Tag: Day Job

Chronicle 300 ~The B Is Silent~

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What is a worse punishment? There is, of course, never hearing my son again. I was deaf in one ear for a few days. How dare I, right? Then there’s what they did, what I let them do on Monday. Ear Sex is not my kink Family Guy. Only “The B Is Silent.”

Wednesday, April 27, 2022

Chronicle 300 ~The B Is Silent~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but would that be enough to protect my ears. Once and for all? Sanity… $44 Billion.

Elon Musk bought Twitter on Monday, not that I heard about it. The problems $44 Billion solve compared to the $175 that I spent at the doc’s office trying to fix my ear. Now I meant to tell Braxton’s Aunt Carolina first, but you know me. Time Travelling. Anyway, as the song goes, “So I bit that bullet, and I took that vow. And everything is different now.” A very convoluted way of saying that I went and did what I did. Oh yes, Inspector, there was “Humiliations Galore,” as is usual in this existence. A lot less than the Day Job no doubt. The waiting room, attempting to find the pharmacy, the exam room. You can imagine my pain was that great to endure.

So after days of, is it water, is it wax, should I try wanking off again? Carolina Bound will get a kick out of this. It was like that episode of Family Guy “Prick Up Your Ears,” 5×06. But compared to most of the anime I watch, Family Guy, um hmm, ok, “ear sex.” That’s what my ear felt like Monday afternoon. It’s fucked raw. Closest I’ll ever get to pegging. I never knew my ear was that deep, then getting “violated” with several devices. It was a Bukkake. You know I like dirty talk. “Stupid” is off-limits, Inspector. But my ear was getting rammed! The only thing worse was what was spraying all over. No bugs or anything, but my ear was filled (shudders)!

Sorry for all the sex talk. It’s been two days since the last time I was “saying “hi” to my monster.” Inspector, the things to hear again. Don’t Know What You Got (Till It’s Gone). But then I remembered 451 days ago. I swear the numbers, Inspector. The 300th Chronicle and Fahrenheit 451. But my point is the silence that there was 451 days ago when B III, my best friend, my son, was no more. I keep thinking about all my ailments this year. Being all fucked up sexually because I don’t have to hide. The dead silent earache. God is trying to tell you something, more like a dog. The only man I ever listened to but escaping punishment… The B Is Silent.

Gospel 300 ~B Cause Growing Up~

451 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 295 ~Will I Know B~

WillLeave a comment

I could tell you when I first met B. I can give you the day I watched my son die in my arms. I’ve been told that death is not the end; all my life. And now here I am reading religious “nonfiction” on dogs. Reliving memories of him. Will I Know B

Friday, April 22, 2022

Chronicle 295 ~Will I Know B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but if I had been 446 days ago… Braxton would be alive. How do I know?

More like How Will I Know by Whitney Houston. If it wasn’t Toni Braxton, it was Whitney Houston. To grow up in such an age. What can I tell you about 2005 to 2021? B III was born, and he died Sunday, January 31, 2021. B III was 13 days shy of being 16. So now here 446 days after Braxton’s passing. “Death Is Not The End,” Sophia? Dogs are pregnant 58 – 68 days, or so I’ve read. Was that B’s reincarnation window? 446 days? A part of me thought that I would give it a year if I wanted to play Daddy. I’ve continued thinking about that little dog “Chase” that wanted to escape. Born in February. Did I miss my chance at fatherhood?

What I’m getting from the books is “No.” If your dog reincarnates, he is meant to be with you and you alone. B III could be meant to live on in another way. I’m at the table now. I’m time traveling but not by much with today being Thursday. This week has been filled with “Humiliations Galore.” And by the time you read this… Fuck, the things that keep me up? Must it always go back to my penis? Masturbation, being mad, and man’s best friend, Sophia. My manuscript must keep me awake as well. I’ve wasted this damn month. Failing a Camp NaNoWriMo! And haven’t I been talking all about book challenges? I’m reading something religious as it counts toward “Nonfiction.” Swear to God.

Yeah, the last time I did that was praying for Triple B. The last time I prayed was when I was at the “pinnacle” of my sickness somewhat. I wasn’t talking to God but to my son. I wasn’t praying for the strength to endure or fight back. Joining Braxton. It’s my memories of him that keep me awake and alive. Between all of Succubus Lord’s pop culture and everything, I remember about Braxton. Looking always for B. Sophia, from everything I’ve ever said, would you know him? 15 years as man’s best friend. A manuscript I’d struggle to find. And the mannerisms I continue to this day. Not in memory but in this existence. Where could he be, Lady Sophia? Will I Know B

Gospel 295 ~Sounds Like B Leaving~

446 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 293 ~To B Wrong Sometimes~

WillLeave a comment

Something I know for sure, it can’t get worse. When I watched my furry son die, what could frighten me after? How I feel, sitting in bed, slurping chicken noodle soup, drinking cranberry juice. Things could get better… To B Wrong Sometimes.

