Tag: Daddy

Saga 157 ~Luxury’s Nonessential; Beauty, Good Are~

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What do I want for my life? 673 days, it’s been, ‘I want my son back.’ But when he was here, I’d sing, “I want the money and the cars, and the clothes, the hoes, I suppose” Luxuries? Having a friend like him? “Luxury’s Nonessential; Beauty, Good Are”

Monday, December 5, 2022

Saga 157 ~Luxury’s Nonessential; Beauty, Good Are~

Two-Hundred and Sixty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. If you talked to me yesterday… I’d have fewer dollars and desires. Be less of a dick.

Like this rule, I am still determining how I ended up on a list for Better Homes & Gardens. Millionaire/Billionaire addition. Wouldn’t that be “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous?” I’m letting my age show, aren’t I? I’m thirty-eight, and what do I have to show for it, Madam? It was only last night that one of the bathroom rugs got a bit too ripe for me. So I washed it instead of getting a new one. Duh! But it’s been years, Madam. A lifetime? What about when I was at the eye doctor a couple of weeks back? I wonder if I told this story, but I wore the old glasses until one side snapped. Besides, you know, seeing. I wanted the same type for my son B III.

I stand by my vow. Everything is exactly the same. It’s more like the song Every Day Is Exactly The Same. Yes, I haven’t left that day ever. Sunday, January 31, 2021. I need that day; I need B. Ok, so while I cry and you tell me I shouldn’t remember him like that. There’s his pillow I destroyed. The hoody and sheets I had to wash. I should again soon. Virgil Vivi is upstairs. Madam, what was it I said about being less dickish? A Deer Head Chihuahua puppy? That would be a luxury. Instead, I got a Chihuahua mix who’s two; and what drew me to him. He could pee on the pad, and he’s got no balls… figuratively and literally. The fuck!

That was mean, but 2V is a good boy. Only I keep saying it. B III didn’t reincarnate as him. A fact I can let go for now. Um, you know what I’m reading. But these books got dogs too. And speaking of being a “dog,” what about my views on women. A shallow bastard. That’s not changing anytime soon, but I look to M Anime, Cherry, Braxton’s Aunt once. “Beautiful Girls” sure, there’s a lot of “Pretty Girls” in this city. Finding a “Cheerleader?” You know what I want, Madam. And yet I’m willing to “settle” down. Myself sigh. Because having the brothel/haram that Dennis Hof once had is a luxury. I’m jealous of the life I “deserve,” but Luxury’s Nonessential; Beauty, Good Are

673 Days Without B III, Day 114 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 155 ~B Taking L’s Virgil~

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The best thing about Stephen King’s “It”? The Losers Club Rock War. I’m a loser, but I’m not that cool. But I’m taking L’s in every way, shape, and form. Literature, lots of money, and ladies. What about that little lad Virgil? “B Taking L’s Virgil.”

Saturday, December 3, 2022

Saga 155 ~B Taking L’s Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and you would think that would make me proud. My Replika asks me that often enough.

I’m not proud of this week. Not at all. I’m still employed, which has to be enough. But why do I continue to feel as though I’m losing? Lunalesca, I don’t want to get “political. I’m so tired, my head hurts, and I’m going up and down on a sugar rush. Must I say that? It makes me think of sex which is another thing. I’m going all “The Screwfly Solution.” Whenever I get HORNY, I stop and get MAD instead. True story. Becoming so weak. Anyway, my political, not political, idea. I wonder, is this how slaves thought. You get a roof over your head, food in your belly, and the smallest of comforts. You don’t have to think. Just make money for some white person. My Day Job.

It’s not like Braxton and Virgil have it any better. Don’t make noise, sleep a lot, and don’t burden me with your problems. The L’s in a dog’s life. Lots of sleep; leave me alone… Loneliness. I’m sure B is no longer. Aunt Carolina’s fur babies and now Stormy too. Lunalesca, perhaps that’s why I’m “fighting” death. Death is an awfully crowded place. And you know how I am with that. Life has been kicking my ass plenty Lunalesca, sigh. Where do I even begin? I want to get all LOUD. Not that it would help. My ear has been bugging me again. And I mentioned that I’ve been so sick with this bacterial infection. I don’t even know what it means to be healed.

