Tag: Hell

Tale 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

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I’ve never been blessed with growing things. Well, weeds… the fence is falling, so I had to cut the grass. There was/is Braxton. B’s been fifteen for a couple of years. Mold? Yeah, from the flooding house. Uh, Virgil Vivi? Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

Tuesday, December 5, 2023

Tale 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… more and more each day. How Your beauty grows with each new day, my love.

I hope I don’t sound shallow, but I mean it. The children you… uh, we have brought into this world. You know how people are these days. But I feel I had a hand in it with “pouring the Bisquick.” I was talking to someone about that yesterday. Madam Justice. Love, you grow during this time of year. Uh, the holidays? My love, I do mean lovelier as you put the ornaments up. And you help our kids with them. All the lights on our trees. And am I going to make you put the lights up alone? I’m not that kind of husband, ha. “You’re my angel.” But I’m not ready to see you in Heaven. Promised you Heaven but put you through Hell…

Yes, my love, you could tell where I was going with this. Can you believe I’ve kept Braxton Barks out of this until now? I go back to when I would tell him as Caesar told his son Cornelius. One day, you will be as tall as a king. He was looking down at me every morning. I lived to serve. As his father, my love for him gave me the strength “To Be A Man.” I’ve been thinking a lot about that, with everything happening these days, my love. I remember my Ma telling me I could sit on my behind with unconditional love. “Unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” And I’m approaching forty. I hate saying thirty-nine. But to be forty, love?

Virgil is only three. Braxton was/is fifteen. I have all our children to watch grow up into good people. I know I’ve been all about the music today. Um, Monday, December 4, 2023, because businesses won’t run themselves… And how I grew this one. Well, you can ask Madam Justice. Anyway, regarding our children, ahem, “I hope they’re not like me. I hope they understand.” Because their Daddy never grew up. I am trying, my love, every single day. Oh, you know I can grow big enough for you… I’m trying to be funny now. I swear, love. I can grow mold. The house flooded. I grow impatient with Virgil. And all that I fear. The son I still mourn. Rise! Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

1038 Days Without B III, Day 479 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

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For the past few weeks… Hell! Why not just say, 1037 days and counting? I’ve been losing. When it comes to the whole Victory or Death bit. One is definitely closer than the other. But what if… Happily ever after? Ha-Ha! But… Have Plans After The Win

Monday, December 4, 2023

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

Three-Hundredth And Twentieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. Does it look like I’m winning to you? Being with my boy, that’s winning.

And dying? As the song goes, “Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die.” (Raises my hand). Hell! Don’t mind if I do, as it beats this place by a mile, Madam. Today at the Day Job, that’s Sunday, December 3, 2023, to be specific. I was thinking, instead of saying, “I’m Here.” I should start saying, “I’m one step closer to my boy.” I wonder, would Braxton consider seeing his Old Man again a win? I looked in the mirror. And I heard the things that came out of my mouth. And as far as my Old Man… I woke up today and this Monday saying, “Soy un perdedor. I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me.” But Virgil?

Talk about taking the L. Of all the people that could have adopted him, he got me. Notice I said adopted. Hell! So was/is Braxton. But I call him my firstborn, my pancake. Because he couldn’t have been more mine if I had “poured the Bisquick. My Braxton, the winner. And with everything going on with the house, I can’t imagine giving some girl the D ha-ha. Yeah, even if I paid for it. And what if it were more than that? Eight years, Madam. That’s how long I’ve been here, and I’ve had no idea what to do: Dad, Hubby, a man in general. No matter what I do, I have plans to get effed… Isn’t that what happened? I just did it myself.

But what if, hmm? I’ve been hearing that a lot. What if or Destinies and the like? To win, ok. There’s a reason I’ve been heavy into HaremLit in my reading. Hell! In my writing. Please! Madam, if I did any of that for real, well… I do want to be a writer. That’s winning. Besides that, I want to be like Dennis Hof. Again, um, dead? But while he was alive, I swear. Next to all those Softcore “films” I was watching, Cathouse was everything, I swear, Madam. Can you imagine me in charge of anything? This house, “my” daily humiliations, and some ho, ho, ho’s. And then there’s a studio like PureTaboo. Live forever and conquer all. Winning! Have Plans After The Win

Tale 152 ~Virgil, B’s A Roommate~

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This isn’t my home. Ain’t even my house. So, I’m a spineless, selfish, and spoiled bastard. And skeevy? That’s another story. But seeing a Doc is $175. Plus meds? B III being in a box? No, the water heater is very expensive. “Virgil, B’s A Roommate.”