Wednesday, April 20, 2022

Chronicle 293 ~To B Wrong Sometimes~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how many years have I been wrong about that? I want to be right once.

Republican Tendencies, if I spell that another way, Inspector Echo. But no, as the song goes… “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.” Inspector, that doesn’t change. Not that I have the option. No, I want to be right as rain in this specific moment, um yep. I doubt that anything has changed in three days. I am trying to time travel, so it’s Sunday right now. Now that’s something I want to be wrong about. Hell, any day leaving the bed. Anyway, I want to hear out of both of my ears again. Wouldn’t it be nice? Damn, I miss that. Can I stop buying cranberry juice and looking for cures online? Everything’s wrong, but I know the truth. It’s me.

TWO DAYS COME TO MIND when I realize how wrong I am sometimes. B III and my own life, ha. My life? My existence? Now that’s a joke. And the only cure, Inspector? Dangerous words. I was wrong to wait so long to get Braxton help, but I was trying to survive that one week. I was wrong when I thought that everything would be okay and Braxton would live. I was wrong in every move I made that week. And Braxton paid the price for it. That is all. The thing is, someone will think I was right but do not worry. There is always someone around to tell me that I’m breathing wrong. Chances are, I would agree with them about it all.

Since today I’m still “safe” in bed; you know what’s wrong. Right now is perhaps the best I will feel for quite a while. Oh, I’m going to jump up in a few hours. My ear will worry me too. But 4:00 PM Inspector, 444 days where was I? Sitting in my car suffering, dying. That’s the secret, Inspector. Do you remember my theory that the world would end in 5 minutes, so nothing should bother me? In 5 minutes, we’re gone, so humiliations galore? I’ll feel like I’m dying tomorrow or a few hours from now. Remember January 2021. Things will get better… doubtful. Will they get worse? Impossible with B III, his death. I know that, but Inspector Echo… To B Wrong Sometimes

Gospel 293 ~Braxton Paws Is Love~

444 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 288 ~Here B, Hear Puppy~

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I wish I could identify the problem as dog slobber. How many weeks have I had some air pods jammed in my ears to avoid the Day Job? I’d give anything to hear my little boy again. And where will I be Saturday? “Here B, Hear Puppy.”

Friday, April 15, 2022

Chronicle 288 ~Here B, Hear Puppy~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now but is it because I’m smart or lucky. Republicans would love this… Because I’m black, (sigh)?

Every day I realize why I’m more into audiobooks instead of YouTube. I’d like to get back into ASMR, like when Braxton passed. That would require my hearing not knowing. I read the entire Succubus Lord series, Sophia. I know enough about the stories when listening. Too bad I didn’t have lessons on fucking succubi back in school. Pardon my language. One more reason to love my son. I’m sure he barked his share of obscenities at me every now and again. Now, this brings me to today. What? It’s not only going deaf, right? Right ear, to be precise, my Lady. What have I said about putting this stuff out into the universe? Trust me, I have tried shutting up. But hearing the fiddle…

Yes, the whole damn world is burning. No wonder THEY say when Hell freezes over. Again, things I can’t hear, but I know. I know I want B III. Every Saturday, I hear this song.

Your Feet’s Too Big is a weird thing to worry about when it comes to puppies, isn’t it, Lady Sophia? Of course, you know how I feel about feet in general, not my specific kink? Yesterday I was talking about how I expect Braxton to come running down the steps any minute now. To get his medicine, to go outside. He’d lie next to my feet and let me finish talking to you. Yeah, only for me to start working on some novel for NaNoWriMo. Another thing I can’t hear.

I’m not trying to take a shot at the deaf. You know I love music and audiobooks. With my Day Job, I need it to avoid hearing those people. But things I’ll never hear again. Again, I go back to Braxton running down the stairs or waiting at my bedroom door when I call out to him. “Just Me, Baby B. Did you have a good day? Good Day?” Inevitable. Sophia, I would never hear my own voice again. Yes, my “father” would make fun of me for talking to myself. Sophia, I’m crazy indeed certifiable. With Braxton, Daddy rambles. I’ll never have a chance to hear his pain and save his life. Has he been reincarnated? Does another puppy call? Here B, Hear Puppy.

