Tag: Death

Chronicle 153 ~About Last Lie Braxton~

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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 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

Chronicle 146 ~Law Abiding Citizen B~

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Justice was done today; more like people were held accountable. What is justice? The song goes, “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.” I don’t have any reason to go walking or jogging anymore without B but my crimes? Law Abiding Citizen B

Wednesday, November 24, 2021

Chronicle 146 ~Law Abiding Citizen B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means Hell yes, I’m above the law. If anything, I need to buy some forgiveness.

Now you’ll have to excuse me, Inspector Echo. Like I’ve been telling all the other girls and B III about calling you so late. While I’ve been dicking around with my writing, I’ve been looking at white boys getting away with murder. White men, going to jail or “I Hope.” Yeah, break out my best impression of Morgan Freeman from The Shawshank Redemption. But I’m more like Tim Robbins except fucking myself often. You’ll have to pardon my language Inspector but believe me when I say I’ve written much worse. Don’t worry, we’ll get to my novel. At the moment, the worse crime I’m committing is the fucking smell. Writing like this for two days straight. Starving myself. And sleep being my second greatest sin.

Of course, we know what the first is, don’t we? 297 Days and I “always” speak the truth. Three little words… I killed Braxton. I have continued reading “Only Gone From Your Sight.” Kate/Jack says I’m doing Braxton a major disservice wallowing in grief still. Inspector the idea that Braxton is with me right now? I do take comfort in it, but the things I do. Hell, B III was a saint by comparison. It’s scary that I don’t want B to see me. Yes, I’ve said that he accepted me for everything but between this and “This Dog’s Afterlife.” As the song goes, “Cause without you, they’re never gonna let me in.” Braxton’s defense? To be honest, he’d follow me straight to Hell, dammit.

“So I’ll say, “Why don’t you and I
Get together and fly
To the moon and straight on to heaven?
‘Cause without you, they’re never gonna let me in” ― Why Don’t You & I

“Now that the world isn’t ending
It’s love that I’m sending to you
It isn’t the love of a hero
And that’s why I fear it won’t do” (Chad Kroeger)

I couldn’t do that to my boy. Then we get to my writing and where my “character” is a family man with Sabrina (wifey), Bastian (B), Willow (daughter). Oh, my wife is expecting too. Then I go and turn Willow into a mass murderer. What is wrong with me, Echo? While I was writing that tripe, I got back into, let’s say, a past life. Remember Virgin Roster? Anyway, I was busy perusing J-List and, as they say, “English Visual Novels.” There’s one title of the sort that nobody sells. And I took a character from that and Virgin Roster. Inspector, you don’t happen to work for, um, The Man? I always go back to the week before Braxton left me. Law Abiding Citizen B.

297 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 142 ~A B Sized Problem~

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If I tried again, he or she would have to be B III’s size. Who am I kidding? I want a Chihuahua, and I screwed that up with my son. And then with Chase, a problem that can fit in the palm of my hand because of anything bigger… Ha. A B Sized Problem

Saturday, November 20, 2021

Chronicle 142 ~A B Sized Problem~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can shut down Disney for a bit. “It’s A Small World After All.”

Ironic that I found that ride so peaceful as a child in the Magic Kingdom. Yet as a grown-ass man, 37-year-old baby, the world today was way too small. There’s too many men, ha. Why stop with the song. “Too many people. Making too many problems. And not much love to go round.” No wonder my dick’s curving. Sadistic tendencies are making me hard. Lunalesca, that’s TMI, isn’t it. Today was terrible, to say the least. What about telling the most? While I deserve to be punished for B III. I don’t want to sound like some Trumptard, Nah. I doubt I could claim self-defense, and plenty of black men have been shot unarmed. I’m sorry, Lady Luna; I’ve been watching the big news today.

Hell, every day is gigantic, gigantic, gigantic when it comes to the media as it should be. As I said, people are making a mess. Is it the fucking noise Lady Lu. I’ve had enough, hmm? I’ve said before the silence without Braxton was killing me, but now I’m cherishing it. Still, I bought two new sets of headphones for the Day Job. Apple headphones surrendered. Can I have my son back breathing now? If you’re wondering why I’m talking to you so late, the “good” news is I was reading “Only Gone From Your Sight.” Yes, a book on loss. The bad news is I was also watching, well, stuff. Yeah, Yabbos, Cherry’s, Momokun’s, Aria Logan’s. What, I’m well-rounded and should shut up now.

