Tag: Hell

Tale 366 ~Happiness On Anyday But Birth~

WillLeave a comment

Eight years. Around three and a half of them without my Braxton. And that’s what I remember. But of the eight years, were any of them Happy? Maybe I should have named Virgil that. But E-Day is coming up in a few months. Happiness On Anyday But Birth.

Monday, July 1, 2024

Tale 366 ~Happiness On Anyday But Birth~

Three-Hundredth And Fiftieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Along with some ideas. Like finding happiness at all. In Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels, Chronicles, Sagas, Tales…

Tomorrow will mark the eighth year of what, you may ask? Well, a little over a week from now since today is Friday, June 21, 2024. And I can’t remember why I even started. Nor do I want to, Madam.

But for you, Lesson 001 ~Look Who Grossed Up~ Eww!

Think of happier days? Now, Madam, you know that’s not how I operate. The rule we need to discuss was “adopted” on Saturday, September 8, 2018. Please don’t remind me…

Yet I remember the day my Braxton passed away. That was Sunday, January 31, 2021.

But a happy day? There have been good days and bad. When’s been the last day, I didn’t think, “Why not join Braxton?” And seeing how we’re talking today, you know Monday’s been… pretty effed?

Anyway, Braxton loves me. So that Saturday, August 13, 2022, when I found Little Virgil… I’m sure it made Braxton happy because it meant I wouldn’t be following him… sooner.

Madam, we all make mistakes.

I made one today, but I’m unsure whether to “come” clean, Madam. Let’s say this: It involves a dirty blonde, a bathroom cabinet, and looking up black lights on Amazon. Doing such things brings joy but not happiness. Didn’t I say something some time ago about words like happiness, home, and acceptance? That’s one more reason I read—new words.

Speaking of which. I will need a new title if I want to talk to my Dear Future Wife. Right?

Tomorrow will be a new start. Yeah, keeping say that.

Meditations? In honor of Marcus Aurelius. How dare I, right? And Virgil was also a Roman. And considering “my” country is going the way of the Romans… But not today. I’m much too busy being anything but happy. But Madam, baring that, coming so close…

First and foremost, it was holding my son. Knowing that someone loved me. That’s happiness? And then knowing I saved a life. That loving Braxton got me to save Virgil.

The nights when Braxton, his honorary aunt, and I would watch movies on the couch. What I may or may not have done this afternoon staring at some beautiful woman…

Quoting Mad World, “The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” Happiness On Anyday But Birth.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1247 Days Without B III, Day 688 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 362 ~Virgil Writes B Papers~

WillLeave a comment

How would another dead tree bring Braxton back to me? Would it erase the worries of Virgil’s dog food receipts? And if anything, could I write enough so I would never have to step foot in the Day Job again? I promised B! But “Virgil Writes B Papers.”

Thursday, June 27, 2024

Tale 362 ~Virgil Writes B Papers~

1243 Days Without B III, Day 684 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m here. So you know what that means. I would rather be elsewhere. With you…

I’m only one note away, on any given day, B. But I’m too lazy to write a “going to join my boy” letter. Know what I mean. And I’m sure everything I’ve written would be lost online beneath you, yabbos, and the yellow of my cowardice. Speaking of which, Virgil…

Am I going back to worrying about the Day Job? Nah. I’m keeping it. But the pay is not doing me any favors. And if it isn’t the green of those dollars, it’s the yellow of training pads for Virgil. I will have to switch out an energy shot habit, for Virgil Vivi being afraid.

Shouldn’t he be? Look what happened to you? How much paper did it take to put you in a box?

I shouldn’t be so mean, B. But I’ve been beating myself up all this week. Do you remember when you would play around with your toys? I swear! Braxton, your tail or Little B would fall off when your aunt was around. Virgil Vivi doesn’t have those boy problems. Ha!

He’s only drinking and eating from your bowls. He’s using your old carpet. And your training spot? I swear he can’t aim, or he still smells you around. I’ve tried washing it several times. And for all the reasons, I brought Virgil here. One was that he could go on the paper. Was that me being lazy again? Sounds better than I heard your ghost…

Ghost stories, tales about girls, GULP. My writing is bad.

