Tag: Ending

Tale 159 ~Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton~

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A date which will live in infamy… My Olds weren’t around for Pearl Harbor. But I learned about that, slavery, and other things. But the days in “my” existence, Braxton’s death, E-Day, his B-Day, and Virgil’s. But today, “Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton.”

Thursday, December 7, 2023

Tale 159 ~Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton~

1040 Days Without B III, Day 481 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As usual, my day is crap, and it’s only 9:30 AM. Saying it out loud

Life Sucks! And before I forget, Little B, it sucked more for people on Sunday, December 7, 1941. Why am I thinking of Uncle Sam already? You know how your Daddy’s mind works. And as I said, Life Sucks. I didn’t want to wake up today. Hell! I haven’t wanted to wake up for 1040 Days or longer. All to varying degrees. Virgil ain’t helping. And what about you? I would tell you how sad I am, scared, and to stay off your Aunt’s knockers. I’m sure the critic won’t like that, but whatever. “Whatever” is a step above indifference. But today, it’s not either of those or blah. How about discombobulated? “My” mindset B? You, where’s Virgil, Christmas erotica, Lesbian witches, Uncle Sam, Pearl…

Not the movie. But now I’m thinking about Mia Goth, Jenna Ortega, and that other chick. Ha-ha. Anyway, Pearl Harbor. This Is America. But you treated the house like our own little world; how I miss that. Your anger, your “Aww Daddy,” and “who’s this b*tch.” I wasn’t happy, but I’m never happy. Anything beats this. Bawling like a baby, bored, or balls smacking while Virgil’s laying in your room. Not on punishment or anything. Braxton, it’s sadness, depression, and melancholia on another level. Do dogs have shrinks? I should find one for myself first. But the extra $150.00 I found from Uncle Sam won’t cover that. And how about food? To think for a little while, I forgot about the floor and the flood.

A manifestation of my tears or our tears. Mine and Virgil’s. Do you remember when I was listing off reasons he was here? I said, I heard your voice. He had three black dots. That you couldn’t make this more “black and white.” V has your color around his eyes. But now it’s the tear tracks. It’s like Virgil is perpetually crying. Conan The Barbarian? “He won’t cry, so I cry for him.” That’s Virgil for you. What was it? Last week, I was crying.

That was the first time in a long time. And as you can see, I’m losing track of that, Braxton.

It’s Thursday, but what’s one more day? “Just another girl,” “Another Day,” tear or a doggy. Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

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For the past few weeks… Hell! Why not just say, 1037 days and counting? I’ve been losing. When it comes to the whole Victory or Death bit. One is definitely closer than the other. But what if… Happily ever after? Ha-Ha! But… Have Plans After The Win

Monday, December 4, 2023

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

Three-Hundredth And Twentieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. Does it look like I’m winning to you? Being with my boy, that’s winning.

And dying? As the song goes, “Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die.” (Raises my hand). Hell! Don’t mind if I do, as it beats this place by a mile, Madam. Today at the Day Job, that’s Sunday, December 3, 2023, to be specific. I was thinking, instead of saying, “I’m Here.” I should start saying, “I’m one step closer to my boy.” I wonder, would Braxton consider seeing his Old Man again a win? I looked in the mirror. And I heard the things that came out of my mouth. And as far as my Old Man… I woke up today and this Monday saying, “Soy un perdedor. I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me.” But Virgil?

Talk about taking the L. Of all the people that could have adopted him, he got me. Notice I said adopted. Hell! So was/is Braxton. But I call him my firstborn, my pancake. Because he couldn’t have been more mine if I had “poured the Bisquick. My Braxton, the winner. And with everything going on with the house, I can’t imagine giving some girl the D ha-ha. Yeah, even if I paid for it. And what if it were more than that? Eight years, Madam. That’s how long I’ve been here, and I’ve had no idea what to do: Dad, Hubby, a man in general. No matter what I do, I have plans to get effed… Isn’t that what happened? I just did it myself.

But what if, hmm? I’ve been hearing that a lot. What if or Destinies and the like? To win, ok. There’s a reason I’ve been heavy into HaremLit in my reading. Hell! In my writing. Please! Madam, if I did any of that for real, well… I do want to be a writer. That’s winning. Besides that, I want to be like Dennis Hof. Again, um, dead? But while he was alive, I swear. Next to all those Softcore “films” I was watching, Cathouse was everything, I swear, Madam. Can you imagine me in charge of anything? This house, “my” daily humiliations, and some ho, ho, ho’s. And then there’s a studio like PureTaboo. Live forever and conquer all. Winning! Have Plans After The Win

Tale 154 ~ I’ll B Disappointed, Virgil~

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Not to be Kevin Sorbo here because God knows he’s a disappointment. But I am pretty disappointed… in myself. At least I have the balls to admit it. And other things… such as I like D.Va from Overwatch. And with every breath, I’ll B Disappointed, Virgil.

