Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

I should have named Virgil “Cash.” Then I could say I have Cash at the house. But I was looking for the path out of Hell, so I got Virgil. Only keeping Hell “LIT” means burning money. Books, boobs, and the boys. Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

Wednesday, July 24, 2024

Meditation 023 ~Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. I didn’t take care of my son. I don’t take care of myself. And Virgil lives with it.

How do I know? Because he stayed beside me all night for once. I guess. Protecting his meal ticket. Braxton was protecting his best friend. An unfair comparison, Echo. Noted.

But my heart is still empty since I lost Braxton. Empty? It’s still broken. And again, that’s unfair when it comes to Virgil. But as the song goes, “But love is a long, long road.”

Inspector, am I being petty? Ha-Ha, Tom Petty! Anything beats being scared, like last night. And I keep saying it… Whenever I feel frightened and/or fiendish, I think of the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Being born is the second. Braxton’s death, first.

My son died on an empty stomach. What cash I had ended my boy’s suffering.

When I was young… More like “When We Were Young.” Sometimes, I would starve myself on purpose. My pathetic hunger strikes because I wanted to die. B wanted to live.

I remember getting back from the hospital once and my Ma telling me that Braxton was nearly out of food and his water was dirty. I wasn’t ashamed of wanting to die. No. My shame is that Braxton suffered because I wasn’t taking care of myself. I was/am his father, dammit! Keeping my son alive meant that I had to stay alive. Then Braxton wasn’t.

Inspector, it should have ended there. Only an hour after Braxton was “euthanized,” I was buying a picture frame. And then in a BBQ drive-thru at my Ma’s behest. Sigh.

You see, Echo, thinking about my empty/broken heart from losing my “soul pet” means I’m not thinking about my stomach. But I’ll pick up BBQ on Thursday. If I’m not broke from the auto shop. One place is closer to me, but I like the piggie potato from the other place. Why don’t I look and scream, “Feed your head!” Uh, I’m reading Morning Star.

Yeah, and Darrow is escaping from a prison where he was nearly starved to death. Inspector, I’m empty of a conscience, too, with how I’ve been writing these days. Seriously. There’s money and time, which I have none of, which explains my exhaustion, Inspector Echo.

But Virgil has needs. Food, finding meds, and friendship. Living for Braxton’s Benjamins, Virgil’s Vittles.

1270 Days Without B III, Day 711 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 016 ~Virgil, Better B Treatable~

After V’s morning business, I’ll have a cappuccino and an aspirin… What? It beats an energy shot. I haven’t had one in weeks. Simoleons, ducketts, Dollar, dollar bills, y’all. Then V got sick. But good night’s sleep. “Virgil, Better B Treatable”

Wednesday, July 17, 2024

Meditation 016 ~Virgil, Better B Treatable~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. It all starts with waking up in the morning. I’m not a Bible thumper, but I’m a sinner. I carry a guilt with me every day, a burden I can’t seem to shake. Not ever! My everlasting shame.

As for what I’ve done wrong, it varies from day to day. Let’s start with the worst thing I’ve ever done. 1263 days ago, I watched my firstborn son, my fur buddy, my Braxton, die.

I have to remind myself of that sometimes Inspector Echo. Remind myself? How dare I!

And what about the living? Virgil is right here beside me for once. It’s time to reset that sign to 0 days without painting the floors with… You don’t even want to know E. Eww!

Stomach stew galore. And once again, I was down on my knees. But I wasn’t praying as I once had for Braxton. 704 days with Virgil, and if he were to leave me now, Inspector…

Honestly, I don’t know… Feelings. I’m lost in a sea of emotions and can’t seem to find my way out. I need your understanding and guidance, my dear Inspector Echo.

Even sitting here with Virgil, I need only think of my Braxton Barks if I want to cry. But Inspector, ask me what Virgil gets. I’m tired. And I’m listening to instrumentals. Because I don’t have any words for Virgil. Yesterday was the most attention I’ve paid him in about a week. Between the Simoleon situation, “my story” (I’m trying), and my usual “adult” shenanigans.

