Tag: Day Job

Chronicle 176 ~B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting~

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I wish tonight I’d be reading a Christmas “story.” I haven’t even picked out a new book. I should see if A Christmas Story is on TV. I could tell you about The Matrix Resurrections if I understood it… “But B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting, um one.”

Friday, December 24, 2021

Chronicle 176 ~B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it’s not for songwriting. I’ve been down that road before. Today though, this is new.

One, first and foremost, Braxton’s not here. Or he is? Geez, how long did I believe in Santa? I can’t believe in Braxton for 327 Days. Santa can take everything back if I get B. “Two girls will be upset, Will.”. Santa would say, who doesn’t look a thing like Jesus. The gift of life, Lady Sophia. Between some girl’s legs. Four boobs Soph. A threesome, a wish. Three wishes and my Olds were better capping it at ten. Yet I blame them for everything. Okay, my “father” for the most part. Then, of course, there’s B III. Not my gift but then… Four little legs came running to get in the car. Those legs followed me everywhere, and now my Braxton flies. I believe.

Five dollars was my cost of betrayal. Well over three hundred but again, who’s counting. At least Judas made thirty pieces of silver. I betrayed my God/dog for my manhood. Stuff and Thangs, my Onlyfans, all because I needed to feel something. Braxton was comfort and joy as the song goes. The Day Job brings RAGE. Here’s to mindless pleasures. Six in the morning, though? I want Braxton to wake me up like he once did when I had an off day. Hell, I might even go back to when my sister and I were kids with all our gifts. Seven days Lady Sophia. Can I have back the seven days when Braxton was sick? Try again? I would save him; I keep telling myself that. Give me a day in the week to enjoy. Eight days would be too much. But then again, eight orgasms? How about methods if I count up all my sex toys. And then I only want to buy more. Forgetting me. In my LUST.

Nine MM bullets? Don’t get scared. Even Carolina Bound didn’t freak out. I’m thinking about Christmas presents, and as I said, Sophia, I could use the ammo, okay. JIC right? Ten dollars’ worth of Braxton’s food is still in the refrigerator. Care to wager Sophia? Eleven girls for a brothel? Um thirteen, Thirteen Women (and Only One Man in Town). Twelve, though, my to-do list. Braxton gave me fifteen years. We counted on each other, but B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting?

327 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 169 ~B There Dead Air~

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Blah, blah, blah, all under the guise of the holiday, but that’s still a week away. I should have a new story to tell. My first Christmas without my boy or anyone. The cold bothers me, but Elsa is hot. The worst thing is the silence. B There Dead Air

Friday, December 17, 2021

Chronicle 169 ~B There Dead Air~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means Christmas should be a pretty big holiday for me. When I was a child…

Halloween? A few were spent on the streets of suburbia behind a mask ha. Others I was in a church here or there. Now, wait, aren’t I supposed to be talking about Christmas? Hell, this whole season in my life, this Mad Season, insane, inevitable? Somehow I ain’t Iron Man yet. Well, unless we’re talking about my willy. I swear, Lady Sophia, I need to treat LUST like a fucking zombie virus. If that were the idea, I would be dead now. Don’t threaten me with a good time, hmm? After my Humiliations, Galore, sigh. Is it any surprise that I’m thinking about the past Sophia? There’s the book Hold by Claire Kent. Remembering a song here or there. And now the movie Dead Air.

Thanksgiving that I have so many stories to tell myself because you know my usual. Again today, as the song goes, “work sucks, I know.” Wasn’t I talking about yesterday, the woman and her Christmas card? Now I got a bag from the Day Job. It ain’t a pink slip. I am thankful that I wrote another story this year and got all the badges to boot. Yes, I lied to get them. But what other accomplishments do I have this year? To check New Year’s resolutions. Of course, one of those was to keep my son alive. You didn’t think we would have a whole conversation without me mentioning him. 2021 is the worst year ever. That’s saying a lot, even beating out my Emergence year. No easy feat.

Christmas time, though, and as I’m sure I’ve said. If I stay out of trouble, this will be the first year I’ve ever been alone. B’s Aunt Carolina Bound said she’s coming to town to celebrate with her Dad. That also means she’s coming to see me. Smiling Faces Sometimes. I mean that more about myself than her. How have I kept it together? Impossible! Sophia, this could all be some nightmare, and I’ll wake up. Some nights I’ve believed. Of course, my go-to is that I’m dead, and this is Hell, but I’m breathing as the song goes, “I’m still breathing, I’m alive. Yet, I dream of an apocalypse. So Dead Air, Sophia? My movie night with her, without Braxton… B There Dead Air

320 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

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If I could’ve, I would’ve held my breath forever the moment B took his last. The will to live, yup. It was strong with him, too, if I hadn’t stopped it. That’s the problem. People telling me what I don’t want to hear, but B. Take A Breath Braxton, um

Thursday, December 16, 2021

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

319 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I know it’s late… 6:30 PM but you should look in on your Grandma, B.

