Tag: Evil

Meditation 205 ~B Nights, See Virgil~

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The morning is looking better than last night. I’m so busy “talking” that I don’t have to think, and isn’t that normal… But I would rather be talking to B or falling asleep with him watching over me. Positive days. Better. “B Nights, See Virgil”

Wednesday, January 22, 2025

Meditation 205 ~B Nights, See Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo (my inner voice and guide)
For I have sinned… Can’t I do anything right? Even the simple act of sleeping eludes me. Last night was particularly rough. Virgil slept soundly, a stark contrast to my restless night.

If Virgil spends three hours… or more howling for me to come back. I swear… the neighbors must hate me if he’s making all that noise. I came back from a three-hour shift, and Virgil was losing his effing mind. Do I want to be thought of or completely ignored?

Anyway, so last night, first, my mind was going bonkers. How could I tell right?

Inspector, I had so many worries bouncing back and forth that I turned to meditation…

It didn’t help… However, I did drift off at some point during the night. But considering I was up at 4 AM, fell back to sleep at 5:40 AM, and slept for another hour… Inspector?

It’s another day slipping away, weighed down by the relentless demands of life. My LIFE? Eff!

On a brighter note, I found solace in the absence of nightmares about my son, Braxton. For that, I am truly grateful. Say what?

Inspector, that’s a positive? How dare I show gratitude for that. If anything, I didn’t have to call upon the greatest tragedy in “MY LIFE” to hold back everything else. Again, when existing becomes too much to endure… And trust me, I have looked at my special drawer with longing curiosity. I usually call upon Braxton’s loss. “I’m still breathing. I’m Alive!” If I survived the loss of my child, yes, “MY CHILD!” That nothing on this Earth can hurt me. Not even a Trump Presidency… God! I’m avoiding the news like a GD plague.

Eff Donald Trump, FDT! Fortunately, he wasn’t in my nightmares. It was my worries and… GULP! Women! But before we get into that. What had me all pretzel-shaped last night:

  1. Returning my ISP’s stuff
  2. Paying the Termite Inspector
  3. Paying off Waste Management
  4. Low Tire Pressure Warning
  5. My Day Job Performance
  6. Keeping The Heat On
  1. Arranging an Eye Appointment
  2. Paying off the “HOA”
  3. Whatever Donald Trump Does
  4. Braxton Barks Bradford Memorial

I’m sure there’s more Inspector Echo, but now you see why I don’t have time for those Six Impossible Things I write down every week. Between this Inspector and women…

Whatever! Another excuse for drooling over “Ryan and His Beauties 2.” I’m falling behind “Satan’s Sorority Girls” 8 and 9. Yet, somehow, I sleep; Virgil too. B Nights, See Virgil

1452 Days Without B III, Day 893 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 198 ~B Emotional Virgil, Indifference…~

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All from a thirty-minute trip. I can remember days when I feared no evil. I remember days when fear, anger, and evil were everything. My son and I fighting my father. B’s loss. A fast food trip. And yet I smile. B Emotional Virgil, Indifference…

Wednesday, January 15, 2025

Meditation 198 ~B Emotional Virgil, Indifference…~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… But on Tuesday, January 14, 2025, this afternoon, I rather talk about emotions. Being afraid, angry, and indifferent.

And my GRATITUDE for it… What do you expect, Echo? You want my positivity now.

All it takes is a thirty-minute trip to the gas station, McDonald’s, and “home” again.

Inspector, that’s why I’m afraid. Really! What is it that I tell Braxton? From Spontaneous:

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

There I was driving, and the fear, sadness, and anxiety overflowed like my orange soda. And it is not ok to “live” like this. I swear sitting here one more day in bed. Being scared. And when I leave this room… It’s no good for V, either. But we sit together, exhausted by our fears, or is it the fast food. And what would Virgil know about any females, Inspector?

And like a great king said… And yet, I smile.

Even through the anger… That’s what comes next, Inspector. At both man and machine. Monsters, both real and imaginary. Both mostly at myself. My dear E, I’m “Just A Man.”

Please, if only. And for the record, I’m not worthy of this song or “Like A Prayer. All the awesome things Braxton sends my way. And who am I? Not the brave man beside him. I’m frozen in fear and must summon up the blood, rage, and darkness that becomes the blaze to get myself moving. The fire under my feet, a step closer on the Highway To Hell. Run Boy Run. B and my “unofficial” theme song. To or from battle? I don’t know.