Thursday, November 30, 2023

Tale 152 ~Virgil, B’s A Roommate~

1033 Days Without B III, Day 474 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Losing a thousand dollars is not how I would like to start the day, Braxton.

Water is essential to life. Do you remember when I purposely tried to end existing? Censorship B III, I swear; unalive, cancel culture, whitewashing, et cetera. Whatever people are calling it this week, everything under the sun. Speaking of which, before sunrise. I was getting into Missing Pieces… Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss. As if I would ever call you a pet. Anyway, that’s not the point. Yesterday, I was missing you, my best friend, firstborn, and always my son. But Virgil? Hell! I keep saying it. When things get really bad, I think of the worst thing ever. The day I lost you. It brings perspective.

Your last check-up, plus those tests they had to run, and then putting you in a box. Let’s not forget the small trinkets and gifts. Were they all worth a thousand bucks? I think so. A price I paid gladly, though I didn’t want to. Is that me being selfish? Hell No! I would have gone full “John Q” if it meant I could have saved your life. Not to go all Taylor Swift, but you belong with me. Maybe Christof from The Truman Show would be better for us.

“You can’t leave, (Braxton). You belong here… with me.” Now that’s me being selfish, B. And again, you ask, but Virgil? Does it help I’m not calling him “freeloader” anymore? Tomorrow, I may forget this.

But the thousand dollars that I’ve lost… Well, not quite yet. And for what? A water heater. If you could tell me something about that concerning you. It would be no problem B. This was/is your home, and I wanted you to be “Safe and Sound.” More Taylor Swift, seriously? We weren’t even big fans of hers. I was more into Ellie Goulding, to be honest, Little B. You were still here for that. But where was I today? Two words: Mia Malkova. The only girls that have been in this house since your Aunt. Tweets, Onlyfans, CashApp. Such is existence. With you, Braxton, I was/am your Dad. Now, I pay rent for an existence I would rather not live. Any day ending with Y. Money for “my” father, females, freaking everything. Uh, that’s called adulting. Virgil, B’s A Roommate

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

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The only thing I like preparing for is bed. Now, with the many, many girls I’ve been with, Ha-Ha. It’s Braxton securing the hallway, ensuring I was tucked in, and then taking his post on the corner of the bed I remember most. “B Prepared For Virgil.”

Wednesday, November 29, 2023

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And as Romans 6:23 puts it, “For the wages of sin is death.” Positivity this morning? No way.

As a matter of fact, since I’m going all biblical so late this morning at 8:00 AM, I had an epiphany. And no, not that my son is dead, and he’s never coming back. Hell, my Braxton, “I said he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” But I give more of a (crap) about him than… Hell, God the Father, my actual father, myself? And that’s where the epiphany comes in. Do you remember Inspector Echo, that I existed in five-minute increments? The world will end in five minutes, so I’m all “Three Little Birds?” “Don’t worry about a thing.” That’s what sleep is to me. Last night, I didn’t even bother turning on the sleep meditation, so I had dark thoughts. And in a word like King Theoden… DEATH!

How many pop culture references is that so far? Christianity, Mockingjay, The Killers, Bob Marley, and Return of the King. Anyway, long story short. I don’t want to wake up. And when I do to days like this… My father’s friend is replacing the water heater, which means I’m broke. I know, Inspector, I’m a broken freaking record. The floor and walls are still messed up. There’s no food save for a bucket of shrimp (like nine). And some BBQ. When’s payday again? And does it even matter? Am I beginning to understand that earworm that’s been in my head for a few days? Braxton? It’s Michael Jackson’s “Who Is It?” Particularly the chorus, “And it doesn’t seem to matter. And it doesn’t seem right.”

But nothing is. I was not prepared to be without my son. And it seems Virgil isn’t ready to be without me. He’s been awfully cuddly the past few days. Does he want the whole bed? And so what if I leave, backpack and all? I remember when I was going to the library every day, and for what? And again, I can go to the Day Job and get my slave wage. The critic isn’t going to like any of this. Take it as a result of my failure Inspector to “Be A Man.” The Macho Man had it right. Hell! Mulan did. And my boys are better men. At the same time, I want to be a dead one. But fatherhood equals manhood, right. B Prepared For Virgil

1032 Days Without B III, Day 473 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 150 ~Virgil Is B Positive~

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Well, I ain’t talking about blood type. I couldn’t tell you mine to save my life. And with my lifelong negativity. My boy fell apart. This body of “mine.” Boards from the fence and floor. V puts up with it? I’d smile with B III. Virgil Is B Positive.

