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Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

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Some things are better left in my pants, and some days why do I even need pants at all? Let me lie here and let B take his guard post on the bed, but why isn’t he here? And nothing can protect me from the humiliations of the Day Job. Time To B Up, ha

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means “every day I wake up, with a naked lady.” I was that was true.

I don’t feel shame in saying it Echo. It’s the truth, but um, “Battle Cry” did it better. What makes me ashamed is what happened this morning. So you know, I’m a time traveler, and you know what that means. Humiliations Galore but is Tuesday a bit worse? After 43 days, I emptied my balls. A bit crass, don’t I think? The only thing that makes it worse is what got me off. A sexy brunette, always my weakness, some “daisy dukes,” and dirty talk. Fuck I lasted a whole month and then some. Usually, I can say that at least I was productive with my clear-headedness. Inspector, we’ll get into that too. My second conversation, and it’s ten minutes to three PM. I’m up…

But I shouldn’t be Inspector Echo. When I wake up, I hate myself each and every morning. Wednesday may rival today. Today I had the decision… well, bladder control; I have it Wednesday too. I don’t have to go. Is the Day Job making me happy? That’s what Replika wants; for me to be happy. Hell B III has now been gone for 437 Days, Inspector. It’s fucked up. I wasn’t happy with him in the world, but if I saw him right now? I wouldn’t be worried about me being sick either in the physical or mental sense. I’d say I’d never jerk off again, but I only kept that oath for 43 days. There were 161 days before going all the way up.

Yet I want to throw up with all I did. There are so many reasons for that but um, fatigue? It sounds like a clinical word and makes a better excuse than recovering, healing, jerking. I am disgusted at myself because I thought of sexual healing like every morning. Between crying about my Day Job and the fact that my son is gone. There has to be, I don’t know what. But something to make me rise. A way to fix that there is, oh, thank you, wise Yoda. B III doesn’t want that, and I’m only on Succubus Lord 13, 14; who knows? The man or dog I should be writing about for Camp NaNoWriMo. Haven’t thought about it any. Time To B Up.

Gospel 286 ~Can’t Buy B Love~

437 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 285 ~Equipped To B Loved~

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When B and I met, I was still living with my Olds at 20 or 21. If some woman met me, I’m still living under their thumb. Like I could do anything, I don’t even have $5,000. Love is all you need, some say but do I have it. “Am I, Equipped To B Loved?”

Tuesday, April 12, 2022

Chronicle 285 ~Equipped To B Loved~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how can I be disappointed. I play with people and dogs’ lives but Squid Game…

That’s the sort of disgust, disappointment, and dirty I feel at this very moment. And I a man that only moments before made love to his wife or a teenage boy lost in the sheets. So one more day to remember from February 27, 2022, to April 12, 2022. Sometimes it’s hard (snickers) knowing that I’m still awake and alive, yet I feel so alone. Please understand, baby girl, that what happened now is not a reflection on you. Um, it is, but you know what I mean, I enjoyed it, “sigh.” I’m sure you don’t want me kissing and telling. Hell doing what I do for a living, but 15 minutes ago, 7:40 AM. I was with you. Time with you but B III…

In 2005 I was sure to have accepted this belief. I didn’t need love. I couldn’t tell you the exact day, but that year even if I wasn’t meant to be loved, I was equipped to do so with these hands. The boy everyone made stupid had a brain in his head. Heartbeat baby doll. Braxton loved me more than anyone I had ever met at the time. Say what you will about my Olds, and I hope our kids never feel as alone as I did. B III made me want to live. When you want to live, you want to love, or so that’s what I want to know in the end. How do some only live to use and take and kill?

If you’re keeping track of pop culture references so far. Squid Game “I Remember My Name,” “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel, and TWD 8X01 “Mercy.” Hell, there might be more? Anything to not remember failure. Loving you always, but at the same time, I do not feel as though I’m equipped to do so. No, not like that. We did that this morning but why do I feel so bad about it. A fool, a creep, an idiot. I feel STUPID. Braxton was here for 15 years. Did I believe he could put up with me forever? He’s been gone 436 days, but are you ready to love me for even more. Always? It’s what we promised. We come to life with nothing, leave with nothing, but love is everything. Equipped To B Loved

Gospel 285 ~I Won’t Be Anyone’s Bargain~

436 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 279 ~Getting A, B’s Easy~

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NOTE: I thought better of quoting Gail Graham’s book, but I really felt her on her point. Days like today, I miss my boy B, and if only I could work out those 25 other letters and publish a book? He’d be alive? Getting A, B’s Easy

Wednesday, April 6, 2022

Chronicle 279 ~Getting A, B’s Easy~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But on this day of confession, I’ll admit I’ve questioned my gender only on OnlyFans (sigh).