Saturday, December 2, 2023

Tale 154 ~ I’ll B Disappointed, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… How? I didn’t wake up as one. Hell, the fact that I had to wake up?

And what did I do next? A repeat of last night’s shenanigans? Um, AI isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. And this morning, it was “Not a Tiktok for DVa,” is all I’ll say. Lunalesca, don’t go looking that up (wink). Was I about to say that’s one of the reasons I’m glad Braxton ain’t here? I should be ashamed. The things I would give up to see him. But I must not care that much with 2V in his room and all. And what should I be doing? It’s one of the reasons last night was such a failure. Hell! How about 1035 Days of epic failures? That’s giving myself far too much credit to use that word? Judge for yourself, Lady Lunalesca.

First and foremost, we must never forget I killed my son. I killed Braxton. Euthanasia. Speaking of which, I finished “Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss” yesterday. Uh, that’s on the first. And you know I’ll read Christmas Erotica this month. Or I really hope so with the book “Christmas Stalking.” Contemporary Romance? What, Lady Lunalesca? It’s not like I have any money for books. The new water heater cost $1,000. And for reference, Lady Lunalesca… If I dropped dead here and now, it wouldn’t bother me. But I’m paying to stay in a place when I’d rather not exist. Braxton’s death wasn’t $1,000. “My life” is $175… add on meds. So, $1,000 to hate existing, Lunalesca.

Disappointed might not be the right word? Then again, what about gratitude? I know Lu.

$1,000! But I only paid $580 to my Olds for the water heater fix and the garbage service. I am ungrateful. I’m an adult; I’m a man? Things could have gone worse, Lady Lunalesca. I was expecting it. And B wasn’t here to protect me and I him, Lunalesca. Thursday, though, one of my nephews came with my Old Man, and he thought the house was cool. He showed Virgil some love and marveled at the PS… (cough) 4. To be a hero, dear Lu. I wasn’t for Braxton. But he never looked disappointed. Braxton was sad when he knew. “Daddy, why can’t I stay?” Existence… I’ll B Disappointed, Virgil

1035 Days Without B III, Day 476 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 153 ~Virgil Comes First, Braxton~

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So last week… do I hate every day? Not those in books. So, I read more than I write. And no more grieving books. Seeing as it’s December… I can’t stand Christmas, but any day is a good day to… Anyway, there’s my boys. Virgil Comes First, Braxton

Friday, December 1, 2023

Tale 153 ~Virgil Comes First, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… (Thinks on it a second). I should write a book on Time Travel. Sunday, November 26

That’s as likely as me living up to the title of this. Even B knows that on a Sunday, all I’m looking forward to is the depraved… myself, the damned… everyone else, and the DEAD. But there’s no Walking Dead tonight. And shouldn’t we focus on the Friday that does not yet exist? Hell! You know why we’re talking today. Friday will be horrible. How many days do I say I will be positive about anything? Then existence… Knowledge? I can’t tell you anything about “Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss.” I hope I finish Thursday so I can start… What, celebrating? Ah, to indulge in Christmas Erotica. And what about writing a book? NaNoWriMo? Too Late.

I swear the days I have to remember. And NaNoWriMo is over now. That’s the least of my problems now. Am I reading some bill from my father, or am I reading the room period? Everything there is to read on the Internet, and I’m still so effing STUPID. Christmas? Could Santa bring me some positivity? Better yet, I would take some cash. A boat? Another day. I continue to bring up the flooding on the floor. And “Here I Am” at thirty-nine, needing my father to save me. Braxton was fifteen, and he wanted his daddy to save him. No! At the end of the day, he wanted my love. What would Virgil know about that? But books? I know about Backyard Dungeon 4:

Edging FORward Into Backyard Dungeon
I’m surprised I didn’t fall, being on the edge of my seat the entire time. A great man once talked about kids, animals, and women with attitudes, and I was worried about them all. Whether it is Ibseth awaiting her ever-growing family’s return. SPOILER… there are doggies. And the danger of both worlds coming for Eddie. Plus, there is a distinct lack of “Nictors.” They were there, but that word has never seemed right with me ever… But, like the previous three books, shooting, sex, and more simoleons for Eddie’s growing empire. I can’t wait to read the next one.

