Chronicle 112 ~When Braxton Fries Away~

I talked about food last week. B would be ticked off to see I didn’t bring fries back. I bought a chicken biscuit, and I yelled at McD’s for their STUPID rewards program I never signed up for. B’s brain and belly were linked. When Braxton Fries Away

Thursday, October 21, 2021

Chronicle 112 ~When Braxton Fries Away~

263 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I hope I picked something up but no fries B. I had a chicken biscuit.

Yes, I’m talking to you on a Wednesday. As always, I think back to when it would have mattered. The Wednesday, you cried, and by Thursday, I thought you would be okay. One more thing to be sorry for. I didn’t want to bring you down, and I’m bawling guaranteed. Not over Colin Powell, though. While I was in line today, again Wednesday, I saw the flag at half-staff. I don’t look up most days. I can only imagine what you think of me. You’re higher now, and if I had wings, a cape, a pile of money, I’d make my way up, B III. You have to believe me; I’m still trying, but it’s never enough. I’m talking like no fries for us both.

A day without fries is like a day without sunshine. If I didn’t bring food home, then we walked. Which one was better for you, B? There was no final walk and no last fry when your time came. Time, what did I do with all of mine today? And by Thursday, I’ll be out. I often envision what Hell will be like. Never getting to nap again. Wasting time. Braxton, I remember thinking the police would show up and take me away. Alone again. Is it sitting here, waiting to die? I didn’t even have it in me to make it back downstairs B. I wouldn’t expect you to follow me. I carried you in your old age, but you came up by yourself.

If I had the money, where would you like to eat? I’m sure the Rainbow Bridge has better fries than McDonald’s. Burger King, Seafood & Chicken Box, Red Lantern, etc. I swear, the best places are either fucked-up or closed down. Don’t repeat that language. You’re your father’s son, after all, and I want to keep you on the up and up. Well, unless you feel like taking a trip to visit me. I found some of your bandannas from PetSmart on the floor, and I figured you’d been by. I know I’m in your room every day. Little B. Thursday morning, there will be 263 for all the Days you’ve been gone. There are lots of ways to be empty. When Braxton Fries Away

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 111 ~Bucket Says B III~

All the small things, chicken biscuits off the shelves and not getting them in the drive-thru. The Yabbo files I’ve been working on instead of writing. Of course, there is always my little boy, gone 262 Days. “Bucket Says B III,” sometimes.

Wednesday, October 20, 2021

Chronicle 111 ~Bucket Says B III~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would make it in for a chicken biscuit sometime today. There’s always time.

Um, no, there’s not, but I did wake up around two AM today. But getting two more hours of sleep, I woke up at four and then fell right back to sleep, yep. It’s not nightmares but wanting to wake up dead and then seeing death staring you in the face. B was my life. Doggie kisses or some pretty girl’s… it’s been a long time since I’ve made a comparison. Where are we now; 262 Days without Little B. Even longer when it comes to the chicks. Hell, all the chicks in the world wouldn’t make up for Braxton being here. A monk again? I’m trying Inspector Echo, twisting my legs all into knots. As it stands, 3 Days, 17 Hours. Yes, it’s timed.

Braxton isn’t very patient when it comes to his favorite things in the world. Going outside, a biscuit for his bathroom spot, doggie cuddles from Moi? Inspector, it’s Fries always. These days as a routine, I stop and pick up fries except for Saturdays. If I’m going to betray my best friend. When I pick up a box of Street Tacos, I’ll choose onion rings. Bastard. Only this week, all I’ve wanted is a chicken biscuit but with the “promotion” and all. As the song goes, “Work sucks, I know.” If I go pick one up today, what’s left this week? Echo, a lesson from Braxton, “The best legs, breasts, and thighs are in a bucket of chicken.” My little boy was a wise one.

I’m not talking about my penis; that would be my big boy, right? Besides thinking of the vittles, I haven’t been getting. Or my Braxton, of course. It’s been all about boobs, some Yabbos. When you’re hauling boxes of crap, what’s a man to do? If I was writing Echo? Now I’m not complaining about OnlyFans. I’m thinking the reason I started that is because the house is Hell. But the Day Job is what took me away from Braxton. Should I be thanking them or cursing them? At least the ASM quit, so yay. I still need to eat. Chicken for my table or more like for Braxton’s tummy. For now, I’ll go write at the dining room table, SIGH. Bucket Says B III

262 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 109 ~Beasts Don’t Kill For Sport~

I don’t care for hunting. For food, okay. But killing majestic beasts as you want to man-up or because it’s Human Nature. The Most Dangerous Game? The only “life” I’ve taken had four legs and loved me the most. Humans eww. Beasts Don’t Kill For Sport

Monday, October 18, 2021

Chronicle 109 ~Beasts Don’t Kill For Sport~

Two-Hundred And Tenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t hunt people. On the one hand, some girls disagree. On the other, my aunt.

