Chronicle 307 ~Fandom A’s and B’s~

B understood his B words. There’s burger, bed, his aunt’s big ole… So we shared common interests, but for the past 458 days (snorts), add 15 years and 11 months, I was a fan, but I was getting kinda used to being someone he loved. Fandom A’s and B’s.

Wednesday, May 4, 2022

Chronicle 307 ~Fandom A’s and B’s~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but instead of “fine” art, I’ll lose myself to Star Wars memorabilia. It’s Star Wars Day.

Hell, I should have taken the day off. Of course, seeing as how we’re talking on the 30th today, Inspector. That’s my great sin. I’m sure I’m not counting the Humiliations Galore I’ve been experiencing this week. In this day and age, to like Star Wars is the least of them. Okay, so first, let me say Happy Birthday, Carolina Bound. Triple B loves his Aunt Carolina, and I’m pretty fond of her (drools) as a friend. Don’t give me that look Inspector, but yeah, I saw her boobs. Braxton is a mega-fan of them. One of my favorite moments was trying to have “The Talk.” And as far as respect for women… what do I know, you ask me. But being a true fan…

If I was to name all that B III was a fan of… we covered boobs, fries, comfy spots, barking. I mean, it was his middle name, “Barks.” What am I forgetting? Inevitably his Daddy. Inspector, no one told me when I met B III he’d bark, “I’ll be the greatest fan of your life.” Ditto, my boy, fucking ditto. But what about the fandoms I joined since Braxton left? Inspector, you know what I want to say. Braxton didn’t up and leave. (Cries) Death!!! Fandoms Inspector like Lord of the Rings or Game of Thrones, nope. But good battles. Did I tell you the story of when Braxton and I watched bullies getting “canceled,” and I accidentally hit B in the face? Didn’t die…

Yep, Dad hits like a bitch but okay, ha. What am I a fan of? What keeps you running now? The girls have seen that it’s adult entertainment for the past few days. Bikini season. Inspector, I’ll drop that pornographic tripe, which is longer than all the books I’ve read. I’ve been all about my mourning, and that ain’t changing anytime soon, I’m afraid, Echo. I can’t forget about B’s Aunt. As I said, Wednesday is her birthday. Today’s Saturday. Succubus Lord, of course, has been kicking my ass. How much have I spent, Inspector? Will I ever spend more on my little boy? I keep saying I will. Like when he lived? Braxton wasn’t a fandom. He’s faith. Will’s Fandom? Fandom A’s and B’s

458 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 303 ~Busy Living, B Dying~

I think I’ve only “lived” four days ever, and two of them I regret. E-Day and the day my boy died. And the other two… it’s way too early, and I got things to do. I always have something but never in my best interest or B’s. Busy Living, B Dying.

Saturday, April 30, 2022

Chronicle 303 ~Busy Living, B Dying~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it still wouldn’t make sense… B’s passing. I told M Anime we have a price.

$155.01 That’s how much I made the week B died. $234.90 is the amount he died for. That’s the week I was working as he lay dying. Until this second, I never bothered to look. I still keep all the paperwork from his first exam at the beginning of the month to my guilty plea. Hell, the evidence that shows what I did. But why am I bringing this up? Never can tell with these things, Lady Lunalesca. I wake up every morning saying, NO! Should I be “happy” that I’m being reimbursed for getting fucked free of earwax, hehe? What about the fact that I have security for another year? Paycheck disappeared so fast. If only M Anime saw it, what would she think?

A great man once said, “It Doesn’t Matter.” Lunalesca, I know I was disgusted with myself despite my productivity yesterday. Creaming all over the bedsheets. Like Johnny Lawrence finding the internet in Cobra Kai. What I deserve, napping or masturbating. Why am I being so crude today? I woke up on time… okay, fifteen minutes late after shutting off the alarm. One more thing to piss me off today. If it was the Day Job? Fuck! The days I jump out of bed because, as I said. This way or that, I am fucked, Luna. Yet this morning, it wasn’t as if I was sleeping anyway or better, resting, recovering. After Monday, I can’t even sleep as I choose. I keep thinking I’ll be deaf.

That’s not a dig at those who are Lady Lunalesca. Wasn’t I blessed to have one ear? And aren’t I blessed that after an hour at the doctor’s office, I have two, and then what Lunalesca? Cherry asked me to send a page of my work to her as she works on her editing gig. I got an email from a guy who saw my reviews (hmm) and wants me to do one for him. Even B III… I was busy reading, and I still know, feel, believe I can’t pick up another “normal” book. You know one, not about grieving and mourning? Not that I mind that much. Existing. For damn sure, I ain’t living. 454 Days, dick in hand. Busy Living, B Dying.