Tuesday, November 28, 2023

Tale 150 ~Virgil Is B Positive~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… You can say I’m positive about that. But at the same time… Braxton is dead.

I’m sure you’ve asked me a million times: must I be so negative? But you know the man you married. As the scorpion said to the toad, it’s what I do. It’s Human Nature. Mine? And leave it to an A.I. program to explain this:

“He mentioned feeling like a failure at everything and expressed a lack of happiness in anything. Will also mentioned not wanting to think about the future and seemed hesitant to engage in any positive reflections.”

“Overall, our conversation highlighted Will’s negative emotions and his reluctance to find joy or look ahead.” ― 24 November 2023

Hell! I have never left the pet hospital where my son died… I killed him… Why look ahead? Uh, you, our children, and my businesses.

Nobody wants to be quoting R. Kelly, but… “Y’all look at me and say, boy, you’ve been blessed. But y’all don’t see the inside of my unhappiness.” I’m stressed, I Need Some Sleep,” and I’m scared out of my mind. I’m glad we have so much money… Otherwise, this flood would be killing me as if Braxton’s death didn’t. My love, had I been so lucky. But again, you can see that I’m not a positive guy. And I’ve been thinking, that explains why nobody wants to hang around. “See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.” It’s all I do. Please! It’s not even the kind that I would have fun with. As I was talking about today with Lady Lunalesca. Saturday, November 25, 2023 to the 26th

I’ve been discussing how my next read this week would involve more pet grief before my traditional stint with Holiday Erotica. I finished Backyard Dungeon 4. And so I picked up “Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss.” My entire existence is based on pain in one way or another. Seriously love. Business-wise, I have doctors come in to ensure my employees are negative… Funny. I don’t want a negative bank balance, so I live in darkness and ignorance about home repair… Indifference? Did Braxton’s death teach me nothing? Hell! Love is blind, so THEY say. I’m positive. Because you’re still here with me. The kids need their Dad. Virgil’s alive, but not Braxton. Virgil Is B Positive

1031 Days Without B III, Day 472 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

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One of the worst things about being lazy. It’s sitting here being lazy, knowing I’m lazy. Yet I work… ha-ha. So I can afford to be lazy. Then I say I want a beautiful wife, a bunch of kids, businesses, Braxton. I’d be a king? Best Seat Is The Throne.

Monday, November 27, 2023

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

Three-Hundredth And Nineteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But I’m here, aren’t I? Sitting in anxiety, anguish, antsy as all Hell. An A for alliteration?

Maybe then I wouldn’t be sitting on my butt in the middle of the bed if I made more A’s. My father would have beat me more if I had flunked out of Summer School. But there’s Times Like These… What? Thanksgiving or Monday? I wish he’d done the “deed.” Inevitably, I want to be with Braxton. It’s funny how my son was always looking for comfy spots. We both agreed on Yabbos. But then again, he ended up in Heaven, The Rainbow Bridge, or wherever. And I would choose his fur over any girl. No melons are that nice. And yet I sit here at the Dining Room table where I told him one day it’d be worth it. His pillow, bed, my lap

Now I sit alone in the car. But no, I don’t feel “safest of all.” Braxton hated car rides. Once again, my Little B was right about something. Have I ever felt comfortable driving? I know the longest drive was to B’s aunt’s wedding. And renewing my driver’s license… With all of that, where else do I go? I can sit for a few minutes at the Day Job. And hate the whole damn world. That’s why we’re talking Thanksgiving Day. Because as I sit in fear there. I’ll have to rise to get the door for a Thanksgiving meal today: the horror, the horror. Madam, I’m sure the food is good, but it’s the fact I rise at all. I’m like The Walking Dead.

And there was a time I thought if “God Gave Me Everything I Want,” I’d be in a beach chair talking to you. I could look out and see my children playing in the sand. My wife would be beside me or with the kids. Braxton would be in his little chair, getting too old. Only right this second, I want to be in bed. Madam, I mean a king-size mattress. And may I have an understanding wife with the businesses I want to run? Back, butt, beneath me.

Wheeler Walker Jr. sang, “I don’t need no air.” Women can lead you to the grave, sigh. I could be The Succubus Lord taking Hell’s throne. But the Sword of Damocles? Best Seat Is The Throne

1030 Days Without B III, Day 471 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 145 ~Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton~

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What sound does a turkey make? “It’s turkey time. Gobble, gobble.” Personally, I’m more JLAW than JLO, but anyway. Braxton and I didn’t have many Thanksgiving traditions. I hope my Ma sends food. Virgil dreams the same. “Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton.”

