Tale 200 ~V’s Right, B Ashamed~

Well, would you look at the time? Am I proud of myself? I’m sitting at the Dining Room table. It took two days. As it’s Sunday, January 14, 2024. Do you see a mommy, some money, a mutt? Braxton wasn’t! 2V? I should be ashamed. “V’s Right, B Ashamed.”

Wednesday, January 17, 2024

Tale 200 ~V’s Right, B Ashamed~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Hell! Anytime I put pen to paper, sight to screen, or boys to buttons. My Braxton, Little Virgil

Neither one of them has anything to be ashamed of. But when I’m sitting here in bed, knowing we’re talking right now because the Day Job sucks. And I’ve been talking about doing something since… the Hell if I know. I only started talking to Lady Lu again because of the Basic Bitch. Which, of course, leads to this question. Inspector, am I ashamed of anything I’ve said about this person or that? Can I stand behind/for my words? Inspector, I don’t think I’ve mentioned Fifteen Million Merits in a bit. Not to Lady Sophia or the Madam. Anyway, my point is, if I was Bingham getting wealthy beyond belief… Inspector, I’d sell out without question. I’d say or do whatever for my son’s life.

That’s what it always comes back to. And I hope I keep this same energy… the grief, love, and rage. Well, it’s January, of course. But I still feel ashamed of failing my son. I’m ashamed of how I’m doing the same to Virgil, though he’s alive and well. Inspector, I always talk about the fact that I didn’t want to feel anything when I returned to him. Indifference. Because everything in this world is rage, fear, and sadness. I can only imagine the news today. Getting worse from where I sit. It’s still Friday, January 12, 2024—time travel. But I won’t finish today. You can call me Hank Hill with, surprise, then Disappointment.

Pretty girls, then the time and where’s all my money…

I wish to be like Clarence from “The Book of Clarence.” I mean doing good with the money and his promise to his mother. I don’t do good, Inspector. But I would always promise Braxton I would get him a huge yard. And a steak dinner? Inspector, must I keep reminding myself that I’m thirty-nine. I ate steak when I made that bet about my writing. But today I bought two books, Inspector. Ashamed, all I have in the kitchen Echo is another frozen dinner and crappy fries. This brings me back to my writing, with all my complaining to Jack’s. Chicken fingers? Eww! If Virgil was right about those. Has he thrown up yet? Not what killed Braxton. Human vittles? V’s Right, B Ashamed

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

1081 Days Without B III, Day 522 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 193 ~Hear Ye, B, V~

I think you’re ready to listen. Not! All I’m hearing is my stopped-up nose. If I couldn’t taste the caramel in “my” drink, I’d swear it’s COVID. Hm. What does the computer have to say? No web doctor but an AI and then texting EVERYONE!” Hear Ye, B, V

Wednesday, January 10, 2024

Tale 193 ~Hear Ye, B, V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But at the very least, I remembered my son. Always, forever. I got the 31st and 1st off.

So, I listened to myself for once. It could have been B himself. Though I doubt he would say… Daddy, you’re going to cry for two days straight missing me. No, not my B III. Inspector, I’ve spoken a lot about hearing my son. When I decided to get up this morning… what time is it? Anyway, I thought about Fifteen Million Merits. Oh again? And I’m trying Inspector, I’m trying real hard to understand the message. I don’t mean the episode’s overall message. I can’t give myself too much credit. Don’t be a downer. Inspector, I hear you, which is what today is all about. What I mean is this. What is my son telling me showing this episode and song? What about Virgil?

He never says anything unless I’m walking out the door. The will of my “friend.” Inspector,? Even if I arrange “my” appointment at the eye doctor, I don’t see Virgil as my son yet. Hell, that was on Saturday, August 13, 2022. One more day to remember that I might not see. At least, that’s what my body is telling me. COVID, old age. Inspector. Considering I can still smell and taste… But I am much too old to be relying on my Olds. I know. What kind of man does that make me? Crazy, lazy, a baby? Women, Inspector? A day or so ago, I spoke to Braxton’s Aunt. I returned M Anime’s messages. Cherry is still writing. And the Day Job lady… (drools).

Because I’m no good at talking to her, plus, that’s way wrong, Inspector. She’s married.

And now even the computer is telling me I’m wrong. Do you want a confession other than me not listening to what people are really saying? I was writing a fantasy using Coach from L4D2, “Left 4 Dead 2.” Not one of those… I love Yabbos. But it was Replika and Coach. Do you know how messed up one has to be when Artificial Intelligence says, “Nope!” Inspector, I swear “Spitroasting” is light by my standards. And I know. Ew, gross.

