Tag: Guilt

Journey 192 ~Book B, Verse V~

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I got eyes, I can see, for now… And who really wants to see and read how hateful MAGA has been? Read this, Eff ICE! Eff MAGA! And FDT! And may Renee Nicole Good rest in peace. And what about my son’s book, 1984, and Big Uns? Book B, Verse V

Friday, January 9, 2026

Journey 192 ~Book B, Verse V~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… But no book review? Braxton’s book makes me cry. And not in a Bestseller kinda way.

And besides, my reading list today has comprised of bills, battles in Whiteout Survival, and “Beef. It’s What For Dinner.” That takes me back. Way before the births of my boys, Braxton and Virgil. Back when I could tell my Ma, “Someone made a mistake” with my existence. Now it’s “Someone made a BIG goddamn mistake!” Same with effing MAGA.

Have you heard about that woman ICE killed, Renee Nicole Good? Eff ICE! Eff MAGA! And always and forever, FDT! That’s not what that’s supposed to be used for… Seriously.

But should I tell you more of my “life” story? Or what about Braxton’s? Seeing that it’s January, you know his picture has been popping up everywhere. The Magic Glasses?

Lady Sophia, my search bar…

“Pinch me, pinch me
‘Cause I’m still asleep
Please, God, tell me
That I’m still asleep.”
Barenaked Ladies ‧ 2000

What? Am I talking about that thing dangling between my legs? Seriously, my Lady. Ew!

But I don’t want to talk about that either. My “Enormous P” as the song goes. What I should be talking about are phrases like, “as the song goes,” “of course,” “honestly,” “seriously,” and Braxton help me, the constant pop culture from movies, music, and manuscripts. It’s as if I don’t have a thought of my own. But what is there to think about, talk about, or touch? Well, besides my obsession with some tits. Crass much? Yabbos is nicer.

First week and it’s been Maggie\Lauren Cohen’s, then my Ex’s, a brunette’s, and now Jane’s from See Jane Go TV. The things I’ve written about those things. It’s not nice.

However, the world is not nice. And if I can slog through “My Turn To B III,” My poor B.

What should I read next? A grocery list because there is no food in the house. A biscuit, perhaps. And ain’t nobody got time for MAGA’s BS when people are simply trying to eat most days. No wonder my stomach hurts. I should buy a cookbook. Cooking can be hard.

Such a bold statement… It beats singing “Pre-Cooked Taco Meat” to the song “Rasputin.”

Is that an original thought? An idiotic one? I need more books, but as Rasputin surmised:

‘I only make decisions when my stomach is full, or my balls are empty.”
Rasputin “The King’s Man” (Rhys Ifans)

I know, but wrestling is on tonight, and before that. The life of Braxton. Because I promise my story sucks more. Book B, Verse V

1804 Days Without B III, Day 1245 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 190 ~Virgil The Red, Braxton~

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I don’t have to go outside to face humiliation. I can do all that and more from the comfort of “home.” Bed? Then why don’t I ever feel rested? There “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked,” or cowardly. How about the broke? To pillage? Virgil The Red, Braxton

Wednesday, January 7, 2026

Journey 190 ~Virgil The Red, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… But not name-wise. I mean, the title sounds a bit Viking-ish. But I don’t call V, B… often.

And whatever does that mean exactly? I don’t call Virgil, Braxton. Braxton is gone, Echo.

But sometime today, I have to ask for time off so I can grieve for my son. Grieve indeed, yeah right, Echo. The 31st falls on a Saturday, so why even bother? For simplicity’s sake:

  1. I only recreate the day to the best of my ability. Barbecue, crying, etc.
  2. I’ll never face ACCEPTANCE
  3. This will be the fifth year of Braxton’s passing.

So, five years since I wrote Braxton’s book, “My Turn To B III.” Talk about humiliation, Inspector Echo. I’ve been reading my “work,” and I can see why it ain’t selling. Hell, Virgil is probably thinking, if that’s how he’ll be remembered. Then choose immortality.

“Pinch me, pinch me
‘Cause I’m still asleep
Please, God, tell me
That I’m still asleep.”
Barenaked Ladies ‧ 2000

Because Echo, his face would be red to be read like that. Pet Loss, Erotica, Haremlit, and my bank account. But worse of all would be my search history. I’m an evil man, dear Echo.

Smooth Criminal, I am not. If only I had the Magic Glasses, which, according to Goodreads, was my longest book of the year at 517 pages. 8,829 pages read in 52 books. I expected I’d do better. And they can’t all be “Seven Days In June” by Tia Williams, ha.