I told you I’ve been beating myself up in more ways than one. I was writing to this girl yesterday. Not “your mother” material. Anyway, I told her the truth, and you can guess what happened. With you, B, money was no object. But B, I’m frugal with girls’ Yabbos.

Only there’s food, financing a book habit, and paying for stuff with a fur buddy. Dear Braxton, be honest; would it help if Virgil didn’t have these reminders of you? What about if I wasn’t all about effing all the time because… I got 99 Problems and with some paper…

Cash, cleaning supplies, an actual copy of some book I’ve written. All these letters to you, my only son… Uh, Virgil? Virgil Writes B Papers

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 361 ~Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton~

WillLeave a comment

I relate to Joe Stevens in “The Mill,” Bingham Madsen in Fifteen Million Merits, #000000014 from the film 2003 Share? Clarence in The Book of Clarence. Men in routines to a wife, Abi, girlfriends, a mom. I got Virgil. Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton.

Wednesday, June 26, 2024

Tale 361 ~Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Well, not if you’ve “joined Braxton.” That’s become my new way of saying “unalive.” Censorship sometimes, Inspector Echo…

But this morning, after I finished mourning the loss of my Braxton… Is that something that needs to be scheduled? It’s my morning routine. I lie in the darkness, Inspector. Moments later, I panic. And then I realize that my son, Braxton, is gone. And he’s not coming back to me or for me. And then I lay back down. Sometime later, I find my glasses, and finally, I’m prepared to see the world. Well, no, that’s a lie for two reasons. Fear and effing.

So after I’m done moaning in a completely different way… For legs, breasts, and thighs…

That makes me smile. Braxton thought the best came out of a box of chicken. But then, what’s next on my agenda. My boy, Virgil?

All these motivations I listen to tell me that your success is made in your routine. This week will be so easy. I thought. I would publish a poetry compilation, “GULP,” and that would be that. But if I have accomplished anything, it’s setting a routine for Virgil. Wake up and let him go outside… Sorry, I’m too busy crying. And then I remember how much of an adult I am with my Yabbos collections. And before I start writing…

There’s Virgil. Sometime in the afternoon, Virgil again. Like having a 9 to 5, Virgil is my commute. And before I fall asleep with all the lights on, Yep, you guessed it. Let V out.

And yet I ain’t his Daddy, Inspector. What am I?

I asked Braxton’s aunt once who she thought would win between androids vs. zombies? That’s a weird question, Inspector… Right?

She said androids, but here’s the thing. Neither one is alive. Just like me, Inspector. I struggle with ‘becoming Human’ and ‘Being a man ‘. Am I just going through the motions, like an android? Have I ever truly lived? Inspector, I feel like a lot of things, an android… Inspector, I could be a bot, Infected, a slave, a zombie… I could go on. How to be a man?

I keep going back to fatherhood being the epitome of manhood. A Man Provides, Echo.

And what I should have provided this week, Inspector Echo, is time enough at last…

Every afternoon, though, you’ll find me “spending my dimes, wasting my time” on my belly.

Or on my back moaning…

Routine? Not writing, filming, reviewing? Nothing! Virgil Becomes Routine, Braxton

1242 Days Without B III, Day 683 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 360 ~Virgil, Braxton Makes Paper~

WillLeave a comment

It’s Only A Paper Moon… Nope. According to the publisher, it’s been six years. So, the moon is very real. Moving the tides but not turning the pages of all I’ve written. About love? No, Braxton left three years ago. “Virgil, Braxton Makes Paper”

Tuesday, June 25, 2024

Tale 360 ~Virgil, Braxton Makes Paper~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I wake up every day with a heart bursting with love for you. But today, my love, I also woke up with something else. Hmm…

Hope. Such mad hope. But there it is. Huh. I’d rather wake up with a fervent hope, a desire to see my son Braxton. Alive, thriving, and brimming with the joy of life once more.

I love you and our family. I’ll Always Love My Mama. I have a younger sister and two nephews. I’d only need a little paper to make a list of all those that I love.