Only all my problems keep on growing, and even the ones that are dead. No, I don’t mean B III, and he wasn’t trouble. Okay, that’s a lie, but I was thinking of turkey, Luna. Another first for me without Braxton. Now I could get all political, but we talk about family. The family I try to avoid bringing me food that I can’t share with my little B III. The question is, what am I grateful for this year? I didn’t have another wreck today. Despite my lazy ass efforts, I’m employed and living, dammit. Not cumming today… yet. Lunalesca, I am trying my best to be somebody B would be proud of but people. But one, in particular, me. A B Sized Problem

293 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 139 ~Number Of B’s Gotten~

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When I was a kid in summer school, I prayed to “God” that I ended up with a D average to keep my father from beating me. He nearly ruined root beer. I hit a dog once, which almost ruined Icee’s. Stuff a D student, shouldn’t do. “Number Of B’s Gotten”

Wednesday, November 17, 2021

Chronicle 139 ~Number Of B’s Gotten~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I shouldn’t be catching many Z’s, but the ones I get must be peaceful.

Usually, after I pull my shorts back on. Such is the start of my shame today at what? It’s 7:10 PM, so why am I calling you so late. Day 1 of No Fap again, thanks to 2. Scarlet and… Anyway, along with the conversation we’re having, I have yet again written 5,000 words. I continue to lie to NaNoWriMo. I’m at 28,000 when I should have 28,900. Wasted day. Inspector, I thought I would stop with that. What, did life not matter 290 Days ago? If it had, Braxton would be here. He’d be bored to tears, but “I’m writing for us,” I’d grumble. Should have thought better of that when I was still in school. I would be better off. A B student?

If you count what I know about B III, that is. As for how many classes I failed. How I could make it out of high school at all. My Olds money I threw away at junior college. Such sin. Why not add up everything I have going on with me mentally. Right now, I’m pretty clear-headed, and I told you why. The biggest problem is, at the moment, ADD or OCD. It goes. It was only at the Day Job a day, or so ago, I caught myself counting, I don’t know what. Perhaps how many dogs I’ve seen die. That I can take some guilt for… 2 or 3, B III being last. The worst are dogs I hated. Being A B student?

I was too full of, as Star Wars would put it. Fear, Anger, Hate, Suffering. Again at this very moment, it’s pretty much all disgust and self-loathing. Mixed with exhaustion. Looking at my schedule for the rest of the week. Sometimes I think NaNoWriMo should revoke my membership. Not like they’re checking up. Arrived at the point of no return. Yeah, like I was at PetSmart last Saturday. I talked about checking my wallet, week 3, and no Chase. I didn’t even talk to the ladies there. They say comedy comes in 3’s, huh, Echo. I’m not ready to be a dad again or any other type of “Real One.” Because I keep saying I’m no B Student. Echo, count the Number Of B’s Gotten.

290 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 135 ~To B A Believer~

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“Comedy comes in 3’s.” I’ve read that it’s a writer’s rule, but when’s the last time I’ve believed anything other writers have said… like being good. The last one I believed in died 286 Days ago. I believe bad things always come. To B A Believer

Saturday, November 13, 2021

Chronicle 135 ~To B A Believer~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what do I believe in? I should start listening to my motivations again with NaNoWriMo.

Speaking of which, as I told Lady Sophia last night. I believe I was making such huge strides in “Behave In The Cherry Patch” until yesterday and, of course, today. If I’m lucky, ha-ha. By Sunday, I can stop lying to NaNoWriMo for at least a little while this week… Lady Lu, I should tell this weak man that I am. How many weeks has it been now that I’ve betrayed B III? Died on January 31, was cremated on February 4, and I picked up his ashes on February 10. Three days Lady Luna. I heard somewhere comedy comes in threes. I’m not sure I believe that, but wouldn’t it be something if Chase was at Petsmart today? This would be Week 3. To be Lucky or a Loser

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67HwqNu1g9o

Of course, I mean that about me, Lady Lu, and not little Virgil. Hell, I can’t believe I would adopt him now. As I couldn’t believe what my “father” said to me the day that Braxton died. Of all the pain I’ve felt in my life, I can’t believe anything could hurt this much, Lu. You’re looking at a guy who has starved himself on purpose. With this week, I’ve been starving by accident, Lu. With all I survived with last night, I did take care of one problem. The next on my plate, or rather not in my glass, is dehydration. Water, Mother’s milk… Yeah, I’m about out of both unless I want to start drinking out the sink. Drool some over Cherry’s Yabbos?

I believe I always have time to, as they say, hang out with my wang out, rock out with my cock out, get silly with my willy. I should be careful, Lady Lu. It’s that kind of language which cost me a friend on Facebook a few days ago. After losing B, who cares, Lunalesca? The hackers? I did pass the rest of the night in relative peace. Not a peep has been heard this morning but wasn’t that the calm before the storm. I go out to live, and, next thing I know, I’m fighting for my life both IRL and online. And with this coming week. Life sucks; I believe that more than ever before. I believe in Braxton. To B A Believer.