She for sure thought I was going to be a supervillain and wanted to destroy the planet. Me, the guy that’s so afraid to be in charge at work. Who’s thinking about every little thing that he screwed up the last time he was there? What did she know, considering…? Well, we won’t get into that. Let’s say that I haven’t killed anybody. Wait, no, scratch that. The things I can no longer speak. I have never been in a car wreck, but that changed some months back. Yeah, remember, Sunday, January 31, 2021, I killed my best friend, Braxton. A dangerous thought of what I wanted before I knew Braxton was dying, so I won’t voice it. Only if anyone deserves “something” that’s me.

Hell, I ain’t worth much except to a scammer. I swear I like books, but how many people have I had to block on Goodreads? While we’re on the subject, what am I reading now? In case you didn’t know, AHEM “Time-Travel.” Today is Saturday which means, as always, this week is going to suck. So again, what will I be thinking about in Hell? Dystopian Girls 2? Mason doesn’t hunt for girls but somehow finds them. Or speak of some tiddies, and they appear. A.J. Markam’s books have me looking up the Kama Sutra. There are also more Harem Romances. Hunting, Looking, Stalking, as I told Lady Luna today, I’m lost. I’m not chasing anything but my destruction. my Lazy Ass, come Find Me.

For the record, I don’t care for hunting. Unless we’re talking about something like Squid Game where things are “equal.” Humanity has lost sight of that. Now, Braxton, he was my pack, and I did what I did to make sure he would live… Other people, why are they there? That’s why the world is so dangerous. It’s all one big game of “Who’s The Better Killer.” We’re all fighting the same enemy, people, that is. One man said it was Hate, but no, Madam, you start at the root, and that is Fear. Braxton feared nothing… Well, his own kind, leaving me, and then only me. I killed and got nothing for it. Beasts have reasons, yet people survive. Beasts Don’t Kill For Sport.

260 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 105 ~Restaurants With A B-Plus~

A woman at the Day Job says to eat more. Has she seen what I make? I have no qualms about my body, and if B were here, I would make sure to get a side of fries. To be honest, how does M Anime eat at all? What is B eating? “Restaurants With A B-Plus.”

Thursday, October 14, 2021

Chronicle 105 ~Restaurants With A B-Plus~

256 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Are you checking up on me any? I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t, Braxton.

I remember I would have fleeting thoughts before you were gone, how this would be. Once I told your Aunt that I would listen to “See You Again” when I was mad at you. I don’t recall the last time I heard it. There was a time I would play it and others every day. It beats my ranting, raving, and rambling, wouldn’t you agree? I tried not to when you were sleeping. Which begs the question, Braxton, why are we talking this morning? Because your Daddy didn’t have any fries to stick in his mouth. The Day Job called. Braxton, how could I say no to you and yes to those PEOPLE? At the end of the day, you had to eat, nothing more.

Food has been the name of the game all this week. If you need another reason to be pissed at me, besides everything else. Yeah, I haven’t been bringing food back, or it was chocolate. Yesterday, I started to share something with Inspector Echo, but I didn’t know how to word it. I still don’t, but here it is. Truth, I haven’t been eating the way I should this past week. It’s not my intention to starve myself like I did years back. Hell, the only reason I’m still breathing, I’m Alive, is because of you and the Day Job. I love you and hate them, Funny how that works. If I survive today, then I keep my promise to you. If not, we’re together.

It’s what we in the business call a win-win. Thank you, Emily, “Just SUMM Reactions.” I’ve been subsisting off of movie reactions and eating like the contestants of Squid Game. How I wish you were here after Episode 8. I can’t justify buying a steak if I can’t share it with you. Emergence Day was an exception, of course. That was one more promise kept. Like wanting to help M Anime? Braxton, I know you love your Aunt Carolina Bound. She’s a lot less picky when it comes to food. M Anime and I would starve each other, you know. If anything, that would mean more for you. But you are your father’s son, Braxton. I made around 220 last week… Restaurants With A B-Plus

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 104 ~Suffering Is To B~

Braxton didn’t suffer in death. Little B, no, he saved that for me with his last look. Before, as he lay in his bed, belly empty. And I knew; French Fries, Popcorn, or anything that hit the floor would tempt him. Not even a bite. “Suffering Is To B.”