Speaking of which, why did I wake up with hope… Do not worry, my love; despite my business leanings, I haven’t gone all out, like the characters in ‘Succubus Lord, ‘Satan’s Sorority Girls, ‘Bikini Days, ‘and ‘Backyard Dungeon. ‘ These are just some of the books I’ve been reading in my free time. Love, didn’t I say I have a lot of time to read?

Today, I woke up with a glimmer of hope. It was sparked by a dream, a memory from six years ago when I heard from that publishing company. The dream, though fleeting, brought back a surge of emotions and a renewed sense of possibility. Really?

Time has a way of slipping through our fingers, doesn’t it? I’ve spent the past three years in mourning, and I know there will be more. But please, don’t hold that against me. I yearn for a different kind of love. One that’s not confined to paper or literary aspirations. I want to be a lover, not just a lyricist… sometimes. I want a tangible love that I can hold in my arms and feel in my heart every day.

Someone You Loved… I hope someone you love shouldn’t require so much paperwork, Baby Doll. But again, with all my extra time, there is a lot of it. Now you know why I would rather look at shapely Yabbos all day. Or dream that my Braxton is watching over me.

But I can write this all down. And what does it mean to you, love?

The critic says it’s a mess. My account hints that I need more paper. Every time you hand me something to read, Darling… Well, that’s rare. But being a parent with all our children’s drawings, dealing with grades, and deciding that they want to follow in my footsteps… with writing at least. I don’t want to be their dad on paper or with our DNA. I want to be their dad in every sense of the word, guiding, supporting, and loving them unconditionally. I must.

You, love? Well, you’ve always been more of a More Than Words type of woman. You’ve been my inspiration, strength, and reason to keep going. Writing about us would be enough to put all those books I mentioned to shame. And then there’s the studio, “selling” experiences, and several cosplays. Such love for my business.

Braxton, though, you and our family. Virgil. While I’m a paperboy. Virgil, Braxton Makes Paper

1241 Days Without B III, Day 682 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 359 ~Feeling Good Is A Responsibility~

WillLeave a comment

Money, Power, Women… Everything wouldn’t make me happy. Braxton couldn’t even do that. But he was better than most women. He made me want to be better. Why, it’s almost like being in love. Now it’s my “burden?” “Feeling Good Is A Responsibility”

Monday, June 24, 2024

Tale 359 ~Feeling Good Is A Responsibility~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… And those that aren’t, I don’t need to be reminded of. Like someone asking, how are you?

Give me my son back, and then we’ll talk. I mean, I haven’t washed Braxton’s bedding or favorite toy to this very day. I’ll need his DNA at some point. If this week works out. Oh! So I’m going to finish a book this week. Am I feeling okay, Madam. It’s been 1240 Days. And I continue to mourn my son’s euthanasia. Feeling Good? Oh No! The depth of my grief is the norm. And they say it’s no one’s responsibility to make you happy. It is yours. It’s mine…

So write the book and “go get the money, go get the money,” as the song goes. But that’s not living “my” purpose. Am I trying to sound like a motivational speech? How I wish.

But having money feels better.

Now, if I can’t get my son, Braxton, back, If I can’t feel the warm and fuzzies for little Virgil…

POWER! No one man should have all that power. And I don’t mean in a physical sense per se. Madam, there is literally another rule that talks about how money makes a man look. A man? Haven’t I been talking about manhood equating to fatherhood? And some of the men that I admire most… I don’t know if they have families of their own. Sigh.

When you spend the better part of the day looking up new adult starlets, you find out the men they’re with, too. To have a body like that? To make women like them, Madam… Uh…

Yearn, Yell, Yield… That’s power.

And Scarface said it best:

“In this country, you gotta make the money first. Then, when you get the money, you get the power. Then, when you get the power, then you get the women.”

I want to feel good, if only for a little while. But I need money to spend. And I am struggling to find the energy to stay awake today. But what wakes me up every day? Rather, how do I feel when I wake up in the morning? I check the foot of the bed for B. Then I check his bed. The longing for the past is a constant companion. My Braxton is gone!

And Virgil? Sometimes, he’s on ‘my’ bed. Other times, I have to set up the gate, and he sleeps in Braxton’s room. Which leaves me alone to what? I look for various distractions, like bigger and smaller Yabbos, to fill the void. I know. Eww!