Inspector, does it even matter anymore? And yet, I smile.

Because I feel something. And that, above all, beats Indifference. It wasn’t fear or anger…

Ok, so maybe there was some anger. But I’ve admitted I wanted to protect Braxton, Inspector. My anger was never about him. So I tried to feel nothing, which cost me my son, B III.

But when I’m sitting in the middle of the road, Inspector Echo, having a breakdown…

And why? I can’t tell you. But I had to let it go and become the Dad I was before I knew my son was dying. The damned man I am and was come four years ago. A dead man.

And yet, I smile, Inspector. I have GRATITUDE. I can try and save Virgil. Tell him, B Emotional Virgil, Indifference…

1445 Days Without B III, Day 886 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 191 ~Virgil On Being Forgetful~

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“I don’t know. I guess we try to forget.” “I don’t wanna forget,” I remember humiliations at the Day Job, but I go. I remember having B, who loved me. I still wake up without him. I remember nice Yabbos, but there’s more. “Virgil On Being Forgetful.”

Wednesday, January 8, 2025

Meditation 191 ~Virgil On Being Forgetful~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… No, not that. An unforgivable sin? At the Day Job, I had a revelation on that one sin…

ACCEPTANCE. To accept the loss of my child, my firstborn son, Braxton Barks Bradford, B III. No! Never! That’s what led me to this week’s sin. Inspector Echo, The Question:

Why am I so down?

Effing Duh! This is the month I lost Braxton. And if the picture is correct, four years ago today was Braxton’s last vet visit before the two that would end his life. Comedy comes in threes. And talk about foreshadowing with the picture quality. Seriously…

What was I thinking? More to the point, what am I forgetting? I’m just a sucker for pain.

Once again, Inspector Echo, I’m not being negative; I’m simply stating the facts. History, Dear Inspector. It was my favorite subject in school. Next came reading.

So You Oughta Know. I swear my playlist continues to grow, and I haven’t listened to anything on Spotify this year. Yet. Anyway, history shouldn’t always be Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows. As MAGA wants it. It hurts sometimes. Learning through pain.

Inspector, I would be the smartest man alive… The Baddest Man Alive… Not that, either. But FEAR, PAIN, and RAGE. I remember those three more than anything next to B.

Only why do I continue to live the way I do if I know these three are waiting for me. Without my son’s protection… What did I do before I had Braxton in “my” universe?

“Sometimes I tell the boy old stories of courage and justice, difficult as they are to remember.” ― The Road

Step Into A World of music and books. I was a gamer, too, back in my schoolyard days as well.

But these days, it’s all dystopias and Squid Game 2. There are people of courage and conviction. And they care. I need to care to be positive. Try remembering Virgil’s name. And speaking of 2-V, he hasn’t forgotten what happened in his life before he arrived. One more reason V and I fit together… Because of past trauma. But what’s his? I wonder. And care…

Virgil’s forgetful, and if I could Be Like That… Oblivious, Indifferent, Lost… Those aren’t good things, I know. So it’s better to forget them but in exchange for what, Inspector?

That is the correct question.

Because positive is only a word. And I won’t let it become like Happy, Home, or Living. I won’t accept that. Virgil On Being Forgetful

“I don’t know. I guess we try to forget.”
“I don’t wanna forget,” Katniss, Peeta

1438 Days Without B III, Day 879 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 184 ~Virgil, Don’t B Negative~

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I’ve tried before. To not complain, be negative, or be pretty darn gross. Good luck with the third. But if I’m not posting, seeing a priority, or paid message, I’m not talking to OF. But how about myself, my son, or Virgil? “Virgil, Don’t B Negative”

Wednesday, January 1, 2025

Meditation 184 ~Virgil, Don’t B Negative~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Oh! And Happy New Year!!! My sin today, Inspector. I won’t be myself. I’ll be someone brand new…

Because I escaped the holiday season without hearing “All I Want for Christmas Is You” in its entirety. Mind you, the first song that came to mind was “The Hardest Button to Button,” Which, as I read now, is about a child in a dysfunctional family with a new baby.