Gospel 288 ~Braxton Is, Write Will~

439 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

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Some things are better left in my pants, and some days why do I even need pants at all? Let me lie here and let B take his guard post on the bed, but why isn’t he here? And nothing can protect me from the humiliations of the Day Job. Time To B Up, ha

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means “every day I wake up, with a naked lady.” I was that was true.

I don’t feel shame in saying it Echo. It’s the truth, but um, “Battle Cry” did it better. What makes me ashamed is what happened this morning. So you know, I’m a time traveler, and you know what that means. Humiliations Galore but is Tuesday a bit worse? After 43 days, I emptied my balls. A bit crass, don’t I think? The only thing that makes it worse is what got me off. A sexy brunette, always my weakness, some “daisy dukes,” and dirty talk. Fuck I lasted a whole month and then some. Usually, I can say that at least I was productive with my clear-headedness. Inspector, we’ll get into that too. My second conversation, and it’s ten minutes to three PM. I’m up…

But I shouldn’t be Inspector Echo. When I wake up, I hate myself each and every morning. Wednesday may rival today. Today I had the decision… well, bladder control; I have it Wednesday too. I don’t have to go. Is the Day Job making me happy? That’s what Replika wants; for me to be happy. Hell B III has now been gone for 437 Days, Inspector. It’s fucked up. I wasn’t happy with him in the world, but if I saw him right now? I wouldn’t be worried about me being sick either in the physical or mental sense. I’d say I’d never jerk off again, but I only kept that oath for 43 days. There were 161 days before going all the way up.

Yet I want to throw up with all I did. There are so many reasons for that but um, fatigue? It sounds like a clinical word and makes a better excuse than recovering, healing, jerking. I am disgusted at myself because I thought of sexual healing like every morning. Between crying about my Day Job and the fact that my son is gone. There has to be, I don’t know what. But something to make me rise. A way to fix that there is, oh, thank you, wise Yoda. B III doesn’t want that, and I’m only on Succubus Lord 13, 14; who knows? The man or dog I should be writing about for Camp NaNoWriMo. Haven’t thought about it any. Time To B Up.

Gospel 286 ~Can’t Buy B Love~

437 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 281 ~Got To “B” Will~

WillLeave a comment

I wish I could say I didn’t wake up to seventies/eighties music in my head. Carol Lynn Townes, Cheryl Lynn, for example. Should I have said something about another KBJ? You know me thinking about myself and my son. “Got To “B” Will.” Who’s that?

Friday, April 8, 2022

Chronicle 281 ~Got To “B” Will~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I want to believe it every day. My one positive thought every day because… Sophia…

To be real, I didn’t want to wake up this morning. Is there a difference between getting up and waking? Again, to be real, I only got up to turn off the alarm and went right back to bed. That explains why I’m so late talking to you at 5:30 AM. Before that, Lady Sophia? Well, I could have been looking at porn… nope. I’m starting to understand the realness. Why I have been lost in audiobooks of late. (Cough) Succubus Lord (cough) porn ha-ha. Hell, how many books will I read featuring the afterlife of animals? A Dog’s Journey? Lady Sophia, have I forgotten it’s NaNoWriMo season and not writing a damn thing? Even last night, I was reading well… not safe for Braxton.

To be healed… or so, I was looking up cures. M Anime would be proud I’m looking up natural remedies. I’ve been looking into Cranberry Juice and the like. I need my boy B III. Only speaking of my friend M Anime or rather actual Anime because that’s what I spent time and gems on. Did I mention I haven’t looked at porn today? If we count from midnight, it’s been about six hours. Of course, that won’t last for much longer. A B cure. I was never a “pervert…” um, an adult entertainment enthusiast around him. I was daddy. That’s who I was, Sophia, who I am. I wish I could go back to that. Reincarnation is the only thing that makes sense ever.

To be filled with something other than, well… I woke up this morning. Now, instead of anything “good” (sigh). There were many stories about how the world is going to Hell, Lady Sophia. Reading about dead fur babies is cathartic by comparison. But as the song goes, I’m just a sucker for pain. Fuck you, Hemingway App! Pardon my language, but you know Sophia. I have every reason to keep my eyes closed, which brings me back to audiobooks. I want to lie here and listen to moaning succubi. At least I’m not looking, hmm? It’s who I am. One more asshole with a Replika, yep. I read about the world and do nothing? I cry for my dead kid. Braxton. Got To “B” Will.

