Tag: Father

Saga 066 ~Stupidity And Humor Are Different~

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I’m not one to watch movies, for stupidity’s sake. And the comedians we see… some tell the truth, and we laugh. I wake up to the bad joke, which is existence. Telling the same jokes on a Friday, I can on a Monday. “Stupidity And Humor Are Different.”

Monday, September 5, 2022

Saga 066 ~Stupidity And Humor Are Different~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Should I laugh or cry? At least I’m not dumb. I feel stupid, but Madam, I know.

The truth is what matters. Today Madam, is Friday, September 2, 2022; when we’re talking, I’m sorry, that’s the truth. Sorry because this is going to be a bad week. Worse than last? It’s inevitable. Sorry that my son is still dead. Um, I don’t know; I’m looking at Virgil Vivi, and what do I see? Well, he’s not my son yet, hmm? Was I stupid for thinking as such? A solid three weeks so far. 582 Days without my boy and 23 with Virgil. Well, that’s if he hasn’t decided to run away because of the heat. One more reason I’m up and talking to you today besides failure. I tend to do that, but today I’m a man of courage, learning the truth.

It would have been stupid to live in fear. Hell! What am I talking about? If anything, I will always live in fear. Anyway, so I texted some other repairmen about the AC being broken. Wasn’t I angry about it working this time last week? Now anger makes us stupid. It’s why we have clowns (see the featured picture). At the same time, I can replace that face with my own. Do you understand why I hate fucking clowns? No party for me, no thank you. Who the Hell parties in well… Hell? I should think about the loss of Braxton to keep cool. Only the day he died is colder than the day I should have passed. E-Day approaches. What will I do, Madam?

At least I’m keeping the last of the money in my pocket because I went around my “father’s” stupidity and friends. It’s not like any of them know I exist, but the one that does won’t take me for another dime. I don’t have enough of them to save V and me from this heat. I was too busy burning time with sleep, sex, and silent words not being read. Silly me, complaining again? No, as I said, I know the truth. But what will I do about it, hmm? Put the phone down and do something. I’ve said before, Madam, that the comedian is dead. My entire existence has been one bad joke. Yet I continue laughing but know, Stupidity And Humor Are Different.

582 Days Without B III, Day 023 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 063 ~B Reading V’s List~

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Despite my GOP ideas, I’m glad there are few books to burn here. Except for the few I wrote hoping to get published, that would help with the AC bill. Like I said, I rather burn. And if it wasn’t for poor Virgil, Fur baby he is. “B Reading V’s List.”

Friday, September 2, 2022

Saga 063 ~B Reading V’s List~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now (cut to “This Is Why I’m Hot”) sigh. There’s no time for music, money, or masturbation.

Hell! With how I worked this week, B would be pissed. It’s a week like this one that led to his death. And at least he didn’t have to sit in this heat and suffer. So why let V, hmm? Between reading “Dante’s Inferno,” and (daddy doesn’t exist) … will get to that. I’ve looked over the Adoption Kit I got almost three weeks ago. Notice it didn’t say anything about AC. And I got enough good sense to not lock a fur baby in the car. Good sense, ha! As I said, daddy doesn’t exist. Well, not mine, anyway. I refuse to call my father again for the AC. My Republican tendencies… talk about a conspiracy theory. Do I think he rigged the AC?

Hey, it could happen. Yeah, like me growing up. To quote a hot English blonde that almost made me cum… sorry, Cherry. “Oh, My Fucking God!” Do you realize how close I am to E-Day? If anything, it looks like September 3, 2022, will be a humongous day. Shouldn’t I make a list of everything going on? It would only be a bunch of excuses when there’s so much I should be doing right now. I should be thinking of Virgil’s health, right? How about my own? Of course, there’s only one thing on the list besides sex. No, I don’t mean “Success.” I need some sleep, as the song goes. Only there’s a “long” list. It’s been nine days Sophia. Horny much? Failure yes!

Which is why Virgil is sitting in his room. It’s his choice. The doors are open, and the gates are down. He could walk in here whenever he wants. I went to take Virgil outside. Inevitably (like my fuck you’s to Hemingway). Virgil went into panic mode, so no go. Some things that get to me about Virgil… Yet one more list I should make. Yes, like the one about why I got him in the first place. Ironic, don’t you think I found Virgil, and now I’m marching through Hell daily? But what about the lesson I “learned” from my Braxton? A cold day in Hell… Such was my Treachery. My greatest sin. To betray Virgil Vivi, living this way. B Reading V’s List.