286 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 132 ~To B So Heavy-Handed~

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Well, that was a mess. The other day I noticed Braxton’s old pills bottles are fading with his name, and inside is plenty of dust. I’m getting down to crumbs with his treats. And my head is being crushed by Heaven falling down. To Be So Heavy-Handed.

Wednesday, November 10, 2021

Chronicle 132 ~To B So Heavy-Handed~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could produce the worst porn imaginable. Brock Lesnar and Rasputia. Didn’t get off…

Well, I did last night. It’s one of the reasons I’m so dirty, disgusted, and a bit dedicated for the next half hour, please. All thanks to a pair of English Yabbos (that I’ve never seen). Heavy the head that wears the crown? More like Heaven came crashing down hard. Anyway, my dream. I was wining and dining Brock, trying to get him to take Rasputia off my hands. I bought him a gun, and I took him to Buffalo Wild Wings. Hmm, I should take away the “wine and dine” part. I couldn’t even pay for the meal Inspector. Confession time, are you ready? Here at thirty-seven, I’ve never bought a woman dinner at a restaurant. I mean ever. My apologies to Braxton’s aunt.

Let me get even STUPIDER, Inspector Echo. While I can’t stand Brock Lesnar, he seems to be a staple in the wrestling community. As much as B III is a part of my life. Hell B was/is my life. And without him, what is life. As they say, ahem Life’s A Bitch, Echo. Could it have been Rowdy Roddy Piper? No, he’s dead, and I’m not scared of him. But Brock? If anything, I need my own Beast back because living with Rasputia. She’s life, in all its glory. Carolina Bound, M Anime, Cherry, will hate me for this, but ok, Echo the truth. Besides having big Yabbos, they have huge issues. I got them too (issues); that’s no secret. I can’t handle them all.

Only B III, Little B, so small, so tiny. No wonder I didn’t listen to him and put him down. Literally, and what a horrible thing to think, but what am I carrying around, Inspector? There isn’t that much cash. But what I do have, I throw at Tits and yet Echo not seeing any. What I do see is Will’s Willie. Only I haven’t been putting him up on Stuff and Thangs a lot. As far as what I’ve been putting into my belly these days? Crumbs, crushing nutrients. I wouldn’t subject another life to the shit I’m going through. Chase won’t be there… Anything I touch turns to dust or makes a big mess. So much for being light-hearted. To B So Heavy-Handed

283 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 128 ~B Aching My Heart~

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For the third time in 279 Days, I was offered a dog. My sister showed me a dog only days after B III died. A woman on Facebook told me about a Chihuahua. And today, for a second week at PetSmart, these ladies asked me about Chase. “B Aching My Heart”

Saturday, November 6, 2021

Chronicle 128 ~B Aching My Heart~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can still be petty as all Hell. I can still hate the world, right.

On the 30th, Lady Lu I was embarrassed, enamored, and enraged from going to PetSmart. Embarrassed as I offered my number and email. The lady asks, “for what?” I’m stupid. Enamored with a dog named Chase that I would never see again. I’ll get to him in a sec Lu. Enraged at the lady there, myself. COVID 19 is nothing with people’s stupidity Lady Lu. There are two places on Earth this second where everyone knows my name. Well knows me, at least. Talk to my “father’s” old work buddies sometime. Tony has a son? Anyway, so I walk into PetSmart today, and these women are all around me. “We have Chase. He’s not here, but we can bring him, just say the word.” YES

NO Lunalesca, the answer has to be no, and it breaks my heart. That’s why I go to PetSmart every Saturday, I think. To tell me that it’s still there to be broken, not fixed. I don’t deserve it, Lady Lu, I mean to know, what peace? Hell, I’m breaking the bank, my balls, my book but this incessant heart of mine beating remains. But B III doesn’t hear it. I’ve talked about getting messages. The power flipped out for a second, and his picture frame flashed. B’s stuff on the floor, how his treats lie undisturbed. But nothing Saturday. Well, I take that back. Remember how I talked about the bank? With my budget, I bought a book for a buck, “This Dog’s Afterlife.”