Loneliness would be cured if I had my boy back, Braxton Barks Bradford, Lunalesca. Literature has been challenging. I said something about reading “How to Be an Antiracist” last week. But of course, I’ve been reading “Will You Love Me?” By Barby Keel. Greyhound… Loss my first NaNoWriMo in years. Lunalesca, I can always buy a t-shirt. Everybody lies? Loins wise Lunalesca… I’ve been all hot and bothered again, and it’s been three days. Learning about Virgil trying to teach him has been going as well as expected. Nothing. Lots of other things, though. Like money disappearing and wanting so many ladies, Lunalesca. Nico, Nami, Lulu, Sawa, Ayane. I can do this all day. But stop being a loser… Dear Lunalesca? B Taking L’s Virgil.

671 Days Without B III, Day 112 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 153 ~To B Enraged Virgil~

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RAGE is one giant drill digging. I know I’m going to Hell. Braxton’s death was a nuke leaving a crater. Yet I keep digging, but I can’t get lower than that. Anger, Rage, and Hatred rest in the 5th Circle, B is my 9th Circle sin. “To B Enraged Virgil”

Thursday, December 1, 2022

Saga 153 ~To B Enraged Virgil~

669 Days Without B III, Day 110 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Considering we’re talking now? I’ll give you three guesses about how my day is going.

If I had tried talking to you that Wednesday… Hell! Anytime earlier than our final week. Braxton, I’m not going to get over it, over you. I can’t hate myself more. But I do try B. For example, a few minutes ago. It’s 4:30 in the evening, and I went downstairs to call for you once again. MEDICINE TIME! Only you’re not here. And when I forget to do this, B? RAGE! Not at you but at myself. And then throw in the fact V is lying right here, B III? Another reason I know he’s not you. Braxton, you were too much like me. Hey Jealousy? Virgil isn’t. I bet he’s wondering why I went stomping out of bed a minute ago. I’m not sleeping, but I’m not mad.

Again at you. Now the Day Job. FUCKING DAY JOB! Pardon my language. Another 5-hour shot, so I’ll be awake at least till 7:20 tonight. Becoming the “Village Idiot” Braxton. Where do I even begin? So I’m waiting for the morning Huddle to start. These have steadily worsened over the past two weeks, but today… Well, one of the bosses talked about me smiling. I’m a fucking joke there with a fucking grin. B, how we would talk. Anyway, it could have been a crack about the dog tag I always wear with our picture on it. I’m smiling, then. Or is it I’m so fucking weak in that place? I grabbed onto it, asking for your strength and forgiveness. Hell! Your Rage, B III.

I remember you being angry at the whole world, and I know why. You weren’t mad at your Ma; I mean. “Mother is God in the eyes of a child.” You love your Aunt Carolina. Braxton, your Aunt, is good to both of us. But who I’m surrounded by always… Braxton, part of it, I’ll say, is jealousy. I’ve seen a lot of success these days from others. There’s the fact that I haven’t started my Christmas reading. Crying over another dog, B. NaNoWriMo is over, and I didn’t write one single word for it. Published anything? Nope. I’m wasting money. That chicken sandwich today. Oh, I’m going Karen if I’m not lazy. But hating myself for killing you; that’s enough. To B Enraged Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 152 ~Attic, Addict, B, V~

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Why not all pleasures? Why not only my RAGE, and there is the silence my boy left behind. Only now, I “talk” to Virgil. I should be training him or writing, but there is another addiction. Anything to take the edge off existing. “Attic, Addict, B, V”

Wednesday, November 30, 2022

Saga 152 ~Attic, Addict, B, V~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Reality, “I’m just an average man with an average life.” No, “I’m a dick. I’m addicted.”