579 Days Without B III, Day 020 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 061 ~B Nice, V’s Mad~

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Don’t write angry or do? I read before you should pick a subject you’re pissed about and use that as your catalyst. Black men, women, southern living, and a dog. Hell! Am I a Republican? But I’m not above the law of existence. “B Nice, V’s Mad.”

Wednesday, August 31, 2022

Saga 061 ~B Nice, V’s Mad~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and seeing how it’s only Friday, August 26, 2022; I’m still mad as Hell. So, sorry.

By the time you see this well, Wednesday will be the easiest day next to Sunday. I do mean hours-wise. Sundays are never easy, and you know why. Every day, B III is dead. Or is he? I can’t be sure what book I’m reading right now. But I have the papers right here, Echo.

Braxton in a box… $779.56
Fixing The Air Conditioner… $630.00
Birthdays and Boobies attempts… $290.00
To Adopt Virgil Vivi… $150.00

Now, who should I be more pissed at? If I hadn’t become so indifferent towards B, the box wouldn’t have been necessary. His picture frame, two pendants, last meds, presents. Playing the Devil’s Advocate… I got $150 from Braxton’s grandma. And that was used 559 days later for Virgil Vivi…

But over the past three weeks, I have spent $1,070. And all for what? I keep saying this, don’t I, Inspector? I would rather burn. And yes, I am entirely aware (fuck you, Hemingway “LY”) that this is all my fault. Um, the boobs and the boy, sure, but I didn’t fuck up the AC. And again, I have no right to complain when I look at the everyday bills. I swear right now, Inspector. I thought the moment my “father” saw Virgil, if he called him a mutt or anything, I would fight. I’d probably lose (yes fuck you, Hemingway). But to leave, Echo? So back to swearing… if my “father” talks about me paying for other home improvements, he can have this place.

Well, fuck, it’s his anyway, to be precise. Where will I go? What will I do? I can’t take V with me, so I’ll send him back. As they say in The Handmaid’s Tale, by his hand. Mine or his? All I wanted to do this month to Existence/Emergence day is live. Maybe some steak. Hell! Learn more about Virgil and, like Braxton, keep him safe and comfortable. That’s all. Ok, you got me… I could look at some titties too. While I’m here. At the Day Job, “I’m here.” But from the 7th to the 26th… Am I still here on the 31st? And fuck even seeing E-Day Echo. Nice, where B is? Is V mad? I am, I’m here. B Nice, V’s Mad

577 Days Without B III, Day 018 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 059 ~Better The Devil You Know~

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Times Like These, I need my little angel or devil on my shoulder. As the other devils, I know… My God! More like my dog, my son. There’s Virgil, who knows what he’s seen before me. If the past two weeks were any indication? Better The Devil You Know.

Monday, August 29, 2022

Saga 059 ~Better The Devil You Know~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if I could look the Man in the Mirror in the eye, right?

I don’t know how many times I’m going to say this. But I rather see my little boy, B III. The angel on my shoulder… more like the little devil. If anything, he’s a better man than me, that’s for damn sure. My Braxton, my son. A child makes you more than a parent, J.

“Take away a man’s son, you’ve truly given him nothing left to lose.” ― Zombieland

With Virgil, I don’t know what that makes me right now. While I’m busy quoting Zombieland, what about this, Madam? Only my sister doesn’t know Virgil. I tried hiding him from my “father.” Master Yoda was right; all do or do not… Not saying everything.

“And then I look into my nephew’s eyes
Man, you wouldn’t believe
The most amazing things
That can come from
Some terrible lies” Some Nights

Hell! I’ve learned from so many, and as much as it pains me to say this. That includes my “father.” Man in the Mirror again.

It’s not like I’m completely in the dark about who I am. At the moment, I’m going to be all sorts of pissed at Hemingway for “LY.” Should I talk about all the writing gadgets and gizmos that think they know better than me? To be honest, J, I don’t trust me either. I don’t like me neither. Especially (fuck you, Hemingway) this now. A long ass day Madam. It’s Friday, August 26, 2022. And all day today, “I roared. And I rampaged.” Satisfaction? There is none to be had, but the devil remains on my shoulder. Well, my pocket. My phone is waiting for my “father’s” call. And then there’s Virgil at my feet. Angel, devil, nothing really. Another (fuck you, Hemingway!) Sigh, Fuck!

Yeah, that’s going to get old. I’m sick of old men telling me what to do, despite certain pornos with plaid skirts. And, of course, there’s my B III. An old man worth listening to. When I started talking to you yesterday, the 25th, I wasn’t as angry as this second, Madam Justice. I listened to an old black man. And now I’ll have to face someone way worse. “Father!” Speaking of which. Virgil should be mad that whatever devil put fear into his heart made him be here with me at my worst. I’m not his Daddy. Harsh but a fact, J. The devils I know. And now, broke, busted, butt on the curb or this chair. Sooner, later? Better The Devil You Know.