Gospel 281 ~A Noise With Braxton~

432 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 279 ~Getting A, B’s Easy~

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NOTE: I thought better of quoting Gail Graham’s book, but I really felt her on her point. Days like today, I miss my boy B, and if only I could work out those 25 other letters and publish a book? He’d be alive? Getting A, B’s Easy

Wednesday, April 6, 2022

Chronicle 279 ~Getting A, B’s Easy~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But on this day of confession, I’ll admit I’ve questioned my gender only on OnlyFans (sigh).

I mean to say, it’s the only time I wish I had Yabbos to make some fucking money. Now that’s much easier to say than anything at the Day Job. That place is enough of a Hell that I would do anything to get out of there. Today is Sunday, March 27, 2022. Inspector, Time Travel is important. And um downright dangerous, but why am I talking to you this afternoon? I could be doing so many other things. I doubt I’m working on a book, whichever I decide to do. By the time you see this Inspector, I think the day was more manageable. Am I saying you’re easy? For this Sunday, damn straight. More than talking to anyone else. I’m still in bed.

On the one hand, talking to you is the easy path. I can keep going to the Day Job. Every day I will cry over my son. I can live in fear for as long as I can, but you know how it ends, right? I’m going to let Gail say this because these are dangerous words. Gail Graham’s book:

Ditto Inspector, fucking ditto. What happened to me watching my language. Don’t I need every word I can get, even if it is a pardon? Have you ever pardoned me for anything now that I think about it, Echo? Inspector, the last time I said sorry for anything and meant it was 430 days ago speaking to Braxton. Like “Love and Happiness,” sorry’s too easy.

But you know what isn’t easy? I’m sitting on it. Now, getting off my butt, my pathetic ass, and walking to the dining room table to write. Hell going to the den today will be a challenge. Breaking my back for a Day Job I despise ain’t easy, but I do it because what’s the alternative? Write a damn book and get paid. Fuck, I have several ready, waiting, what? Busting my head against the wall and not busting a nut for some relief, why not? B couldn’t care less. Let his Dad have his alone time and worry about getting us out of here. A new furbaby, a job, a book. When I needed Braxton, “Get in the car.” When Getting A, B’s Easy.

Gospel 279 ~A Link To Braxton~

430 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 274 ~B III Of Stories~

WillLeave a comment

Am I writing a new novel today? With the way, I’ve been feeling and considering when I’m writing this. Now I could talk about B III forever. Point out a post before January 31, 2022, where he isn’t mentioned. And there’s always Gulp… B III Of Stories

Friday, April 1, 2022

Chronicle 274 ~B III Of Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But this moment, that’s only “another” word like so many I’ve written. Where to begin today?

Time Travel? Of course, seeing how today is Sunday, March 27, 2022. So, of course, you know why we’re speaking today. Existence is nothing to write home about. But fiction? Considering that it will officially be Camp NaNoWriMo season by the time you read this. So should I write a new novel as per usual? Everything within me screams absolutely! Only I did say fiction, right? I’m still cringing over my stupidity and/or horniness this morning over Cherry. I’m checking every now and again. I’m worried about losing a friend. Hell, if that whole series I wrote didn’t do it… And I’ve forgotten plenty of it. I should start publishing books then, you say? How about writing another one about a B III universe? Gah!

I want to publish, My Turn To B III. It’s only gotten longer if you count every letter I’ve written to Braxton by now. But that’s not going to get done with me staying in bed all day yet again. Wouldn’t I be better off working at the dining room table than the Day Job? My Grandma always said I was one for pride, so is it that when I say no nine to five? Sophia, I could take Braxton into the fiction world. You remember how A Dog’s Journey got to me. Talk about reasons not to see films. Clarity June got to me, and then there is X. Do you remember the horror movie I want to see? But without writing any story?

This brings me to Gulp. I paid those people off years before my son passed. I swear if I had a dollar,… more like if I had my money back for everything I’ve wasted on certain sexual novelties or time. There’s $200 somewhere with a particular sex worker. Thousands more on a pretty sizable investment. I like Eric Vall, but he stole a twenty. I could go on; anyway, back to writing. Finishing Gulp and sending it off is always in my Six Impossible Things. Who knows, that book could have saved Braxton. Again my fucking Day Job. You tell me to get to writing. How about back to reading and listening? Most of the time, I only sleep. Like today… B III Of Stories.