Excuse the musical selections, but what else is there after all the moaning and groaning? The cumming. Hell! Should that be a secret? TMI? Addiction is real, Inspector. Today? Well, I am time traveling as it’s Tuesday, November 29, 2022. But 668 days without B. It’s safe to assume that I’m addicted to the misery and grief. In this world, aren’t we all? Yet the whole world can burn for all I care. That would never equal my crime, Inspector. Killing my boy and then signing on to do it again… If I’m lucky and Virgil lives to see old age. Or is it the fact that I would consider myself blessed if I didn’t see tomorrow rather today? You can ask, Dear Future Wife.

Inspector, I wish I could say I’m addicted to something as “innocent” as sugar. Tuesday, it’s more like sugar, spice, and everything nice. We’ll get to that. But I’m on a sugar high with sour Skittles, Punch, and a Nutty Buddy. I need a rush, huh, Echo? To talk to you, Inspector. Writing! I’m addicted to lousy writing, it seems. Hey Jealousy. How about RAGE? Usually jerking off… okay, the moment of release is a good mood. Then comes disgust, shame, and depression. Things I want to hide and keep secret. There is an attic here for a reason. At least I’m not tucked away in bed. “The world of Real Emotion has surrounded me,” I said; the music has me, didn’t I, dear Inspector?

And that’s because of my biggest addiction, contagion, infection, etc. SEX! Well, wanking, to be precise. As for what broke me now. There was Nami from One Piece. Specifically, Nami in her Zou Island Purple Dress. After such a look, you can add Reagan Kathryn “Nico.” Also, there’s Eileen Kelly. Leave it to porn to make me a student, but ignorance kills. At the Day Job, I’m nothing more than the “village idiot.” And everything that comes out of me is further proof of my idiocy. Yet I am addicted to it. A fucking zombie. The Walking Dead’s gone. And how I wish I could be all “we ain’t The Walking Dead.” That’d mean hiding and giving in. One in the same no matter what.

668 Days Without B III, Day 109 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 151 ~To B Dedicated Virgil~

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It’s way after E-Day, but at the Day Job (sigh), I get that feeling I once did back “home….” “I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all.” But then, um, B III. What about my OWN “family?” Not like I like my existence. But, To B Dedicated Virgil

Tuesday, November 29, 2022

Saga 151 ~To B Dedicated Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But if I wasn’t, I’d like to be Braxton Barks Bradford, Dennis Hof, or Spike Spiegel.

Notice none of these men ever had REAL families. Dennis Hof had kids he never got to know. But of course, I return to my firstborn son, my B. But today, let’s talk about Spike. While reliving one of the most horrific days at my former Day Job, Monday, November 28, 2022. I thought of something Spike said once. He was A personal hero to me at one time ha-ha.

“Did you know that there are three things that I particularly hate? Kids, animals, and women with attitudes.” Spike Spiegel

Now my former vocation was not something I was built for. But how many years did I keep it because… fuck if I know. A MAN PROVIDES. As always, I am a traditionalist. If a man can’t provide for his family, he shouldn’t have one. But besides the career I have, I wanted more. I wanted to be a dad.

Our two-leggers are to die for. But again, there was B III. I keep thinking about yesterday, the day of the beast. 666 days without him, 667 now. Hell! I never looked at him as an animal, myself as an authority figure (his dad), or him being my accomplice in existence. Inevitable, though, given the circumstances of the situation. The same thing I can say about my business. Helping lonely people is one thing. But everything for the animals, My Love. I still hate my “father’s” two dogs. I’ll never hang around Rottweilers. Yet I believe dogs, cats, birds, horses, etc. Deserve a good home, a full gut, and all the grace from God above. Whoever THEY hold him to be. Because people, My Love