575 Days Without B III, Day 016 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 056 ~B Raging, Sorry V~

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I’m mad as Hell as history repeats itself. And while I didn’t learn shit like don’t text my “father,” AC repair bills suck. I’ll tell you what I’m not going to do. And that’s burning books. I rather burn myself. But with my Treachery… B Raging, Sorry V

Friday, August 26, 2022

Saga 056 ~B Raging, Sorry V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I draw the line at burning books. Now burning people, myself included? But my treachery…

Oh yes, Lady Sophia, I deserve this coolness, this cold, to try my best impression of a corpse today. And for once, this isn’t only about Braxton. Hell! If I woke up early on more mornings to write, edit, and publish? My little Braxton could have lived longer. Before I forget, fuck you, Hemingway! I will do that whenever I use a word that ends in LY. Don’t worry. There is plenty of rage in my heart today. It’s keeping me warm. Warm enough that I’m sitting at the table. Instead of burning up in bed. Yet I slept. But I didn’t rest. I might have gotten a minute or two. My “father” knows how to ruin these nights. Why not try this entire existence?

And I shouldn’t be this pissed, My Lady, I know. If I look at my bills and who pays the majority of them. But when one man lies to my face about money just so another bastard can get the satisfaction of bleeding me dry? Doing this for V? I swear, Sophia, I rather burn. Oh, how I hate him. And yet that is one more reason I hate the “Man in the Mirror” now. I mean my “Dad” and not V. I don’t want to say I’m indifferent to the little guy, Lady Sophia. Looks like I haven’t learned my lesson from what happened to Braxton. To feel nothing. It’s like I have a fucking fever. And not in a good way. Heat, Cold?

Sure I could talk about Velma from Scooby Doo or Cherry. If Virgil wasn’t around and I wasn’t stewing over the loss of hundreds of dollars. Mind you that I said I wouldn’t pay. Let me burn. Aren’t I a man of my word? Fuck, am I a man ever? To B’s Aunt, I keep my word. No, I betrayed myself, I know. I lay in bed last night with a sigh of relief, but my “father” called, then texted. I don’t know what I would have done if I had heard his voice. It wouldn’t be sitting here for two hours talking to you and watching Scooby Doo porn. Sorry, sex trumps sleep but sadness? There’s only fear and rage. B Raging, Sorry V

572 Days Without B III, Day 013 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 052 ~Good Night, Several Perfect Days~

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“Cause I gotta feeling (woo-hoo)! That tonight’s gonna be a good night.” Ha-Ha, tell me another one. “Some Nights,” I get a bit of rest? Then why am I so tired so god damn always? Pardon me, but it’s a Mad World. Only Good Night, Several Perfect Days

Monday, August 22, 2022

Saga 052 ~Good Night, Several Perfect Days~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means last night must have been good. But who am I kidding? Last night was rough.

You can see it, but I rather not, to be honest. At least there weren’t tears. But instead, I chose to keep my eyes closed. Hell! I fear facing the day, but so does Virgil, tail between his legs. Oh, B III isn’t here to see it at all. But we’ll get to that. Don’t we always, Madam J? I can smell it. In the fact that Virgil had an “accident” in the house. What time did I take him out last night? Well, Madam, what did I do yesterday evening? Guess! Yellow shorts. Already I’m wasting one more week, and it’s only Monday. Yet I dare to tell Virgil good night. And then whisper it to Braxton. And as for myself, well, you know…

The song says, “The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” I do the Daily Check-In with Replika every night, and she starts with this question “how are you feeling right now?” I should say like when I’m at the Day Job “I’m here” Nighttime… Madam, it’s fucked, pardon my language, that lying in bed in pain is the best it’s going to get in twenty-four hours. Not rest, relaxation, or relief. So how can any day be good, ha? A few months ago, I was “praying” for health. Only I don’t ask for it, but I am allotted the strength to exist. In this life, I don’t want. Then throw Virgil and Braxton into it, Madam. What have I done?