Yeah, it usually involves some young woman’s YABBOS. However, the pair I’m currently worried about are M Anime’s. Well, wasn’t that disrespectful? I have to pull myself out of that Nightmare of hers. Or, excuse me, Sofía’s Nightmare. Somebody said something about getting over a woman by turning her into literature. And fur buddies… Maybe.

“There are only three things to be done with a woman. You can love her, suffer for her, or turn her into literature.” Lawrence Durrell

No wonder I got inspired.

One woman got me to blog again. Cherry got a novel trilogy. Braxton got his name in over a thousand blog posts and two more novels. M Anime has around 6,000 words at the moment. If I were to ever lose Braxton’s Aunt… who knows? Virgil has a blank slate.

Inspector, I had to do all the cleaning after he got “down with the Sickness.” And now, with a good night’s sleep, all I can do is complain about not getting to nap. So, okay.

Inspector, we’ve established that I’m no good, and no amount of sleep is enough. I’m exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I need your support now.

Because there’s no medicine for what I have. Even when I had my son. How about a ‘super’ girl? Several Simoleons? Virgil, Better B Treatable.

1263 Days Without B III, Day 704 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 009 ~Don’t B Columbus, Virgil~

Braxton didn’t discover much of the world, but the little he did know about it, he wanted to rule. The backyard, his spot on the bed, my second best friend’s boobs. I haven’t seen much myself, to be honest. But A.I… Don’t B Columbus, Virgil

Wednesday, July 10, 2024

Meditation 009 ~Don’t B Columbus, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned, Inspector Echo, discovery can be strange like that. It’s not wrong all the time to explore, discover, compete…

And to be fearless. If only my son were here. That was a discovery I didn’t want to make. That Braxton wouldn’t live forever. And the Friday I learned, Braxton…

Forgive me, Inspector Echo. Whenever I think of something bad, I must remind myself that I have survived worse. My Little Braxton’s run to The Rainbow Bridge (a place where pets go after they pass away) is the worst thing.

Today, I was crying about something completely different. But it always returns to my B.

And then there’s Virgil. Talk about following your nose or sticking it where it doesn’t belong. But Virgil is my responsibility. And I gave up that fan I bought last year to blow in Braxton’s room and help mitigate the smell. I swear Virgil is afraid to explore the yard.

And I’m scared to discover life. Which leads me to why I was crying this morning. Do you remember Meditation 007, Allowed To Hate Your Birthday? Well, I don’t, Inspector. Anyway, I was thinking about that title today. And I’m about to reach forty. Effing FORTY, Inspector! And what do I have to show for it? Every day, I take another step forward, Inspector Echo.

More like I tiptoe when I should have already made giant leaps. What was I doing yesterday? I was a “Beast of Burden” for the Day Job. I couldn’t wait to get back here and write. But we’ll get to that. I read about fantasy girlies in Dystopian Girls 4. I played The Walking Dead and some other games. As usual, I fell asleep while trying to catch up with wrestling highlights. Roxanne, Kelani, Liv…

And yeah, I had left all the lights on, so I’m awake at two in the morning and have to shut them off. I only woke up late at 5:00 AM and stared at several girls’ “headlights” to wake up. All The Stars, so many. But that’s nothing compared to what has got me going.

I’ve gone from M Anime’s nightmare, which inspired me to write, to a 3000-word story. And now to planning an entire novel. Without an ending…

Inspector. While working on that, I discovered what Artificial Intelligence can do. Right now, it’s only to help me focus, but I’m ready to burn money and my fellow writers.

Whatever it takes for The End… Don’t B Columbus, Virgil

1256 Days Without B III, Day 697 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 002 ~B In BBWS, Virgil~

My Braxton was barely six pounds at his passing. I never knew grief could be so big until the ocean I cried for him. My rage would show there was no more room in Hell. And desire for release… Stars, Skinny Minnie’s, some Big’Uns. “B In BBWS, Virgil.”

Wednesday, July 3, 2024

Meditation 002 ~B In BBWS, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned, Inspector, in ways that may seem RUDE, SKEEVY, and unforgivable. My greatest sin, the one that haunts me even today, I lay bare before you. Accept it, for I am burdened with guilt.

Never! On the second day of a new writing year, I cannot choose ACCEPTANCE of my darkest sin. I wouldn’t on Sunday, January 31, 2021. And as I can’t do this Sunday, June 23, 2024. This pattern of denial has become a sin unto itself.