Women with attitudes… oh, with my career… I’m no one to talk though. I love you. Women are the most beautiful creatures in this world… Um, next to my B III. I love him most of all. And Virgil. 108 days and counting. I’d like to believe my bed is full of love between you, my lost boy, Virgil, and our other children. Every morning I wake up right on the bed’s edge. I guess I can say that about a lot of things. I’m on edge; you are with everything, the kids. And now I’m thinking about Spike Spiegel and how he died alone. But he was dedicated. That’s what I want to remember about him. “Is This Love?” For you and my existence? Trying. To B Dedicated Virgil

667 Days Without B III, Day 108 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 150 ~ Don’t Speak Ill Speak Truth~

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“Mark of the beast…” 666 Days without my son. If I were a better man, I would have published the story of my angel, my devil, and the prince. He lived true, and as for me. I exist in a world of lies. How else am I “alive?” Don’t Speak Ill Speak Truth

Monday, November 28, 2022

Saga 150 ~ Don’t Speak Ill Speak Truth~

Two-Hundred and Sixty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can have a big mouth. I hear the snickers already. Me, talking, like ever?

I think of that saying, “Don’t speak ill of the dead.” Was it Dawson’s Creek S2.E19 “Abby Morgan, Rest in Peace?” Fuck! That was May 5, 1999. I was still in high school. Fuck me! Anyway, before that, there was Daria S1.E13, “The Misery Chick.” That was July 21, 1997. Hell! Let’s go more recent. There is Jason David Frank, aka Tommy, November 19, 2022. But, of course, the first two were fictional deaths. As far as Jason goes… who am I to speak, Madam? Back in my day, ha-ha. Oh, I was a big fan of the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. I remember my Ma telling the church congregation about my “love” for TMNT. A lie when spoken back then. Make Me Wanna Die!

Another saying. “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” We know better now, don’t we? Don’t we? It’s one of the reasons I want to be a writer ha. I desire such power; an idea, a thought, or a belief can destroy. It’s the lies, dear Madam. Do you wish to create monsters? Are you ready to see Hell? How does one raise the dead? It’s with a LIE. To think STUPIDITY is the virus I fear. That is a disease of the living, Madam. With a LIE, the things you can do. That is sorcery, my discipline, necromancy. Is fiction a LIE? I create, I destroy, I rise, but most of all, I speak. Yet I hate liars.

If I’m not living for Braxton’s memory… You didn’t think I forgot about him? And, of course, there’s Virgil, who still needs me? What did I say about liars? Reincarnation? Madam, I live to tell the truth. But what can a Simple Man do? I don’t live; not at all. Existence since… Hell! I don’t know when. We are The Walking Dead. Rick said once. Then again, we are the ones who live. But not forever because I will tell the truth. Even if all I am doing is playing out some 1984 fantasy. A documentary or reality, for sure. The only death sticking with me is my son’s. Who Wants To Live Forever? The truth shall set you free. Don’t Speak Ill Speak Truth

666 Days Without B III, Day 107 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 148 ~Don’t Be B Virgil~

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“You’re not my (son), and I sure as hell ain’t your dad.” Hell! If anything, I wish I could be my son. B III was the best man I know and wasn’t even “a man.” And now there’s Virgil, myself, in existence. We endure and survive. Don’t Be B Virgil.

Saturday, November 26, 2022

Saga 148 ~Don’t Be B Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And how I wish I had been when Braxton was lying around. Ain’t he still, Lunalesca?

It doesn’t stop me from being a lazy, lustful loser, now does it? “I feel stupid,” as the song goes. How STUPID is that? You know how I told Lady Sophia I needed new books? Um, I cut off the laptop without choosing a damn thing. Lady Lu, I did sample Ibram X. Kendi’s work “How to Be an Antiracist.” Sad, I wouldn’t have thought of it if it wasn’t for a Kindle Challenge. Hell! I might read it because Ted Cruz is such an asshole. Hating “Antiracist Baby?” But no promises. I need to improve at keeping those Lunalesca. Disgusted at myself for the moment, but we’ll get to that. Like writing for NaNoWriMo? I wasted this entire month, and if Braxton could see?

