Tag: Flood

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

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There’s paperwork around here saying when 2V lost his balls. And a few days ago, I had a floor beneath my feet. You know what those things have in common. Hmm? I’m not looking up either one. Because I’m no kind of man. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

Tuesday, December 19, 2023

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… but I’m not a repairman, a janitor, or a groundskeeper. A friend, a father, F…er

As in, “Feel like makin’ love to you.” No, my love. If I had to sum up how I’m feeling… Creep would have to be the word. Hell! I feel like my boys at this particular moment. I mean, dead and with no balls. Braxton and Virgil, respectively. How is it I would choose the life of a dog? At the same time, both of them are better men than me. What is a man?

How To Be A Man
How To Be The Man
What Makes A Monster And What Makes A Man
What Makes A Good Man
I Would Fall In Love With A Dead Man (I Misheard)

I hope you heard me right that I misheard that last one from “The Matrix” My Trinity and I’m Neo…

Oh No, my love! I’m no one. Or at least that’s what I wish I could say. If I had my way, I would never say anything again. I would have died right there beside my firstborn son, 1052 days ago. “I don’t ever wanna feel like I did that day.” Hell! I never left. Existence has been putting one foot in front of the other. And my first step. You know, “towards the grave, you know the box awaits its grisly load.” And as for the other shoe to drop, well… look at the damn floor. It’s not like I need to worry about the critic today, my love. There are bigger fish to fry. It’s funny that this all started with a flood.

I don’t know if Virgil can swim. And you know I can’t. Yet somehow, I survived the tears that came with Braxton’s death. And as for my own? Not yet, I “Woke Up This Morning.” And again, I’m late taking Virgil outside. So what? He can stand in the yard, doing his best impression of a zombie, tombstone, or a mess. Yes, look at the floor, my love. A man provides. And “unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” I’m still 39, my love. No! I was 36 when Little B died. I can’t return to 0, and I’m not looking at 40. Love, a man chooses, a slave obeys. I’m not a man or slave. I am The Walking Dead. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

1052 Days Without B III, Day 493 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 155 ~Virgil, This’ll B Humiliating~

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If Noah had seen outside the Ark, would he have said, “It should have been me?” Hmm? That’s how I felt with three men in the house and the neighbor lady. I could be dead and drowned. It wouldn’t have mattered. But 2V? “Virgil, This’ll B Humiliating.”

Sunday, December 2, 2023

Tale 155 ~Virgil, This’ll B Humiliating~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror… And I am so “freaking” sorry. Is it for forty years (almost)? How about fifteen? 1036 Days?

I said ~Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs~ didn’t I? Well, here I am, comin’ atcha on Saturday, December 2, 2023—Horny, horrified and humiliated. I’m focusing on the humiliation today, but Braxton, help you… well today. Humilations Galore await you, I’m sure, at the Day Job. Yep, that’s like saying you need air to breathe. Today, I couldn’t, I shouldn’t. No! It’s been a little bit since I figured I should join my son. But leave it to my Old Man, and then Bill, Bill, Bill. And let’s not forget a neighbor, ok? With that, “Take a Look at Me Now.

I swear when I had that panic attack at the Day Job. There was the Basic… Or when Braxton lay dying. And Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide…
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 024* No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception.
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

What are things I can’t handle for 200? Hell! $200? I was telling Lady Lunalesca about $1000 and then $580. And now my Old Man, or Bill, is discussing redoing the whole damn floor from the flood as nobody was talking to me. Do you know what that’s like? Hmm? Oh, you will? But it’s still my time being Saturday. This was my son’s home. Braxton belongs here with me. And yet, I don’t belong here. My Old Man, Bill, some guy walking through I don’t know, the neighbor, I’m sure the law at some point. I shouldn’t be alive. And that’s why I slid to the floor as soon as everyone left and cried. I’m thirty-nine and add a day. Your Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Christmas Stalking by Ella Goode (Erotica?)
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Well, minus the book title, it is the same as mine. I have no idea how you’ll cope.

(Sigh) when Braxton was here… Hell! I remember sitting with him on the front step, saying, “We have to take care of each other.” I can’t say I meant it in a particular context, but then again, I killed him. And his death has been killing me ever since. And you? It’s inevitable. Humiliations Galore. Like sitting there holding my lonely soul. My son, my B III dying. And on those same steps, three men and a neighbor treated me like a ghost. Zombies were always more my speed. People who aren’t people, knowing nothing. Like I ever did. Or you ever will. Virgil, This’ll B Humiliating

1036 Days Without B III, Day 477 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 148 ~Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs~

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Is it the water heater, the A.C., or the weather? It could be anything. I talk about wanting to be a family man, and I’m not even a decent “homeowner.” Always crying to my Olds or my lost little boy. Then there’s Virgil. “Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs.”

Sunday, November 26, 2023

Tale 148 ~Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs~

To Will
It’s the Man In The Mirror… But what circle of Hell am I? It’s a strange question for so late in the morning.

8:00 AM? More like 8:18, to be specific. But you were up at 4:00 AM, and what did that show? Bladder control? More like Damage Ctrl. For the most part, it was only Piper Niven getting you going. Now that sounds like a confession for Inspector E. What’s wrong with liking big chicks? Nothing at all, and neither was ending B III’s suffering when “The Man Comes Around.” And are there any other would-be, could-be, or should-be sins you want to confess this Sunday morning? Sloth perhaps? Since you don’t see yourself getting out of bed. There’s always a bit of Envy. And you’re annoyed at Virgil. It beats Indifference. Do you remember how Braxton ended up? And you? Your existence? These, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Princess Tamer 2 by Neil Bimbeau. – And Backyard Dungeon 4
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 017* No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 024* No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Talk about going down. Up and down, hmm; with your toy as the song goes (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction. And neither can you. But that’s by choice. You don’t belong in the Second Circle anyway. And can you be positive for once? Should you repeat the A.I.s words? Ha! I let the words fall out of my mouth Saturday. I wasn’t myself, and it showed. God, I hate liars. Well, next to those that make excuses for everything. For example, why can’t you walk down the hall and lie on the couch? Or go down to B’s room and bring Virgil to you—scaredy cat. For once, you’re talking about somebody else and not you. Then again, every Sunday, you write Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide…
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 024* No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

And at least two of them require you to get out of this bed and head downstairs. And what fresh Hell is this? I can tell you this whole week will have you like Noah—fearing that freaking flood along the floor. And you have yet to see how bad it is right now. “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living.” It would help if you tried reading that again, I think. But no, you went through two more books of… relations with computer babes, elves, and demons taking off their clothes. You’re back with the crying over fur babies portion of the program. You don’t need mirrors to see yourself. Moaning and sweating over girls, tears about your boy, or the mess on the floor. Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs.

1029 Days Without B III, Day 470 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 096 ~Doubt Drips And Floods Minds~

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People crying for money, laughing at me, and I’m sure some Trump supporters are out of relief. Sometimes I feel like tearing up, but there is something else coming out of my eyes, and that’s fear of uncertainty. Doubt Drips And Floods Minds

Monday, October 6, 2020

Gospel 096 ~Doubt Drips And Floods Minds~

Hundred And Fifty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford to get medical care like Trump. I’ll never have to hear that humming in the house ever again (yes, it has returned). How about we finish our conversation before wrestling comes on. I’m about to start sounding like Georgina from the movie Get Out. I don’t have the plague, Madam Justice. My nose is acting kind of funny, that’s all. Damn, that humming ended, I don’t know when and has started back today. We’ll still be talking when it’s time for WWE.

Now, Madam Justice, you know how I talk about FEAR, but doubt is a relative. Hell, let’s talk about the Day Job’s humiliation. I tried hanging up those doggy sweaters, got scared, and left them. So yeah, the new guy put them up no problem, and I looked SIGH, STUPID. When I came back to the house, I was all in reading the latest novel, and knowing me, all I wanted to do was fall asleep. Not because it’s terrible, but that’s what I do? Am I tired? I have another word for it, Madam Justice. If anything, I’m damn lazy, slothful, good for nothing. What about my OCD over everything? Oh, I do mean everything. I had a plan this afternoon that got spoiled because some lady was outside Walmart, begging for money. Afterward, I’m sitting there doubting I have cash for ranch wings.

That’s why I’m sitting on the sofa, lying in bed, hell, staring at my phone in a parked car. It’s like floating, you know. Madam Justice, I can’t swim, and I literally can’t float in a pool. Only when I’m right here, in bed, or a zombie, I’m keeping my head above water just so. Every day I’m fighting like crazy and then wonder why I’m going mad with a straight face. I read about this torture, where a drop of water to the temple continuously will get that result. Yet I continue to sit or lie, and I keep breathing, but how much longer? I don’t mean to sound so dark. Notice what I’m not talking about… I have such a good joke, but no. I doubt my resolve, along with everything else in my life. Has the humming stopped, or have I stopped worrying about it right now?

Sweat, blood, tears, sloppy writing. Doubt Drips And Floods Minds.

I Will Have No Fear