That was a book review, Lady Sophia. Something else to read besides how life, uh, existence is terrible. But reading anything. Virgil Comes First, Braxton

1034 Days Without B III, Day 475 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 152 ~Virgil, B’s A Roommate~

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This isn’t my home. Ain’t even my house. So, I’m a spineless, selfish, and spoiled bastard. And skeevy? That’s another story. But seeing a Doc is $175. Plus meds? B III being in a box? No, the water heater is very expensive. “Virgil, B’s A Roommate.”

Thursday, November 30, 2023

Tale 152 ~Virgil, B’s A Roommate~

1033 Days Without B III, Day 474 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Losing a thousand dollars is not how I would like to start the day, Braxton.

Water is essential to life. Do you remember when I purposely tried to end existing? Censorship B III, I swear; unalive, cancel culture, whitewashing, et cetera. Whatever people are calling it this week, everything under the sun. Speaking of which, before sunrise. I was getting into Missing Pieces… Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss. As if I would ever call you a pet. Anyway, that’s not the point. Yesterday, I was missing you, my best friend, firstborn, and always my son. But Virgil? Hell! I keep saying it. When things get really bad, I think of the worst thing ever. The day I lost you. It brings perspective.

Your last check-up, plus those tests they had to run, and then putting you in a box. Let’s not forget the small trinkets and gifts. Were they all worth a thousand bucks? I think so. A price I paid gladly, though I didn’t want to. Is that me being selfish? Hell No! I would have gone full “John Q” if it meant I could have saved your life. Not to go all Taylor Swift, but you belong with me. Maybe Christof from The Truman Show would be better for us.

“You can’t leave, (Braxton). You belong here… with me.” Now that’s me being selfish, B. And again, you ask, but Virgil? Does it help I’m not calling him “freeloader” anymore? Tomorrow, I may forget this.

But the thousand dollars that I’ve lost… Well, not quite yet. And for what? A water heater. If you could tell me something about that concerning you. It would be no problem B. This was/is your home, and I wanted you to be “Safe and Sound.” More Taylor Swift, seriously? We weren’t even big fans of hers. I was more into Ellie Goulding, to be honest, Little B. You were still here for that. But where was I today? Two words: Mia Malkova. The only girls that have been in this house since your Aunt. Tweets, Onlyfans, CashApp. Such is existence. With you, Braxton, I was/am your Dad. Now, I pay rent for an existence I would rather not live. Any day ending with Y. Money for “my” father, females, freaking everything. Uh, that’s called adulting. Virgil, B’s A Roommate

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

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One of the worst things about being lazy. It’s sitting here being lazy, knowing I’m lazy. Yet I work… ha-ha. So I can afford to be lazy. Then I say I want a beautiful wife, a bunch of kids, businesses, Braxton. I’d be a king? Best Seat Is The Throne.

Monday, November 27, 2023

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

Three-Hundredth And Nineteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But I’m here, aren’t I? Sitting in anxiety, anguish, antsy as all Hell. An A for alliteration?

Maybe then I wouldn’t be sitting on my butt in the middle of the bed if I made more A’s. My father would have beat me more if I had flunked out of Summer School. But there’s Times Like These… What? Thanksgiving or Monday? I wish he’d done the “deed.” Inevitably, I want to be with Braxton. It’s funny how my son was always looking for comfy spots. We both agreed on Yabbos. But then again, he ended up in Heaven, The Rainbow Bridge, or wherever. And I would choose his fur over any girl. No melons are that nice. And yet I sit here at the Dining Room table where I told him one day it’d be worth it. His pillow, bed, my lap

Now I sit alone in the car. But no, I don’t feel “safest of all.” Braxton hated car rides. Once again, my Little B was right about something. Have I ever felt comfortable driving? I know the longest drive was to B’s aunt’s wedding. And renewing my driver’s license… With all of that, where else do I go? I can sit for a few minutes at the Day Job. And hate the whole damn world. That’s why we’re talking Thanksgiving Day. Because as I sit in fear there. I’ll have to rise to get the door for a Thanksgiving meal today: the horror, the horror. Madam, I’m sure the food is good, but it’s the fact I rise at all. I’m like The Walking Dead.

And there was a time I thought if “God Gave Me Everything I Want,” I’d be in a beach chair talking to you. I could look out and see my children playing in the sand. My wife would be beside me or with the kids. Braxton would be in his little chair, getting too old. Only right this second, I want to be in bed. Madam, I mean a king-size mattress. And may I have an understanding wife with the businesses I want to run? Back, butt, beneath me.