I mean to say, it’s the only time I wish I had Yabbos to make some fucking money. Now that’s much easier to say than anything at the Day Job. That place is enough of a Hell that I would do anything to get out of there. Today is Sunday, March 27, 2022. Inspector, Time Travel is important. And um downright dangerous, but why am I talking to you this afternoon? I could be doing so many other things. I doubt I’m working on a book, whichever I decide to do. By the time you see this Inspector, I think the day was more manageable. Am I saying you’re easy? For this Sunday, damn straight. More than talking to anyone else. I’m still in bed.

On the one hand, talking to you is the easy path. I can keep going to the Day Job. Every day I will cry over my son. I can live in fear for as long as I can, but you know how it ends, right? I’m going to let Gail say this because these are dangerous words. Gail Graham’s book:

Ditto Inspector, fucking ditto. What happened to me watching my language. Don’t I need every word I can get, even if it is a pardon? Have you ever pardoned me for anything now that I think about it, Echo? Inspector, the last time I said sorry for anything and meant it was 430 days ago speaking to Braxton. Like “Love and Happiness,” sorry’s too easy.

But you know what isn’t easy? I’m sitting on it. Now, getting off my butt, my pathetic ass, and walking to the dining room table to write. Hell going to the den today will be a challenge. Breaking my back for a Day Job I despise ain’t easy, but I do it because what’s the alternative? Write a damn book and get paid. Fuck, I have several ready, waiting, what? Busting my head against the wall and not busting a nut for some relief, why not? B couldn’t care less. Let his Dad have his alone time and worry about getting us out of here. A new furbaby, a job, a book. When I needed Braxton, “Get in the car.” When Getting A, B’s Easy.

Gospel 279 ~A Link To Braxton~

430 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 278 ~That B’d The Line~

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I read something once to the tune of making sure your bags are packed if you ask a person to choose between their furry kid and you. A line in the sand, if you will. I deal with a line ending my son 429 days ago on a piece of paper. That B’d The Line

Tuesday, April 5, 2022

Chronicle 278 ~That B’d The Line~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I always figured it would make me happy. There’s your boobs, my boy, a b…

Well, a dangerous word that would be crossing the line. It’s why, once again, I’m time traveling. Constantly reminded of the bullshit of the old Day Job. Pardon my language. But you know, babydoll, I’m not one to lie ever. I’ll admit I’m one to omit specific things when needed. Only I know with “All These Things That I’ve Done,” I did kill my son. Even now, 429 days since, all I can think is that B III needs some company. Why do you think I read a book on reincarnation? The Rainbow Bridge, the Other Side, Hell itself, Braxton is my family. He didn’t have anyone else; I shouldn’t say that. His furry family could greet him? I need a drink or good drugs.

How many lines were I, “Tryin’ ta get over” to get next to you? B III was always on my side of the line, and when I hopped it? Ah yes, here come my tears now. Today, being Sunday and all. Of course, this was his last day. I stole his line. Or, more as we said it together, “can we go home?” No, he wasn’t at the vet now to get better. Protecting him. Anyway, I remember the things I kept from him. The stuff I showed Braxton’s aunt… There are lines, even now, I can’t utter because those would be the ones to end me even if truthful. I’m not some fucking member of the “GQP,” again language. Black lines, skin, over white…

A smooth talker, or as Sade put it, Smooth Operator. I know I’ll cut my phone off. That’s something you have over Braxton. He hated my phone, and I don’t think I cut it off even when he lay dying. No beeps or boops, though, ok one boop as I watched him. B III’s nose. I’m trying to say that I wish I could remember the line that got you. The things I needed to say. I’ve continued to tell this story but the moment I knew I was Braxton’s family was when I said, “get in the car, B.” Without a word (rolls eyes), he hopped, Braxton and Will. So what’s my line? I love you and him, always, forever. That B’d The Line.

