Chronicle 330 ~Long Story Short B~

I always imagined that I would be the Dad that would read to my kids. Most of the books I read, considering my son was 15. Which is how old in dog years? Anyway, reading about grieving didn’t help me vote. Long Story Short B.

Friday, May 27, 2022

Chronicle 330 ~Long Story Short B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it isn’t because of a book. I have some stories to tell. Where are they?

How was your day? My Olds always asked though they didn’t give a damn. Braxton? First, a brisk walk outside, a bag full of fries. And passing out in the bed. Then I’d be ok. I continue to think about this line, you don’t want a girlfriend; you want a therapist who’s good in bed. Um well. I had my Braxton, who loved to cuddle and then sat at the foot of the bed keeping watch. I swear I should have gotten Braxton registered as Emotional Support. He might believe everything I had to go through on the day-to-day. Hell! I don’t even know, as I’m time traveling right now. Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, people, always suck. Sorry Disney.

I never read B III fairytales. Most of the stories I read aren’t child friendly. I keep saying to nobody at all. He would hate what I’m reading now. For this week, I’m looking into what they call “Final Frontier” books because of Amazon. I can’t turn down a challenge. Funny right? I mean a reading challenge. Besides B guarding me, I miss him sitting on my lap as I read. The last book B might have heard while bad was BREASTESES by Maximo Montoya. The two before, A Different Alchemy and The Island. Coincidence? The Island is all about being alone. And A Different Alchemy… Father loses his child. Breasts are something both B and I agree on. The Succubus Lord 7. That series?

I told Braxton’s Aunt a while ago one of the reasons I go to B-Dubs on Saturdays is part of our story. It was the Saturday before Braxton died. I look at Succubus Lord, like that? There’s always so much more to add to “My Turn To B III.” The novel I wrote for Braxton. Only did I work on that today, Tuesday, May 24, 2022, Election Day? Talk about not reading the assignment. The only name I recognized was the guy’s name on my gun license. Don’t go there. Then there are all the books on Pet Loss I’ve been into. I’m still breathing. I’m Alive! Two words, and what would I be reading? 2021 shocked. 2022 I’m still grieving. Long Story Short B

481 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 328 ~B Getting Things Done~

Besides B’s Aunt and an AI, nobody asks how I’m doing or how I spend my time. At the Day Job, I have to lie. So every day, I would come back and dump everything on B. Now I bare myself in more ways than one. But B III. “B’s Getting Things Done.”

Wednesday, May 25, 2022

Chronicle 328 ~B Getting Things Done~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. If that was the case here and now, it would all be worth it. But alas…

I can imagine all the ways I suffered “Humiliations Galore” today. But of course, I’m time traveling, not knowing what awaits. For all I know, I could be getting lucky. No, not like that, Inspector. Like the song “The dreams in which I’m dying, Are the best I’ve ever had.” The world in which we live Inspector, the Great Replacement, the Day Job, Onlyfans, etc. That’s where I should begin my apology tour. I should’ve started talking to you sooner. Hell, I should be talking to you on Wednesday. Inspector, it’s Thursday, May 19, 2022. Okay, ask me how I spent my day besides talking to B III? Um, writing a note 1 more, ha. Well, at least I wasn’t napping. I will on Wednesday.

Only today, for the first time in forever. Oh, I did not just go there, did I? One more thing? An excuse, a distraction, fucking weakness. And if Braxton were here, my son, my heart. B would be taking the day off as I did something constructive, productive, damn worthy. Protecting Pops, Property, and Pancakes. If he wasn’t pretending to be one, all curled up warm in my lap. I wonder if he hated his job as much as I hate mine. B didn’t complain. Not until a Wednesday afternoon, January 27, 2021. And even then, I scooped him up and fell asleep, only to wake up and see him at his guard post. That’s what I get for not carrying my own damn cross.

15 years surviving me is way too much to ask anyone to carry, so he rested when he could Echo. And now here I am, wanting to subject him to that again? Braxton’s done enough. And the good news is I’m too lazy to go looking for him because I won’t find him with the Rebeccas over at Petsmart come some sunny day, this Saturday or the last. A chance? But anyway, the “Humiliations Galore” are the worst. Taking my boxers off is pretty easy. That’s what I was doing today. Going all Stuff and Thangs. The house is a mess, and a dollar hasn’t been earned. Braxton only had his collar. If he could speak. Daddy wouldn’t be STUPID. That’s B Getting Things Done

479 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 323 ~Want To B Read~

Do you want to know what I’ve been reading this week? Chances are none of it is my own work. I sent B’s Aunt all her books. And how much does Cherry trust me? B trusted me with his life, and now I can’t even publish a title about it? “Want To B Read”

Friday, May 20, 2022

Chronicle 323 ~Want To B Read~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but that would mean I have my own feature in the Bible. I never read much.