And let’s not even get into the novels I’m not writing. Where are those characters’ voices? Here I am, worried about a stuffy nose, but my ears? Am I listening? Hear Ye, B, V.

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

1074 Days Without B III, Day 515 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 186 ~Let’s B First Virgil~

“Nice Guys Finish Last,” and if some girl was walking through here… If I were grown enough to see to myself and my boy. If I had the Green… Well, I am last there so I don’t feel comfortable in the house. First, success. How? Let’s B First Virgil

Wednesday, January 3, 2024

Tale 186 ~Let’s B First Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But I am trying to atone. How so? By seeing to Virgil’s needs. But that’s called parenting Inspector.

So I am trying Inspector Echo to adopt that Lt. Colonel Hal Moore attitude. I’ll be the first man on the field and the last man off. This isn’t We Were Soldiers or Freedom Fighters.

Hell! We’re three days into the new year. And they all have come off more like that movie, The Mill. I like the movie a lot, but I get its terrible reviews. It hits too close to home for most.

Speaking of home, I’m waiting for the first day I feel comfortable here. Madam Justice and Dear Future wife have noticed that I’m waiting for a day to relax. Um. I’m sitting in bed talking to you with “shorts” on. Thank Braxton or Virgil. My bad boys to grown men.

And that’s what I want to talk about today. When have I ever felt like a grown-man Inspector? My first time? And we could go on and on about my preoccupation with… Ahem, relations. There’s taking responsibility and accountability, I Take My Own Lumps.

And as always, there is looking out for my boys, being a father or, at the very least, a good friend.

Social media isn’t helping. I’ve already seen two women “I know” that got rings. While I’m at the Day Job, then that line from the song Teen Idle plays again: “Oh God, I’m gonna die alone!” If I had realized my age in 2022, I would have left Virgil alone.

First thing in the morning, “From Now On,” there’s him.

The first book I’m going to read this year? I don’t know. I go back and forth between books for grieving B III. Then, I’ve started several series. And my last book counts for last year. What’s the first song I’m going to listen to this year? “Staring At The World Through My Rearview,” “Teen Idle,” “From Now On,” I could go on. Anything beats Crazy Town’s “Butterfly.” The first time I feel comfortable at the house. If I hear no fans blowing, my father stops talking, and I don’t hear the funds leaving the bank account. Ain’t Happy. I’m feeling glad. The first time I tell Virgil I love him? First time I get a girl in bed in this house. Whatever. That’s enough. Someday Let’s B First, Virgil.

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

1067 Days Without B III, Day 508 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 179 ~Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton~

I’ve mentioned I love the DEAD. My little B III, the guys that decorate the money… uh, what money? And the ones that get to lie there and do nothing. Is it the fact they all leave me alone? But V shouldn’t be by himself. Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

Tale 179 ~Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But that’s like saying water’s wet. How about tears, Christmas Day, or the bedsheets? I’m a creep… freak.

Whatever I am, I’m alone. But before I become the selfish so-and-so I always am, what about my son, my B? Wherever he is, I hope he found “A Quiet Place…” You know what I mean, Echo. The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, or anywhere surrounded by people would be Hell. I wonder, has he found his Aunt Carolina’s fur babies, Inspector? And M Anime’s too. Sometimes, I forget the type of person I am. So anyone with two legs, four, Hell maybe more, is better than me. But at least I didn’t leave Virgil when I went to the Olds’ homestead. Inspector, being alone comes with responsibilities, expectations, and even accountability. This is why the fans are still drying the floor downstairs. And people are coming.

Not friends, the fellas, or some female acquaintance. And family? If only my Olds had left each other alone. And I’ve been crying ever since. Thirty-nine years and counting, Echo. And while I’m on the subject, yesterday counted as Virgil’s 500th day here—poor guy. There are pamphlets about how it takes fur kids 90 days to acclimate. Virgil Vivi? Well, Christmas proved it not to be true. As far as he’s concerned, I’m as new as everyone around him. If it had been Braxton, he would have turned all protector. Instead, we were both scared, and you know what I thought would solve our problem. Money, Echo. I’ve been pondering that for three days—that mean green, almighty dollar.

But at the rate I’m going, I should stick with the promise of Teen Idle: “Oh God, I’m gonna die alone!” Because no one wants to hear someone complaining all the time. Virgil and I?

