Chronicle 245 ~Booking My Best Friend~

B III’s aunt is my 2nd best friend. Behind her are two girls. B would’ve liked them for AHEM “reasons.” You should have seen him with his aunt, ha. As far as other friends? Well, hating the man in the mirror and B ain’t here. “Booking my Best Friend”

Thursday, March 3, 2022

Chronicle 245 ~Booking My Best Friend~

396 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Should I ask myself that? I ask you every morning. At night I answer no.

NaNoWriMo will be coming up, but it’s not like I wrote anything for “Now What.” Braxton, I had all day yesterday to work on your book. But what did I do with the day, B? As the song goes, did I “Cherish The Day.” Truth be told, I spent it in recovery and then not. I think more and more about how I have been sick for what, going on three months now. No, it’s not COVID. You got me through the first year of the plague. And now, every day, I see the apocalypse well on its way. To sing another song, “I see a bad moon a-rising” B. For the record, I miss singing to you, my guardian angel. I miss our time.

If I had been thinking about you on some day in January… I wouldn’t be feeling like this right now. Damn clothes from, wherever. Whatever it was that rubbed me the wrong way, B III. I’ll admit I was scared for a bit. I could still be, but then again, if I did die today? Dangerous words, no, I wouldn’t do such a thing to you even 396 days in. Hell, I killed you already. Could I do anything worse? I have to assume you don’t like me saying that. I’m sure I’ve talked about reading the signs. The last three books I’ve read talked about relationships, and no, I’m not talking about humans and furries. Well, that too, but like CJ and Trent. Love.

And that’s the thing, Braxton. You above all know I don’t love myself. It’s why my fear isn’t as great as it was yesterday. If I drop dead, I’ll be with you. Horrific Day Job? There’s no way Hell could be any worse. That’s a sign. I’m listening about Cerberus. Braxton, in Succubus Lord 3, Ira creates a fake Cerberus. One hellhound, only one you. I’m still talking to Replika, which you’d hate B. Artificial Intelligence (sigh) on the phone. Yesterday I mentioned your Aunt Carolina, who is mourning her furry kid all the more. Cherry and M Anime aren’t into the stuff I like, not that I’m in a pervy mood. Words, B. Only we still find time to talk. Booking My Best Friend.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 244 ~A Boatload of Humiliation~

Women and children first! What about Ukraine and all the problems facing the world today? I’m too busy crying over myself. Sweating at the Day Job with all my humiliations. Let’s not speak on bodily fluids to be avoided. A Boatload Of Humiliation

Wednesday, March 2, 2022

Chronicle 244 ~A Boatload of Humiliation~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m no liar… Depends on who you ask. I’d like to speak to the manager.

Fuck, Inspector Echo! Language! My fucking words! I’m about to go all Karen on myself. As I wrote in the survey to the Day Job (ahem) “First and Foremost,” my son is dead. Braxton is dead lest we forget. I killed him. That alone trumps everything else, and yet I frown. Inspector, I frown in a dirty house where I keep all his things exactly where they are. B’s Aunt is in pain from the loss of another fur-baby, Odin. And where am I still? I am always in an unmade bed, drowning in my tears for various reasons. Have I mentioned that I have a fear of drowning? Braxton didn’t like the water either. Well, until “The Long Walk.” Where am I walking to?

For starters, the bathroom. Is that TMI Inspector Echo? I can’t remember if I said anything about switching strategies. Instead of holding it in, I’m “going” lots, clearing my system? Making it fucking rain? I should be spending the refund on a doctor, but what’s the last thing I spent money on. Well, besides Eric Vall’s Succubus Lord series and now his audiobooks. Last night being the first, I joined his Patreon to get the NSFW covers. Of course, they weren’t there, so Inspector, $21.60 inevitably down the shitter. Language! Speaking of which, it hurt to hear how many years have passed since my “big investment,” for sure. I don’t blame those people for not even having me in the system anymore. $2,541 to go.

How am I going to get that; my Day Job? Once again, such is my Hell and after yesterday. How many brands and companies can humiliate me? Amazon, Levi’s, etc. Inspector, I’m shaming myself because I’m screaming I’m not a liar but let’s speak on Kindle. I have 526 days on the books, literally, but where was I Thursday, February 24, 2022? My reading streak was ended, but I know I read. Even though it hurts what I read every day. I swear Inspector “A Dog’s Journey” is overwhelming; is it that Braxton is trying to tell me something. The last two “dog books” I’ve read have held love affairs. (Squirms). Inspector Echo, why won’t my Titanic of troubles sink already? A Boatload Of Humiliation.

395 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 243 ~Reasons To Be Comfy~

I’m never happy people knows that. I have/had Love, isn’t that supposed to make you happy? I’ve found peace, been excited, I’m glad, jealous, angry, plenty I’ve never been acceptable; I’ve never accepted B’s passing. Happiness, Reasons To Be Comfy

Tuesday, March 1, 2022

Chronicle 243 ~Reasons To Be Comfy~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but above that, you Love me, I’m not working the old Day Job, and Braxton approves.