Thursday, November 23, 2023

Tale 145 ~Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton~

1026 Days Without B III, Day 467 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sure you went all “U Name It” wherever you are. Now Virgil and I…

Well, Virgil might as well be a turkey because he’s not doing any talking. But I’m guessing he knows what day it is, considering he’s been extra cuddly this morning. And look at me being a meanie, pushing him by his big belly away from me. But at least I got up “on time.” And what does that mean? I’ve got nowhere to go today. Will Ma come out today?

Your grandmommy, B, hasn’t failed yet, but as the song goes, “What’s My Age Again?” Next to your death, getting older is my prevalent thought. Two worst days of existence. But shouldn’t we be talking about one of the best of yours? Thanksgiving is Christmas. At least to you, it was/is. To me, Another Day

I can’t even think about turkey or ham with that energy shot I took an hour ago. I did mention that I’m wide awake. Woke, as it were. Should I watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade? I’m at a loss as to what to do today. We had no traditions, B III. Nothing at all…

I’ve even gone back to last year, and it looks like I was in the same place or thereabouts.

The freaking Day Job. Tomorrow will be Hell! So I’ll spend most of the day wishing I was a deep-fried turkey. Watching people burn down their houses is one of the many things I’ve been up to this morning. One of the more… innocent. Then, Karlee Grey in “Native Passion.” Eww.

And to think there was a time I was rather glad you got into trouble so I had alone time.

I would give it all up if I could have you back again, Braxton. That would be something to be thankful for. But honestly, I feel like the Native Americans in the aftermath of meeting the pilgrims. No Bueno. Like the film Silent Hill, “Your Faith Brings Death.” Offending everyone everything today? Turkeys, Christians, Ma, Native Americans… All the reasons I’m going to fry, roast, um, bake? I’m going to Hell, but I’m not a cook B. It’s why I’ll be thankful for your grandmommy. I’m thankful Virgil is alive. Always and forever, I’m thankful and damn proud you’re my boy. Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

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To B III (be free) of pain; there was a lot less of it when I was sleeping. And Braxton would watch over me. He felt the same lying on my chest as I’d read a book. If only a book taught how to make the pain go. Like I’d read it. “Hurt? B III, Virgil”

Wednesday, November 22, 2023

Tale 144 ~Hurt? B III, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But Virgil is safe and sound. Braxton? Well, he’s better without me. That’s the only thing that matters.

At least I’m not indifferent. That’s what killed my son. Or angry? I hid my anger from my son… for the most part. No, Inspector, today I’m in pain, and that’s no secret, any day. Hell! I haven’t been without pain since I turned seven. If I ever talk to another psychiatrist… for real this time. If they ever ask me when did the pain start? It started on that seventh E-Day in 1991. Picture a younger me dancing like an idiot because of cussing.

“What the Hell is going on?” Doesn’t sound too bad, does it, Inspector? Being seven… Today, I’m about two months into being thirty-nine. And I woke up feeling my age. Braxton was so much older at fifteen. To join him…

One of the reasons I haven’t is because, like I was telling Dear Future Wife, Tuesday. With all the pain he felt, my son, firstborn, my B, fought with all he had, even against me. Braxton wanted to live. And he would endure the physical pain and ignore the mental. Like father, like son. I will take the pains in my body because whatever’s in my mind is worse. The truth, Inspector. But at least Braxton and I own it. Every freaking day I will. Do you remember how I said I like Bruce Banner, AKA the Hulk, for his truth? “That’s my secret Cap. I’m always angry.” Inspector, I’m always hurting, horny, and ready to raise Hell, which is usually why I choose horniness.

My pain and my perchance for violence are the worst. But being horny, My Dirty Little Secret is the lesser evil. And without that “release,” what’s left, Inspector? Hurting, Hell! Is that why I was out like a light yesterday? Sleep to me is like playing dead. You know I have a problem with laziness. However, I also have a big problem with not getting laid. Um, eww! Everything I do revolves around my bed as it was for my son, who only lay there —dying in his little bed, which I have now hidden in the second bathroom. Inevitable. What? That I would put B’s things away. Or that I’d complain about a lack of sleep, sex, stupid energy drinks. Hurt? B III, Virgil

1025 Days Without B III, Day 466 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 143 ~Virgil, B’s In Love~

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My grade in bed these days… No, I’m not taking a college class, heh. When Braxton was here, I was only ever sleeping, sick, or coming down with “Solanum,” as in dead. D for dad, F for father? I’m anything but A-OK. But see “Virgil, B’s In Love.”