And here I thought it was a message from my Braxton to button up negativity. Or keeping my pants buttoned… I’m glad I didn’t give in last night, Dearest Inspector. It’s been a constant battle, but I’m holding on today.

Speaking of which, the first b$$bs, Yabbos, Copious Cleavage, Titanic Tatas, Supersized Slobberknockers, Majestic Mammaries, and Humongous Headlights! I saw this morning… More like imagined were Cherry’s. And I didn’t break. But this morning’s blessing…

I was able to get out of bed to talk.

But I’m talking to you, give or take a few whispered epitaphs after picking Cherry. Inspector, I couldn’t do anything since New Year’s Eve isn’t too kind on fur buddies. Virgil spent the night pacing before he lay beside me. Can’t say something nice… Right?

But books can. They fill the silence with their stories and characters. And to fill the silence, I’ve tuned into Succubus Lord 3, my friend. I’ll admit it’s a lot more difficult not to say anything sarcastic, saddening, or spicy. Didn’t I talk about Cherry as she told me about the essay she’s written? As I thought of her lovely…

Books? Right? “It Can’t Happen Here” will be my first read of the new year. Plus, I’ve been moving even more into the dystopian genre, dearest Inspector. Laws beating libido…

Because of Trump on Monday, January 20, 2025. Again, today is not one for negativity. So what about Friday, January 31, 2025? A day to honor and remember my Braxton.

Blessed are those who mourn… More like, blessed are those that don’t need the big bucks because I will not be going to the day job then or the next. Oh, Braxton, Lift Me Up…

But I should be doing that for him. I should be doing it for myself. I did it today. That is why we’re talking across the table. And what happens afterward? Braxton and his music.

“You’ve got to put one foot in front of the other. Put your other foot down, down, down.” And not worry… Virgil, Don’t B Negative

1431 Days Without B III, Day 872 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 177 ~We’ll B Merry Virgil~

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I know how to ruin a holiday. I am my father’s son. And all it took was a message to come *home*. Like my son B, we have peculiar ideas about home. Safe in our warm beds not somewhere over the rainbow or a white Christmas. “We’ll B Merry Virgil”

Wednesday, December 25, 2024

Meditation 177 ~We’ll B Merry Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Oh! And Merry Christmas… But what do I know, seeing as today is the 23rd… 24th, Inspector Echo?

But Gee Whiz, It’s Christmas. So why am I like this today? It’s like I’m my Old Man having to apologize for yelling on Christmas Day. One of the few times he ever did, Echo.

Usually, he would get my Ma to do it. And speaking of my Olds, that’s part of the reason we’re talking this evening. I don’t know what I dread more: getting a call to come home or not. As I lack any other opportunities, I would rather stay here starving.

Inspector, sigh, bed is where I want to be. And you know I can go without food for a bit. And while I won’t discuss what I got for Christmas, there are always my comparisons. Wednesday’s Family vs. Thursday’s Hell.

Better known as having a Day Job. Hey, sometimes I get paid early. As if it matters. Do you see a tree or stockings here? I didn’t even spring for one of those candles that smells like cookies. My Ma regretted that decision one Christmas Eve, my dear Inspector Echo.

The Olds will provide… If I’m not becoming my Old Man. Then you can call me Scrooge, Inspector. And yes, I know this is sad for me and for what Braxton wants for me and his little brother. Braxton’s Aunt, M Anime, Cherry, my Ma, my younger sister, and even my nephews. His heart grew three sizes that day, THEY say. This Grinch, Santa Claus…

Inspector, I didn’t ask Santa to mend my broken heart, the one that shattered when I lost my little Braxton.

I didn’t ask for a lot of things. And if you asked me yesterday… The 23rd. What did I want most of all? I’ll admit I would have been at a loss. But Thursday, December 24, 2024, at 2:44 PM, well… I want to join my son, as I told Dear Future Wife. Braxton’s Life… Inspector, the desire to have my son back never goes away. Then there’s the people!