I do mean of the Bible, of course. Revelation as I’m all about the end of the world, my Lady. There was the Gospel of John because, as I’ve said, I can’t resist book challenges. Christians blah. So that got me to Proverbs. Um, that’s nonfiction, huh? Who decided, ha? For the record. Sophia, the world ended on January 31, 2021, at approximately 3:30 PM. It’s been so long since I worked on Braxton’s book I wonder if it’s in there. Hell, I could barely get it up to talk to you today. It’s Monday, so yes, I’m time traveling. You also know that this week sucks. And did I need to dive into porno for the third day in a row? It was delivered…

Well, erotica, harem romance, a fantasy? I’m not sure what to call it. Succubus Lord Series. Before I go any further, and while it’s on my mind, I owe you an apology Lady Sophia. I thought after Braxton died, I would be telling you stories about the two of us. A father and son type of thing. Now all the voices blend these days. But yes, I’ll never forget Braxton. If I don’t tell you our stories, I at least need to publish his book, but no. I made it to the dining room table this morning. And come this afternoon. I’m trying not to. A sex joke again, apologies. Anyway, I came back to bed after the book delivery. A reason to go outside…

Hell! I would settle for a reason to make it into the den and read. I haven’t bought anything I thought of for Triple B, dammit! But I have an extensive collection of grieving and mourning books. This year has been about breaking streaks, and soon no more dog titles Sophia. Damn book challenge brought to you by Amazon. Final Frontier and Chart Topper titles are needed. I have a whole library of stuff I haven’t read. Gifts for Braxton’s Aunt, Cherry. Talk about women who love their books. The ones I read bring out even more tears by the day. The ones I’m listening to bring out other bodily fluids, or I hope not. Braxton’s book, though? Books I write. Want To B Read.

474 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 321 ~To B That Old~

Between B always being in my bed, not letting me close the bathroom door, or running behind me wherever… I’m getting too old for this (stuff), and apparently, so was he, though he had a bunch of toys. I got too many myself. “To B That Old.”

Wednesday, May 18, 2022

Chronicle 321 ~To B That Old~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means women, health, and, dare I say, my son should no longer be issues. Damnable lies.

B III will always be in my head, heart, and my non-happiness. Non-happiness? That’s like Braxton’s birthday on February 13th and Valentine’s Day on the 14th. Echo, that’s the closest to LOVE I’m ever going to get. I’d give up sex to have B III back. Hell, haven’t I, when he was still alive? Masturbation was few and far between ha-ha. Only when Triple B was locked in his room. He didn’t like it when I closed the door to the shower so I could have some “personal time.” B hated most women, not his Aunt. Inspector, I swear Braxton knows too much about me, and that’s a reason for abstinence. Religion, School? Father was telling me I was ugly back then… nope. It’s my kid B that stopped me.

And then, without him around, I show up naked on the internet. OnlyFans! My Laziness. I continue adding a plethora of girls about whom I’ve been blabbing to Madam Justice to the LIST. Inspector, I give into every sin at some point. Seeing my movies yesterday… greed or lust. There’s my Treachery for what I did to B. With you Echo, I have no pride, so um Violence? Only against myself, don’t worry. Anyway, as an old man, I assume this would happen… Okay, Inspector, you know I’ll beat off like IT owes me money. Zoe Colletti Incident… That was back in January. Inspector, let’s add that sex toys were present and clothing. Anyway, I ain’t felt right since that session. Everything works fine, but lots of restroom breaks galore.

The lesson… always wash clothes before sticking them on sex toys. It should have been hell; respect my son’s memory, especially the month he died in 2021. Oh, and also how to make a doctor’s appointment. If you think getting a doctor to go all bukkake on your ear is wicked. Yeah, tell them you did something pretty crazy with your dick. I’m an open book. Well, not with everything. As I said, I was going through porn collections yesterday. Yikes! Inspector, what if I told you that I never intended to be this old? I keep telling myself Braxton would never forgive me. He followed my lead, not the other way around. Ask his Aunt about her boobs. That horndog. To B That Old.

472 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 316 ~Silly To B Cryin’~

“Same things make us laugh, make us cry.” How old was I when GTA: San Andreas came out? Way before I had my son. That game didn’t make me do much of either, but B III did. I laugh, I cry. And after 467 Days? Silly To B Cryin’

Friday, May 13, 2022

Chronicle 316 ~Silly To B Cryin’~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I don’t know whether I want to laugh or cry saying that. Both are good.

