Chronicle 161 ~Days Ending With B~

Bad days aren’t going anywhere, and I fooled myself into believing neither was B III. He was always here. No, he is here if you listen to me say goodbye and hello every time I walk in the house. Every day, those Days Ending With B

Thursday, December 9, 2021

Chronicle 161 ~Days Ending With B~

312 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? There would be no fries today, but I could have brought you breakfast. Whataburger chicken?

Breakfast is what I was most looking forward to B III. We aren’t big breakfast guys. I don’t want to get sick at the Day Job, and you would be all “Now My Watch Begins.” Then again, “Pancake” was your nickname. I bought the good bacon and sausage for you. But the “Boys In Blue?” Talk about paranoia B, and I would if you were here. You are here. I keep having to remind myself of that. Then I would keep myself out of trouble. I’m trying B, yup. But the boss man leaves, a call to the office, I swear a cashier said, COP. If anything, I only want to go on my terms. Braxton, my little boy, that choice was made for you.

Blinding myself with tears, I’m sorry. It’s another thing that happens every day, no matter what. This would be twice today. Yesterday I was talking about how I can never stay awake. If I take an afternoon nap, I look to your corner, Braxton, as soon as I wake up. I should be spending bucks on a Cuddle Clone, a tattoo, a chain. I spend it on boobs, Yabbos, and a lack of UK titties. I don’t sleep nude; usually, I told Cherry. Again where’s all my money going? Anyway, I only have to survive another half-day, Braxton, then it’s us. “Whatever, Daddy.” I can hear you now. You’d huff or bark, knowing again I would be sleeping or writing the days away. But together

Being father and son, brothers, best friends. How I miss those days B III. I wish I could remember them more, and it’s not like I’m forgetting. I can’t focus on the Day Job anymore while other people break the rules. I’m getting why you barked at everyone. My world. Breathing in it, though, is getting harder by the day. 312 to be specific. Today I was laying out your treat and realized there are so few left. They might not last another week. I should start another tribute. A picture frame, one for each week. 52 is a lot. Hell, I pay Cherry, order B-dubs, visit PetSmart once a week B. And I love you every day ending in Y. Days Ending With B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 160 ~B Not Ashamed Today~

Today was uneventful at the Day Job. Not a win, but it could have been far worse. I’m ashamed I had to go to such a place but not what I did getting back to the house. For the love of money, for the love of Braxton. B Not Ashamed Today

Wednesday, December 8, 2021

Chronicle 160 ~B Not Ashamed Today~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and like the others, have I no shame, have I no honor? I don’t have Braxton.

That fact alone bothers me more than anything. Looking at the date, I see I missed any remembrance of Pearl Harbor. Way before my time, of course, but history lessons? Inspector, I haven’t forgotten my Ma’s birthday yet. I should put an alert on the phone to be safe. Do I even have the money to get her anything? A present from B and me. Inspector, I’m not bothered by all that begging I did the other day with Cherry yesterday. Hell, I’m a guy, and I like Yabbos. Everything I’ve ever wanted from this world is not for me. If anything, I should be grateful for days like today. Say it with me “Humiliations Galore.” Only when there’s nothing of real merit Inspector Echo.

Nothing of real merit. Like my body? The things that happen since I have claimed monk status once again. It hasn’t even been thirty days yet and tonight is a hard one if you catch my meaning. Find a way to survive the night. I want to go back to I Am Legend, for real. Braxton and I never hid in a bathtub. With him around, I was never scared for myself. Well, no, that’s a lie in a way. I was afraid that I would leave him alone. I stay alive for him. If he sees me now. Sad that he’s the only one who does, meaning find clothes. Inspector, this afternoon I was back to Stuff And Thangs after a month. NaNoWriMo season.

That’s how I should be making my money with writing. How long have I had this blog? How about all that money I paid to have Gulp published? NaNoWriMos completed? Instead, it’s like I’m content to waste another decade at the Day Job. Even if every day was like today, it’s still Hell. My very own Skid Row, and here I am playing Seymour Krelborn. I keep telling myself I’ll do anything to escape, which means this… Stay Awake. Inspector, I would rather be naked, isn’t that so? As long as I sleep uninterrupted. Inspector, that’s what I should be ashamed of. Waking up because B III needs me is one thing, but my fucking Day Job? The promise of fries. B Not Ashamed Today.