Inspector, I swear I only wanted to go to the bank, pet store, and, sadly, the gas station so I might acquiesce to my father’s wishes. Unless Santa takes me in my sleep. The North Pole, Ninth Circle, Home… Same difference. Because being merry this week… Christmas Day. Not very bright… We’ll B Merry Virgil

1424 Days Without B III, Day 865 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 170 ~There’ll B Suffering B~

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I don’t think I ever told Braxton he was dying. Just that I love him. I never promised Virgil a happy life. And how many women have I ghosted on OnlyFans? What? I ain’t got no money! Only hurting myself or somebody’s pockets. “There’ll B Suffering B”

Wednesday, December 18, 2024

Meditation 170 ~There’ll B Suffering B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And no, I’m not talking about sending explicit pics on OnlyFans. Eww! But we’ll get to that soon.

Today, you know what grinds my gears? PAIN. I’m in a little less PAIN than I was yesterday. And tomorrow? You know me, Inspector. Every time I fall asleep, my Christmas wish is I don’t have to wake up. I should work on my Christmas List on Saturday or Tuesday. If I can remember to do so. All I’m trying to remember now are the days without PAIN. And in Part II, Chapter IX, the place where Winston Smith and Julia are finally captured? Eff!

Gird Your Loins! Better yet, keep them in your pants. These days will be painful.

Inspector, nothing is as painful as losing Braxton. Or leaving Virgil alone wherever he is. Braxton’s gone, and I’m sure Virgil has his own aches and pains. I apologize, Inspector.

Only I’ll be doing that always and forever. When it comes to my boys. Sons? “As long as I’m alive, I’ll be carrying your name,” Braxton. That makes me more of a jerk, doesn’t it?

The whole “I don’t want to wake up on my own anymore.” But who could ever love me, Inspector? Well, besides Braxton. Inspector, I’m not going down the loneliness track.

Today, I was only thinking about men being alone… Not like that Echo. There’s Yabbos

Do you remember, girl? Michael Jackson, ha-ha! Anyway, I was compiling a list of men who were all imprisoned and ended up alone from different movies and shows, my dear.

  1. Joe Stevens
  2. Bingham Madsen
  3. #000000014
  4. Clarence
  5. Bernard Marx
  6. Savage a.k.a. John
  7. Winston Smith
  8. Jeffrey (A Different Alchemy)

All these men had families or at least women they left alone. They were all imprisoned in one way or another. Three of them passed… Crucifixion, Hanging, Gunshot. You get bonus points if you can tell me who. Anyway, I thought of what I said to Dear Future Wife yesterday about how I’m a sadist. And yet, in the end, I admire the masochist Echo.

I’m a mothereffin’ starboy. I’m more like a Switch. Happy Go Lucky Me. I’ll get off on people’s PAIN easily, but then there’s my PAIN. B III and 2 V are too much. And after…

I should add my voice to the choir. Sins, Screams, Silence… There’ll B Suffering B

1417 Days Without B III, Day 858 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 163 ~Braxton’s No Chef Virgil~

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I’ve led Virgil to food and water, but he’s not sick… Um, maybe in the head because he wants to eat on a pillow. And where do I take my meals? In bed? But the last good one was on the couch eating Chinese with Braxton’s Aunt. Braxton’s No Chef Virgil

Wednesday, December 11, 2024

Meditation 163 ~Braxton’s No Chef Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… I am currently starring in Mommie Dearest or Daddy Dude. Not that I’ve published a book, Inspector Echo.

I’m writing again on a drizzly Monday afternoon from bed. I can’t afford laziness.

The Day Job is calling this week. Aren’t I blessed? Shouldn’t I show some GRATITUDE?

When was it again that those two young brothers got fired? A week or so ago. How could I forget? I’ll tell you how. I’m reeling over the five dollars I paid on Onlyfans. Wasted!

Inspector Echo, I have to say so. Considering that I’ve now failed five out of six Impossible Things. And yes, it’s only Monday, December 9, 2024. Um, Brave New World?

I’m still reading Aldous Huxley’s novel. If memory serves, SPOILER ALERT: we’re getting to that part where Bernard Marx introduces John to his father. It saves Bernard from the DHC.

Yes, Inspector, I’ve read the story before. When my father turned me on to Animal Farm and 1984. And I wish I could say that I’m spending all my cash on books and that’s why…

GASP! I’m not eating. Feed your head, as the song goes. And before “your” madness… I’ve got around five thousand in the bank. I got another grand over PayPal way…

President EWW Donald Trump won’t be helping me. But let’s talk about here and now. As always, I want my son back. Money won’t bring Braxton back from the dead. I’d like a medium-rare steak for dinner tonight. But Hank Hill don’t pay my bills, Inspector. I want Satan’s Sorority Girls 8. But what’s most important. Virgil is not eating!