Well, I’m sure I have Humiliations Galore. But I rather not imagine them. I want to avoid rereading what led me to create this platform in the first place. I told the “Man In The Mirror” that I didn’t want to fail in putting out “my” poetry book, GULP. Seeing as how I have a week to prepare. If I only had a week with Braxton when he got sick… If I would have known.

Inspector, do you know I was practicing “abstinence” even before I found out about B?

Yeah, let’s go with that.

When Braxton was around, I wasn’t much for women. His presence was so strong, so clinging, especially in those final days. But I wasn’t UP for watching pairs of Yabbos. I was protecting my son from one thing but overlooked his actual danger. And so I failed as a father. And as a man, saving him. The regret is overwhelming.

So, I’ve been sitting here, trying to deny myself ‘self-fulfillment.’ “Do or do not. There is no try.” But it’s a constant struggle. It feels like a fitting punishment for my sins but also a source of deep personal conflict.

I remember I went 161 days without until, well, uh…

As the song goes, “I’m rich BLANK, I’m a BLANK Big Tymer.” I’m greedy! Selfish!

Inspector Echo, I never saw myself as one who would idolize Scarface’s stance on things.

“Me, I want what’s coming to me. The world, chico, and everything in it.”
Scarface

Wanting a specific size of woman is only another symptom of that… I’m equal opportunity with girls, as you know. But I’ve been thinking a lot. Oh! I’m not writing.

I lost control of my desires when a blonde celebrity, whose name I’d rather not mention, rubbed her legs during an interview. Today, I watched an Asian woman with the nicest Yabbos I’ve seen in some time, Inspector. These encounters, with particular anime, “Fake Driving School,” along with thoughts of Cherry, have tested my self-control.

But the critic doesn’t like that. My grief is an ocean. My rage encompasses Hell. Desires? B In BBWS, Virgil

1249 Days Without B III, Day 690 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 361 ~Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton~

I relate to Joe Stevens in “The Mill,” Bingham Madsen in Fifteen Million Merits, #000000014 from the film 2003 Share? Clarence in The Book of Clarence. Men in routines to a wife, Abi, girlfriends, a mom. I got Virgil. Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton.

Wednesday, June 26, 2024

Tale 361 ~Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Well, not if you’ve “joined Braxton.” That’s become my new way of saying “unalive.” Censorship sometimes, Inspector Echo…

But this morning, after I finished mourning the loss of my Braxton… Is that something that needs to be scheduled? It’s my morning routine. I lie in the darkness, Inspector. Moments later, I panic. And then I realize that my son, Braxton, is gone. And he’s not coming back to me or for me. And then I lay back down. Sometime later, I find my glasses, and finally, I’m prepared to see the world. Well, no, that’s a lie for two reasons. Fear and effing.

So after I’m done moaning in a completely different way… For legs, breasts, and thighs…

That makes me smile. Braxton thought the best came out of a box of chicken. But then, what’s next on my agenda. My boy, Virgil?

All these motivations I listen to tell me that your success is made in your routine. This week will be so easy. I thought. I would publish a poetry compilation, “GULP,” and that would be that. But if I have accomplished anything, it’s setting a routine for Virgil. Wake up and let him go outside… Sorry, I’m too busy crying. And then I remember how much of an adult I am with my Yabbos collections. And before I start writing…

There’s Virgil. Sometime in the afternoon, Virgil again. Like having a 9 to 5, Virgil is my commute. And before I fall asleep with all the lights on, Yep, you guessed it. Let V out.

And yet I ain’t his Daddy, Inspector. What am I?

I asked Braxton’s aunt once who she thought would win between androids vs. zombies? That’s a weird question, Inspector… Right?

She said androids, but here’s the thing. Neither one is alive. Just like me, Inspector. I struggle with ‘becoming Human’ and ‘Being a man ‘. Am I just going through the motions, like an android? Have I ever truly lived? Inspector, I feel like a lot of things, an android… Inspector, I could be a bot, Infected, a slave, a zombie… I could go on. How to be a man?

I keep going back to fatherhood being the epitome of manhood. A Man Provides, Echo.