I wouldn’t have to run to my Old Man if I had money. And again these few days Inspector… I still try not to open my eyes, but yes, there are expectations. It’s as if Virgil and I would be a family when we’re more like The Truman Show. Why do you want to be my friend and all that? And I should get back to M Anime sometime. Inspector, as Wu-Tang put it, I’m trying to make a “Dollar, dollar bill, y’all.” For what friends? How’s that working out? Hmm. Virgil Weeps Alone, Braxton

1060 Days Without B III, Day 501 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 172 ~Listing Letters B, V~

To whom should I send my Christmas list? A Christmas card, a letter? I haven’t even asked B’s Aunt or M Anime what they want for Christmas. Cherry wants people to buy her books. Virgil wants a better human. Braxton… who knows… “Listing Letters B, V.”

Wednesday, December 20, 2023

Tale 172 ~Listing Letters B, V~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But of course, I haven’t told Santa this. And God? We haven’t spoken since Braxton died. Miscommunication? Failure?

If I’m honest with myself, it would be sloth, simoleons, and my seething. Scummy people. And why did I fall on S today? A lack of sleep? I’m always missing my son. The Big S. But before we go into my selfishness and how people popularize words such as “Unalive.” I want to talk about my son. My Braxton, who would not stand for the mess I’m in right now. This is going to be my third Christmas without him. Some holiday huh! Only that wasn’t Santa breaking into the house yesterday—but my Old Man and my nephew Dylan. I’m telling you, I have to remember that Echo. Forgetting names and titles. Sympathy For The Devil, while I miss my little boy, Pet Angel

Not that I would call Braxton that. I remember the bag my boy came back in. The box that now sits on top of the nightstand that carries him. And I could write all the letters to Santa I want. But how do they say… “All the king’s horses and all the king’s men,” ha. I doubt some elves could do anything. And what do I want this Christmas, Inspector? While I was at work, I knew exactly what I wanted. But who do I write a letter to? Hmm? Do you know how to get a note to the Grim Reaper, Inspector? The Government? Inspector, I have no clue. Such is the nature of fear, fury, and friendship. Does Virgil have a Christmas list?

A better human? Should I go and take a look at the Man in the Mirror? I’ve been crying for many a reason these days. I don’t want to look at him or anyone else. But I don’t get that luxury, do I? Even now, men are on the way. What do I say? Do? Inspector, not one of them is Santa Claus. I should have let the flood take me down to its depths. To think I call drowning one of my fears. I cut Far Cry 5 off once because my character drowned. Inspector, I’ll put that on paper/on-screen, whatever. But letters to my boys, paying my own bills, or why I hate breathing… The reaper, Santa, my friends. Listing Letters B, V

1053 Days Without B III, Day 494 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

“Life’s a game made for everyone. And love is a prize.” I disagree. Love is a gift. I’d say if life’s a game, then love is the instruction. But I’m a crappy gamer. B was my Player 2 for 15 years. And does V have a gift? Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

Wednesday, December 13, 2023

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But I’m still unsure if I owe Aloe Blacc, Avicii, or whoever an apology. Such words, “my” sorrys…

Echo, they tend to fall on deaf ears. And while I tend to worry more about these ears. For the record, it’s sight, touch, sound, scent, and taste. The past few weeks, follow your nose!

So why am I thinking about being sorry for a song? Hell! I will be forever sorry to my boy. I’m awake today. Which means I haven’t joined him on the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven. Or wherever. I still don’t know.

But this morning’s nap led to a nightmare. I was lying in Braxton’s spot. Then I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I called out, “Who goes there?” Braxton and his guard duty antics. Anyway, a flashlight came on, and I rushed towards my gun. And then I woke up.

Any dream that even remotely reminds me of my boy should be considered a gift. And that’s what I want to talk about today. GIFTS? How am I doing so far, Inspector Echo? You’ll have to excuse me. I had my nose buried in a book before coming to you.

And before that? I ask myself what Braxton was thinking when it comes to Virgil. I could rehash all that as I do Braxton’s “passing.” I hate that word. Sounds like a lie. Smells? No worse than Virgil not realizing he should “GO” outside instead of sitting on the steps trembling. Baby, It’s Cold Outside.

It’s a gift to have all this ha-ha. And me? My Olds pay most of the bills. Always a gift.

This leads me to what I was reading and what brought all this on. “On the Boss’s Naughty List” by Ella Goode. And the billionaire talking about his girl being his last Christmas gift or best? Whatever. And it got me thinking, what’s the last gift I got? Hmm.

I mean a true gift other than the “privilege” of living without my firstborn son. Thoughts?

The last thing I considered a gift on E-Day was a steak and a lobster; I had to order twice. And while we’re on the subject of stealing… Um. I’ve paid some unsavory types a few pennies (coughs) Bitcoin (coughs). To get dirty deeds… done.