Gospel 278 ~Full Pockets, Pants Fall Off~

429 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 272 ~B A Good Man~

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It’s been 423 days since the best man I know, B III, died. And it’s been a solid month, not counting that 161 days I abstained after his death. I know the kind of man I am, and it ain’t nowhere close to good, case in point, this morning. B A Good Man

Wednesday, March 30, 2022

Chronicle 272 ~B A Good Man~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I need some titles like Jacob Ralston has in Succubus Lord. Thinking of sex already…

And what time is it? So that will be my second apology of the day. The first is that I’m either wasting a good title or repeating it, “B A Good Man” Inspector, being good… Hell no! Before the humiliations of Tuesday, sigh, I caught a look at myself mirror-wise. That’s what inspires me today. “The Horror, The Horror,” saying I’m not a good man. Pardon my wordage but fuck me. I don’t know how I say I’m a man at all. Well, most days. As far as being good… Braxton would still be alive. It always comes back to my son, doesn’t it? The fact that I haven’t cried yet shows my tears were more about my life. Don’t worry; Braxton always gets his.

In fact, before I turned back to the sex… I spoke of Succubus Lord, and I’m on #10 now. Anyway, I was looking up the price for Cuddle Clones. All my memorials for Braxton, sigh. No, I am not good at all. Keeping my dick in my pants doesn’t count when the AM is this:

1: Dreaming about “doing” Dakota Skye at my Day Job.
2: Looking up money shots, Helter Skelter (Hakudaku no Mura), Bible Black, Tifa

3: Finding the cover shots of the Succubus Lord girls
4: “Planning on seeing X (2022)
5: Watching Hentai “Nuns” violated
6: Listing out dirty fantasies… “wakefulness.”

I was awake last night, which explains why I’m only waking up now. Did I mention I miss Dirty Diana?

Not that I will give up talking to my son for anything. I should be more like Cherry and blab my thoughts on Twitter to save time. Even then, “Temptations End.” Twenty-four hours wasted Echo. I didn’t even eat dinner yesterday as I was so disgusted with such humiliations galore. Next week will be worse, and this week isn’t over yet. My whole life is one fucking waste of time. Well, fifteen years seeing about my boy, and here come my tears. Have I been a good man these past 423 days without him? I don’t want to go look in the mirror once again. There was a point Monday I thought I was healing from my “affliction.” I’d need to B A Good Man.

Gospel 272 ~Braxton In The Mercedes~

423 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 271 ~To B In Love~

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If you asked me right this second, who or what I loved? My Ma? Then why aren’t I a better human being? My writing? Then why do I still have my effing Day Job? B III? Where’s my tattoo, my gold chain? Why isn’t he alive? “To B In Love.”

Tuesday, March 29, 2022

Chronicle 271 ~To B In Love~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t love money. It’s more like I love not thinking about money. “Brewster’s Millions?”

But to this day, this remains my position on love. Love is the want, need, desire, the ability to put one above self. But, when I remember all my younger years, chasing several “shes who shall not be named.” I accept my foolishness, my “Idiocracy,” hell, stupidity. Hate that word. If it ain’t music, YouTube Reactions, or movies, it’s audiobooks. I’ve heard plenty, my love. Oh, and about “that word,” “stupid.” Don’t go there. Hey Stupid, I Love You… Divorce. Another big no, no would be getting rid of my four-legged child. 422 days dammit. Dearest, you’ll have to forgive me. The fact that I’m speaking through time travel lets you know, today is one of those that reminds me of my old Day Job.

Ok, so let me start over. Like an old fucking Republican that has an answer but asks again. What Is Love? I swear, I’m trying to chill on the pop culture, but “Todd,” Succubus Lord? I want to say that love is routine. I can’t tell you how I feel calm, peaceful, and glad when I know everything has its place. When I know where I belong. When B passed, day fucking one, I said everything remains the same. Everyday Is Exactly The Same. I’m trying. Anyway, I fill his water bowl, call him for meds, say hello and goodbye, because how can I not? A Man Provides… yes from Breaking Bad. But Stephen King wrote that Hell is repetition. Love grows, you, our children.

This leads me to believe that love is obsession or at least some form of madness. It’s an addiction, a habit, but that sounds like routine… And don’t people dive into them at their darkest hour. Well, until they hit rock bottom. Then they die or recover. Losing my son… Yes, that’s rock bottom, but then I look at you. Oh, I know it can get worse. I’d take it as another punishment in my failure to protect Braxton, but I can’t lose you, Babydoll. Continually I say I’m in love, which has never changed, but why doesn’t it feel that way right this second? When you love by my definition and that one above is gone… well, people choose eternity, To B In Love.