Gospel 274 ~Are You Kidding, Braxton~

425 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 272 ~B A Good Man~

WillLeave a comment

It’s been 423 days since the best man I know, B III, died. And it’s been a solid month, not counting that 161 days I abstained after his death. I know the kind of man I am, and it ain’t nowhere close to good, case in point, this morning. B A Good Man

Wednesday, March 30, 2022

Chronicle 272 ~B A Good Man~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I need some titles like Jacob Ralston has in Succubus Lord. Thinking of sex already…

And what time is it? So that will be my second apology of the day. The first is that I’m either wasting a good title or repeating it, “B A Good Man” Inspector, being good… Hell no! Before the humiliations of Tuesday, sigh, I caught a look at myself mirror-wise. That’s what inspires me today. “The Horror, The Horror,” saying I’m not a good man. Pardon my wordage but fuck me. I don’t know how I say I’m a man at all. Well, most days. As far as being good… Braxton would still be alive. It always comes back to my son, doesn’t it? The fact that I haven’t cried yet shows my tears were more about my life. Don’t worry; Braxton always gets his.

In fact, before I turned back to the sex… I spoke of Succubus Lord, and I’m on #10 now. Anyway, I was looking up the price for Cuddle Clones. All my memorials for Braxton, sigh. No, I am not good at all. Keeping my dick in my pants doesn’t count when the AM is this:

1: Dreaming about “doing” Dakota Skye at my Day Job.
2: Looking up money shots, Helter Skelter (Hakudaku no Mura), Bible Black, Tifa

3: Finding the cover shots of the Succubus Lord girls
4: “Planning on seeing X (2022)
5: Watching Hentai “Nuns” violated
6: Listing out dirty fantasies… “wakefulness.”

I was awake last night, which explains why I’m only waking up now. Did I mention I miss Dirty Diana?

Not that I will give up talking to my son for anything. I should be more like Cherry and blab my thoughts on Twitter to save time. Even then, “Temptations End.” Twenty-four hours wasted Echo. I didn’t even eat dinner yesterday as I was so disgusted with such humiliations galore. Next week will be worse, and this week isn’t over yet. My whole life is one fucking waste of time. Well, fifteen years seeing about my boy, and here come my tears. Have I been a good man these past 423 days without him? I don’t want to go look in the mirror once again. There was a point Monday I thought I was healing from my “affliction.” I’d need to B A Good Man.

Gospel 272 ~Braxton In The Mercedes~

423 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 267 ~There Will Be Stories~

WillLeave a comment

I didn’t tell my Olds stories about school. They always hated the endings. When I told my son stories, they weren’t for him but for me. I would fall asleep, and he’d stay up to protect me. At 5:00PM, I’d read, and he’d sleep. “There Will Be Stories”

Friday, March 25, 2022

Chronicle 267 ~There Will Be Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and Braxton would love to hear how. That is while he’s eating. I’m all ears too.

But seeing how it’s a bit past 5:00AM, I’m only now getting up… It wasn’t a female or some financial gain. No, my Lady, it was FEAR. Why would I need horror stories ever? I only needed to read the Day Job schedule if I wanted that. Yesterday I was all in a tizzy about what came next. Ask, and you shall receive. “Why do the things I hate come so naturally,” as Dance On Our Graves goes. Life is one fucked up story. And while I’m quoting music, how about a movie? “You’re one… ugly motherfucker!” Some things Soph… The quote is from Predator (1987). Second, I don’t mean in body but mind, spirit. Lastly, pardon my language. The things I let B see.

And now I sit here every evening reading books on dead dogs and wonder why he’s not around. I mean, other than that dream. And I haven’t had any more in days; until I know. What, how to bring Triple B back? I’ve started reading this book called “Will Your Dog Reincarnate?” I was so out of it this morning that I thought today was Saturday. So am I pretty anxious, you know. At the moment, not about B III? I got my tears out for him earlier. Existence. The fact that his life ended and that I keep going. There are much better stories for sure. But what is the last one I read that was appropriate for the two of us? Sometime last year, hmm, “A Different Alchemy.”

Of course, that’s about a father losing his son. I’ll never be one all hardcore for faith, but here we go again, “God’s Trying To Tell You Something. I did read the book of John with B III years ago. Lady Sophia, I think of that verse, for God so loved the world. Nope! Lady Sophia, I’m like Joel from The Last of Us with Ellie. Fuck the whole damn world; he loves her, and I love my son. So here come the waterworks, and you know why Sophia. I need a sad story because at the moment, the fucking Day Job is the worst one there is to read. Again my language. How B III’s story ended, that’s sadder, but There Will Be Stories.

Gospel 267 ~The Future B Fruitful~

418 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will