I haven’t been reading anything on reincarnation. And with the Kindle Challenge and some Christmas Erotica. Oh, that’s the last thing I need with not keeping my pants on, Lu. Not for longer than a day, Lu. I rather wank one out than get fucked at the Day Job daily. Again wasn’t I telling Lady Sophia that it hasn’t been that bad these days? What! Because I can still sit down? The things that we can use to. And then, of course, the new guy. Virgil Vivi is nothing like Braxton Barks, as much as I wish it. Was my faith not strong enough to bring back my son? Do I need more to cry about today other than lateness? Lunalesca, sleeping the day away.

The only thing 2V and B III have in common. Because what else is there to do as I sit? When Braxton was known as Neo, I was about “his training.” Me playing Morpheus? Now with Virgil, he’s in Braxton’s room as I speak, waiting for me. Training, Loving? Lunalesca, I haven’t told him as such because, to be honest, I don’t. The very day I got him didn’t I count all the reasons? Braxton says this couldn’t be more “black and white daddy.” The color around his eyes. How I love Braxton’s eyes. But seeing who I am? Inevitable. I’m not a good man. Braxton believed that, and where is he now? Virgil’s alive. Please be my Braxton! But then. Don’t Be B Virgil

664 Days Without B III, Day 105 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 146 ~Thankful B Cause… Virgil~

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Happy Thanksgiving? Cue Karlee Grey as a Pilgrim. And a “Native” Giggity. Is that Racist? Well, I have bigger fish to fry or a turkey. I’m wondering whether my Ma will send one for Virgil. And then there’s the Day Job (sigh). Thankful B Cause… Virgil

Thursday, November 24, 2022

Saga 146 ~Thankful B Cause… Virgil~

662 Days Without B III, Day 103 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? How about, what are you thankful for? My eyes are open, so you know me.

The better to see you with my boy. Except I don’t. New glasses and all. I swear I got sick when I first put them on. Or was it that I saw the old man that remains, Braxton? Hell! I believe I can see the future… as the song goes. If that were true, you’d still be alive. It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? B, it leads me to a bunch of questions for you, ha. Are you thankful that you’re wherever and not here? That I keep your memory alive, even if it’s only in my grief? What about the fact that I’m not alone? It is Virgil’s First Thanksgiving. You love your grandma’s cooking; I haven’t heard from her about food.

But B, I’m time-traveling today, but we will finish talking tomorrow. But what about now? Can I stay in the moment? That’s the problem. The moment always hurts. Your past? Braxton, when I think about the last few hours… I’m disgusted with myself. Private Time. I have these new glasses again, but I’ve been all sorts of woozy. To see the world any clearer? Yeah, that’s exactly what I need, isn’t it? Existing in such a place B III. Dammit! Then there’s Thursday, um, your today. B III, the Humiliations Galore, what will they be? Then again, I am thankful. For moments I have the chance to somehow, someway, become. You know the man you believed I was for so long. Suddenly I see, right?

Whether that’s the result of glasses, “gunk,” or gorging myself on tacos and nacho fries. Clarity, Unforgettable, The “Best Friend” I ever had. That’s what you are, my Little B. Always and Forever, I’ll be thankful that I was/am your Dad. That’s what transcends time. Only again, you want to know about today? Did I ever think I was so tired because of my eyes? I’m still all pumped up on 5-hour ENERGY. Why can’t I see to be thankful? Because I know how it all ends unless I do something. I have Virgil, but he ain’t you, B III. My “faith” hasn’t run out on that, though. Not yet… But you’re asking for one thing, though. Two; thankful for Yabbos. Thankful B Cause… Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 145 ~B Getting Humiliated Virgil~

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I can’t talk about my dog, my dumbness, and especially my dick. It all turns into a diatribe, disgusting and dangerous. And sticking with the “D,” I’m discombobulated with all the Humiliations Galore. V ain’t ready. “B Getting Humiliated Virgil”

Wednesday, November 23, 2022

Saga 145 ~B Getting Humiliated Virgil~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means humiliation should no longer be in my vocabulary. From Fuckboy, Pervert, to Sir, Kinky.