311 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 159 ~Happy To B Together~

Happy, I’ve never been able to define it with all the books I’ve read. Of course, there’s that one moment doing what guys do. I’m sure if I had the billions I seek. If Braxton suddenly found his way back to me. Happy To B Together

Tuesday, December 7, 2021

Chronicle 159 ~Happy To B Together~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and there was a time I believed that would make me happier than anything. B III…

Fur is murder. Those words are never going to sound the same to me ever again. I’ll never buy you a fur coat. You know I feel some sort of way about hunting. Unless we’re talking about “The Most Dangerous Game.” I miss watching movies with you. B between us. Always was, and he will always be. 310 Days and his fur is still everywhere. Not anybody’s fault. Well, ok, mine, seeing as how I hate to lose any little piece of him. I still have a tuft of his fur. I dropped my pendant a few days ago and panicked like people and smartphones. You would think our phones keep us together. For me, it was Braxton and now you. Um, so happy together.

That’s something I will always regret. I wasn’t “happy” with Braxton. Hell, the last time I fibbed about being happy, I was a kid, and my Olds took my sister and me to Walt Disney World. I said I was happy. Well, Love, Disney. Being The Happiest Place On Earth. Finland, I think, has dibs on the reality. Here’s something not looked up, Baby Girl. Individuals that say you have to be happy with yourself. People can’t make you happy. You have to love yourself, accept who you are. I never did anything like such. But B III made me ok. I mean, if he’s A-ok, he’s alive, life is ok, then I’m not doing half bad, I know. Because we’d be together, always, forever.

“I’m not sure. But I always read that you had to be ok with yourself first before you could be ok with another person. Now I feel ok with you. But I don’t know how ok I was with myself before I met you, so maybe you’re making me ok.

You’re not that ok.

Ok.” ― Defending Your Life

It was the promise I made him the very day we had our own place. Then I had to let him go. THEY say it’s the best thing to do. What’s that saying? Let them go, and if they return, then they’re yours forever. The fact that you’re still here. Always and forever. Old soul. I can’t define happy but together. It could mean existing now but loving and living? Together Baby Doll, you and me always, our family. I can’t afford to lose everything. Sometimes, all there is, My Love, is putting one foot in front of the other. B III had his four. Yet, I’m the tired one. And he got eternal rest, my son. To be happy someday. Happy To B Together

310 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 158 ~Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won~

Pick up your cross peace is found at the lance’s point. Pens are mightier than swords. All I want is to carry my son. A season of peace, but I hate Christmas, like the dude in Succubus Christmas Special. I’ll behave, but Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won

Monday, December 6, 2021

Chronicle 158 ~Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won~

Two-Hundred and Seventeenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that counts as winning. You don’t get “better” than that, as far as I can see.

To be honest, today, I don’t feel like fighting anymore. One more reason I had Braxton. A son shouldn’t fight his father’s battles, but how often will I say this? I’m out for the count, and there he is, watching over me. Braxton’s protection. A toy dog? Toy Soldier. Madam, I’m not wise. So they say, um, grief is love with no place to go. Oh, ok, true enough. The same can be said with rage. My rage is justice that can never be served, but it stays, Madam. I feel like fucking Oceania. That might be a decent stripper name, but I don’t mean it like that. It’s more like George Orwell’s “1984.” The war inside myself is continuous, and I didn’t even start this shit. It’s not fair.

All’s fair in love and war, and I don’t want either. At least I don’t want to be alone, J. As the song goes, “before you start a war, you better know what you’re fighting for.” Again “don’t put your blame on me.” I’m sick of it, and yet I stay. There’s nothing else, Madam. So why not try winning? If anything, why not try fighting at all? Today’s example… Madam, when I was “young,” and of course you know this tale, but I was in the navy a bit. I thought I would find my manhood somehow with serving. Three weeks later… Sigh. Anyway, today, a coworker busted her lip after slipping on the floor. And me being a gentleman… Gotcha, I stayed put.

A good man would have helped her. A brave man wouldn’t have spent all day hiding as the womenfolk went rushing into the rain. After a decade of wasting his life, a real man would be running that place. Yes, I’m fighting a war, Madam, against grief, rage, and fear. Going all Yoda on your ass? Ass, I’ll behave, Madam, Nineteen Days, Cherry, Carolina Bound might be pissed. So here I am, my enemies are known, in a war I never asked for. And if you told me I could stop fighting? Thirty-seven years and at least I ain’t dead. 309 Days without my son, brother-in-arms, and tireless defender. To accept that I can win this without Braxton… UNACCEPTABLE. But Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won.