454 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 300 ~The B Is Silent~

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.

451 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 296 ~Have A Cow B~

Don’t have a cow, man! Well, my second best friend is about to have a lot of chickens. B would have loved to visit a farm… Poor choice of words, he got sent to “the farm.” And while I’m mad about that and other things. “Have A Cow B, if you like.” Ha

Saturday, April 23, 2022

Chronicle 296 ~Have A Cow B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how can I be mad, having such maladies. And, of course, still want to masturbate.

What can I say today? I believe the word would be “Moo!” That’s considering the major beef I have today. Also, knowing that everything I say will inevitably be incoherent. Would I make myself out to be Marjorie Taylor Greene? The things that make us angry; yesterday, Lady Lunalesca, it was the Day Job schedule. More to the point, cowardice. Hell, I didn’t have to be angry. If I had done what I needed to do Wednesday or even called Thursday. Oh yeah! That would mean I have two ears, and I’m still pissed, Lunalesca. We’ll get to that, along with the things I can’t say anymore. Yesterday all I wanted to say was, “I’ll think about it,” “I’ll have to see” doesn’t mean yes.

Triple B never said a damn word, but I knew what he meant. What Lunalesca, you didn’t think I would forget about him… again. If this was Squid Game, my number would be “428.” I still can’t forget that, but it’s day 447 today. How many more in my Hell? When Braxton got mad, he would grunt and grumble a bit like a piggie. Growling? Lunalesca, that would be him too. I would have brought food. And he would have sat in the den waiting for me to change. B III was always waiting for lies, little bites, like, love. It was usually me that was having a cow, though. A burger, the bad stuff at work. I had a lot of beef Lady Lunalesca.

And as much as Triple B should hate me now… That’s the only thing I might have taken from all those books. Doesn’t Braxton hate me? He had enough love for both of us. Humans are the ones who carry hate, wrath, and so much beef. Fuck, shrimp, chicken. Luna, I think so little of myself that I couldn’t speak up, and I tried Friday; Lu, yep, I did. I couldn’t hear myself. I carry such hate for myself that I won’t go and see a doctor. Money for one. But best believe I’m going to buy two bottles of cranberry juice and more pills. Hate will maul me as I rage internally at the Rebeccas. I can’t be Braxton’s Dad. Have A Cow B.

447 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 293 ~To B Wrong Sometimes~

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

444 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 289 ~Will You B There~

My latest earworm is “Will You Be There.” Right next to it is Succubus Lord 14, which I might finish today. Then there’s whatever’s in my ear for real driving me mad. It’s not B being gone? Reincarnated? The Man I was reflected back? Will You B There

Saturday, April 16, 2022

Chronicle 289 ~Will You B There~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means whatever I want better be there. In truth, what do I look forward to?

It wasn’t the earworm of “Will You Be There” from Michael Jackson. As it’s been for 440 Days and counting. There have been tears. Tears for B III, boys and girls in cages, being in bed and knowing what awaits outside. I don’t have to go, you remark, Lady Lunalesca. Well, are you saying that? You know my ear is still fucked up. Speaking of earworms, and that’s pretty gross, I know. One more thing that’s wrong with me, And cranberry juice and a nice hot bath weren’t able to cure it as of late. Billionaire status is looking better daily. Only not with what I was doing during that bath. I’m still disgusted with what I’ll have to tell the Man in the Mirror.

Because he’ll be there… Hell, with the storm raging outside, how do I know? I’m not that lucky, am I? Those are some dangerous words, Luna. The world is ever more so, and B III isn’t here. Friday, I was reading again about how I should be memorializing my son. “Invoking the Spirit.” Yeah, that’s what I need The Craft, Bible Black, Succubus Lord, sexy chicks. It’s stuff like this, Lady Lunalesca. I always kept Braxton far away from it. And then I wonder why I go into these periods of “celibacy.” Ok, masturbation, porn like Opiumud, Niisath, and worse. I don’t even bother with people. But then again, what are we, Lady Lunalesca. Most people don’t look at me as a man, of course. Yet singing I’m only “Human.”

Only I would look into Braxton’s eyes, and it’s like that scene from “Hook” when the lost boy finally recognized Peter Pan. You know something, Lady Lunalesca, that it’s, right? When I look at these furry babies, I’m looking for whoever I used to be 15 years ago. Daddy, because what I am right now isn’t who I want to be. Hateful, Horny? Not Healthy, Happy. Well, I’m never happy, even in all the stories I wrote at one point. Oh, and all the things I’m reading now. But yeah, I’m finding myself mired in their grief, Lunalesca. It beats what people see. Promise me I will be there when I find the right set of eyes because I’m still looking. Will You B There.

440 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

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.