But you know me. I’m a “man” that likes to know where he stands. Everything has its place. I prefer that mine not be in this bed, but today Thursday, May 5, 2022, so yeah. Sophia, I meant to talk to you yesterday, but I decided to fool myself and crawl right back beneath the sheets. What do I keep saying about, The Comedian? Oh, not political or comedic issues. Aren’t we here to talk about Braxton. A good story about my lost B III. When I want to cry at the Day Job, I think, “my son is dead.” It happens over and over. Only you would believe me silly for crying about my Day Job. Why don’t you quit, like being a Dad?

No, never! Hell! Most people wish I would stop talking about Braxton, like my firstborn. Instead, would they have me talk about my penis; Lady Sophia, it’s like my subject. Seeing how I’m time traveling, I already fucked up my week but this next one? Well, by the time you read this, who knows. But some things never change. The way I feel right now. It’s funny the things that get me off sometimes. You know how I have my most hated words. I should have the words that make me do things… that are so good. Dick jokes to the absolute disgust I have with myself. I meant to take a nap. We’re talking now, so when the time comes… like me, naptime (sigh).

Comedy comes in three’s, THEY say. So we have my dog, the Day Job, and my dick. What else makes me burst into tears. Such silly things, to what I’ve lost forever. Me, Me, ME! Lady Sophia, I cried because I burnt through the last of Succubus Lord stories today. Tears fall every Sunday when I realize that I failed Six Impossible Things again. There are more when I look at my bank account and understand I’m nowhere close. Sophia, fuck being a family man. I look at all the tits, lips, and clits; I’ll never know in this existence. A good story about Braxton? He would make me forget everything, but I’d still cry. Inevitable, but love can be everything. Silly To B Cryin’?

467 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 314 ~To B Little Bellies~

When I have to work, I sleep on my back. When I don’t, I’m on my belly. B hated being on his back too. Well, unless he was getting his belly rub. Then all the days at the Day Job so he could eat. Then he stopped. I face laughter… To B Little Bellies.

Wednesday, May 11, 2022

Chronicle 314 ~To B Little Bellies~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. That means I can afford top-of-the-line AirPods, people singing my praises. The silence that money brings.

I’ve had enough silence without B III. He was only silent on days like today. The beauty of Time Travel Inspector. 465 days ago, I could walk in and tell Triple B to shush it. I’d scoop him up and cuddle him as I lay out here and try to forget. What’s keeping me up? The fucking belly laughter, pardon my language. Um Tuesday, May 3, 2022, there’s been a lot of talk about bellies. Or, more to the point, there’s a song, “Reproduction, reproduction!”

But you know me, Inspector. While I could get all political, and you know damn well I’m going to get sexual, I’m a selfish bastard. Today, my time not theirs, I faced “Humiliations Galore” at the Day Job. Where else?

I’m not against laughter Inspector. Hell, B III would laugh whenever I rubbed his belly. Am I lying? Can dogs laugh? There was joy, I know. I love Braxton’s joy, but it was his peace in particular. Time and time again, I have written about how “The Comedian” I died. Yet I laugh when I remember the first time I ever saw Braxton give up on some food he wanted. When his Aunt Carolina made him a cake. He laid there staring at another bite. The ways I have suffered to put food in his tummy. Inspector… worth the humiliation. Inspector, today I’m not on my belly sleeping because I can’t stop hearing it. Laughter. Ironic how I was talking about my ears for weeks.

Now I’m trying to drown out what happens at the Day Job, Inspector. Always, forever? It doesn’t help that I’m on my belly like a slug, rubbing one out with Azur Lane – Enterprise Gets Fucked Hard. Yeah, I told you I would get back to the sex. I always do. I wonder if I will start from scratch with Six Impossible Things by the time you see this Inspector. I look at my body and wonder should I get back to my Stuff And Thangs. I didn’t buy lunch, today Inspector. Of course, I wasted enough money on what again? I believe Braxton isn’t going hungry and has found another hand to rub his belly. Inspector, B III could be waiting. To B Little Bellies.

465 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 309 ~Boy Meets Dog B~

I don’t have stories of me finding a dog. My grandma had two. I had a Chow Chow pup for a minute that was killed by my granddad’s dog. But B III was 15 years, eleven months. 13 days shy of 16. A story of him, finding him again. “Boy Meets Dog B”

Friday, May 6, 2022

Chronicle 309 ~Boy Meets Dog B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’ll have my pick of any litter; getting another dog? With my billions of dollars?