309 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 157 ~Time To B Wasted~

I don’t drink… much. If anything, I refer you to “Drunk On You.” A big thanks to Braxton’s Aunt (not my actual sister.) I owe her TWO big thumbs up for keeping me UP a little longer. I went to bed at a reasonable hour though still… “Time To B Wasted”

Sunday, December 5, 2021

Chronicle 157 ~Time To B Wasted~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would say if you listened to your motivations… Hate to tell you, but that’s illegal.

The start of a new week, and you haven’t stopped ranting, raving about “air pods.” Brother, I don’t blame you. No wonder you took a chance to cover your shift. Should have done it yesterday, but that was my own cowardice, my apologies to you. Anyway, if you could listen to your air pods at the Day Job, it would only be to people’s reactions. There’s nothing wrong with that, I know. It’s only the facts these past few days. If not that, then how about crying for your son again. Here you are all dressed up with nowhere to go. You even shaved, and for what? Hell, you counted out $310.00 in your wallet. No doggies at PetSmart. But movement on Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading A Sincere Warning About the Entity in Your Home
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 011 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 017 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Nope, I was, and indeed you are wasting time. Can you imagine if you added a puppy to the mix? Speaking of mixing, don’t you have shrimp waiting for you in the sink. You have a mouth to feed since even breathing seems to be a time suck. Rather starve? Dammit! If it means going to the Day Job, which seems more and more inevitable. The time is winding down. Again, this is all my fault. Fear, friend, stands as one fucking waste of time. Pardon your language. Meaning to say something else but corrections? Shouldn’t I say erections? Didn’t you start writing at 1:00 PM and now 2:20? Can’t I be proud of you for at least finishing your reading? Not, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Succubus Christmas Special (LitRpg)
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 017 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

As you never ever have time for them. Or at least that’s what you’ll keep telling yourself. When it comes to getting out of work, you’ll have all the time in the world. Whether it be the Day Job, writing; this conversation we should have. You will always find something. Being a father, though. To be Braxton’s daddy again. I’ll never forget those last days. Every breath he took, there was not a single second taken for granted. Do you recall love doesn’t tell time? Um, when you’re dying? That’s why you’re a stickler timewise. Chronomentrophobia. You fear you have way too much time for THEM. What you have for yourself… wasted. And B III died because he wasn’t given enough. Time To B Wasted

308 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 156 ~B Feet Gives Paws~

Like father like son, Me and B III like and get annoyed with the same things. We both like boobs and hate feet. Then it came to his paws, and I did everything in my power to protect his and stay on my feet with my horrific Day Job. B Feet Gives Paws.

Saturday, December 4, 2021

Chronicle 156 ~B Feet Gives Paws~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so when I say stuff like that title. No matter what, I’m still pretty damn funny.

Didn’t I say sometime this week I hate being funny? I also hate where my feet lead me somedays. Pretty much my Day Job, PetSmart, and preparing to live my life as such. In other words, errands. So, of course, that’s what I was doing today. Um, after PetSmart Lu. We’ll get to that. But first, a confession. Hell, not even that. A simple fact. I HATE FEET. It’s just the way I am, Lunalesca. Call it a personal preference like having a thing for brunettes, before them Asian women. Or being a breast man. All women have breasts, Lu. Okay, to some degree, at least. Women have feet too. Yet I adore one and hate the other, I swear. Reasons women don’t like me…

So what does this have to do with my son as everything does? Going on 307 days. How about his 15 years of life? Well, this morning, I’m going into PetSmart, and I see this familiar van that carries some of the dogs, I believe. I walk in, but they aren’t at their usual spot. Needless to say, I was pissed, which is my standard mood. But since I look at the kitties too, I keep going. And I hear the dogs barking in the distance. They moved their cages. Anyway, I started my window shopping and then it hit me looking at the smallest. Cinderella, I swear that’s where I heard this Lady Lu but “Your Feet’s Too Big.” Or paws in this instance.

Yes, I can be a fucking snob, shallow, or some sort of messed-up guy. But I looked at those furries, and the moment I saw their paws, it was an instant “NO” from me. One of the ladies said they would have different dogs tomorrow. Recovering Lunalesca, but trying. I do mean from the Day Job. I didn’t have it in me to try and change my shifts today. That’s gross, my weakness, but what isn’t gross are Braxton’s paws. My B’s toesy wosies. He hated me touching them or rushing him to the vet when they said he stepped on a pine cone wrong. I love Chihuahuas, nice Yabbos and B’s nails clicking on hardwood floors. But Feet, no thanks? B Feet Gives Paws.