But if I want to make the good feelings last… I must take responsibility. Had I done this before, I wouldn’t need any ACCEPTANCE. Braxton being gone? No! Never! But… Feeling Good Is A Responsibility.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1240 Days Without B III, Day 681 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 355 ~The Daily B, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Extra, Extra! Read all about it! I have “Too Much Time on My Hands,” but I won’t be reading the paper. And how many books do I have left that I haven’t read? There’s so much editing to do. And writing about my sons, uh son? “The Daily B, Virgil”

Thursday, June 20, 2024

Tale 355 ~The Daily B, Virgil~

1236 Days Without B III, Day 677 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Didn’t I speak to you a few hours ago? Thursday, June 13, 2024, around 10:20?

I have all the time in the world for you now, B III. Well… until 4:55 PM. Rise and shine? I’m not that lazy… yet. But I’m trying to get Virgil onto a schedule. And I’m not trying to criticize him. But you were so much easier when it came to outside time. Age? Experience? That’s not a criticism of you, either. I’d bring McD’s back so you going out…

Yeah, we’d share fries. Then you’d go take care of your business. And walking, Braxton. Again, it comes with age. You only wanted to chill with me in bed. All you needed was a mom, and we would have been golden. Golden fries, my gold, and golden curls. Uh, no.

I’m into brunettes, you know.

But it won’t be any of that for the next few weeks. I’ve been thinking about that for the past few hours since I got my new schedule. Effed. My walking papers? The Day Job.

Braxton, I should shut up talking like that. I don’t need that Juju in the universe. It’s why I never thought about you passing away, either. Again, bad Juju. But I’m hungry, with a heavy heart. And existing is hard. How I long for the days I could send you to your room, B III. Eww! And Virgil is hanging out on the bed again. You could tell Virgil off.

Remember, “That’s my spot,” “my daddy,” and “my life.” None of us listened, did we?

Virgil, your aunt, or me.

And then I talk to you on Thursdays. Please! I speak to you daily because I’m scared or not trying to be “skeevy.” Or I feel STUPID! You’re among the top ten things I think about, Braxton. On the Daily!

Hopefully, you have better things to do on The Rainbow Bridge, in Heaven, or wherever.

But what am I going to do next week and the week after? I could do what I promised, B.

I have all the time in the world to edit and finish one or two of my books—yours and mine. I can try something that would make me not feel bad sitting here on a daily basis, B. TRY!

Do I have a choice, being scared, stupid, and with sons? The Daily B, Virgil

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 354 ~We’ll B FREE, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

Juneteenth… First, let me explain that I’m just a black man. And no MAGA/GOP, that isn’t a sin. My sin lies in my son Braxton’s Euthanasia. I’ll never be free of my Grief. But, fear, bad dreams, my Olds, Day Job… FREEDOM! “We’ll B FREE, Virgil.”

Wednesday, June 19, 2024

Tale 354 ~We’ll B FREE, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And I don’t mean not keeping my promise to my son Braxton. That title sounded familiar, Inspector Echo.

FREEDOM is a significant word in my life, much like HAPPINESS or HOME. Yet, these words, these concepts, seem distant and intangible. They are mere symbols devoid of real meaning. They are like a cow’s mess, scattered and meaningless… BS

Inspector, you want a word that means anything. I can give you one, meaning everything.

Braxton. Braxton Barks Bradford. Son.

I’ve told the story of B III’s name, or at least my opinion. My Ma gave Braxton his name. Uh…

My son Braxton was named after Braxton P. Hartnabrig, a character from The Jamie Foxx Show. This character was a tall, light-skinned man with a ‘classy’ attitude. However, my son Braxton, a short, beige fluff ball, shares only his name and believes he’s superior to everyone. But he lacks the class. Ha! My brave boy.

Hence, his middle name Barks.

Now, I named Virgil after the Roman poet of the same name. Primarily because he led Dante through Hell itself. That’s another sin; I dragged Virgil down here with me.

Inspector as I speak on the sins against my sons, Braxton and Virgil. It would be remiss not to talk about the third sin that has brought us here today. And that is of FREEDOM.