I’ve been here before, haven’t I? Inspector, if I went to Braxton’s Room/My Library/Virgil’s Room and pushed his pillow in front of the food and water… Yes, Virgil would eat. And I don’t know why. But I refuse. Virgil’s been in the room all day, Inspector.

Several times, I have guided him to the bowls, and what’s that saying… You can lead a horse to water or a dog. Do I need to be paying his vet bills when, again, I have nothing but a boy with a full bowl while I subsist on sixty-second pasta and shredded chicken for fajitas?

Virgil will eat his treats, and I swear Braxton was spoiled until the very end. What will it take, Daddy Dude? Braxton’s No Chef Virgil

“You pays your money and you takes your choice” ― Brave New World, Aldous Huxley

1410 Days Without B III, Day 851 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 159 ~Braxton Is History Virgil~

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I’ve been watching 1984 Lore and reading Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World. Amazon is telling me it’s my history to read Christmas Erotica. Did you see our next president? Braxton isn’t here to help me survive this next term. Braxton Is History Virgil.

Saturday, December 7, 2024

Meditation 159 ~Braxton Is History Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Does that mean I’m becoming more like MAGA? When I’m down, I think of my Braxton.

I’ve had my share of struggles, including moments of self-harm, largely influenced by my father. But the most intense period of me existing was when Braxton ‘passed away.’ The desire to leave because of my father was in stark contrast to the need to stay for my son. It’s ironic.

Stupidity? At the end of the day, I’m better than MAGA. Do you know why? I know my history. And yes, sometimes it sucked. Some parts make me sick. And yes, sometimes I was the skeevy one… Do you remember why I even started this blog? To share? My madness…

Lunalesca, if I recall, I was mad at some skinny brunette or trying to get her pants, whatever. It’s history. And that’s what I’ve been doing lately, studying history. Before…

The United States of America is history. Yes, I know what today is, Pearl Harbor. But more to the point, I’ve been reviewing the book, 1984. My father got me to read that, Lady Lu.

So it wasn’t all bad? The past. You wouldn’t know that from history. We’re not allowed to celebrate the triumphs that came from the tragedies. It’s like everything was perfect as long as a group of people lived in perpetual turmoil and terror of another group of people, Lunalesca. And it’s like one of my history teachers would spout relentlessly:

“History is Written by the Victors.” ― Winston Churchill? Unknown

And I always wanted to say history is written by the survivors, the breathing Lunalesca. Somehow. Someway, the truth would get out. And now I see it torn apart, Lunalesca.

History is written by the sword. It’s just another way of saying by the victor. And maybe that’s what my dream meant last night. I saw Zorro fighting Captain Love. But I couldn’t see their swords. They went back and forth, swinging their hands to and fro. But for not.

So what was the dream telling me? It was set in the past, and there was no way to move on to the future except to run the enemy through. Run away, escape. Or run into the enemy, and then what? End up with my hand in a jar. My head in another. Being history.

Only after I tell Braxton’s story. Braxton passed. Virgil’s present. And my future… I’m the victor. Braxton Is History Virgil

1406 Days Without B III, Day 847 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 156 ~Let’s B Edgy Virgil~

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Livin’ on the Edge, Livin’ on a Prayer, living for the love of you. I feel like I’m toppling over. “NaNoWriMo” ended, and I barely won that. Everything feels like it’s overflowing. And all that edging before breaking on the 1st. “Let’s B Edgy Virgil”

Wednesday, December 4, 2024

Meditation 156 ~Let’s B Edgy Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… What else is new? Um, pushing Virgil to the edge of the bed. That’s the big one. Right?

Considering how cold it’s been. Then, one of the neighbor’s kids said they were worried about Virgil. And did I forget to buy another dose of medication? Uh, the money…

That was never a question when Braxton was around. I still remember when Braxton got sick. And the one vet at Banfield I openly “disliked” saved him. And the way the guy looked at me… When I tried to take my own life by starvation and dehydration, my Old Man didn’t want to pay my medical bills either. But Braxton is innocent. So is Virgil.