And what I should have provided this week, Inspector Echo, is time enough at last…

Every afternoon, though, you’ll find me “spending my dimes, wasting my time” on my belly.

Or on my back moaning…

Routine? Not writing, filming, reviewing? Nothing! Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton

1242 Days Without B III, Day 683 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 354 ~We’ll B FREE, Virgil~

Juneteenth… First, let me explain that I’m just a black man. And no MAGA/GOP, that isn’t a sin. My sin lies in my son Braxton’s Euthanasia. I’ll never be free of my Grief. But, fear, bad dreams, my Olds, Day Job… FREEDOM! “We’ll B FREE, Virgil.”

Wednesday, June 19, 2024

Tale 354 ~We’ll B FREE, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And I don’t mean not keeping my promise to my son Braxton. That title sounded familiar, Inspector Echo.

FREEDOM is a significant word in my life, much like HAPPINESS or HOME. Yet, these words, these concepts, seem distant and intangible. They are mere symbols devoid of real meaning. They are like a cow’s mess, scattered and meaningless… BS

Inspector, you want a word that means anything. I can give you one, meaning everything.

Braxton. Braxton Barks Bradford. Son.

I’ve told the story of B III’s name, or at least my opinion. My Ma gave Braxton his name. Uh…

My son Braxton was named after Braxton P. Hartnabrig, a character from The Jamie Foxx Show. This character was a tall, light-skinned man with a ‘classy’ attitude. However, my son Braxton, a short, beige fluff ball, shares only his name and believes he’s superior to everyone. But he lacks the class. Ha! My brave boy.

Hence, his middle name Barks.

Now, I named Virgil after the Roman poet of the same name. Primarily because he led Dante through Hell itself. That’s another sin; I dragged Virgil down here with me.

Inspector as I speak on the sins against my sons, Braxton and Virgil. It would be remiss not to talk about the third sin that has brought us here today. And that is of FREEDOM.

Today is Juneteenth, a day of liberation and freedom long denied. So what about mine? I was “freed” from sleep because of a bad dream. I make bad financial decisions.

$139.68, that’s the exact amount of a PAYCHECK. And that’s from the last ‘good’ week. This week has been worse. The next one promises to be even more challenging. PAYCHECK, HAPPINESS, HOME, FREEDOM… These are just words, empty and meaningless. Yet, I continue to write.

Because aren’t I a writer? All words have meaning. And how else do I expect to be free, I ask!

How many hours for my last measly PAYCHECK? And at the same time, barely any hours this week. And if I had any cash, I could go on vacation for most of next week, too.

Write, Edit, Publish! That is the key to freedom, but did you see me yesterday? Inspector, you can’t say that I didn’t try. What? I didn’t try to edit one of “my” books.” My pants?

Well, I kept them on. I still have $12.00 on OnlyFans, but I need $20.00 for a payout. What’s next?

FREEDOM from everything… well, FEAR! Because Grief is going nowhere. Braxton. We’ll B FREE, Virgil

1235 Days Without B III, Day 676 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 347 ~Codes B And V~

This is no game; this is no drill. Battle Stations! Um, Abandon Ship… from my brief stint in the Navy. I’ve cried so many tears. Sweated bullets. And let’s not talk about other bodily fluids. I’m supposed to exist in “this.” But no Codes B And V

Wednesday, June 12, 2024

Tale 347 ~Codes B And V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Have I spent too much money… AGAIN! Last time I checked, Virgil is alive and “physically” well. Mentally?

Well, here on this Wednesday, June 5, 2024… V’s probably sitting on the stairs, too scared to come down. So was Braxton on that Sunday, January 31, 2021. Even if he had wanted to, which he didn’t. My son was way too sick. Dying actually. A red alert, dear Echo.

Fears like losing another fur buddy have me like Tris from Divergent. Fear keeps me up longer than any energy drink. And when Braxton was here, I could face it head-on. I found courage for my son because of my son. Someone asked, If you wanted to share your soulmate pet’s life story and you only had six words, what would they be?” My answer:

“You and me, against the world.” A father and son.