Wednesday, October 13, 2021

Chronicle 104 ~Suffering Is To B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And if I were like all the others, that means the rules don’t apply to me.

Excuse my politics at what 7:30 in the morning? Oh, I got up on time, earlier even. I wouldn’t call it a nightmare as my final thought after “Goodnight B, Sweet Dreams.” It is that I won’t have to wake up. I dreamed someone was here… I scared them away. To think my time always took a hit when B was here. I lose even more now that I don’t have him to protect me. That’s on top of everything I do in remembrance of him. Let’s not forget that I can’t plan on crying, but it happens everyday Echo one way or another. I even told M Anime that no matter the pain, I think of Braxton. Nothing ever trumps that hurt, shame, sin.

Not yesterday’s “ear fidgeting.” I swear if I end up in one of those disgusting videos with a bug in my ear? I’m always down for whatever wants to take me out and straight to Braxton. I’ve been looking at my hand and these two marks, minor nicks. My boss slammed a piece of hardware there by accident. Um, I should thank her, It reminds me of a nip from B III. Of course, the worse thing about this week, besides Braxton being gone? The Day Job. How about as the song goes? “Takin’ the bumps and the bruises, Of all the things of a two-time loser.” Now I’ve told you about this before. How I passed out because I didn’t eat, and Braxton saved my life. Poor us, right?

My new method of “purging” since, yeah, I can’t keep my dick in my pants. Thank you, Stuff And Thangs, aka OnlyFans. And I got Carolina Bound watching too, fantastic. Ok, you remember, after starving myself, I wound up in the hospital. My Old Man didn’t want to pay, and my Ma ended up footing the bill. Yes, my shame. I’m more ashamed that Braxton had dirty water due to my health, and I swore it would never happen again. Inspector, it never did, but I starved myself again and got kicked out by my Old Man. That was years ago, but then this week… Damn, I got to be careful how I say things… Guess I’ll tell Braxton tomorrow, yep. Suffering Is To B.

255 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 102 ~Perfection Is Forged Through Hell~

In a song, there’s the line “the road to Heaven, is paved through Hell.” Dante had Virgil, and I had B, and the clear path has been lost. My boy wouldn’t go to Hell unless Cerberus retired. Plus, B III was perfect. “Perfection Is Forged Through Hell”

Monday, October 11, 2021

Chronicle 102 ~Perfection Is Forged Through Hell~

Two-Hundred And Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. If the current crop of billionaires is any sign, I know where I’m going. I deserve it.

Seeing as how we’re talking on a Sunday, you know where I’ll be. It’s not going to Hell but more like going through the different circles. Of course, when I meet my demise, I will see Circle Nine for my Treachery. I’m sure you’re asking, aren’t you an atheist friend? Where’s Braxton in all this? How many groups am I a part of telling me that my son has crossed the Rainbow Bridge? He’s on it or waiting for me? Now I could burst out singing, I got Faith of the Heart. As far as God is concerned, I think I understand, Madam Justice. One more reason I’m going to Hell. Because what if anything do I conceive, hmm? For one, perfection lies in Hell.

Not my son Braxton. He would want to be where I am, so I tried to clean up my act. With what I did to him, taking his life, and yes, I’ve heard it all. It was an act of love, kindness, mercy. In my eyes, B was perfect but did he ask for mercy, freedom? B asked for Home. So this leads me back to God, and no, not like that. While I’m busy ripping off movies like Braveheart, how about The Ten Commandments. It’s like I’m Moses in the burning desert. I should look up how long Moses was in the wilderness. I have 253 Days of experience. Is “God” preparing me for a purpose? One that I could not share with Braxton.

It’s not OnlyFans for sure, but his cute face would have more fans than me. Hell, while I’ve been sitting here at the dining room table, I’ve gotten all sorts of ideas. Yeah, it ain’t writing, Burning paper, another taste of Hell. I’ll be amazed if I’m prepared… Day Job. They have said that the Squid Game is a look at Hell. Oh my took the guy ten years, ha. There’s my Envy popping up. I have had the Day Job for a decade, and what do I have, J? Even now, I could sit right in the Den and not do a damn thing. Cocoon myself in the Bed. Treachery is ice cold, you know, that is my punishment. Perfection Is Forged Through Hell

253 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 098 ~B STUPID THEY Say~

Hey STUPID, Slave, Sucker, so a day at work when I rather stay home with my dog, my best friend, my son but oh wait. When he was dying, I was working; the day after, I sat with him as he crossed the Rainbow Bridge; I worked. “B STUPID THEY Say,” yep.