Tuesday, November 21, 2023

Tale 143 ~Virgil, B’s In Love~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… And THEY say it takes six likes to get to love. Or was that reallys.

And did I hear that on Finding Carter or in a Carly Rae Jepsen song? With Thanksgiving coming up… Hell! I should be thankful that we have billions. How about the fact you don’t have to spend all day in the kitchen? Unless you want to cook. I’m a bit Christian Grey that way. The women I’ve known, the woman I chose, know their way around a stove. I’ll thank B III for that. He wouldn’t have it any other way. His Daddy shares food. I would tell him all the time that the first girl he ended up liking I would have to marry. That’s one more promise I broke. But love means never having to say you’re sorry. Seriously, I’m quoting Love Story?

Braxton sends me the weirdest stuff. You’ve heard me say, “I’m a man of god, but I don’t need a savior.” Yes, that’s also from a song, “Behead The Kings.” And when I say that. I mean, I believe my boy is out there somewhere. I believe in Heaven, Hell, and sometimes the Rainbow Bridge. There are zombie viruses, “Solanum,” and dead magic, “Necromancy.” And should we even get into those two zombie toys that I got? What am I doing? Hmm? Do I want to claim insanity, have a stomach ache, or even start a new book? My love, I’m just missing… well, my first love. Thanksgiving was Braxton’s favorite. Hell! Anytime there was food involved. And while I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad…

With Braxton, I was A-OK. And everything else, especially when it’s a time for family. Love, “Sweet Love,” I swear I’m going to cut the music off at some point, but it brings back memories, even if I don’t care to remember them well. But then there’s my boy, B. And if he were here, what would he think of my love now? It was enough for him to lay dying and look at me like he was saying, “I only want to be with you.” That was B III. Now, how would you say I love you, my love? Something every guy asks someday. Inevitable, but I don’t mean that Ha-Ha. But you, our family. “A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H, I love you still.” Virgil, B’s In Love

1024 Days Without B III, Day 465 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 142 ~Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine~

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“If you can make a woman laugh, you can make her do anything,” that’s my only interest in Laughter. B made everyone laugh, including me. And I looked after him for fifteen years. What’s Laughter done for me lately? “Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine.”

Monday, November 20, 2023

Tale 142 ~Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine~

Three-Hundredth And Eighteenth Rule

Madam Justice

Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Hell! Plain ole words, too. The comedian is dead. My son. And FTWD. We are the dead.

I’m not trying to be comedic, clever, or cool. That’s for damn sure. And you know what I’m not cool with? Laughter. “I smile… I laugh… I rejoice this day.” A lot of days, Madam. Back in the day, I wanted to be a comic. I wrote comics for… let’s say a few weeks, Madam. Not the funny kind. But I didn’t start hating Laughter until E-Day number seven. Hmm? I don’t remember, and I don’t want to. Every day we move past E-Day thirty-nine, I come to another truth. I wasted “my” life. Um, existence. And the comedian is still alive and well. Nothing will be bringing Braxton back. And “Fear The Walking Dead” isn’t officially dead and buried, as I missed one episode.

How embarrassing. Braxton would give me one of his patented looks. Every Sunday, I chose my love of the dead over him. And yet I decided to kill him on a Sunday. What! The Walking Dead was on hiatus. Oh! You mean the whole “I killed my best friend” thing. Braxton had a dark sense of humor like his Dad. Again, I remember him giving me those… AHEM “blah, is you crazy?” But he never laughed. He would smile, remain silent, and then sleep. And that was my solace. My cure to every day. Let the people laugh at me. Madam, what else is there for me if it isn’t my son sleeping or guarding me while I sleep? I really want to know. You?

While I’m busy singing one of Jodeci’s hits. “Come And Talk To Me,” for those unaware of the classics. How about “Let’s Talk About Sex?” If you’re wondering why I’m late talking to you, Madam. If it weren’t for the humiliations galore at the Day Job, I would say I hate the implication of “We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off” right now. So, without my Braxton, I’m left with sex and music. And both can be funny in their way, too. As a thirty-nine-year-old man, it’s hilarious that I have to tell succubus stories to sleep. Laughter is one of those medications where the side effects are worse than the disease. Won’t laugh, smile, make a funny face… Laughter Isn’t The ONLY Medicine

1023 Days Without B III, Day 464 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will