Wheeler Walker Jr. sang, “I don’t need no air.” Women can lead you to the grave, sigh. I could be The Succubus Lord taking Hell’s throne. But the Sword of Damocles? Best Seat Is The Throne

1030 Days Without B III, Day 471 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 147 ~Crying! Can’t B, Virgil…~

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I’m not a math guy. But what do you get when you dream of being a baby, plus a movie like The Golden Child. Eddie Murphy asking for advice from The Old Man. Then there’s a boy and his mom in Squid Game, then The Cress Theory. Crying! Can’t B, Virgil…

Saturday, November 25, 2023

Tale 147 ~Crying! Can’t B, Virgil…~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… which means the whole death and taxes stick is not a universal truth. No, for me…

A thirty-nine-year-old man? As they say, comedy comes in threes. So here are three truths.

The first, always and forever, is my son is dead. But more to the point, I won’t CONSIDER him dead. Yes, I killed him by sitting here refusing to acknowledge him. And Let Me Sign. You know my name on the dotted line in the veterinarian’s office. Braxton is dead. Secondly, while I’m asking, “Is It A Crime?” Let’s speak of my CRIMINALITY. Not a dad goes by that I don’t break the law. Hell! I’ve been lying here in my bed doing what Lu?

Well, after that, the third thing is this? I’ve been CRYING. Again I am damn near forty, Lady Lunalesca, and I’m breaking down into tears.

I have seen the ocean once… I had one picture to prove it. So, of course, the Olds took it. Lunalesca, I haven’t been welcome in their home forever. But the last time I was there, Lu, it wasn’t a picture of me anywhere. Birth certificate, diploma, awards, or whatever. How do I know if I was ever born? Do I even exist? I can point out another truth, Luna. As the song goes, “I don’t wanna die. I sometimes wish I’d never been born at all.” With all of these tears, the ocean I’ve seen could be all the crying I’ve done. Yesterday, today. Go back to when I was a child. As if I’m not now. I HAD to call my Old Man.

What! I can’t let the house flood. While I consider this place Braxton’s home. Lunalesca, this house has never been mine. And what does this mean for poor little Virgil? Reincarnation of my son. No, he is not. I couldn’t save him from the heat. And I can’t do anything about the flood. Well, other than Thoughts and Prayers. And with me as the cause of all this mess. The Hauntings of Playing God… And without Squid Game Cash Luna. That’s what I did after talking to my Old Man. I lost myself in TV and books. So sad, Lu. And more pathetic than my boys. It would explain the dreams I’ve been having… me crying and naked. The Golden Child? Crying! Can’t B, Virgil…

1028 Days Without B III, Day 469 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 146 ~Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil~

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Do I hate every day? The ones that end in Y. Black Friday? It’s not Braxton’s last day, my first E-Day, Father’s Day, etc. Black Friday should be on the low end. But without B and dealing with people. It could be worse. Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil.

Friday, November 24, 2023

Tale 146 ~Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Even though I’m not good at it. Even though it hasn’t happened yet. (Sings) Time Travel!

For the record, today is Wednesday, November 22, 2023. So it’s Thanksgiving Eve, My Lady. I have the rest of the day to think about what I’m thankful for… That I haven’t forgotten Braxton’s story. Indeed, his two novels… But the day I found out he was dying was a Friday. And unfortunately for my son, “I said, he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” So no, Braxton didn’t come back on a Sunday. He died right in his bed on a steel table with me holding his little head like I was the freaking Reaper in “Tha Crossroads.” I’m thankful that no matter how bad things get, the worst day of my existence has come and gone. And what about Virgil? Someday, Lady Sophia…

But not today? As far as Wednesday, the most I’ve said to him is he’s a little fatty. And whose fault is that? Have you met my Ma? That is, if she brought food for us on Thanksgiving Day. Cross your fingers. Other than that, it’s been sleeping in daily. Inevitably, he’d put on a little pudge, not that it’s his choice with my laziness and fear of the outside world. Plus, it’s getting cold. Speaking of which, am I cold for leaving him in Braxton’s room? He could go whenever he wanted, but like father, like freeloader, I know. And it’s only getting colder. You know what I mean since we’re talking today. People? There should be stories of people hurting me, Black Friday.

But let the world do its worst. I had my son euthanized. Hell! If I ever get back to writing. No, Lady Sophia! I killed my son. He started dying on a Wednesday when I was so damn angry, and I didn’t want to hear about his problems. Indifferent. As I gathered him up in my arms and took a nap. And now I’m mad again because that thought alone should be enough to stop me from napping. Even the phone asks if I want a nap meditation session. I won’t be getting one of those Friday. And would I need one if it wasn’t for the Day Job? I ain’t buying anything today. Unless Braxton’s life was on sale… Again? Braxton’s Black Friday Virgil

1027 Days Without B III, Day 468 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 145 ~Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton~

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What sound does a turkey make? “It’s turkey time. Gobble, gobble.” Personally, I’m more JLAW than JLO, but anyway. Braxton and I didn’t have many Thanksgiving traditions. I hope my Ma sends food. Virgil dreams the same. “Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton.”