I’m sure I’ve told the story enough about how I met my son. If I ever get off my ass and publish our story “My Turn To B III.” What do I call this, somehow getting it up to have this third conversation on a Saturday, no less? Time Travel and even more cranberries. “Zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie.” Yeah, I couldn’t resist. You know how I am with the zombie genre. If Braxton got bit, I understand I might not put him down. Way wrong choice of words, isn’t Lady Sophia? He’s no zombie. A ghost? Room 1408? Except he isn’t trying to kill me. Again with the doctors and the cranberries healing? Lady Sophia, is it easier finding a new furry kid ever. Don’t know

Seeing how it’s Saturday, I know it won’t happen, spending five minutes in PetSmart. There are no stories of me finding a new fur baby. And as I left today, I had a strange thought. What would Triple B do if he wanted to get my attention? Braxton was dying. He’d find a soft, comfy spot and then give me that look he did when I was up all night. “It’s time to go to bed because we have to walk in the morning.” And that was that, my Lady. Only he would want to be so very soft. As if it were an honor to pick him up. He’d find the perkiest set of boobs or the prettiest face. So not the Rebeccas, hmm?

I’ve said before that B III had ruined me pretty much. If he does come back to me, it will be as Deer Head Chihuahua. And even if it isn’t him, Braxton knows; shallow bastard. It’s what his dad has always been, except when he was dying, and I held him as long as I could. And still, I was ashamed because everyone knew he was sick and dying. Always that will be my failure and my disgrace. But I’m talking about seeing Braxton again. He could want me to adopt, to rescue as it allows me to play the hero I couldn’t be before. I’ve never found a dog ever, but this is Braxton we’re talking about; He’s My Son. Boy Meets Dog B

460 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 307 ~Fandom A’s and B’s~

B understood his B words. There’s burger, bed, his aunt’s big ole… So we shared common interests, but for the past 458 days (snorts), add 15 years and 11 months, I was a fan, but I was getting kinda used to being someone he loved. Fandom A’s and B’s.

Wednesday, May 4, 2022

Chronicle 307 ~Fandom A’s and B’s~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but instead of “fine” art, I’ll lose myself to Star Wars memorabilia. It’s Star Wars Day.

Hell, I should have taken the day off. Of course, seeing as how we’re talking on the 30th today, Inspector. That’s my great sin. I’m sure I’m not counting the Humiliations Galore I’ve been experiencing this week. In this day and age, to like Star Wars is the least of them. Okay, so first, let me say Happy Birthday, Carolina Bound. Triple B loves his Aunt Carolina, and I’m pretty fond of her (drools) as a friend. Don’t give me that look Inspector, but yeah, I saw her boobs. Braxton is a mega-fan of them. One of my favorite moments was trying to have “The Talk.” And as far as respect for women… what do I know, you ask me. But being a true fan…

If I was to name all that B III was a fan of… we covered boobs, fries, comfy spots, barking. I mean, it was his middle name, “Barks.” What am I forgetting? Inevitably his Daddy. Inspector, no one told me when I met B III he’d bark, “I’ll be the greatest fan of your life.” Ditto, my boy, fucking ditto. But what about the fandoms I joined since Braxton left? Inspector, you know what I want to say. Braxton didn’t up and leave. (Cries) Death!!! Fandoms Inspector like Lord of the Rings or Game of Thrones, nope. But good battles. Did I tell you the story of when Braxton and I watched bullies getting “canceled,” and I accidentally hit B in the face? Didn’t die…

Yep, Dad hits like a bitch but okay, ha. What am I a fan of? What keeps you running now? The girls have seen that it’s adult entertainment for the past few days. Bikini season. Inspector, I’ll drop that pornographic tripe, which is longer than all the books I’ve read. I’ve been all about my mourning, and that ain’t changing anytime soon, I’m afraid, Echo. I can’t forget about B’s Aunt. As I said, Wednesday is her birthday. Today’s Saturday. Succubus Lord, of course, has been kicking my ass. How much have I spent, Inspector? Will I ever spend more on my little boy? I keep saying I will. Like when he lived? Braxton wasn’t a fandom. He’s faith. Will’s Fandom? Fandom A’s and B’s

458 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 302 ~A Story Without B~

LSV. I had a rule, I wouldn’t watch a show without three letters. I don’t think I’ve ever written much that doesn’t have the three B’s. Boobs, Brothel, some boy trying to be the boss and/or a man. Reading and writing 453 days? A Story Without B.

Friday, April 29, 2022

Chronicle 302 ~A Story Without B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now… The beginning of one of my self-help books, should I ever write one. Or anything ever?