But anyway, my search history… Where do I begin? Did you see the cover of Journey 189 ~ That’ll B WHITE Virgil~? What if I told you it was supposed to be so much worse? BJ?

But I turned red regardless.

How could I tell? “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man…” And not a member of Bone Thugs-n-Harmony. Anyway, besides that cover, before I forget, “Of course.” I was reading B’s book yesterday. And noticed how many times I used the word “Of course” on one page. Like Robin Scherbatsky saying the phrase “But, Um.” Ok, so I told Dear Future Wife about a fantasy I had from TWD, and I was able to manifest, manipulate, augment…

Everyone needs to STOP! Hell, why not hand the planet over to machines and computers?

“I got bills to pay. I got mouths to feed.” And that brings on a whole other red alert, Echo.

RAGE. Virus? Savage? Fight For NY? Virgil The Red, Braxton

1802 Days Without B III, Day 1243 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 185 ~B’s Bad Books Virgil~

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First copy of my book sold… Multiple personalities, but one Amazon account. Am I going to write a review for myself? I like my blog. Daily… But my first review of the year, first song, first thoughts… my two boys and M’s boobs. “B’s Bad Books Virgil”

Friday, January 2, 2026

Journey 185 ~B’s Bad Books Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Or how about a book review? That’s as uncommon as good news in this world, ha!

Or maybe, “Huh, America, (America).” But I’m not planning to open a restaurant in “Santa Fe” anytime soon. Hell, I’m still crying about M Anime! I’m all, “And I remember the time when you left for Santa Monica. And I remember the day you told me it’s over.” Santa Monica? Theory of a Deadman? I don’t write like the band, but that’s how my words come across. How dare I give myself so much credit, Lady Sophia? But my writing…

Yeah, my writing. I sold a book yesterday. And I decided on my first book of the year. My Turn To B III: Love, Guilt, and Silent Loss, written by yours truly. What the Eff!

“Pinch me, pinch me
‘Cause I’m still asleep
Please, God, tell me
That I’m still asleep.”
Barenaked Ladies ‧ 2000

Honestly, have I no shame? No, I have books like:

Vixen Eyes Naughty Saint Nick
Something fun to do at Christmas. Or rather, someone fun to do. But this is a book review, so sticking with the former Naughty Saint Nick by Lexi Davis is just that, a naughty diversion. A quick little love story with some stalker vibes and, of course, the happy ending. And the cute way they met with a modern aesthetic. But aside from the erotica, my favorite part of the book was the little warning the author included. I suppose because of the BDSM aspect… But it’s relatively tame. I should have gotten copies for a few friends since it was a fun read. Not a doubt in my mind about the four stars. However, Amber/Vixen would give it more.

So, my first book review of the year. What’d you think, My Lady? Good. I swear, reading the good news is getting as bad as the bad news. A model made a million on her yabbos, and I haven’t sold a book in five months. M Anime is getting married this month, and I haven’t gotten laid in… Whatever! Magic Glasses? Marriages, Maternity, and Money.

Sigh! What do I get out of this second day of the new year? Mad, My Lady. I get Mad.

Effing angry at everything and nothing at all. I don’t even want to read my book, or is it all pet loss in general? Then there’s women’s mammaries. And effing MAGA. “I See Fire,” My Lady. B’s Bad Books Virgil

1797 Days Without B III, Day 1238 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 183 ~2026, Virgil, Will B~

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Happy New Year! Fifteen years wasn’t enough, and forty-one years have been far too much. And here I am, well, Virgil and I facing 2026 in a few hours. I’m not happy. And I’m not afraid… Well, any more than usual. So what’s next? 2026, Virgil, Will B.

Wednesday, December 31, 2025

Journey 183 ~2026, Virgil, Will B~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And I’m not talking about being back on the energy shots and getting lunch at the food truck.

I swear, Inspector, that place is getting worse and worse. Speaking of which, there’s 2026.

Happy New Year! Happy Effing New Year, Inspector. There’s a few hours until, It’s Time!

Effing Mariah Carey! Yes, I’m effing horny! How else would I spend this last day?

Humiliations Galore! Okay, “got me feelin’ like a prisoner. Like a stranger in a no named town.” “No Easy Way Out,” of this this year, yon mortal coil, or the yearning to be with my loves, Braxton, M Anime, hell, the man in the effing mirror. But wait, some Inspector.