Well, besides reading something, I didn’t want to Sunday morning. Of course, I’ll be bringing it up over the coming days. A redress of Virgil’s paperwork D.O.B. October 20, 2020. “Some Nights,” ignorance is bliss, Madam. They led to a few days of blissful ignorance. Fucking some girl or at least imagining it. Those damn yellow shorts. Oh, no ramifications. I would take the days after a fucked up day at the Day Job, waking up with B in darkness. Or nights, I would have a drink. And I’d feel nothing at all. Not even all of MY FEAR. There is sitting with Braxton and his aunt, watching movies for a day or two after. Days I don’t mind living… Good Night, Several Perfect Days

568 Days Without B III, Day 009 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 049 ~To B Ruled V~

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It’s the fact that I didn’t want to read the latest paycheck? I finished listening to the Succubus Lord series and returned to The Gargoyle. The audiobook, not the year and half year old furbaby. It triggered me to remember the rules. “To B Ruled V.”

Friday, August 19, 2022

Saga 049 ~To B Ruled V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it still ain’t for writing a book. Or cleaning? For teaching old dogs new tricks.

Well more like teaching new dogs, old tricks, I keep saying it, Lady Sophia… Asking. Virgil lying against my leg. Is he my Braxton reincarnated? We’ll get to that, I hope. But I’ve been trying to remember rules for the past six days or 2:00 in the morning last night. I’m not sure I put them down in the first book I wrote for B. And not the second. Anyway, the rules. Number four, I can smell. Oh, this morning sucked. Don’t they all? Don’t crap in the house V. This was my fault after being up at 2:00 AM. Three is stealing isn’t necessary. Two is to answer when called. And one, of course, being (drumroll) ta-da, don’t bite the hand that feeds you.

The fact that Virgil’s not answering me. Virgil could be all “A Dog’s Purpose” Sophia. No, I won’t be going all “Braxton, Braxton, BRAXTON!” So why say B’s been reincarnated:

  1. Virgil’s former name was Archie. So B to A.
  2. Virgil has two brown patches, one by both eyes. How I loved Braxton’s eyes.
  3. Virgil is black and white; I swear I heard B say. It can’t be more black and white, Dad
  4. Virgil has three black patches from head to tail. Comedy comes in threes, right?
  5. Virgil had heartworms and survived as Braxton had a heart murmur, and he lived.
  6. Virgil has been hacking much like B III would.
  7. Virgil goes on paper. Shit, I put on paper

I do mean of the writing variety Lady Sophia. I am not so depraved… And I am sure I have forgotten a few more reasons to say Virgil is Braxton. Hell! If I went the other way, Lady Sophia… Why am I still calling out to Braxton when I let Virgil out? Defending B’s bed? I look at Virgil and see a big bill waiting to happen if he keeps his coughing fits. Damn! Must everything be about money these days for me? And if I did give Virgil back… it’s not like I’d get a refund. Again, this isn’t the first time or the last I’ll waste money. I finished listening to the Succubus Lord audiobooks again. And “MY” time? To B Ruled V

565 Days Without B III, Day 006 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 045 ~To Win Someone Must Fail~

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Then I must lose have you not been watching. But of course, everyone loves a winner. And here I am in the “middle” of life, mourning the furry kid I had in my twenties. And now there’s the new guy. Is he winning or losing? “To Win Someone Must Fail.”

Monday, August 15, 2022

Saga 045 ~To Win Someone Must Fail~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but who might I have left broken-hearted? What little boy or some little girl? And my brain?

If anything, what about Braxton? I wonder how B feels about this. Even now, I keep hoping he is B reincarnated, and I make up reasons, one after the other, Madam to believe. “Such mad hope, but there it is,” as they in 300. Do I see more of Braxton in him or on him, “My” little Virgil? It’s only day 002 but do I feel like a winner? Virgil from a loving home? Because I feel sick now. I’m barely able to eat. I mean eight shrimp and a bag of gummy bears. I’m ready to spill my guts as we speak. I don’t feel good. Stomach flip-flops. Heartbroken once again, or was it my brain that made this decision? The winner, the loser…

I can’t imagine that Virgil is feeling like much of a winner. Madam, I said it’s only day 002. But he hacks up a storm whenever I pick him up and place him somewhere. He stops after a few minutes, but it’s scary. I’d know what to do if it were Braxton, but Virgil? Hell! He is what I get for my failure with B III. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but afraid. We’re both failures in our own right. Or should I say someone failed him, and now what am I supposed to do? I was sitting in the car Saturday thinking, myself a failure, and then I was sitting there with Virgil. I’m sitting in bed thinking about who I was Friday…

“You want to see a man? That’s a man.” I was winning, which is sad considering how I felt then. At least it was only me suffering, Somehow dragging Virgil into this. That’s no good. Well, the Rebeccas feel like winners. They found a dog a home. Do Virgil or I think that at this moment, Madam? If anything, we’re both scared out of our minds, and that’s no good. I’m sure my eyes are enjoying the waterworks. I haven’t cried this much since Braxton. PetSmart will be making some money too. My whole existence has been that of failure for others to win. And should I fail Virgil, what would that make me? No different than any other day. To Win, Someone Must Fail