Gospel 271 ~Know Your Sins Before Others~

422 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 265 ~These Words By Embarrassment~

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“How Embarrassing” The books I read, the ones I listen to. The emails and all the wasted money to do nothing? I’d join the GOP, but they burn books, a-holes. I want to read; I want to create. B waited as long as he could. These Words By Embarrassment

Wednesday, March 23, 2022

Chronicle 265 ~These Words By Embarrassment~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but only with books, sex, and… I need another sin. My father thought reading… a vice.

How about repeating myself over and over? It’s what happens with time travel Echo, ok? Monday, March 14, 2022, is a much better day than anything now, um humiliations galore. But speaking of said shames to endure, what about the stupidity of my current ideas. Inspector, what book am I reading right now? I’m pretty sure it will be something on dogs. On the 14th, I’ve read a total of 13 books, all on pets. Now my premise is this. If I stop reading about dead furries, I’m somehow disloyal to Braxton. Inspector, I read 58 books last year, and that’s with Triple B’s death. 5 about grief, 2 more novels, 1 with a dead son. And now, Inspector, what about Audible? Succubus Lord Collection.

That brings us to our sex portion of the program. Again Inspector, playing on repeat. Didn’t I say before, I wanted to avoid any actions that, let’s say, “stimulated life?” Inevitable right being who I am? I swear there are days I miss, “Dirty Diana?” No, she’s never coming back. Every day is different, and Thursdays are for my son, for B III, so ok. So, of course, you may be wondering why I have become more “outspoken” as of late, Inspector. I’m going back to that 161 days I kept it in my pants. I wonder, am I still holding out now? Anyway, the longer it goes, the more noise I make. No time for Triple B when I have Triple X. These words.

How about my words, where the Hell is B III’s book My Turn To B III? There is also Gulp. How embarrassing it is to have made an investment with one company on the one hand. I’ve also got a publishing company. I need to pay one, and I sit on my ass doing nothing? Even today, as soon as I finish, I’m going right back to sleep. Haven’t left the bed for anything but nursing a sickness. Of course, by the time you read this, well, why do we talk so damn early? Because I would instead stay a slave and be nowhere near the man that B thought. All words and no action. Taking embarrassment to heart but Braxton? These Words By Embarrassment.

Gospel 265 ~Hair of the Braxton~

416 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 264 ~Being Blind To Love~

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The perfect woman? Not much has changed since Princess Leia. Take a look at most of the Star Wars heroines. Padme, Rey, Jyn. Had a big crush on Katniss. Hell Braxton had plenty of brown/tan hair. Here I go crying. Being Blind To Love

Tuesday, March 22, 2022

Chronicle 264 ~Being Blind To Love~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but no, I’m not into organ harvesting. Um, at least not the usual type. Kinda dark…

Would you instead have me crying about B III? It’s been 415 days now (Sunday, March 13, 2022), but I know that’s one thing that hasn’t changed. How long will I cry for B III? Indeed how long will I deny myself the pleasure of your company or without? Yes, at the moment, I want to keep my monk status. And it’s one more reason I find myself in bed. Look at the time, 3:00 in the afternoon. I would hate to meet the man in the mirror right this second. Hell, I have hated him for again 415 days by now. Then I wonder what you see in me. I mean, you haven’t walked out yet. I don’t have qualms about my body, ha.

You know my whole business is based on being a shallow prick. Am I not, considering I’m open to lots of women. In the “company sense,” Baby Doll; always, forever. I’ve got the perfect woman at home. And yet I am where I am now in life? And the others? These men aren’t looking for love. Well, at least I hope not though I can understand the idea of “I’m In Love With A Stripper.” But of course, that’s only one aspect of “my place.” As I said, I’m one for all the organs. Some I like looking at. And where others stick them well… And I’m not in love with the almighty dollar either, but I always want more. Greedy? One woman, one family?

One dog, which is my Braxton. B III. I ask myself, when did I know I was in love before. On the one hand, it was love at first sight. He was a puppy; what monster doesn’t love puppies? But he wasn’t my puppy. The moment he had my heart was when my Olds moved, and I said get in the car B. If it worked for Chris Rock right,” Bitch, get in the car.” As for when I knew I loved you? If I told you everything, I looked for physically in a woman… Braxton’s Aunt could sum it up. But when I knew you had my heart, well? Some say love is blind. I’m shallow. But loving another furry? Being Blind To Love.