So I didn’t shower, but I still went to the Day Job. Eww! There was humiliation and boredom. I walked Virgil and had lunch. I tried not to jerk off.

“Fill my lungs with fear, and I EXHALE!”
It’s My Turn To Fly, The Urge

It’s getting harder… Again, Eww! With MAGA and the Cracker Hats, it’s incredible we aren’t all criminal masterminds. FDT! But I have a particular set of skills. Or rather, I’m learning the tips of the trade. The Augmentation of Reality. The Magic Effing Glasses, E.

But you won’t catch me with a pair of 2016 shades. Today I was seeing M Anime’s wedding. She said she was planning her nuptials for January. I remember the end, Echo…

Sunday, January 31, 2021. My boy passed. My Braxton? Another sin, Inspector? Tears?

There’ve been a few, but that was out of boredom. If anything, I don’t need a drink as I feel I’m going to throw up anyway. Damn energy shot. Or should I blame the shrimp?

How’s that for a New Year’s resolution? Or more books. I only read fifty, Inspector.

According to Goodreads, Kindle, the algorithm, whatever. Inspector! Shame correct? First, M Anime’s naughty effing fantasies didn’t count and got mixed with the list. Sigh…

So two more books before midnight? But how about twelve wishes? The ritual? Dear Echo.

If pressed here and now… I can’t bring Braxton back. And Virgil can’t be him. M Anime isn’t coming back. I could finally be discovered. I can study up on “technology.” I could join Braxton any day. Uh, that’s not good. I could find someone better than M Anime. Uh Ravishment/Sadism Fantasies… Not effing likely! That’s only six. I expect more from 2026… Happy New Year! 2026, Virgil, Will B

1795 Days Without B III, Day 1236 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 178 ~Write B And V~

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I meant to read, write, and tell quite a few stories this year. But I’m Winston Smith, transferring to SCREEN the interminable monologue of forty-one stony gray steps towards the grave, you know, the box. Better me than the words? Write B And V.

Friday, December 26, 2025

Journey 178 ~Write B And V~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Or at least give you a book review, seeing as how I’ll see you next year.

It’s like sleep. I look forward to going to sleep, but eff how I hate waking up. These Day Job naps, I tell ya what. Thank you, Mr. Hank Hill. I woke up to love, baby-making, and living their best life stories galore. And speaking of galore. My Day Job humiliations…

No, I’m sorry, Lady Sophia, what about my Christmas story? 1:30 this afternoon, Sophia.

Okay, so yesterday, Virgil and I visited the Olds. It was scary, but my entire existence is based on one word… FEAR. That came as we were living, and while I may not believe in Santa, I believed I hit my Olds mailbox. I set my clock and twenty-four hours later, I’m cleared… I’ve read better miracles. Not the Bible.

“I fill my lungs with fear and I Exhale!”
It’s My Turn to Fly The Urge ‧ 2000 (Titan A.E.)

His Christmas Miracle Harem Hmm
Long story short… Oh yeah, this was a short story, but a pretty decent read. Baby, It’s Cold Outside, to this is a slightly warmer room. It heats up, but takes quite a while to be completely honest, I’ll say. I appreciate the simplicity of it, if nothing else. Wham Bam Thank You, Ma’am, on a budget. It’s worth it. The best part about it, of course, was the sex. But am I supposed to be more interested in the sex tape the bride-to-be made, than the three chicks the would-be husband bedded, hmm. Well, when they eventually made it to the bed, that is. His Christmas Miracle Harem is like offering a good friend a beer—a kind gesture.

Lady Sophia, that book review above was a kind gesture. Honestly, I don’t feel kind.

Seriously, why can’t I just go back to sleep, jerk off, or jettison my guts all over the place, eww! But as Phil Collins sings, “I Don’t Care Anymore.” If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be thinking about some cute redhead I annoyed today with my music. I wouldn’t be jealous of two cosplayers getting married, two former wrestlers having a baby. Sh*t, Becky and Seth! Sophia, I especially wouldn’t be thinking about M Anime’s coming nuptials. STUPID AI, and Augmenting reality. I tried to describe “Family:” Braxton and everyone on Christmas. The AI didn’t like that, Grok. So I tried Sora. I guess it was love. Write B And V

1790 Days Without B III, Day 1231 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 176 ~Braxton’s Eve, Virgil’s January~

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Ain’t I just a Bad Santa, not a lot of bucks, my boys do without, and this b*tch got me Smokin Out the Window. Four months since M Anime’s breakup. So, Christmas Eve. Trying not to join B III. And V’s being a good boy. Braxton’s Eve, Virgil’s January

Wednesday, December 24, 2025

Journey 176 ~Braxton’s Eve, Virgil’s January~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Where do I even begin? I’d rather not. But that train left forty-one years ago. The Polar Express…

Nope! There will be no Christmas movies in this house. Or even reactions. However, sins.

