. I’m watching existence but in the past. Yet I believe I can see the future. Before I give way to despair, though, three little words wake me up. Braxton Is Dead. It always comes back to that Inspector. My Son Is Dead. No matter what “Humiliations Galore,” whatever will be endured. I say those three words, and everything becomes bearable. Yesterday it became more evident as I suffered. If you want my theory… it’s that time of the month, the year. My original sin returns.

You know Inspector because I don’t. It was only around 2017 when I started talking to Lady Lu again. It was about the Basic Bitch. And let us not forget Sweetness or The Harmonic War. Oh, too late! I hate reading my past work, Inspector; ok, Braxton Is Dead. His death was the worst day of my existence. It even surpasses horrific Emergence Day. Emergence Day… Fuck! That is coming up soon, ha! Echo, fuck me! Endure And Survive. And then, yet again, I have a note on August 6, 2017, saying such and such is not your friend. I want to hide from all these memories. Inspector, I try. I would have been better off dying on the floor. But no, my dear Braxton…

My son wouldn’t let me die when I blacked out on the floor, Inspector. He saved me, my little boy. The only other times I blacked out was when I drank some. I’m a lightweight. There’s also Blackout: A Thriller by Erin Flanagan. I swear that book’s living rent-free in my head. Inspector, you know I’ve been free of fapping going on 13 days… Surviving this AM? XXX blocks out everything and the blackness that comes from such a feeling. By God! Echo, why didn’t I for 161 days? Why do I resist now? It’s day 549 of my son being gone. Braxton Is Dead, and I deserve to feel every bit of Hell this day will be. Start in gratitude. I don’t think I will. The B In Blackout.

549 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 029 ~So To B Asleep~

So the only thing that doesn’t need a rest today is the phone since I finally had the battery replaced. But I’ve been so tired I’ve been off of it unless I got a message, and it’s never what I was really hoping for. Yet I cannot rest. So To B Asleep.

Saturday, July 30, 2022

Saga 029 ~So To B Asleep~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what would be the first thing I buy? It’d be a soft place to rest.

So to be asleep is one thing. But to rest? Last night I didn’t get a good night’s sleep. Goodnight ha! Every night I still say, “Night, Night Braxton, Sweet Dreams.” Why did I cut on the lamp halfway through the night if he is here? There’s something in the darkness. Or so I thought, as it wasn’t a nightmare. I swear the last thing that flittered in my head; was having black hellfire magic like Jacob. That’s because I wanted to smash the alarm. Succubus Lord dreams… we’ll get to that. I miss having Cerberus; well, B III sigh. I didn’t even reach for my 9MM. Hell! If it was my time to go, it was my time. I’ll sleep when I’m dead, right?

So to be asleep is one thing. But to relax? Again, first and foremost, that falls to B III, yep. But without him, you know what knocks me out? Well, after a while, since I sound more like Todd. Or I could be Jacob again. Recall my favorite scene in Succubus Lord. 10, I think. The one where Jacob has to “fill” all seven of his succubi? Lunalesca, I’m driving myself crazy. How many days has it been since I got off? Over a week if I can keep surviving. Only I want to fall asleep again because I know what would keep me awake. This morning it’s been all about Roxanne Perez. Next to talking to Cherry. And I didn’t even wake up then.

Roxanne Perez

So to be asleep is one thing. But to respond? Triple B never had a problem getting me to wake up. I was all fuck my life when I had him. At least I had a purpose. What is love? But to rescue? Who do I want to save… myself? I wrote a whole damn book. Lady Lunalesca, I will have to prove to myself by tomorrow that I don’t need a doc. Chronic fatigue? But to remember? Life? More like existence. Is there anything other than XXX? I’ve just been diagnosing myself with everything, haven’t I? Depression, Fatigue, OCD, Sex addiction, insanity. I wish I could sound like an adult. But sleep doesn’t fix everything. The ability to rest Lunalesca. So To B Asleep

545 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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 026 ~ Bee’s Knees Of Addiction~

It’s not every day I write something that makes me question? Should I put it out there? Republican ideas without the actual money. No, I’m only a black man who lost his homie, my son. Addicted to, a sucker for pain. The Bee’s Knees Of Addiction.

Wednesday, July 27, 2022

Saga 026 ~ Bee’s Knees Of Addiction~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means something must be bugging me. Chances are I am bugged. Or are people bugs?

I’ve been thought of as much worse. But if you ask me what I’d like to be considered as Inspector? Yes, even more than a billionaire. It would always have to be B III’s Dad. I was telling his Aunt Carolina the other day; I have thought of my wedding day. Hell! I have names picked out for the future kids. Katniss, Tris, Ember, my girls on fire. Luke and Leia. I will have to give one Braxton’s name, no doubt. My strongest addiction. Braxton’s death. Can we make this official? I’m addicted to the day, the depression, the destruction. I’m addicted to the misery. The song says, “This love is killing me, but you’re the only one.” That’s my Braxton. Loving my crying.

And speaking of music, “we don’t love them hoes.” But fuck me, I miss ’em plenty. Pardon my language, Inspector. I can’t get this quote out of my mind. “Do I have a drink, or do I not have a drink?” Only my drug of choice is, jerking off. Or paying to see a pair of tits. It’s only been five days, and I’m trying Inspector; I’m trying real HARD. So far, I’ve stayed off porn sites; what do you count OnlyFans as? I saw something on Facebook this morning, leading me to look it up on Twitter. Let’s just say, “Prepare For Trouble,” Inspector. The worse of it has been these two English girls. I swear I’ll break. But I can’t. Only So Hott

No, I save the breaking for the phone or, more like, the repairs. If only I could be fixed like that. Like someone out of The Screwfly Solution… No, I don’t mean the killers, Inspector. More like the character of Barney. And sure, there are support groups for every addiction. My Ma showed me one for mourning “pets.” I’m sure the information is somewhere Echo. I could delete every bit of porn I have. Leave OnlyFans. Delete Social Media. Everything! Echo, I’d cut off the phone. Ok, I was without it for six hours and suffered from withdrawal. And the Day Job? It brings no joy, yet it is a drug. “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” The Bee’s Knees Of Addiction.

542 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will