307 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 155 ~To B Humiliated Soon~

Coming soon… yeah, I should shut up now, but I would talk about “adult situations” much easier than the effing Day Job. And the fact that I will go back next week and the week after. Aren’t I ashamed… of what happened to B III? “To B Humiliated Soon”

Friday, December 3, 2021

Chronicle 155 ~To B Humiliated Soon~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I have yet to tell a comeback story. Now the humiliating ones. Oh, every day.

Will it feel like a holiday? Did I get a holiday after the past 2 days? Considering I’m counting 3 things instead of 10. My words are still a rush of nonsense but a minimum today. The General Manager, Boss Lady, is still a… I think I told you about people making rules addressing everybody but meaning you. The same comes for giving out orders, fucking truck. And in the end, you know how much I hate to be touched, Lady Sophia. Do I look like a bitch? Don’t answer that, but a fist bump? Lady Sophia, can’t people respect, hands-off? Braxton helped me come up with my rule. If you ain’t my dog, my girl, or applying? Hands-off me. Should tell that to me.

As you know, I’m a fan of a particular pornographic actress, a pretty poet. And plenty of pinup playable characters made porn by certain artists. Anyway, where is all my money going again? Only I haven’t seen a plump yabbos in weeks. Monk status regained? Yeah, Lady Sophia, when I’m not being a “holy roller,” it’s like I’m one of the dead or the Reaper himself. Tomorrow as routine, I’m heading to PetSmart again. Now, this isn’t the point, but my shame when I left without Braxton and then with him in a doggie bag. That was not funny, I know, my Lady, but I’m all cried out for now. Hell, I’m somewhat surprised steam isn’t coming from my eyes in all my rage, geez.

Rage leaves you nowhere to hide. Can’t see the forest for the trees? All that is left is me. If Stuff & Thangs taught me anything. It’s that I’m not scared necessarily, Sophia. Dammit, next week with all my clothes on is much worse. Than writing, wanking, and working out how to keep my head above water. The idea of drowning in reality, creepy. Take that how you will. I even worry about the dumb stuff, like someone asking me what book I’m reading. Well, ‘tis the season, so Sophia, witness, Succubus Christmas Special. Lady Sophia, it’s something to do while I wait for next week and more of my Humiliations Galore. The comedian is dead, but the laughs keep coming. To B Humiliated Soon

306 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 154 ~From B’s To Effs~

No one is above the law… Well, white guys with lots of money. Or an asshole who likes to wear earphones. A chick, having full-blown conversations on the phone while on the clock. But anything that brings me peace? Air pods? From B’s To Effs

Thursday, December 2, 2021

Chronicle 154 ~From B’s To Effs~

305 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day was effed up with a capital F. The worst day of my life?

Of course not, B. Always and Forever, I love you like pancakes, but your last day, Sunday, January 31, 2021, is my worst. I still use that day as the bar. If I survived that day, then today was nothing. It’s how I know I’m not suicidal. Well, I’m always a little, but I’m still breathing. That leads me to Emergence Day, which is a step down from your death. Me being given life. In the words of Captain Deladier (Starship Troopers). “Someone made a BIG goddamn mistake!” My Olds. But isn’t today supposed to be about you and me, Braxton? If it were more about you back then… Anyway, like yesterday I have ten more for the Humiliations Galore.

  1. Paranoia, um, the boss got called into the office. Oh no, it’s the cops, but it wasn’t B III
  2. Paranoia, I thought I got bit by a spider. It would serve me right.
  3. Remember all those rules the Manager went over yesterday. Yeah, only apply to me.
  4. Then she went over the same rules as other people broke them. That bitch
  5. I had to hear about my ineptitude twice today fucking crappy praise from supervisors
  6. I couldn’t point out garbage bags. But after all, your daddy is a waste
  7. I couldn’t help a customer find a Hallmark ornament
  8. Here’s a big one, lying about being pissed about #3 through #5
  9. Used the restroom at the Day Job, so I’m pretty grody. No shower after, room’s gross
  10. I got a KAREN at work today over some shoes. What’s My Age Again?

So what would be your advice Little B? First off, stop doing things that will get me arrested and fired so I’d end up leaving you. I’m not a white man with money. Again rules apply to me and no one else. Take a damn shower so I can cuddle you. I did get McDonald’s today, so you would have never forgiven me for showering first. Tell the damn truth. You would use silence to lie B, like father like son. It’s sad though, I say your name to avoid cursing my entire life. But honestly, B III, eff my life. From B’s To Effs

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 153 ~About Last Lie Braxton~

I told B the truth most of his days. Ringing a doorbell, or you’re not in trouble, B; there’s no pill in the peanut butter, cheese, or hot dog. Then a Wednesday like this one, I told the truth when his truth was he was dying. “About Last Lie Braxton”

Wednesday, December 1, 2021

Chronicle 153 ~About Last Lie Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now so that I by no means have to relive this day. I told Braxton, “Shush It.”