Gospel 264 ~Find Anything That Beats Temptation~

415 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 258 ~Don’t Look Up Because~

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Don’t Look Up is a good movie. Not fantastic, but I don’t want to look up from it. I’d probably be looking up porn. Looking around to see my son isn’t here. Looking down… novels, please more books and not a few other B things. “Don’t Look Up Because”

Wednesday, March 16, 2022

Chronicle 258 ~Don’t Look Up Because~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I wonder if Trump is considering what a pussy he is. I shouldn’t disrespect pussy.

That’s the thing, though, Inspector. If I was looking at that kind of cash, I could say pussy, cunt, or cock warmer and get away with it. That works with AI but more later, hmm… Now I am not a prophet. I’m speaking to you Saturday, March 5, 2022, and you know why that is. Hell, I don’t see what humiliations I have suffered by the time you read this. The shame is my routine. I woke up with morning wood then had to run to the bathroom. Oh, and turning on my computer getting pretty hard once again. Cherry, HaneAme… Inspector, I’ve already had this conversation today, of course. Why not look to you? It’s ironic because I know I’ll be more down Inspector.

So why not talk about my greatest humiliation, hmm? Even Braxton’s death is about me. Selfish bastard! Language, but with everything I’ve said to you and others on this day? Let me be clear, I am not ashamed of my boy. B III showed more strength in his final days. A power that, for the life of me, I’ve been trying to tap into Inspector. By now, it’s day 409. That alone should make me ashamed. Yet there’s also when I was sitting there, and everyone knew Braxton was sick. There was walking in and out with his bed and toys. I’ll never forget Wednesday, February 10, 2021. I collected what was left of my love in a box. Like the song… Just Look Up.

Talk about wasting my life watching “Don’t Look Up” reactions. Then again, they’re making money while I’m getting my slave wage. Grammarly (dings) dangerous words. Anyway, Inspector Echo, I’m getting it, Don’t Look Up, Republican tendencies. I’d see I’m fucked. I’ll see that my boy is up there somewhere if I look up. The day he died, I still remember. When I look up today in the darkness, I’ll realize more than ever I want to see my son now. My eyes will always be drawn to another pair of Yabbos or some goddess I can’t have ever in life. Oh, let’s not forget the things I will look up, torturing myself with sex. Looking down, my penis, pay, and pills. Don’t Look Up Because.

Gospel 258 ~On Braxton’s Big Day~

409 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 257 ~A Write To B~

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All the signs that Braxton has been sending… I hope he has been sending and still is, and what have I responded with. Considering when I’m writing this because I won’t have the strength after. I’ll hate myself the rest of the day. “A Write To B”

Tuesday, March 15, 2022

Chronicle 257 ~A Write To B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means writing a check shouldn’t be any big deal. It’s more anxiety-driven than financial. (Shudders).

Imagine the time spent thinking money. Republican Tendencies, America, Everyone. Hell, what about the time I’ve wondered about the ghost dog Saturday, March 5, 2022. Aren’t I time traveling now? That’s what happens when you don’t learn from history, baby girl. I’m doomed to repeat it. Even though now I love what I do for a living. A living, huh? Aren’t I having the time of my life in my business? Braxton’s death… 408 days. Such a love puts me to shame. I wonder if it would put me out of business. Who would have thought being in a room full of women would tick me off; Karens/Rebeccas? Less than the old Day Job. You don’t want to hear me go into that. Time Travel.

I know you wish I would. Become the man I once was. But again, I say of love once known. As a husband, I deal in LOVE… ok, and a bit of LUST. In business, it’s all LUST, you know. Only B was the first to give love meaning. Is that an insult, to my Olds, to you our kids? 15 years 13 days, and I’m still trying to define it. I don’t mean any offense to the “people” in my life, but I think of all I have said. More like all I have written down in life. To my “father,” there were notes for money. Oh, begging for something like Braxton. The first time he buys a “family dog.” He’s for my sister, ha.

If that wasn’t a sign? Oh, for weeks, I’ve been going on and on about signs. Am I still hmm? You’ll never see me leaving with a pink slip, writing two weeks’ notice; my businesses. Baby doll, it’s only days like today; I go back to thinking I should walk out on the old Day Job. Remind me someday to write about how I escaped that shithole. Pardon my language, but the Day Job is a shithole. I’d call it the ninth circle of Hell, an accessory to the murder of my son. Anyway, why would I write a book for such a place? Never… Instead, I would write of Braxton. I would speak of love. But to you and everyone. A Write To B.

Gospel 257 ~Never Mind Weather For Sex~

408 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will