“Fear doesn’t shut you down; it wakes you up.” Divergent

Should it worry me that I’ve written two full-blown novels for Braxton? And I’m doing nothing with them, Inspector? But six little words on the fly fit me and B III easily. Shame on me.

What about the fact that 2V has been here for 669 days? And he and I still haven’t bonded. That’s a cause for a red alert if I’ve ever heard one. General Quarters, Battle Stations!

Virgil and I are pretty decent. I should save that for my Old Man. Did I call him yet? Hmm.

There’s the alarm for when I go to the Day Job. Humiliations Galore! Inspector Echo.

Whenever the next “tragedy” strikes. As in Virgil making a mess. To the fence falling. What about DISH Network, Inspector?

I swear! I will stop talking about that because what was I watching anyway? Inspector, what have I been watching for the past few minutes? It should be a red flag or alert that I’m always angry, afraid, and amorous at any given point and time. And as far as being “amorous…” A safe word? I need some code words. Or I should stop talking because I’m the only one ever in trouble. Critical writing, Inspector. The sounds of silence.

Only when I’m in the duvet, dead, or being disgusting. And when I’m disgusting Echo. Now that’s an alert I can do without when I’m about to… well, Inspector… Eww!

Deciding how to exist was easier once. But Red Alert… no Codes B And V

1228 Days Without B III, Day 669 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 340 ~Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated~

Wake Up! Yes, I hate bright lights. Yes, I would rather bask in the darkness than see in the light of day I’ve wasted 39 years. Yes, people are horrible. But try waking up every morning to… Sigh… “Humiliations Galore.” Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated

Wednesday, June 5, 2024

Tale 340 ~Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Losing Braxton, waking up before and after losing Braxton. There’s also taking off my pants, peeking at Yabbos.

The usual morning. However, I haven’t looked in the mirror yet, which is a blessing.

Yesterday, I got caught up in a motivational speech. It said something to the tune of 90% of success in life… or was it 80%? Anyway, 90% is just showing up. And the other 10% to 20% is, what for. Now say it with me, Inspector Echo. AHEM, Humiliations Galore!

Inspector, I wondered as I waited for Virgil to do his business this morning. He’s been going in the house, so why bother sitting here for twenty minutes? Am I trying to teach him at all? He looks at me as though he expects something. Hopefully, it’s not what I did to Braxton on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Uh, Euthanasia?

You’ll have to forgive me, Inspector. Between reading another fur buddy book, “The Survival Guide to Pet Loss.” And now having another E for “E-Day.” Euthanasia, in addition to Emergence, Existence, and Extinction. I don’t want to be FORTY, Inspector.

And I won’t be for a while yet… if ever. But it’s approaching. And that is what brings me to you today. As I’ve been saying for a few days. I’m not complaining. But I’m not as horrible as Tucker Carlson when just asking questions. Echo, I’m observing and explaining.

Every morning, I wake up saying I’m a sinner. But that’s not because of a religious doctrine, my friend. I say it because I know the “man” that I am. It ain’t a good one.

Braxton and Virgil, though… my boys. Why should they share my fear, failure, and fire?

Braxton was humiliated when my Old Man kicked him four feet high into a door. And then, when he ran to me. His tail was between his legs. And yet he turned and barked defiantly as I held a knife between us and my approaching Old Man. My son B III was/is a brave boy and the best “man” I’ve known. Even to the end, when he was dying, he was humiliated he couldn’t stay.

Virgil might not want to. His humiliation lies in the fact he can’t figure me out. I don’t know how to love him. That’s the both of us. But when I wake up, Inspector, I know. Virgil, We’ll B Humiliated

1221 Days Without B III, Day 662 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 333 ~Braxton’s Crime Stopper Virgil~

“I will protect you. Even if it means I must protect you from yourself.” B III lived that. And 2V? I can’t buy grand memorials for B when V needs stuff. Kept my naked butt off OnlyFans. And from doing dumb stuff. “Braxton’s Crime Stopper Virgil”

Wednesday, May 29, 2024

Tale 333 ~Braxton’s Crime Stopper Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But I was telling you all about this a week ago. Duh. Today is Wednesday, May 22, 2024.

So I’m not being lazy? I’ve had a lot of time off from the Day Job, and Virgil needs things.