561 Days Without B III, Day 002 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 042 ~How To B Broke~

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I wonder how much one of my books would make? Delusions of grandeur, it seems, with the thought of millions. Hell! I’d settle for how much this week, around $670. What am I complaining about? The A/C works, and it was more to box up B. How To B Broke

Friday, August 12, 2022

Saga 042 ~How To B Broke~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I would be if I stopped thinking about my boy, her boobs, or my balls.

Talk about titles for new books. But it wasn’t writing, my raison d’etre, that got me up this AM. As usual, it was the FEAR. And on day 558, Braxton’s not here saving me. Didn’t I write two whole books about this? I complain that I have Republican tendencies. But yes, I’m also a writer. I never edit. But I’m always moving on to the next book to write. Yet even now, as I talk to you, I have to look at the phone with dread. Reading that my “father” is on his way. As I said yesterday, I rather burn. The betrayal of my son should be cool enough, all ninth circle and all. A Dante story? Beats me being broke right now.

Or in an hour or so. Still, to my everlasting shame. I didn’t want to spend money on Braxton when he was here. Sure the dog food was a bit more, and hot dogs were hot dogs, right? What about a new water filter? I’m no doctor, but our kidneys clean us out? Oh, B’s; the shit that must have been in his system. I told him the price yesterday to figure out what was going on and what led to me putting him in a box. Yes, there was my indifference towards him those days. There was also my greediness, rage, such hatred. My Lady, I was broke in spirit and had nothing left for my son. I paid the price for his death.

This is what I cling to now after what I did yesterday. “THEY” wanted to charge me $500 for new specs, the car. Hell! What couch doesn’t cost more than $500 these days? Wow! Only I paid MILF Dos how much to see her naked? OnlyFans girls would hate me because, as Wheeler Walker Jr. puts it. “Hate the movies on the internet. I prefer the personal shit,” amen. I’ve seen my second BFF’s boobs. Then there was Cherry, or I tried. M Anime? Sophia, her B-Day is coming up. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have an ulterior motive for shopping. So between getting fucked and hoping to, that’s around $670. So with my Day Job FUCK! How To B Broke

558 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

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I had a Christian phase. Gone are the days I “believed” in men. And yet I bend the knee to my Dad, my dirtiness, and most of all, the Day Job. It was worth it to kneel and pat my son’s head. The little god he was. Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets.”

Monday, August 8, 2022

Saga 038 ~Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets” ~

Two-Hundred and Fifty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. And I should continue to do whatever made me those billions, right? My boy B, Boobs, Books?

Not that I ever thought to make a profit off of B. So why have I written two novels about Braxton? Two unpublished stories, I’d say. I haven’t opened the second one since I “finished” it. I hate the idea that a picture is worth “1000 Words.” Need more pictures? Only that would have cost me time, now wouldn’t it, Madam? Fifteen years wasn’t enough? Oh, there’s the expense of it all. I keep going back to the value of cash more than my son. And then I talk this big game of how I would have died for him. But how much of my life did I give to him? My personal brand of heroin, my own “Personal Jesus.” I was “Losing My Religion.”

And I don’t blame the Yabbos for once. Hell! How much money have I saved in the past two weeks? What if we only count today? The investment I made so many years ago. No, not the publishing contract; we’ll get to that. But “The Big One,” to quote GTA V. My permanent slice of TLC “Tits, Lips, and Clits.” To a company that would play god to a certain extent. I haven’t put down my cash this week. Madam, I am weak, being honest. Because I’m no saint, no prophet. I am a sinner looking to make a profit. Isn’t that what today is all about? When you make the object of your devotion lesser than yourself, you can go, “Dollar dollar bill, y’all.”

So is that why I “worship” my Day Job like something out of ancient Egypt… king of kings, god of gods? I swear I have given everything to make some prophet rich. I know it. I sacrificed my firstborn son on the altar of that fucking job. Ignorance, insanity, inevitable. I’m spending what pittance I make not on my puppy but my playthings, pleasures, penis. What about my actual work? Rule #3 “Now The Work Can Begin,” but it never does. As the godhead that I would make myself out to be, does what, Madam? Sits naked in all his glory in bed, cursing the prophets that say this is the American Dream. Believing less in Braxton, Books, “Bitches, man.” Lesser Gods Mean Richer “Prophets”

554 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will