Thursday, October 7, 2021

Chronicle 098 ~B STUPID THEY Say~

249 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Well, let me apologize for “that word.” How I hate “Hey STUPID, I Love You.”

But to quote another song, “I Feel Stupid.” Considering the 28th of January, when I didn’t know you were dying… I know I’m sorry, Baby B, it’s been a long day. Only am I talking about today or Monday? Why am I talking to you so early? By this time, I’d be in no mood. Oh, I’m STUPID THEY’D say for hating the Day Job denying a slave’s existence, mine. I’m STUPID for feeling bad about it like I failed in life. I let you down, B, all for them. There will never come some moment I won’t be reminded that this hatred killed you. Fuck I will never learn my lesson. This morning I came back and what Braxton; ate, slept, vented, ranted, whatever.

Because I can’t be STUPID, Braxton. At least I try not to be but of course, if you ask someone. One more thing I miss about having you here B III. There was no one to ask, and you already knew. I bet you’re glad I can’t lock you behind a gate someplace, hmm? Yeah, when your daddy is doing something STUPID like this morning. Hell, I would take that over what happened today, and I do mean Thur. It’s no use speculating. Humiliations Galore but at least this week was “successful.” Keeping the Day Job not killing anyone. Braxton, I’m not trying to be funny. In 2017 I wrote, “Lesson 050 A Comedian Died Today.” I killed you, B, my audience, 249 Days Ago.

The one love in my life who thought I could do better. I’m full of apologies, aren’t I B III? Oh, I say, you’re dead, I killed you, I know-how. But um, I’m a dumb criminal, yeah, B III. So why care what THEY say? That will always and forever make me louder, Braxton. Constantly I’m repeating reasons to love you and miss you. Braxton, you’re my quiet friend? Is that insanity? Am I being ironic? Now I know I’m not imagining things. I’ve talked about how the silence is killing me but only not fast enough. Why I’m still talking to you when I should be reading. A boy with an imaginary friend, believing in ghosts, zombies, succubi, me… Braxton, B STUPID THEY Say

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 097 ~Braxton Promises To Pray~

With my paws, I promise to walk beside you. To stand against any and all who come against us. To let you know where I am. But don’t touch them. I hate when God or his servants attempt to force my hand too. But the Day Job? “Braxton Promises To Pray.”

Wednesday, October 6, 2021

Chronicle 097 ~Braxton Promises To Pray~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but that’s not enough to see one’s true paradise, the right person, or my puppy now.

Yet on this Sunday, writing about Wednesday, as I play prophet. The humiliations, Inspector Echo, are getting worse. A revelation I’ve had of late sigh. When I was constantly worrying about Braxton, as long as he was okay… Well, life was Hell, so I believed. Inspector, these days, whenever I pray for strength, guidance, will. I always direct those whispers towards Braxton. Except for the Day Job. I continue to pop my wrists with a rubber band when I allow fear to guide my steps. Surprised my hands remain, Inspector. With all the work I’ve been doing today. Is that what I call it, talking to the Man in the Mirror. I was talking about a wedding band. Then my time out of the shower.

“Stuff And Thangs?” What I wouldn’t give to see a few $100’s, some $1,000’s appear in my wallet. B III wouldn’t understand money but anything that stopped me from leaving. I’m far less ashamed of being naked than whatever I’ve been doing this week. Hell, this Wednesday cannot be worse than the “Wednesday.” I remember B crying. As for me? You know I have never liked the terms owner, master, and the like. Someone wrote that dogs think they’re people; cats believe they are gods. Or even dogs think people are gods. Braxton never asked me to save him, only to hold him and bring him home. I couldn’t even do that. At least not in the way he wanted anymore. I wonder what B believed in. In me alone?