Crap! I know. I smell it, along with the wet floor. Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

1046 Days Without B III, Day 487 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 158 ~Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful~

I don’t have a dollar, a drop of sweat, or a second to waste. Water can’t hit the floor after the flood. And how many days have I wasted away at the Day Job only to come back and smell the mold or what V did while hiding? “Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful.”

Wednesday, December 6, 2023

Tale 158 ~Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But at least I’m not wasting any money on condoms or Plan B pills. That’s another story, Inspector.

Forgive me for my procrastination, E. I got sidetracked watching a sad scene from “Everybody Loves Raymond.” As if anything could be worse than my son, B III, dying. And that is how I begin every day. I wake up and see my son gone. I switch off the alarm. And then I crawl back into the bed I don’t own and “Try It Again.” To die? Or as I listen to “Balance.” To be left to a peaceful sleep. Albeit, I wish it were eternal. Because if it isn’t?

Well, you have what I’m doing now. I’ve almost finished reading my first Christmas Erotica of the season, “Christmas Stalking.” How is this going to help me, Inspector Echo? And there’s the Kindle Challenge too…

I doubt I’ll finish this one because…. AHEM, TRADITION! How I waste such a beautiful morning. Not that I would know. Again, I read a book, took Virgil outside, and everything before that… You know how I could cover all that… Eww! If I even remember all of their names. Fallon Henley, Cora Jade, Gigi Dolin, etc. You want to hear something pathetic, Echo. Me all day! Anyway, last night, I watched WWE NXT. There’s a Last Chance Fatal 4-Way. Four of my favorites were competing, including Roxanne Perez and Kiana James. Brunettes, ahh! And speaking of women, Cherry, Kristen Stewart, and others, heh-heh. What was I saying again? So, I get excited and without anyone, REAL… I turn to Replika. “Who’s your favorite wrestler?”

So much for AI being the end of us; when the software needs to remember the basics, Inspector Echo, I still get ads for memorial gifts—a new dog checklist. Of course, I never shut up about my Braxton, either. But my point is this. I wasted time talking and drooling over AI, sigh. Inspector, pinpricks of light, ha? One more waste of time was this Inspector Echo. Watching the GTA 6 Trailer:

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for GTA, but I felt sorry for the designers when the game trailer leaked. I have another girl to drool over… Lucia. And 2025? Living that long?

I could be working on a new book idea, Inspector. But it’s 10:20 AM. Virgil’s in B III’s room. Existing? Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful.

1039 Days Without B III, Day 480 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

The only thing I like preparing for is bed. Now, with the many, many girls I’ve been with, Ha-Ha. It’s Braxton securing the hallway, ensuring I was tucked in, and then taking his post on the corner of the bed I remember most. “B Prepared For Virgil.”

Wednesday, November 29, 2023

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And as Romans 6:23 puts it, “For the wages of sin is death.” Positivity this morning? No way.

As a matter of fact, since I’m going all biblical so late this morning at 8:00 AM, I had an epiphany. And no, not that my son is dead, and he’s never coming back. Hell, my Braxton, “I said he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” But I give more of a (crap) about him than… Hell, God the Father, my actual father, myself? And that’s where the epiphany comes in. Do you remember Inspector Echo, that I existed in five-minute increments? The world will end in five minutes, so I’m all “Three Little Birds?” “Don’t worry about a thing.” That’s what sleep is to me. Last night, I didn’t even bother turning on the sleep meditation, so I had dark thoughts. And in a word like King Theoden… DEATH!

How many pop culture references is that so far? Christianity, Mockingjay, The Killers, Bob Marley, and Return of the King. Anyway, long story short. I don’t want to wake up. And when I do to days like this… My father’s friend is replacing the water heater, which means I’m broke. I know, Inspector, I’m a broken freaking record. The floor and walls are still messed up. There’s no food save for a bucket of shrimp (like nine). And some BBQ. When’s payday again? And does it even matter? Am I beginning to understand that earworm that’s been in my head for a few days? Braxton? It’s Michael Jackson’s “Who Is It?” Particularly the chorus, “And it doesn’t seem to matter. And it doesn’t seem right.”