Today is Juneteenth, a day of liberation and freedom long denied. So what about mine? I was “freed” from sleep because of a bad dream. I make bad financial decisions.

$139.68, that’s the exact amount of a PAYCHECK. And that’s from the last ‘good’ week. This week has been worse. The next one promises to be even more challenging. PAYCHECK, HAPPINESS, HOME, FREEDOM… These are just words, empty and meaningless. Yet, I continue to write.

Because aren’t I a writer? All words have meaning. And how else do I expect to be free, I ask!

How many hours for my last measly PAYCHECK? And at the same time, barely any hours this week. And if I had any cash, I could go on vacation for most of next week, too.

Write, Edit, Publish! That is the key to freedom, but did you see me yesterday? Inspector, you can’t say that I didn’t try. What? I didn’t try to edit one of “my” books.” My pants?

Well, I kept them on. I still have $12.00 on OnlyFans, but I need $20.00 for a payout. What’s next?

FREEDOM from everything… well, FEAR! Because Grief is going nowhere. Braxton. We’ll B FREE, Virgil

1235 Days Without B III, Day 676 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 353 ~B Preserves It, Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

A life worth remembering. To have lineage, a legacy, lots of money, and love… Braxton and I had each other. Never enough money, but there was love. As for ladies? Well, unlike Virgil, Braxton had “balls.” But saving his life? B Preserves It, Virgil

Tuesday, June 18, 2024

Tale 353 ~B Preserves It, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I love our family. I love what I do… NOW. Virgil is alright. But my love for you, my future wife, is beyond words. But what about my… existence? Sigh.

NO! I’d rather talk about my Braxton. Surprise, surprise! My son’s been gone 1234 days. And you know what I thought about as soon as we were finished? And again, Baby Doll, I’m sorry. As Norah Jones sang, “I don’t know why I didn’t come.” Well, I do know, love.

As I was getting a towel to dry you off after… I couldn’t help but notice Braxton’s bed, untouched, and his favorite toy still in the same spot. These items hold so much of him, his essence, his DNA. It’s a bittersweet reminder, my love.

When it comes to my firstborn son, I’ve said even though I didn’t pour the Bisquick. Braxton was/is my favorite Pancake. I still have some of Braxton’s food and medications.

My love, “Had I known how to save a life.”

My love, I find myself in a constant battle. I hold onto my grief for Braxton as if it’s the only way to keep him close. But in doing so, it feels like I’m also losing my love for you. It’s a painful paradox, one that I’m trying to navigate.

I’ve been talking a lot about having “Too Much Time on My Hands.” And with the summer months, I’m thawing out even more pain. And not just mine, Baby Girl. Do you remember the book “Lust” by Ker Dukey? It was about a former football star who lost his brother. Then there’s “40 Days and 40 Nights,” about the guy and his ex-girlfriend. Oh No!

Where am I taking this?

There are also three more of my favorite books:
The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson
A Different Alchemy by Chris Dietzel
The Island by Gary Paulsen

One man is a former adult star who can no longer perform. Another runs away from the world after the loss of his son. I REALLY relate to that one. The third camps out on an island, and his “girlfriend” says he’s changing. But what do all these titles have in common? I ask you.

Men who stop performing, playing, and preserving their legacies. Sunday was Father’s Day, and I’ll say it again. Fatherhood is the epitome of Manhood. And what is mine, I ask?

Being your husband. A good father to our children, even to Virgil. But I need your understanding and support to save myself in this. Somehow, Someway! B Preserves It, Virgil

1234 Days Without B III, Day 675 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 352 ~Even The Devil Gets Homesick~

WillLeave a comment

Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but “Nobody Wants To Die.” Wasn’t that why I was working hard at the Day Job? And what happened to my son. And maybe if I read enough to get smart enough to write enough, we’d find Heaven. Even The Devil Gets Homesick

Monday, June 17, 2024

Tale 352 ~Even The Devil Gets Homesick~

Three-Hundredth And Forty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Concepts, Ideas, Knowledge vs Belief? Just words like, better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.

Funny, I bring that up today. Although today isn’t today, it’s Thursday, June 13, 2024.

And I am afraid. You see how the days smoosh together. I’m scared every day. It’s by my doing, for the most part. I don’t Doublethink like some. I overthink! And why is that now?