Braxton was blessed with paws, not hands, and he didn’t appreciate me touching them. Braxton is supposed to be beside me at times like these. These hands for petting Braxton. Inspector, I am ashamed I can’t do that anymore. Doesn’t that make today seem better? How I like to think Braxton was/is optimistic. At least he was/is good at pretending. Daddy needs only to return, and regardless of what happened, he would make it better. Echo, I gave him a treat before I left as I can’t stand lies, even for the love of Braxton. I still pray for him whenever I go. Does he watch over me? Even when I was no longer a monk. Doing whatever Day Job wise. Braxton Promises To Pray

248 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 095 ~Knocking, Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots~

I’ll show you a door; you’re the one who has to walk through. I’d tell B I’d never leave for the Day Job again. I hate that door; B hated car doors. Did he know neither of us would look at the front door the same? Knocking Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots

Monday, October 4, 2021

Chronicle 095 ~Knocking, Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots~

Two-Hundred And Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford one of those RING doorbells. Only people knocking here want my money.

Hell, the only doors I’m knocking on are for places I don’t want to be. Well, if you’re destined for Hell, you might as well get there early. You know I hate the crowds, Madam. I got the sins, no doubt. Yet the fact we’re here now J, on the 2nd ha-ha. Sigh Time Travel. That’s sort of what the Den has become. My Time Machine. I ain’t the smartest man (not STUPID). But working the thermostat, managing money, being a good Daddy. The Den is the warmest room in the house with the door closed. Today I miss Braxton’s scratching. I only shut it when he was here because I was mad. Otherwise, with his warmth… Cold, what Cold? I can’t feel a thing.

Hell, I deserve to get sick. I remember sitting there, my feet frozen in place and at the same time beating a path straight to Hell. As the needles took B; disease, vaccine, rejected me. So I won’t get COVID; for once, I was hoping the Republicans were right, and I would die. It’s not like I’m getting laid anytime soon. Knocking boots, as the kids would say. I don’t wear them or anything else, considering what I’m doing. I did have dreams of being a porn star once upon a time. For right now, I want to stay behind closed doors in the Den. Here I am, though, talking to you today because of all the knocking I’ll do. That I’ve done already, Madam.

Edward Norton kicked his own ass in Fight Club. Ain’t that something, Madam. I forgot knocking heads, and somehow the ASM reminds me every time I see his fucking face. Only I never grew into a violent person except against myself. I skipped all the self-harm and went right to, let’s say, the heart of the matter. Even that I fucked up. As for fighting? Every day I’m and out for the count. Not today because I was talking to Lady Lu about a lack of sleep being punishment. We’ll see how long this lasts. Not to Sunday the 3rd. Promises and a Penis take finessing too. Pardon my language today. Am I good at any of this? Opening doors? Knocking Takes Finesse, Doors, Boots

246 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 091 ~To Be Patient B~

Be patient, and I will find a cure, acceptance, salvation, forgetfulness, whatever. Yep, ASM, I still say whatever. I’m a sick puppy, or I had a sick puppy 242 Days ago. And now I’m insane in the membrane, as we said once? To Be Patient B.

Thursday, September 30, 2021

Chronicle 091 ~To Be Patient B~

242 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Mine is only beginning, and I’m already sick of it. Give me five more minutes.

Patient Daddy, but I’d be lying if I said I was sick like that. You saw me through the first year of COVID; I haven’t lost anyone because of it. I lost you this year, fucking insane. I’m glad you can’t repeat the things I say. Ain’t that a question. Can dogs talk in Heaven? Will I ever get to see you, B III? Hell, I’m making a mess over one of your would-be moms. Tell Millie “Sup” if you get a chance. I’m sure the last thing you want to do is spend all day in bed like your Old Man. I’m sick of feeling this way. I’m not talking about missing you; I mean being lazy. I got a good seven hours and still went back to sleep.

Patient B, that’s something I would never call you. If I brought fries home, you would be a real pain in the ass. No wonder I’m trying to exorcise you. Told you I’m sick, Braxton. While I was busy not telling you that B III, let’s see. Um, I did icky things I wouldn’t let you see. I got my affairs in order, but I’m not dead yet. Then comes the food I can’t share, B. I told you before about choosing Onion Rings vs. Fries, hmm? How about Chocolate vs. Sour Gummies? Here I worried about those things killing you, but it was hatred. Hatred is a sickness, but is patience a real virtue?

Patience in wanting to join you? I haven’t seen your grandpa in a minute; the Day Job only brings me more hate. I hate myself, sorry? B, now you weren’t a cure but a medication. Sometimes you could be distracting, but considering the work, I got done with you around. Hell, my last novel is most of these letters and the one before… Zombified daddy. The more I sleep, the less I think about a more permanent solution. Considering the books get busy living and B, you know the rest. You had so much more living to do, my friend. I failed you in that. Is love the cure for hate? More like warring with myself, and what have I created? Your book, for love, NaNoWriMo? To Be Patient B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad