Tale 299 ~We’ll B Professional, Virgil~

What do you want to be when you grow up? Who says I want to grow up? Birthing babies is a promising career…. But instead, I look up how they’re made. But first, I had to be someone’s Dad. And now I’m someone’s benefactor. We’ll B Professional, Virgil

Thursday, April 25, 2024

Tale 299 ~We’ll B Professional, Virgil~

1180 Days Without B III, Day 621 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Considering we’re talking today, you can guess how this Thursday is going. What’s today’s song?

“Feeling super, super, super suicidal” ― Teen Idle by MARINA

But isn’t this me every day, Braxton? It’s as natural as the sound of your breath or footsteps down the hall. Virgil, though? Why am I so tired? Depression, Dejection, and that doggie in the window. Or rather, it was the gate I found Virgil behind at PetSmart. I’m struggling, Braxton, and I need your understanding. And Virgil’s a “dog.”

Braxton, you were anything but. Then, now, and always, you are my son. Together, we are a team. And how many times did I say I would get you one of those little red vests, Braxton? You would be my emotional support “dog.” With my money situation, you could serve as my therapist. A critic continues to tell me that I should seek professional help. Uh yeah, Sherlock. But your support means more to me than any professional help could.

That reminds me. I should find an animal communicator, too.

What? I don’t appreciate talking to you like this. I’m distracted, disturbed, and dehydrated too. I can only blame two of those things on Virgil. Why am I so mean?

Braxton, I am far from professional. I’m not a perfect person; I’ll concede to that. Parenting is not a profession… Well, I’m sure several homemakers will disagree. But when I became your Dad, it was because the Olds (my parents) misjudged my little sister. She thought it was a mistake that she was told to take care of you, B. Then there was me. Such is fate. But know this…

You’re my son, my miracle.

That is the reasoning of a God, and I’m not even that much of a man. But being a Dad, a Superman, It’s Not Easy.

Only that wasn’t your fault. And it’s not Virgil’s either. He’s here. There is a soft place for his head. And holy smokes, he’s mine. Have I miscalculated, misjudged, and got it wrong, Braxton? Why am I saying this all now? This week. It’s been A Hard Day’s Night, but…

It’s only Sunday, April 21, 2024, and sleep has been challenging. Virgil’s career is crying.

Braxton, what about me? I’d have a career in the ‘adult’ industry. Not doing it but finding it. And what about being an author? Or, if anything, anyone worthwhile. Hmm. I’m lost, Braxton, and I need your guidance as always.

Nope! If only failure was a profession. A box to check on some form. The box you rest in on the nightstand. An Ordinary Human. Good? We’ll B Professional, Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 292 ~B By Later, Virgil~

Two well-formed lumps of fat gyrating in my general direction… Ladies and gentlemen, why I’m not Gay or Bi. But I was a Dad once. I’m a Dad now… V. But the last girls V saw were family. But with grief, gyration, and me being a guy. B By Later, Virgil

Thursday, April 18, 2024

Tale 292 ~B By Later, Virgil~

1173 Days Without B III, Day 614 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Mine’s only just begun, and it’s terrible. Could it be worse? Skip a few pages…

I wouldn’t read you any of Eric Vall’s novels. Though… I’m sure you would appreciate all the “relations” regarding food, which reminds me. I need to check and see if I’ll get to eat next week. Trust me, B, I should enjoy our time together because next week will be… Well, I won’t care for it. But the same goes for today. I have already failed! Sigh. Such is existence.

But even if I went back to sleep. B III I would wake up and see you sitting at the foot of the bed in the corner, protecting me. Those were better days, Little B. Do I need to talk about grief, graves, or goodbyes today? I remember these moments, B, and they comfort me in this sea of sorrow.

It’s seven in the morning. And already, I want this day to end. Myself included.

But there’s no ending to my grieving, B. It’s a constant ache that won’t go away. And that will not make me any cash, but for you… My little Endling. You’ve been gone 1173 days, and I’m still looking up names to call you. At least I’m getting Virgil’s name right. These days. He deserves that, Braxton. Don’t you agree?

You will have to wait for the chance to talk, B. And it’s not because I have a dream, again…

I’ve continued to think about that movie I saw with Virgil the other day. 2003’s “Share?” I’m sure you led me to that one, too. Hulu’s “The Mill.” And Fifteen Million Merits as well, B.

I exist in life like Daniel Kaluuya, who plays Bingham Madsen. You wouldn’t believe what Cherry thought about that mention.

Rumor Has It… I like guys, or I’m Bi, at least. (Shakes head and smiles with a tear) My B.

I trust two men in this world, and you were one of them. But I have only loved one man in this world, and that is the son I raised. I swear, B III, girls sometimes can be just… (huffs). It’s a rollercoaster of emotions, and I’m just trying to hold on. Like Hell, huh?

As far as finding you, or I should say, Virgil, a momma… Love died in bed in the vet’s office. So while I’m all about Girls, Girls, Girls… I’ll Never Fall In Love Again, Braxton.

The End? Never say never, but I can’t just turn a page and see what happens unless I start publishing books and cut out my self-fulfillment. B By Later, Virgil.

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 303 ~Hello, Hello, Monsieur B~

Please say Hello to me… that’s after having such a nice dream. I’d forget it all if B III woke me up by running over my face, asking me for treats, or better if I had known something was wrong with him and been his Dad. Hello, Hello, Monsieur B.

Friday, April 30, 2021

Gospel 303 ~Hello, Hello, Monsieur B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I would wave goodbye to all of it just to say, Just Me, Baby B.