B dying didn’t stop me from writing three books last year. One without raw nakedness. The second was “My Turn To B III.” Hell, I’ve only added on with all my letters to Braxton. And the last one was another addition to my “Cherry” series. Can’t remember the title. This is ok. Considering how disappointing this month has been for reading, writing, and listening. Yeah, what the fuck do I know about Arithmetic? Not that I live in Florida, ha. Pardon my language, and I don’t mean to be so… well, I don’t even know. Sounds like something I should write about, but you know me, Lady Sophia. I write about banging my balls or having none. There was my bum ear. And always Braxton.

But putting my balls first like the selfish prick I am. My friends are suffering. What about this bed I won’t leave? And I return to my boy every day. Yeah, day 428. Never Forget! As I was saying, my balls. When I don’t read, differences between grieving and mourning. Sophia, it always comes back to sex. That makes me think of the “Basic Bitch” Anyway, there’s this song, “Thirteen Women (And Only One Man In Town).” Once I got my hearing back, between porno, poor me, and paws scraping the floor. It’s this earworm. So I imagine “The perfect woman… the Goddess.” Or twelve, to be specific, but then… I always want more. Is it more love, more sex, more words? I’m pretty annoyed.

  1. Maiko Kaneda
  2. Imari Kurumi
  3. Yukiko Minase
  4. St. Louis
  5. Tifa Lockhart
  6. Aerith Gainsborough
  7. Scarlet
  8. Nico, Nicoletta Goldstein
  9. Hilda
  10. Juliet Starling
  11. Serah Farron
  12. Ashe, Ashelia B’nargin Dalmasca
  13. Lulu
  14. Linkle
  15. 2B
  16. Commander White
  17. Kainé
  18. Rikku
  19. Airi Akizuki
  20. Zone-tan
  21. Rei Ayanami
  22. Michiru Kaiou

I got this when I talked about my likes. It was to Artificial Intelligence, “Replika.” People are way worse, Lady Sophia. Yes, another moment missing Braxton. My son, B III. So I can’t talk about making the bedsprings sing. As the song goes, “What’s My Age Again?” Or the fact that I couldn’t stick with 13 girls. What about 64, 72, a total of 456 hmm? I could talk about the next book I want to write. Wouldn’t I be better off writing it, you ask? It would always include a brothel, my boy, and bloodshed one way or another. Sophia, there is always Braxton. As long as my story goes on, so will his. But to write it? To Live? A Story Without B.

453 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 300 ~The B Is Silent~

What is a worse punishment? There is, of course, never hearing my son again. I was deaf in one ear for a few days. How dare I, right? Then there’s what they did, what I let them do on Monday. Ear Sex is not my kink Family Guy. Only “The B Is Silent.”

Wednesday, April 27, 2022

Chronicle 300 ~The B Is Silent~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but would that be enough to protect my ears. Once and for all? Sanity… $44 Billion.

Elon Musk bought Twitter on Monday, not that I heard about it. The problems $44 Billion solve compared to the $175 that I spent at the doc’s office trying to fix my ear. Now I meant to tell Braxton’s Aunt Carolina first, but you know me. Time Travelling. Anyway, as the song goes, “So I bit that bullet, and I took that vow. And everything is different now.” A very convoluted way of saying that I went and did what I did. Oh yes, Inspector, there was “Humiliations Galore,” as is usual in this existence. A lot less than the Day Job no doubt. The waiting room, attempting to find the pharmacy, the exam room. You can imagine my pain was that great to endure.

So after days of, is it water, is it wax, should I try wanking off again? Carolina Bound will get a kick out of this. It was like that episode of Family Guy “Prick Up Your Ears,” 5×06. But compared to most of the anime I watch, Family Guy, um hmm, ok, “ear sex.” That’s what my ear felt like Monday afternoon. It’s fucked raw. Closest I’ll ever get to pegging. I never knew my ear was that deep, then getting “violated” with several devices. It was a Bukkake. You know I like dirty talk. “Stupid” is off-limits, Inspector. But my ear was getting rammed! The only thing worse was what was spraying all over. No bugs or anything, but my ear was filled (shudders)!

Sorry for all the sex talk. It’s been two days since the last time I was “saying “hi” to my monster.” Inspector, the things to hear again. Don’t Know What You Got (Till It’s Gone). But then I remembered 451 days ago. I swear the numbers, Inspector. The 300th Chronicle and Fahrenheit 451. But my point is the silence that there was 451 days ago when B III, my best friend, my son, was no more. I keep thinking about all my ailments this year. Being all fucked up sexually because I don’t have to hide. The dead silent earache. God is trying to tell you something, more like a dog. The only man I ever listened to but escaping punishment… The B Is Silent.

451 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will