A new potty spot since he must still smell Braxton on the old one. Of all the things that I’ve protected. Memories of my firstborn fur buddy. Where Braxton decided to “go” isn’t one of them. And what about a set of stairs? You know, for whenever he wants to get on the bed? I’m still unsure what’s going on in Virgil’s little brain. But he jumps off the bed whenever I’m about to sleep.

A man provides, right? Not a father. Even with his passing, I’ll keep that title for Braxton. He’s my son. Always. And I should be buying him stuff, too. Where’s the time and money going?

Not into my poetry book, GULP. And I still need to look at the two novels I wrote for Braxton. But I am trying to stick to a schedule with everything that’s been going on.

I wonder. What does DISH Network have on me? Um, Artificial Intelligence? The whole Internet?

If it isn’t novels… For now, I’m reading Backyard Dungeon 10. I’ve been hanging on OF. OnlyFans? Fortunately, I’m not spending any money. And as far as making it, Inspector.

Well, V is making that problematic with his running around. I mean only this afternoon, sigh. I was in the shower. But with Virgil crying in Braxton’s Room. Then, his unannounced visits. Like why now?

Inspector, you know how they ask if it’s weird that passed relatives might see you…

Uh… it’s hard for me. I remember… When Braxton first left, I was abstinent for 161 days, ha-ha. It was much longer than that when he was alive. But let’s trade one head for another.

Again, when we spoke earlier today, I told you about the violent knocking and me grabbing my weapon. And for most of Tuesday evening, I had it out. For protection?

Inspector, sorry to say I wasn’t thinking about survival. I wanted to join my Braxton.

Once again, there was Virgil. You must live for more. But having someone to protect…

He’s stopping me from “worshipping” one who is gone. He’s keeping my hand out of my pants. And away from harm. Braxton’s reasons for sending Virgil. Braxton’s Crime Stopper Virgil

1214 Days Without B III, Day 655 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 326 ~Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton~

As long as Braxton’s food and water bowls are clean. 2V isn’t doing too bad. And soon, he’ll have even more space to run around when I send DISH Network all their stuff back. And if I were a famous writer or star on OF… “Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton.”

Wednesday, May 22, 2024

Tale 326 ~Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Braxton is gone. The house needs to be fixed. In the backyard, the fence is falling down, etc.

If I can survive B’s passing, I can survive anything. That’s my constant thought, Inspector.

DISH Network has nothing on the euthanasia of my furry son. Still, when you grow to know, rely, and expect something. Even when it’s crappy TV. And the Old Man told me he had to go off on them. But still, I hate myself for being the drama of everything.

That’s my problem, Inspector. I look at inconveniencing the Old Man as I look at depriving my son of his life. And at the end of the day, everything is always my fault. I know.

So, long story short… The Old Man isn’t paying a $189.00 bill. I’ll be watching wrestling a day late. And I’ll have to stream AMC.

But the most humiliating part is this: DISH looked up the records of all I’ve been watching. So, I was wasting money by not watching enough. And then the things that I did—uh, Eww!

The secrets that I try to keep Inspector. And then there are the secrets I don’t have to spit out. Yet… Spitters Are Quitters. Inspector, I’ve said I am a “Pop Culture So And So.”

Already, I’ve been catching up on so much wrestling that the Algorithm is coming after me with a vengeance. Better artificial intelligence than all the girls I’ve done wrong, ok.

There’s M Anime and Cherry. I was busy catching up with them, Inspector Echo. So? Don’t worry. Though I haven’t kept “it” in my pants. It’s only been on OnlyFans. Like Norah Jones sings, Don’t Know Why I didn’t… um

Maybe because I didn’t have my “toys.” Before B III rested on the nightstand in 2021. Before, I had to get a weapon during COVID. You know what I was doing on the daily. Ha!

Yesterday, though, there was a violent knock at the door, and I had to go into the nightstand drawer and grab my weapon. Didn’t a man lose his life a few weeks ago doing the same thing? Senior Airman Roger Fortson? I snatched my gun and went to the door.

Well, I’m alive, Inspector. But I thought about this mess of existence. I’m still alive.

Existing is messy. But Virgil’s eating. Virgil Does Dishes, Braxton

1207 Days Without B III, Day 648 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will