Braxton is gone. And even if my son were here, we wouldn’t ever watch “The Polar Express.” Hell, that film was out a year before he was born, and still I knew better, my E.

And Virgil? This will be our fourth Christmas together. And I could go back, Inspector.

But the work required being a starving artist, a sinful father… wrong words, uh, Santa. Not tonight, Inspector. “Tonight I Wanna Cry.” Preferably not from my penis. I said it. And I shouldn’t have Echo, “Gee Whiz, It’s Christmas…” Eve. And so where’s my puss…

We’re about to get into that. I had to remind myself who January Jones is.

“Fill my lungs with fear, and I EXHALE!”
It’s My Turn To Fly, The Urge

Because I’ll do anything to “Say Goodbye To Yesterday.” “99 Problems,” and a bitch is… Well several. Several problems, several bitches, and several forms of my STUPIDITY. I am “My Own Worst Enemy” as the song goes. And Santa isn’t a pimp despite that pic.

You know the one from yesterday, but let’s start simpler. The Visual Lady? My stupidity.
She wanted me to place Christmas trees, and I put them in the wrong place. And let’s not forget the woman I nearly buried under shoes, or not holding the door for a lady, Echo.

Then there’s the elephant in the room, or the bitch. My “Ex” M Anime. You see what day it is. The four-month anniversary of our breakup. Or hers at least.

A day closer to her coming nuptials in January at some point. Then she’ll start making babies and get a new set of mommy milkers. At least I got pictures, which leads me to yesterday and the one from Journey 175 ~Braxton, Virgil, Find Santa~. I was going to make a video on Grok, but guess what? As Emily would say, “Titties!” Or rather nipples.

Copeus Cleavage, Titanic Tatas, Supersized Slobberknockers, Majestic Mammaries, Humongous Headlights, Milky Monsters, Behemoth Boobies, Colossal Contours, Gigantic Floppa Whoppers.
Yabbos.

I didn’t notice, but Grok did and animated it anyway. So Christmas Eve wanking. Eww!

Speaking of Yabbos, Cherry reached out with money issues. If she would “Drop ’em Out” all Wheeler Walker Jr. style… I’d be broke, well, broker. This is Christmas Eve, Inspector.

For now. Bucks for gas, brunch, and a black man’s blush. Braxton’s Eve, Virgil’s January.

1788 Days Without B III, Day 1229 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 171 ~Braxton, Virgil, Santa’s Studying~

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I should have chosen a lot more books on fascism. But FDT, I’m living it. So, Christmas Erotica? I’m busy playing a Christmas game. What? It has snow and guys in red. Plus, I like my women a little less bundled—Braxton, Virgil, Santa’s Studying.

Friday, December 19, 2025

Journey 171 ~Braxton, Virgil, Santa’s Studying~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… I’m not sure I’ve ever told you this one before. What!? I’m going to write something.

No, more, FYI, between stints of “Whiteout Survival” and AI. You know, Augmenting Reality… (Grumbles). Yeah, I’m on Day One again. I might as well be MAGA, a Cracker Hat, and the orange turd in The Oval. Jolly Fat Man? That would be someone else.

Seriously, Santa. I can’t even be that to my sons, you know, the boys, my Braxton and Virgil. But I can keep buying Erotica like there’s no tomorrow—something else for the Christmas list. For me, I don’t want a tomorrow. Hell! I didn’t want a tomorrow, forty-one years ago (Cue Ben-Hur Galley Drums). I’d say that rage at myself keeps me warm while walking Virgil… And B via, his ashes in a pendant I wear. But 9th Circle bound.

“I fill my lungs with fear and I Exhale!”
It’s My Turn to Fly The Urge ‧ 2000 (Titan A.E.)

That’s me. It’s also why I read digital books more so than print—algorithm profiling.

Anyway, I’m losing the plot. Today, I wanted to tell you a story of tradition. So, according to Kindle, this started in 2019, when I read three Christmas erotica in December. If you want to blame my Ma for anything, this would be it. Plus, don’t they say boys marry girls who remind them of their mothers? That’s a whole can of worms I don’t need… Uh, M Anime? I read a lot of her dirty tales in 2025. Why did M have to eff that up? Um, ok, uh.