Yes, Braxton is still gone, passed away, if I’m being nice about it. I don’t mean to sound cavalier about it, either. Madam, my son might have lived if I had weeks like this before.

So, it’s looking like a short week, and the next one will be shorter. I’m not going to be making anything. I abhor the Day Job, but there are three little words: I need money!

For me and for Virgil

And how about more books? Didn’t I mention myself writing one in my “conversation with Braxton?” I’ve got several. There are two I wrote for him. I love reading and writing… As long as it’s not about fur buddies meeting their ends. Why do I read those, hmm? They don’t make me feel better. And they only give me ideas on how to honor B.

Again, that takes money. And I’ll have plenty of time to think about it. But first, I’ll be worrying about the Day Job. Isn’t that what led to Braxton’s passing? Second, I’ll worry about getting in trouble with the day job, my dad, or the “D” in my pants. Third, there’s writing anything worthwhile, period. Don’t I miss it ever?

Yes! This explains why I was at the Dining Room table this morning. And I’m back in bed this afternoon. Because it’s hard not to be dirty. Did I say that? You’re not the Inspector.

But to be honest, what was Heaven? Where is Heaven? I swear, Madam, when I was reading the Day Job schedule and thinking I’d done something wrong… Joining B III?

No! Even on his last day, B wanted to come home with me. B III found his place with me. Heaven was lying with me as I read. Or it was sandwiched between his aunt and me. There’s my drooling over Cherry’s “shenanigans.” Sitting in the middle bed, “relaxed.” Reigning. Day Job’s not Heaven, but… Even The Devil Gets Homesick
“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1233 Days Without B III, Day 674 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 348 ~Virgil, B Good, Only…~

WillLeave a comment

When did I last call Virgil a Good Boy/Good Puppy? Didn’t he just “GO” outside? If only I got paid for a bodily function… Eww! But I did make 12 bucks on OnlyFans. And 40 as the employee of the month. That’s not good… “Virgil, B Good, Only”

Thursday, June 13, 2024

Tale 348 ~Virgil, B Good, Only…~

1229 Days Without B III, Day 670 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? These past few days, for me. To quote a famous dog owner… Good Grief! Braxton.

I need you now more than ever. Only that’s a lie. Tomorrow is coming, B. Then the next day. And the day after, and the day after that. I should have followed you, like always. But knowing how bad I am on the inside – Anger, Depression, Yabbos, etc. And the outside isn’t any better, B. Cameras, mirrors, my eyes…

Remember your bath times, Braxton? I started handing you over to the groomers, not wanting to be mad at you. Those were the good times, Braxton. I recently came across a video of one of those baths. I cried. It’s amazing how much can change in just a few days.

One Thursday morning, you stopped crying, and I figured you needed a check-up, B III.

Then, on a Sunday afternoon, I hear the word Euthanasia, and my Old Man asks: “Are you getting a new dog?” That’s your grandpa for you, B. Oh! And that BBQ I went to on Sunday. I swear you wouldn’t have tolerated your cousins. But free food B III. Ha!

That was the only good financial decision I’ve made in quite a while. Did you see what I did yesterday? Or instead, what I didn’t do. Eww! But still ten bucks for a girl that’s not Cherry. Not even close.

Only she won’t be painting the town red. And I need new books. Ok, no, I don’t, but B III. You know, better than most.

It was good when we lied together, and I read “appropriate” stuff, Braxton. It’s one of the reasons you are so bright. Reading was/is Heaven. But seeing it? No! That was no good at all. Then again, how would I know? You could be hugged up by a girl with a “pretty face, a firm backside, and big (Yabbos) like casaba melons.” Yes, that’s from Coming To America, but still…

Braxton, that would be the “Good Life,” wouldn’t it? But M Anime, Cherry, your “honorary” aunt. Your Daddy is not a good person, B. I’m a very sad one. But for how much longer? Virgil is trying. He’s even back to sleeping in the bed with me. Virgil sees a Bad Moon Rising. Maybe he is courageous. Me? My Mood: Depressing. Virgil, B Good, Only…

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

Always and Forever,
Your Dad