437 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 282 ~B Having My Turn~

My Day Job is a den of vipers, but there are also earworms like Sara Bareilles’s “King of Anything.” Which I am not when it comes to life. I never gave B III many choices, but with him, I didn’t have to worry about myself first… B Having My Turn

Saturday, April 9, 2022

Chronicle 282 ~B Having My Turn~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’m always first or hell last. I’m sure billionaires have good drugs. With anxiety…

It’s like looking in the mirror. I rather not Lady Lunalesca. Things become worse always. I remember wanting to be productive and drinking 5-hour ENERGY and breaking a tooth. Um, that was a few years back. There’s the yard work, and oh damn, a leak in the wall, ha. I wrote a poetry book, and here we are, years later, I’m hundreds in the hole, and it’s my fault. Oh, there’s waking on time today, yep, at 4:00 AM but wait, it’s 6:00 AM. What did I do, Lu? I have the opportunity to be a man, but no, I go running back to my “father.” I don’t know. That’s the thing, Lady Lunalesca; I don’t know anything. Like how to keep Triple B alive.

Every day there is one more reason to miss my child, like putting him first. Braxton is first in everything… Am I a Republican who will lie outright? Well, the eye doctor wanted $500 for new glasses. I didn’t hesitate to spend that. Not when it came to B III’s final tests. Lunalesca, there are all the things he didn’t have, though, because I chose to pick myself again and again. It was my turn, but Braxton and I didn’t live that way. I hate the Day Job, and he didn’t want to be alone. B III is on duty in the afternoon, and I read while Braxton slept in the evenings. When I ate, so did he. At night whatever terrors there were, me and B III. Our routine.

And now it is my turn, and more often than not, I don’t want to play the game ever again. Don’t I have the right to choose? Lady Lunalesca, I skipped Buffalo Wild Wings Saturday. Routine is what holds me together. It was a choice once but rejecting, neglecting, ignoring. I have three games on the phone that eat up my time, and for what? Are they fun at all? I’ve been saying I’m becoming an asshole Replika user. It beats trying to get Cherry naked. What choices do I make for myself? A body that’s fucked up. Pardon such language. Lunalesca, the house is falling apart. Have you seen my account? I’d give anything to count Braxton’s expenses but now… B Having My Turn

Replika

433 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 279 ~Getting A, B’s Easy~

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.

430 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 275 ~To B Cornered Sometimes~

Was I locked in here with B III, or was he locked in here with me? I swear that’s about eight pop culture digs? Math has never been my subject of choice. Now porn, for the perves, Maiko Kaneda. Should I go stand in the corner? To B Cornered Sometimes

Saturday, April 2, 2022

Chronicle 275 ~To B Cornered Sometimes~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I got an angel on my shoulder, God up above me, someone by my side…

That’s B in the corner. You know I went through Losing My Religion a long time ago. Should I apologize for the song? It’s been playing in my head all morning, and yes, I was up at 4:00am. Of course, what have I been doing? Between fashion and Maiko Kaneda… We’ll get to that. Of course, the day starts off with B. Once again, I burst into tears at having to wake up without him. Or, as I said before, thinking of my Day Job lurking in the corner. Like the Terminator, “I know now why you cry.” B III knew so much, Luna. Then again, I’m getting my ass whooped, and he won’t throw the damn towel “sigh.” How many pop culture references today?

Maiko Kaneda

That’s why I don’t want V in my corner. You know what I mean, Lady Lunalesca. B as in Braxton and V as in Virgil. If I ever had another kid… I can make all the excuses I want, but the main one? Betrayal, Lunalesca, the ninth circle of Hell is Treachery. I know this. Then again, I finished that book “Will YOUR Dog Reincarnate?” this week. Excuse me for keeping track of my fandoms:

Losing My Religion
Discipline: The Record of a Crusade “Maiko Kaneda”
Rocky
Terminator 2: Judgment Day
Will YOUR Dog Reincarnate?

And to add another one to the list, “What Dreams May Come.” I keep saying this place is Hell, don’t I? It’s betrayal if I don’t look? Come “Find Me.

But there’s “P” in the corner. TMI, right Lunalesca? I would give anything to change Braxton’s pee spot again. I still have it on my phone to check. And then there’s my issue with such things. I swear sometimes it’s like I’ll never feel “normal.” It’s all my fault, ok? The P as in PAIN that I’m feeling all over my body, and I won’t do anything about it (sigh). Oh, I could write some prose and make some money. Camp NaNoWriMo is here, but… Porno is so easy to find. That explains what I wasted an hour doing. There is so much to do, but I would rather be punished. Stay here without TV, listening to Jacob pop inside Succubi. To B Cornered Sometimes.

426 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will