“Merciful Father, I have squandered my days with plans of many things. This was not among them. But at this moment, I beg only to live the next few minutes well.” ― The 13th Warrior

I want to talk about and yet don’t want to talk about his death. The last lies I told Braxton. But again, it was a day like today when he was crying, and I grabbed him up. I cuddled him and slept like the dead. I, of course, found him on guard duty. Humiliations Galore… I told Braxton all of them that day, as I’ll share these with you. What B III died listening to.

One. The floor pads/rugs, whatever were replaced at the Day Job because I was STUPID. Two, getting ragged on by two bitches in the stockroom. There were two different supervisors.

Three, standing there like a fucking idiot just laughing and smiling like a damn clown. Four, you know how I despise those cowards that can’t call a person out. So they make arbitrary rules to be a bigot, a racist, a zealot, an asshole, or again fucking STUPID. How I hate that word. Anyway, the manager goes all-in on “air pods” and phones Inspector. Did I mention who bought a new pair of headphones and uses them pretty religiously?

Five, someone tried to steal my work cart while I was working, making me look stupider. Six, this associate asked me for help, and I did after my babbling, mumbling bumbling. Seven, to further point out my ineptitude, I get undue praise from a manager. Dumbass. Eight, I failed in helping a customer and got embarrassed in front of “Customer Service.” Nine, I ignore another customer who eventually tracks me down for help with the kiosk. Ten, being called out in front of people for my air pods. I fear to touch my phone at all.

I had to keep a list Inspector, and even now, I’m sure I’m missing a few. What about my shame outside of the Day Job? Well, as you can see, I gained every NaNoWriMo badge. Did I write 50,000 words? YES, 50,200 almost. Did I write every day for NaNoWriMo? Hell no! I didn’t get 1,667 words each day. I didn’t write for so many days in a row. On the 30th, I checked to see I “got” every badge. It hurts less to lie to them than to my son. I was honest; I tried. About Last Lie Braxton

304 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 152 ~What B Doesn’t Know~

STUPIDITY is a disease like any other, but that’s not what took B III. Hell, compared to me, he was a genius, and yet he stayed, and a girl here or there decided hmm he’ll do. What B Doesn’t Know is he always was my priority

Tuesday, November 30, 2021

Chronicle 152 ~What B Doesn’t Know~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but Braxton didn’t know he was priceless. That anything and everything would come back to him.

Well, B III didn’t know when he liked a girl and invited her to the bedroom… Now, how many was that again? That he would be losing his side of the bed for the most part, ha. Braxton didn’t know that someone could cook well kitchen wise and he wouldn’t have to hide, fearing the worst. Braxton watched his grandma, but that was many years ago. It’s impossible that his best friend; didn’t rule the galaxy. When I was at the old Day Job trying to shut out the Humiliations Galore surrounding me, I’d think of us, Vader and Luke. If anything, Braxton and I were more C-3PO and R2-D2. You can guess which is which. Only come Star Wars Day and Sunday, he knew to shut-up Daddy’s watching TV.

Braxton didn’t know that he’d like another pair of Yabbos as much as his aunt’s. B III and I were very much the same in that aspect as I’m sure you know more than anyone. Braxton didn’t know whose side to take when it came to “Stuff and Thangs.” And why I would shut him out of our room when he wasn’t so bad. When did showers take so long? Braxton didn’t know why he had to work that much harder to cuddle me. Or why he now had two people full-time with protection detail. I gave Braxton “The Talk.” Somehow though, and you’ve heard me say this. I would sit on the loveseat, and he would put his toy next to me and sleep.

Braxton didn’t know he was too smart for his own good. He’s loved some questionable people in his day… his grandfather. Hell, what about me. My Little B loves me. Leaving on a jet plane? I’m more a fan of “Said you sailed a big ship. Said you sailed away.” The fact that my son gained his wings, however, people want to say it. It was him, Love, B III. B must know that you love me. And as I can’t figure out why he had to leave like that. I can’t figure out why he loves me or why you do. Why I can’t believe it. Not too bright. Such is my curse to be surrounded by love and intelligence. What B Doesn’t Know

303 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will