It’s her birthday, B III, and you’ll have more of a chance to see her than me. Well, I’m being a selfish asshole, aren’t I? My interactions with her today equate to two beeps. Sending her a text and getting one back. Another reason dogs were given paws, not fingers. Braxton, I can also say this is why you were given barks, not words. I have heard talking dogs. But no matter you were the best B, always and forever. Um, you would make too much goddamn sense if you had words. Pardon my language, Day Job, and well… Humiliations Galore again. So yeah, I stuffed my face and took a nap. But do I want to talk about it, B III? How about no.

Oh, gasp, shocker, relax B. You did what my Olds couldn’t do for years. If I ever talked to them about my day? I wanted to stop breathing. You know what I mean. There was that time I didn’t eat and fell out on the floor, and you went and got them. Keep me breathing. That’s what you did, B III. You kept me breathing even when I didn’t want to. It’s getting harder to do these days. Yeah, without my tunes, I have too much time to think. Hell, for a while, I had an earworm to that song “Fly Me To The Moon.” You liked my singing B. “Now I didn’t say that,” you’d give me that look. Again allow my selfishness B.

If you had one more breath to give, I’d ask you, spend it with me and not your grandma. When I had those arguments in my head at the Day Job, I wanted to say this. “At least when my son makes a noise, he’s helping me out. You can shut the fuck up!” Language, I know B III. I’m sorry. Anger is more useful than despair, I heard somewhere. The lady in Shoes was dicking around with me today. Pitying me by giving me a Christmas card. Worse, she was “proselytizing.” It took me some time to find that word. Anyway, between that and The Christmas Nanny, Tess being all alone. Yeah, B III if you can get here somehow. Take A Breath Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 163 ~Why I Didn’t B~

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Why I didn’t bring him home, more like why didn’t I bring him back alive but you know I’m one for music and the truth. That is, if I’m not “Manifesting” the worst possible scenario for my life. Not like I’m living or trying. Why I Didn’t B.

Saturday, December 11, 2021

Chronicle 163 ~Why I Didn’t B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but why wasn’t I sooner? Uh, because you’re a fucking lazy ass? Braxton gave that look.

Only what was I talking about last week or the week before? Noticing puppy paws? Besides the paws that were too big, I also saw tails. What dog would be happy seeing the Cheshire cat smiling down on them (My Mask)? Um, only pups deserve a smile, Lady Lu. So why am I still sitting here alone? I’m over the whole “Chase” scenario. I’ll never be over Braxton, but Chase sealed it. It’s a Chihuahua or nothing. I told you I’m a dog snob. Braxton ruined me for other dog breeds, and don’t think about it like that, Lunalesca. Well below losing Braxton and my paranoia. It’s that fucking Mariah Carey song All I Want for Christmas Is You. My answer, my B III alive.

So why didn’t I try harder? Republican tendencies or more like Slave Mentality. Work hard, do what you’re told. Hell, when I’m not at the Day Job, I’m getting myself into so much trouble. One way or another, I will myself into a punishment all for B III, I know. Why didn’t I dream positive thoughts today? That’s not my motivational speeches talking… fucking Day Job. Instagram is trying to pick up the slack, sending me “inspiration” from some rich white guys. Most days, my only motivation is not to get fired from Hell, Lady Lu. Everything “I Rise” for is no damn good for me. That includes my novel, which I haven’t looked at upon completion. NaNoWriMo should kick me out, I swear Lunalesca.

Why I didn’t stop myself from lying. I wanted to win, and I did the 50,000 words ok. I did. Why I didn’t stop myself; from stuffing my face when I came back? Tradition Lunalesca. Why I didn’t live in a way that would make B III proud of me. He would still be alive. Yet the most fucked up thing I’ll say about today is this. I “Don’t Know Why” I didn’t come. Yes, we both know I have a thing for hot brunettes. Michelle Branch, Vanessa Carlton, Norah Jones, Mariah Carey, ha. Anyway, I’m still claiming monk status after what happened this morning. I didn’t come. I didn’t cum. Who am I trying to convince? Hmm. TMI right? Living? Why I Didn’t B

314 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

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Most of the stories I write end in a brothel someplace. And I won’t dare to say I’m one to write a harem romance. As for this month, I’ll only be reading Christmas “stories.” And hoping by the end, well… not looking for miracles. B There Bad Stories.