Coincidence, you think? Braxton is a hard habit to break, and I don’t plan on it anytime soon. I told M Anime that she makes it difficult for men to date her. Getting close, nope? I’m doing the same thing when it comes to fur-babies. My Day Job, as always, sucks. Say the magic words “Humiliations Galore.” I’ve been chasing one chick’s Yabbos for weeks now. It’s a good thing God gave Adam a woman and not a dog. I’ve got neither, but which did more damage? Ahh, yes, bring on the waterworks Day 279. So with all the things wrong with me, what should worry me, Luna? I wish it was NaNoWriMo; I’m lying. The truth is worse. Braxton’s Dead, B Aching My Heart

279 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 125 ~By The Ladder B~

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Up the ladder to the roof. Like the song. I didn’t get that high today. Days like this have me thinking about Jenny wanting to jump off that bridge in Forrest Gump. I don’t fear heights, but if I had gone flying through the air today? By The Ladder B

Wednesday, November 3, 2021

Chronicle 125 ~By The Ladder B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I know something about the corporate ladder. If you mean my Day Job… Fuck.

Pardon my French, Inspector. If I had fallen off a ladder today, that would have been the last word I would say. It would be more to the tune of “Thank You.” Falling’s a luxury. It takes far more courage to jump. Hell, I jump all the time, out of FEAR, a firm tone, a girl I want to fuck. If I had taken a few more bumps on the head today, I’d learn something. Only it’s as if I played a few rounds of Glass Stepping Stones from Squid Game. No matter where I put my feet today, every step sent me falling. But I kept climbing, why, Echo? The higher I go, the easier it would be to find Braxton. Isn’t that poetic?

Surprised I can even remember what that is. Aren’t I supposed to be on some incredible rise, writing? Between my unpublished poetry and NaNoWriMo, which I’ll be lying to. Only I haven’t been lying about my genuine desire. Yes, Inspector Echo, something else is rising, besides the dick in my pants. Let’s say that Pounds have Dollars beat for sure. OnlyFans girls would be P.O’ed at me. Climbing ladders for $12.00 per hr ain’t helping. Again, I was supposed to be somebody, a leader. Instead, I was followed by a puppy of the human variety all day. Look, I have issues. Understatement of the century but actual mental problems? Do people see me like him? A supervisor asked, could she buy me a Christmas gift.

As long as it doesn’t breathe and doesn’t remind me of the dead. It has to be about B III. In better days, every dollar made scaling those ladders would be for Braxton to eat. Inspector Echo, we are in the days of Humiliations Galore. As always, but more noticeable. I’m hanging all sorts of balls/ornaments on the ceiling. I’m wondering where my balls are. Oh yeah, I’m splashing the contents all over some girl attempting to see her Yabbos. Inspector, I’m having a ball instead of working on my novel. I mentioned NaNo’s lie. Echo, to be a better man and work all night like when Braxton was here. The latter man sucks compared to my former self. Braxton’s Daddy. By The Ladder B.

276 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

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I’m sure someone said something wise of grief and hunger, not that I found it… I’m not that smart. All I know is that when Braxton died, my Ma asked whether I was eating, and I picked up ribs. Are you hungry seems easy enough to ask? “To The B Eve’d”

Saturday, October 30, 2021

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must be clever? Well, you saw that title. “Behave In The Cherry Patch?”

No, NaNoWriMo Eve is tomorrow, and so is Halloween. Let’s not forget Fear The Walking Dead and Walking Dead: World Beyond. The start of a new week and my list of eff ups aka Six Impossible Things. But um, God “rested” on the 7th day. Yep so did B III. But my story, didn’t I say I would be bringing characters back from the dead? My “loves?” Or am I digging myself into a tiny grave when it comes to writing? There will be some “plowing,” in my words. Don’t remind me, yesterday was all about Blue Balls, Lunalesca. I don’t know how I’m going to write with that kind of pain. Oh, right, the only bodily fluids leaving were tears over B III again.

Saturday was B’s last full day. He couldn’t do a damn thing but Test His Might. If God made woman from one of man’s ribs, man took another and gave it to the dog. Oh yeah, the dog was smart enough to bring it back. Ooh, that was not a gripe at women, Lady Luna. Hell, if anything, I’m not the man sitting on his ass drinking a beer and watching the game. I’m the boy lying in his bed waiting for his best friend to come back home. Braxton would be proud. I ignored him most of the week, but he was no fan of Sundays. That’s the truth. Once again, it’s Saturday, but I guess I’m getting an early start on my grief.

Braxton, boobs, and that “bad man” better known as Dad. One I’ll never see again, two I want to avoid, and three is calling Monday. But Sunday will always be the worst day for me. Some things are supposed to be said, smart things for sad times. Only every single day feels like a funeral, but I’m not sure whose. Yet I stay crying over one, my Little B. Lady Luna, is that why I don’t want to talk about today? I betrayed him when I watched him dying. I go and look at the other fur-babies like B III hasn’t been gone 272 Days. There’s no day or night, only life and death. Stories, Saturdays, my sucky life. Say What? To The B Eve’d

272 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will