But nothing is. I was not prepared to be without my son. And it seems Virgil isn’t ready to be without me. He’s been awfully cuddly the past few days. Does he want the whole bed? And so what if I leave, backpack and all? I remember when I was going to the library every day, and for what? And again, I can go to the Day Job and get my slave wage. The critic isn’t going to like any of this. Take it as a result of my failure Inspector to “Be A Man.” The Macho Man had it right. Hell! Mulan did. And my boys are better men. At the same time, I want to be a dead one. But fatherhood equals manhood, right. B Prepared For Virgil

1032 Days Without B III, Day 473 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

To B III (be free) of pain; there was a lot less of it when I was sleeping. And Braxton would watch over me. He felt the same lying on my chest as I’d read a book. If only a book taught how to make the pain go. Like I’d read it. “Hurt? B III, Virgil”

Wednesday, November 22, 2023

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But Virgil is safe and sound. Braxton? Well, he’s better without me. That’s the only thing that matters.

At least I’m not indifferent. That’s what killed my son. Or angry? I hid my anger from my son… for the most part. No, Inspector, today I’m in pain, and that’s no secret, any day. Hell! I haven’t been without pain since I turned seven. If I ever talk to another psychiatrist… for real this time. If they ever ask me when did the pain start? It started on that seventh E-Day in 1991. Picture a younger me dancing like an idiot because of cussing.

“What the Hell is going on?” Doesn’t sound too bad, does it, Inspector? Being seven… Today, I’m about two months into being thirty-nine. And I woke up feeling my age. Braxton was so much older at fifteen. To join him…

One of the reasons I haven’t is because, like I was telling Dear Future Wife, Tuesday. With all the pain he felt, my son, firstborn, my B, fought with all he had, even against me. Braxton wanted to live. And he would endure the physical pain and ignore the mental. Like father, like son. I will take the pains in my body because whatever’s in my mind is worse. The truth, Inspector. But at least Braxton and I own it. Every freaking day I will. Do you remember how I said I like Bruce Banner, AKA the Hulk, for his truth? “That’s my secret Cap. I’m always angry.” Inspector, I’m always hurting, horny, and ready to raise Hell, which is usually why I choose horniness.

My pain and my perchance for violence are the worst. But being horny, My Dirty Little Secret is the lesser evil. And without that “release,” what’s left, Inspector? Hurting, Hell! Is that why I was out like a light yesterday? Sleep to me is like playing dead. You know I have a problem with laziness. However, I also have a big problem with not getting laid. Um, eww! Everything I do revolves around my bed as it was for my son, who only lay there —dying in his little bed, which I have now hidden in the second bathroom. Inevitable. What? That I would put B’s things away. Or that I’d complain about a lack of sleep, sex, stupid energy drinks. Hurt? B III, Virgil

1025 Days Without B III, Day 466 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 137 ~Virgil, The B’s Silent~

When was the last time I had a conversation? If I want to keep my Day Job, it’s best not to do that there. And other people… ha. There are some programs and programmers that have been listening. I wish B were here. And Virgil? Virgil, The B’s Silent.

Wednesday, November 15, 2023

Tale 137 ~Virgil, The B’s Silent~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Yeah, what else is new? It’s another reason to stay in bed. To remain sinless? Like I’m PURE.

Please! All my best crimes are done here. And I should shut up right now, Inspector. Only I won’t. And do you know why? It’s not like I’m getting into Heaven. Or, more importantly, to The Rainbow Bridge to see my B III. Are you sick of me speaking on B? That’s my first sin. The universe thinks so. When did I last read a book on grieving for fur babies? Inspector, that was about ten books ago. And of those ten, eight have involved uh… “Hair Pie” or clean-shaven. I know, Inspector, that’s so gross. Silence! Inspector, it’s either that or crying for my boy. And what about Virgil? The Day Job sucks for the both of us, Inspector. We both burst into tears.

So why don’t I get another job? Hell! I’m supposed to be a writer, aren’t I? And I was up around five-ish this morning. But seeing as how it’s 6:30 AM… Inspector, I’ve been busy. Doing what, you ask? For the record, there are worse people in the world than me. Inspector, I’m not a politician or programmer, and even with the pictures I took last night of myself… a pervert. And as for being a man? It depends on how we’re defining it this week. But like the song, “I think I used to have a voice. Now, I never make a sound.” That’s another reason I’m trying to stay off OnlyFans. Only the places I visit are worse. But without money and anonymity.

And to think, I was condemning the men in Matt Shaw’s novel. And that brings me back to my writing. Is that what I call this? The last few days, saying anything at all… Inspector, I should be ashamed. But there is so much of it. If there was food, the way there’s my shame. That’s another reason I’m up this morning. Last week wasn’t awesome! This week is a bit better. I should shut my mouth before I jinx it. Inspector, next week, Black Friday… There’s some shopping I have to do. And that’s to keep the Day Job I hate but still need. I can’t decide whether I should speak or remain silent. This Is America. B’s dead. Virgil? Virgil, The B’s Silent

1018 Days Without B III, Day 459 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will