Sometimes I’ll say Good Morning Braxton when I walk into his room. The two of us weren’t AM people at all, Ha. There was a time when he would run over my head, eager to go out. Back with my Olds, it would be him barking. Then there’s “Medicine Time.” I’ve been thinking a lot about what THEY call The Golden Rule. I treat others how I would like to be treated. All I want in my life nowadays is peace and quiet. One more reason B III was perfect, we didn’t have to talk… we walked, and that’s how we knew we were ok. People think they are entitled to my voice… fuck people, especially the ASM. Braxton deserved the best version of me.

Now I shouldn’t say all people. Indiana Gone is my second best friend. I worry about M Anime. I still think about Cherry, Okay, even MILF Dos from time to time. But at the end of the day with Braxton, no matter what, I was always me. I got to say hello to myself finally. I could repeat the same stories about Braxton arriving in a monster’s hands. The time I caught him eating my breakfast. How about when he chose me as he jumped into the car? If I kept but one promise to my son, it was this. When I would leave, I told him I’ll be back. Do I look like The Terminator? Better you don’t answer that, my future being uncertain.

My favorite part of the day was crawling up the steps and seeing him. I would pet his head, hug him, let him jump all around, and then I’d ask, “you want to go outside?” Give me that moment forever. The Stairway to Heaven or The Rainbow Bridge, Braxton awaits. So here come the waterworks… Braxton’s last day and I dared to say Good Morning. The hello I gave him after the vet gave me the final prognosis on him, and I held him like we hadn’t seen each other in forever. I can even smell him. The brief moment after his death when the storm passed, there was such sunlight, Just Me, Baby B.

I’ve said hello in many ways. Hello, Hello, Monsieur B

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 296 ~The Battling Barker Braxton~

His bark is worse than his bite… God, how I miss that bark. Braxton may not have liked a bunch of people; I can count them up on one hand. He loved me, and the people that do are far less. B fought for me until the end. “The Battling Barker Braxton.”

Friday, April 23, 2021

Gospel 296 ~The Battling Barker Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or I better be as Braxton can’t protect me from what has happened, will or won’t.

Back in B.B. (Before Braxton), when I was in high school, I would “pray” to have hell, someone to pray to at all. A friend to stand with me… though even with B III, I never got around to getting him registered or whatever. Fuck You ASM, I said WHATEVER!!! Pardon me, My Lady, anyway Braxton should have been an Emotional Support Animal. As the song goes, “so take a look at me now,” I’m going crazy. Although that could be the idea of a fight. I’m saying I won’t say YES, I won’t kowtow, back down, hit the ground. If I do, that overgrown, meathead, jock asshole will have to put me there, I swear. However, my first mistake was burying my best friend.

Well, no, B III is sitting on my nightstand, but you know what I mean. Speaking of black men that are threats to my safety, sanity, and self-worth, my “father.” I fought him once and lost but Braxton. My prince knowing, my dude’s in distress, jumping between us, my boy. He got kicked four feet high by my “father” into a wooden door. Braxton and I have shed the same blood in the same mud or across a kitchen floor, at least. Time to get my cry in on this Saturday, April 17. Braxton is forever my son, my brother, and my best friend. He showed such forgiveness, but when my “father” came by without me here, he sat in his bed very scared, waiting.

What I might miss the most as I sit here in bed is where he would be when I slept. I would wake up to see him on the foot of the bed on the corner, staring at the door. As I got going, he would come over, and after making sure I was okay, he would sleep; Daddy’s shift. As I confessed at some point, I’ve never woken up to a girl in the bed. Not in this house. The way Braxton and I would sleep back to back. How he’d guard the gate when we were at my Olds barking up a storm. “Remember who the real enemy is.” Braxton wouldn’t care if I was a hero or villain. The Battling Bard Braxton.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 289 ~B Gets The Girl~

“Tale As Old As Time Song As Old As Rhyme…” maybe not; it’s only been seventy-five days. I lost the “young” prince Braxton. I’d give the kingdom to have him back. Now I’m screaming at a lady yesterday for invading my space. B Gets The Girl.

Friday, April 16, 2021

Gospel 289 ~B Gets The Girl~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but instead of wanting to be the Prince, I’ll listen to B and be the Beast.

Now make no mistake, Braxton was a prince. Humans to dogs are owners, masters, kings, even gods but also best friends. With all the regrets of how I was nowhere near the best daddy to him. I am saddened by the fact that Braxton never made any doggy friends ever. Her name was Greta. I can’t remember what kind of dog she was, only that she and B were about the same height. We met her when we lived with my Olds (B III’s grandparents). I’d take him around the block, um, when it was “safer” being a black man.
Sorry, I don’t mean to get awfully political today. Anyway, so Greta would come up to say hello, and what do you think he did?

Braxton might not have been one with the furry chicks but my type of girls. I shouldn’t say that either; otherwise, she and I would have been together. For now, she remains my second BFF. I often said that the first girl that wins B’s heart I’d marry. Sorry, Braxton. Her name is Indiana Gone (not a fact, you know). While I was busy getting all handsy with the maid, B could not keep his paws off Indiana Gone. I’m sure I’ve told this story before how he hated her guts at first but like father like son. B Squared was one for her Yabbos. So here I am explaining to my son that he has to be a gentleman. Nope, he was a beast.

Only I would not let him, as Trevor Philips put it, “rut like beasts.” I swear, sometimes I felt like a pimp, people bugging us, wanting to buy him, and talking about breeding. The lowest offer for Braxton was $500.00, the highest $900. I should have gotten him a sister. Do you want to hear a confession? I’ve never got some “cuddy” in this house; my hand to God truth. We’re talking well… years. Now B Squared for all his barking, chasing, and then running from girls. Triple B was a virgin, and I didn’t have the heart to neuter. I’m continuing to line up regrets, no playmates, taking better care, and he never got to meet my new family.

Heaven… B Gets The Girl

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will