Friday, December 10, 2021

Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I’ll never tell the story of inherited wealth. I work. The Day Job’s the worst.

So I tell myself an even worse tale. Today while I was buried in boxes, of course, I thought of those last few minutes before I resigned my son to one. I ignored everything else. Sophia, if I had done that before and focused on B III, he would still be with me. I mean more than spirit. How long am I going to tell this story, hmm? Nothing’s more horrible. You’re asking about good stories. I tried that while I was buying coffee for Cherry. Sad that my paycheck has never been that big. It was only because of 3 paid vacation days, ha. America, America. If you wonder why I have been avoiding the news for some time now. End of the world…

Please, my world ended on Sunday, January 31, 2021, at around 3:30 – 3:45 PM. The Revolution Will Not Be Televised. Watch World War III On Pay TV. No, I’m not scared. Yet another lie. Now don’t get me wrong, Lady Sophia, I’m not afraid for the country. We’re beyond screwed, but no. As always, I’m one selfish prick. Always bad words. OnlyFans Lady Sophia. My Stuff and Thangs if you’re wondering where I was tonight. Well, this afternoon, for the most part. A picture is worth a thousand words or $5.00. Only where was I this morning? Besides my good deed for today, I was waiting for sirens, boots at the door. To be on the news. The one tale I don’t want to tell

Like my tears, but they always come. Today they were brought on by another book I’m reading. I’m getting into the Christmas spirit, my first one ever alone thirty-seven years. So the story is called “The Christmas Nanny” by Elizabeth Kelly. Remember I read her work last year, “The Christmas Wife.” Should I read the one with the dog? NEVER!!! Sophia, you know the stories I tell to myself at night? I was telling myself the story of Final Fantasy VIII. Only freaking YouTube reactions. I’ve been watching Squid Game. Okay, I mean the reactions now. How I wish my Gganbu would come back all rich. Knowing Braxton, food wouldn’t be an issue. A Christmas miracle. I got some time, only B There Bad Stories.

313 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 161 ~Days Ending With B~

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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 156 ~B Feet Gives Paws~

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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~

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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~

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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 149 ~B Brave, 300, 3000~

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B and I were far from 300, but nevertheless, the two of us were an “Army” thank you, Ellie Goulding. What she’s a great singer with what I’m assuming are nice… ok, shutting up about that. It’s been 300 Days without him in my sight. B Brave, 300, 3000

Saturday, November 27, 2021

Chronicle 149 ~B Brave, 300, 3000~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would have been sooner if I got off my ass. More like my balls.

30-year-old, well 37 talking about his dick (pardon my language…) classy. Between recovering from yesterday’s “Humiliations Galore.” And today being PetSmart day or not, no doggies, sigh. And I didn’t have the nerve to call B-Dubs, so Taco Bell, Lunalesca. Again I’m fucking 37 (sorry), and I can’t call restaurants, repairmen, or rescues. Then again, I’m still crying over Braxton, and we’ll get to that in a minute. How about thirty of them, and I give myself far too much credit when it comes to sex. Seen any other women? Not even in my novel. Speaking of which, I’m reading something before the Christmas Erotic Fest. You know me, Lady Lu, TRADITION. “A Sincere Warning About the Entity in Your Home.” Is that what I’m calling B III? Not yet.

300 bucks would be a much better way to honor him. Of course, Grammarly fucked me over for about half of that. $139.00. Fucking assholes! So it led me to do some quick math at PetSmart. The times of plenty are over. When I wasn’t paying for B III’s survival. Now I find more dubious ways to waste money. Let me say AHEM, this bitch got me “Smokin Out The Window.” Only that’s not fair at all, Lunalesca. Fucking Yabbos! Anyway, today will mark 300 Days without my son. I’m trying, ok. I gave “Only Gone From Your Sight” 3 stars. Everything within me wants to say that Braxton is always here. Nothing has moved as far as moving on.

3000 days could go by, and that ain’t happening. I love B 3000, and I ain’t Iron Man either. Regardless of what’s in my pants and I swear I’m shutting up about that. I’ll have to start Succubus Christmas Special soon. I also have Dystopian Girls 3. Sensing a theme? I had 3 days to finish my novel, and I wasted this one away, Lady Lu. I’m 7,500 words away from 50,000. That’s 3 chapters, and you know how the Day Job week is going to be. At least I caught up with “my” 3 girls, Carolina Bound, Cherry, and M Anime. But only seen one pair of Yabbos. I’m not a brave man or a very smart one at that. B Brave, 300, 3000.

300 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will