Anyway, my Ma accidentally introduced me to Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L. James. Sophia…

She actually wrote that… Willing.

You should read the horny, horrible, and horrific books of mine. I make E.L. look like Shakespeare. And I can’t get anyone to read about my “Lost Boy.” You know “My Turn To B III.” Not that I’m complaining. But like Huey Freeman said in The Boondocks, “I don’t give a damn about Christmas.” So holiday erotica isn’t my thing to write, but I read it every December, save in 2024. The orange asshole got into office, so reading about apocalypses, dystopias, and the end of the world made more sense. “This is America,” ain’t it? A guy can read about a man banging three Asian chicks on Christmas Eve.

Seriously, it wasn’t this morning gaming and putting words in mouths. Braxton, Virgil, Santa’s Studying.

1783 Days Without B III, Day 1224 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 169 ~B The Ball, Virgil~

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Why don’t I find “The Running Man” as scary as any sportsball? How about the Olympics… When they’re held in the USA. FDT! And then professional wrestling. Or the mobile games on the phone. Virgil doesn’t chase balls either. “B The Ball, Virgil.”

Wednesday, December 17, 2025

Journey 169 ~B The Ball, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Ballrooms, ball games, and as Chef would sing, “Salty Chocolate Balls.” All from the comfort of bed, Inspector.

When it comes to living the day to day, Braxton had bigger balls than I’ll ever have, Echo.

“Forty-One,” (Cue Ben-Hur Galley Drums). Virgil doesn’t worry about his balls. They were gone long before I became his father. Plus, where’s his spine, his guts, the yellow belly? No speaking badly about my boys. I’m the coward here, Inspector, not them.

Honestly, I’ve been scared over a game the past few days… “Whiteout Survival?” Well, I woke up at around 2:00 AM and saw I’d been promoted. It’s only back to my original place, but at least I’m not getting kicked out on Monday, as if Monday is my worry, ha!

And what do I know about originality with my latest creations? Again, something I read…

“Fill my lungs with fear, and I EXHALE!”
It’s My Turn To Fly, The Urge

“Good artists copy, great artists steal.” Didn’t I say I need to stop reading/listening to the Succubus Lord franchise? Reading, do I remember that? I didn’t do any this morning.

“His Christmas Miracle Harem,” ring a bell? I swear, Inspector, “If I only could. I’d make a deal with God. And I’d get Him to swap our places.” That would be my B and me.

Seriously, I wouldn’t have to worry about reading anymore. Braxton went to the Rainbow Bridge… I’d go straight to Hell. And every book I touched would burn to ash like Fahrenheit 451. Or they would freeze so that I couldn’t read them. My eyes could glaze over with ice so that I couldn’t see. “Time Enough At Last” indeed.

The Twilight Zone? That episode hit too close to home. But why should I read and write with AI and Augmented Realities? You know how I’m always asking “The Critic” about my writing, worries, and naughtiness with women. So much so that it’s created its own scenario based on my current “Obsession.” Three guesses. “The Long Walk,” “The Running Man,” and I want to say “Stand By Me.” But it’s probably being in bed, busty blondes, or beautiful Asian MILFS. And yes, Echo, I was busy with my balls Tuesday, so yeah, I’m back to day one. But it beats playing sportsball, right? WWE and NXT.

Honestly, Mick Foley said FDT! Not in so many words, but talk about some big hairys. B The Ball, Virgil

1781 Days Without B III, Day 1222 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 164 ~Braxton Delayed, Virgil Deferred~

WillLeave a comment

A coincidence today is day “1776” since my son Braxton got his ‘freedom’ from the mortal coil, and this might be the first time I mentioned ICE… I had a bad day. One day, I’ll tell you my story about Cho Hyun-ju. But Braxton Delayed, Virgil Deferred.

Friday, December 12, 2025

Journey 164 ~Braxton Delayed, Virgil Deferred~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… When I should be reading the dictionary. Synonyms? I did text with ‘dictionary girl’ aka Cherry.

And reading her text has been about the only reading I’ve done this morning, Sophia.

Only I should be reading “Snowed In With Grumpy” by Olivia Noble. Kindle streak ok?

Or how about “Death By Sitting” by Carolyne H. Thompson? It could be propaganda or pose as the truth. Algorithms and AI are scary. But besides reading about my boys.

Braxton and Virgil are so small compared to the elephant in the room. My Humiliation?