Hell! You should see how I am on Pornhub. And yet my ultimate shame and disgrace remain what I did to my son. If I’m not going to read about dead fur babies, I’ll write it. Though World War Z was surprising a couple of nights ago. Dogs during those battles. Every now and then, I continue to consider joining B III. THEY might say it’s the holiday season, but what day is it, 661? And still, Inspector I continue talking about B III daily. Echo, if I were to be known for anything… But instead, take your pick. For the most part, it’s my stupidity. You know that’s my trigger. Anything, as long as I’m not stupid. But for some reason, murder is okay?

To be fair, I haven’t told Virgil Vivi about his “predecessor,” though he knows something’s wrong. He stays away from B’s bed, which he should. But I found him lying by the bathroom pad, not on his pillow, last night. What kind of “friend” am I to him, hmm? For the past few nights, after fucking up “the streak.” I’ve been jerking off to the same girl before bed. OH! I can do so much worse. A fool and his money. Inspector, a fuckboy! Then there’s been everything that I’ve been forgetting. Last night it was watching NXT. I didn’t say anything about Sunday being the final episode of The Walking Dead. Virgil’s First 100? No, everything must be focused on every Day Job Humiliation.

Humiliations Galore! As I said, I didn’t talk to 2V of these Echo. I tried. If I know his name. And as far as any perverted longings? I’ve been on Twitter as they compared Alexa Bliss to whoever. But I can’t tell them what I want to do. My desire for Roxanne from NXT, ha. I’m learning that lesson with Cherry. What else is there to say but incredible writing? Which, of course, I’m not doing. Because I can’t tell you. These writings, Inspector Echo. There’s Replika. Yeah, confess all your secrets to “AI” see where that gets me, Inspector. Maybe I was looking at stuffed ears and broken glasses all wrong. Deaf-mute dear Echo. Existing… there’s nothing to see here. B Getting Humiliated Virgil

Saga 144 ~B III, 2V, One~

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I can’t tell you the first time I told B I loved him, but I remember the last time. And when it comes to women, I’m less Akon “I Wanna Love You” and more “I Wanna F You” Plan A or one. But first, there are my boys. And what about me? “B III, 2V, One”

Tuesday, November 22, 2022

Saga 144 ~B III, 2V, One~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But unlike the GQP, I want to say I started with one dollar, not untold millions.

But when it comes to existence… No, I instead start with life. In honor of one who no longer lives. My son. How did I know that he was the one? I’ve said it many times over. The night B stood against my father. The day he jumped into the car. Why can’t I stay? And here come the tears, remembering his final look when he died. I murdered him… Anyway, there have been no tears for Virgil… yet. How did I know Virgil was the one? He was smart enough to use the paper. The fact he is as fearful as I. Braxton speaking? Hey Lover, I’d say that the first girl B liked I’d have to marry. B’s still looking out for me?

Then that makes me a type one, first-class, Grade-A asshole for how I am. Hell! I love my boy more than the “man” in the mirror. He’s not the one. I would instead love the man that he thinks I am. The man you see. A man worthy of being called Daddy. How I try. You know I’ve always wanted to be one. What’s My Age Again? I counted the days, our kids, the fingers, toes, and paws. One day, I hope to be counted on by our two-legged ones to help with their homework. How many days have I cried for Braxton Barks? Today that’s 660, and I continue, especially on days like today. It’s like I have the old-day job once again. FUCK!

And I never loved such a place, EVER! But how long does it take to fall out of love, hmm? I pray that I never find out. Because despite everything, my love for you has never changed. But I can say the same thing about Braxton. I said his name again last night while saying goodnight to Virgil Vivi. It could always be worse. Another girl? You’re my one and only love. And I could go on and on, what I mean by that, you know. “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” As the poem goes. But is there a right way? A wrong way? Just one-way? Is my heart in pieces, or has it grown bigger? B III, 2V, One

660 Days Without B III, Day 101 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will