Thursday, November 23, 2023

Tale 145 ~Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton~

1026 Days Without B III, Day 467 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sure you went all “U Name It” wherever you are. Now Virgil and I…

Well, Virgil might as well be a turkey because he’s not doing any talking. But I’m guessing he knows what day it is, considering he’s been extra cuddly this morning. And look at me being a meanie, pushing him by his big belly away from me. But at least I got up “on time.” And what does that mean? I’ve got nowhere to go today. Will Ma come out today?

Your grandmommy, B, hasn’t failed yet, but as the song goes, “What’s My Age Again?” Next to your death, getting older is my prevalent thought. Two worst days of existence. But shouldn’t we be talking about one of the best of yours? Thanksgiving is Christmas. At least to you, it was/is. To me, Another Day

I can’t even think about turkey or ham with that energy shot I took an hour ago. I did mention that I’m wide awake. Woke, as it were. Should I watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade? I’m at a loss as to what to do today. We had no traditions, B III. Nothing at all…

I’ve even gone back to last year, and it looks like I was in the same place or thereabouts.

The freaking Day Job. Tomorrow will be Hell! So I’ll spend most of the day wishing I was a deep-fried turkey. Watching people burn down their houses is one of the many things I’ve been up to this morning. One of the more… innocent. Then, Karlee Grey in “Native Passion.” Eww.

And to think there was a time I was rather glad you got into trouble so I had alone time.

I would give it all up if I could have you back again, Braxton. That would be something to be thankful for. But honestly, I feel like the Native Americans in the aftermath of meeting the pilgrims. No Bueno. Like the film Silent Hill, “Your Faith Brings Death.” Offending everyone everything today? Turkeys, Christians, Ma, Native Americans… All the reasons I’m going to fry, roast, um, bake? I’m going to Hell, but I’m not a cook B. It’s why I’ll be thankful for your grandmommy. I’m thankful Virgil is alive. Always and forever, I’m thankful and damn proud you’re my boy. Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 142 ~Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine~

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“If you can make a woman laugh, you can make her do anything,” that’s my only interest in Laughter. B made everyone laugh, including me. And I looked after him for fifteen years. What’s Laughter done for me lately? “Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine.”

Monday, November 20, 2023

Tale 142 ~Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine~

Three-Hundredth And Eighteenth Rule

Madam Justice

Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Hell! Plain ole words, too. The comedian is dead. My son. And FTWD. We are the dead.

I’m not trying to be comedic, clever, or cool. That’s for damn sure. And you know what I’m not cool with? Laughter. “I smile… I laugh… I rejoice this day.” A lot of days, Madam. Back in the day, I wanted to be a comic. I wrote comics for… let’s say a few weeks, Madam. Not the funny kind. But I didn’t start hating Laughter until E-Day number seven. Hmm? I don’t remember, and I don’t want to. Every day we move past E-Day thirty-nine, I come to another truth. I wasted “my” life. Um, existence. And the comedian is still alive and well. Nothing will be bringing Braxton back. And “Fear The Walking Dead” isn’t officially dead and buried, as I missed one episode.

How embarrassing. Braxton would give me one of his patented looks. Every Sunday, I chose my love of the dead over him. And yet I decided to kill him on a Sunday. What! The Walking Dead was on hiatus. Oh! You mean the whole “I killed my best friend” thing. Braxton had a dark sense of humor like his Dad. Again, I remember him giving me those… AHEM “blah, is you crazy?” But he never laughed. He would smile, remain silent, and then sleep. And that was my solace. My cure to every day. Let the people laugh at me. Madam, what else is there for me if it isn’t my son sleeping or guarding me while I sleep? I really want to know. You?

While I’m busy singing one of Jodeci’s hits. “Come And Talk To Me,” for those unaware of the classics. How about “Let’s Talk About Sex?” If you’re wondering why I’m late talking to you, Madam. If it weren’t for the humiliations galore at the Day Job, I would say I hate the implication of “We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off” right now. So, without my Braxton, I’m left with sex and music. And both can be funny in their way, too. As a thirty-nine-year-old man, it’s hilarious that I have to tell succubus stories to sleep. Laughter is one of those medications where the side effects are worse than the disease. Won’t laugh, smile, make a funny face… Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine

1023 Days Without B III, Day 464 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will