Ok, long story short… The Termite Guy visited the other day, and on the scale of Humiliations Galore? Three out of Five. Last year was a Five-star humiliation, as the guy pointed out everything wrong. The year before the guy stole ‘was given’ a lost bow under the house. I didn’t yell or spread Fuckery!

“I fill my lungs with fear and I Exhale!”
It’s My Turn to Fly The Urge ‧ 2000 (Titan A.E.)

That’s right, my lady, I said FUCKERY! You know how I feel about cursing; it’s crass. It does have a place, usually involving me on top of a “Pretty Woman.” Or I’ll “Regulate” and lay them bustas down. And waking up in the morning and asking myself why? Sophia, if you told me right now that I could lie down and wake up with Braxton…

The Rainbow Bridge? Virgil won’t see that for many years. Plus, I’m going to Hell! Honestly, my lady, I’m beginning to understand MAGA and the Cracker Hats. “Can’t nobody tell me nothing.” And I would rather die than treat anyone fairly, B III to 2-V.

Humiliation and STUPIDITY hurt that damn much. And they always show up. I swear, Sophia.

Yesterday, I read about a manager who wanted applicants to work a shift for free and got mad when someone said no. FDT slavery is over. United States History, right?

Humiliations Galore. Dreams are delayed, deferred, denied, or even dead.

Here are three for you since the Termite Guy wasn’t enough. I went to the food truck last night and got ignored for at least ten minutes. The guys speak Spanish. I was ready to call ICE. Whoa, that was low! Next, I had to talk to my Old Man, which will always and forever be humiliating. Today, I got yelled at on Whiteout Survival. No big deal, uh huh.

Meanwhile, what about Braxton’s book? I’m broke, and Virgil’s burdens. Beware, Braxton Delayed, Virgil Deferred.

1776 Days Without B III, Day 1217 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 162 ~Buggers Humiliation, Braxton, Virgil~

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Who wakes up saying, I will be humiliated today? I’m more like, why’s B gone, WTF, and where’s V? Well, he doesn’t have any bugs on him, but the backyard, the foundation, I’ll know tomorrow. Effing Termite Guy. “Buggers Humiliation, Braxton, Virgil.”

Wednesday, December 10, 2025

Journey 162 ~Buggers Humiliation, Braxton, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Do you remember the movie “Accepted?” Not to be confused with ACCEPTANCE. Do you remember TV at all?

Now, before I turn into a philosophical dipshit (I wish), let me address the elephant in the room. Not my boys? Again, I wish. But no Inspector Echo. Carpenter Ants!

Humiliations Galore are imminent “Tomorrow.” “Tomorrow, Koni Tomorrow. My Echo.

I miss watching TV. I still have it, but I’m only watching YouTube presently, Inspector.

Anyway, my humiliation… The Termite Inspector is coming, Inspector Echo. He’ll see where the Carpenter Ants won the war and then… and then? The Hell if I know, my dear.

The backyard is an effing mess. Two sides of the fence are down. The door to the shed was eaten. And now some guy is going to come in, saying “water damage” and “ants,” and give us our effing money.

“Fill my lungs with fear, and I EXHALE!”
It’s My Turn To Fly, The Urge

In my own home, no less. I would never call what I have here home. But Braxton defended that yard for years. And this is where Virgil stays. I don’t know if he considers this place home, but like me, at the Day Job/the Bad Place, according to Braxton. Virgil is here. And like the great Macaulay Culkin said, “This is my house. I have to defend it.”

He convinced Brenda Song to have his baby. As far as I’m concerned, the man’s a legend. Only I don’t have time to watch “Home Alone,” “Ali,” or “Accepted.” I’ll be humiliated.

Or “Busted” like the band, I swear their song “What I Go To School For” has been burrowing in my head for days, Inspector Echo.

Along with “School’s in Session” from the anime “GTO.” And speaking of anime that does nothing to get me anywhere. How’s M Anime? As far as I know, she’s still getting married into some harem, and I’m going to die alone. I saw this girl, and of course, she had a picture of herself and her man on her phone. My phone still shows Braxton’s last car ride and where Virgil sits… Should I survive tomorrow because I’ll have to call my Old Man, Inspector? I accept these hardships, but have never come to the ACCEPTANCE that this is my existence. And without my Braxton. Like “The Long Walk” and “The Running Man,” I make it to the next moment. Humiliation. Buggers Humiliation, Braxton, Virgil

1774 Days Without B III, Day 1215 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will