And while I wouldn’t give Virgil up for anything, the thought of what if I had left him on the other side of that fence? The edge of freedom or what, Inspector Echo? It’s a fear that haunts me now.

When Virgil has tried to cuddle these past few mornings, I’ve pushed him away. Really! I’ve gone so far as to move a pillow between him and me as I read or waste time, Inspector.

Virgil hasn’t fallen. And the drop wouldn’t hurt him. Contrary to popular belief. Virgil runs around here. He jumps up and down. V can climb stairs. He barks, cries, dreams…

Probably about someone much better than me. I know. I wish I had fallen into a grave when my feet hit the floor. Didn’t I talk about having a dream about dead men last week? Maybe. All I know is today, I woke up to the sound of Johnny Cash’s Ain’t No Grave. My Braxton.

What you needed to hear…

“Do you wish to be the son who gives his father what he asks for or what he needs?” Legion

When did I get all religious? It’s that time of the year. Or am I upset that some blonde temptress broke me the day after No Nut November? Inspector, I’ve gone from nurses to dancers and gymnasts. I gave $10.00 to a “secretary” on Onlyfans. And now nuns and angels. Talk about being on the edge. Or flashing my “package,” and why. The edge, huh.

Willy’s Wanton Writings And Whacking

Madness. I’m on the edge of finishing “my” novel. I give myself far too much credit with NaNoWriMo being over. But I won for the first time in years. I’m on the edge of finishing another book. I’m upset that I’ve broken my Christmas tradition. You see today’s date, Echo. I’m existing on the edge. Still, Let’s B Edgy Virgil.

1403 Days Without B III, Day 844 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 152 ~Virgil, Let’s B Friends~

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How to Win Friends & Influence People this is not. I was more of a How to Stop Worrying and Start Living type of person. And am I doing any of that? Well, Braxton’s honorary aunt is visiting today. Hey Virgil, pick up a broom. Virgil, Let’s B Friends

Saturday, November 30, 2024

Meditation 152 ~Virgil, Let’s B Friends~

Hey Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… And how many times have I said it, “I’m an equal opportunity misanthropist,” But Lady Lunalesca…

You know, in REALITY, I hate myself. Or at least I’m not feeling very good about myself right now. There is so much to do and so little time. The effing battle cry that took Braxton away. I was too busy with “spears and shields” and “prepare for battle,” Lunalesca.

Lunalesca, in anything and everything I would do, B III would be right here. Indifferent, he was not. We were brothers in arms forged in fear of my father, in finding reasons to keep fighting the world and effing Yabbos. But how did Braxton and I find each other? I found him in the “Maker’s Hand.” He found me when he was long forgotten, Lu.

How to Win Friends & Influence People, indeed Lady Lunalesca.

I can’t believe I thought I read that. And speaking of my disappointment when it comes to books… Today, I’m going to fail to finish a book for tomorrow. Well, yes and no. I intend on winning NaNoWriMo. It’s the last day. But I won’t finish reading a book on loss. Or begin reading a book about the dystopia we’re about to live in. Seriously…

MSNBC ain’t no friend of mine. Morning Joe… Joe and Mika. Oh, and the stripper likes me too. Or what about God’s Favorite Princess, Women from the WWE, OnlyFans girls, models, girls from H anime, and those artists I pay for their AI creations? And how about the creations themselves? Where are my real friends? Like Virgil? Lunalesca, I’m me.

And “me” is about to host Braxton’s honorary aunt, and everything is still a meshiver. Mooning away at Cherry’s Yabbos isn’t helping. And I didn’t even wish M Anime a Happy Thanksgiving. And writing a tale worse than a Bukkake scene doesn’t win friends, Lunalesca.

I’m surprised Cherry is still talking to me. M Anime knows I’m writing. And I met Braxton’s honorary aunt through my writing. All my friends of the female persuasion, ha.

So is writing my wingman? It’s a Scrub, and Braxton was way better, though. Don’t I constantly say I didn’t get any because, like his Daddy, Braxton is/was a misanthropist.

Lunalesca, at 40, how will I make any more friends? The problem? It’s me. And yet… Virgil, Let’s B Friends.

1399 Days Without B III, Day 840 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will