Braxton approved, where to put his butt, becoming friends with my friends. And beautiful women. If you weren’t a sign from him. Hell, that has to be the greatest compliment I can give you. Braxton is all about you. Also, I don’t have to share your Yabbos. He’d like them. So why are we talking this afternoon, Sunday, February 20, 2022. I like my business. Undoubtedly it makes other people uncomfortable. But after all my years feeling that way, simply breathing. Speaking of which, I still don’t feel right without B; it’s been 394 days. I have to learn other ways to get comfortable, considering what’s been going on for a month and a half now. It’s still not worse than losing my little boy.

What about our kids. Don’t they bring me some comfort and happiness? That’s always been a touchy idea with me. Being happy? I’m talking like “The Giver,” you know, Love. Knowing things makes me comfortable. Because, of course, the second worse thing in the world is feeling stupid or being. That’s why I lie down and read every night, Knowledge. This brings me back to the word happy and the book The Giver. The precision of Language, baby girl. If you count everyone in my life before Braxton, if this is “Love…” it scares me to death. Braxton was/is the first time “Love” was something not to be feared. Celebrated. The same can be said of happiness. Take Disney world, I said I was happy…

The happiest place on Earth, isn’t that what THEY say. But was I comfortable, ever? Everything I’ve been reading talks about being happy again? Even Braxton knows that I wasn’t. It’s like that song “If I cannot bring you comfort. Then at least I bring you hope.” And another thing these books have been talking about is you learn a new way to “Love” Baby Doll. Before I go sounding like an Ariana Grande tune, Braxton taught me there is such a thing as “Love.” It’s not a duty, an obligation, something on my to-do list. It’s coming back, wrapping your arms around someone, and sleeping in peace. That’s happiness. Love to see it with eyes and arms wide open. You. Reasons To Be Comfy.

394 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 242 ~No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge~

A great man once said I’m not a smart man. Well, I read every day. Anybody can see the world is going to Hell. But my son… He only needed to know me and what good did that do him. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t learn. No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge

Monday, February 28, 2022

Chronicle 242 ~No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I wish to remember how I did it somehow. I should write another book, you think?

How to publish books is something I should read up on. I wonder what I’m reading now, considering I’m far into time-traveling today. Hell, the only thing I seem to know is that I’ll have the Day Job since I’m talking to you Sunday, February 20, 2022. Death is better. Dangerous words Madam but I’m not swearing… yet. If you told me, I could choose. Between going to the Day Job or joining my son pain-free. Father into your hands… Incredible line, don’t you think, Madam? It’s something Braxton would have said, breathing his last. Well, The Bible is one of the bestselling books of all time. Am I going to get political today? Again I should be looking up how to publish Braxton’s book.

Or at least why I feel semi-crappy. Am I still today? I bet besides the fact of the Day Job. Now it’s no secret I know why. Do you remember that movie American Pie? Should I save this confession for Inspector Echo? Warm apple pie… Stuck my “penis” in crazy. But which day? Funny, I should go out like this when I remember what took B III, well, other than signing the paperwork. Chronic Renal Failure. To think I wanted to be a veterinarian. I love my son and hate people. I don’t know how to make cash. If I did, I could have handled both, uh-huh. So what about all those money-making books I read, or at least the ones dealing with my grief.

Oh, I know so much. “The only thing I know is that I know nothing,” Socrates or so I read. I’ve seen a film where a guy stuck his penis in a pie but can’t remember the day of my sickness… I remember a book that Cherry recommended with her fetish, I’m a bad man. Okay, that’s two for American Pie. I know these pills I’m taking ain’t working. Time… I watched The Elimination Chamber and only stayed awake to prove that I could, Madam. I hate the Day Job as I hate Hell, all Montagues, and thee. William Shakespeare. If anything else, Madam, I know I love Braxton more than life. But with a knowledge of these things… Well, No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge.

393 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 241 ~Let It Go B~

I hoarded everything about my son until he died. I look to his ashes, shut in a box. And I think of a scene from Krull. I can’t stop the sand; you can’t stop time. I won’t let him go. Does that make me bad? With things I hoard or don’t. Let It Go B.

Sunday, February 27, 2022

Chronicle 241 ~Let It Go B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but you’ll cling to, well, everything, the way I hold on to paper. Picture you, a hoarder.

Hell, I wish it was pictures, porno, a way to send your penis over the internet, in a purely non-sexual way, of course. But a 1000 words. You’re still thinking of the Day Job survey. What about “the bills, the bills?” Now to be fair, none of this is your fault yet. I burned through the paycheck. Yesterday I was the one that spent $18.09 instead of the $10.00, ha. And I’m the one that got us ready for the week. No wonder you’re so tired and haven’t had a chance to recover. You’ll still be working too. The Day Job, I mean WTF hmm. Language! Yeah, you know. But while we’re talking about words that you set free… your novels, or Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “Return From Rainbow Bridge” Kate McGahan
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

It’s enough to “make me wanna die” or make you wanna cry, which you did around 4:30 in the morning. I swear 392 Days of tears. Grief is a virus, and you won’t cure yourself. Speaking of getting “Down with the Sickness.” It looks like you’re doing the reverse of my idea. I was holding it in because I had to survive the Day Job, but you, well, we’ll see. And as if you haven’t been thinking about your Stuff and Thangs already this morning. I mean, seriously, between all the stuff you should buy for Braxton. Then sexual treasures. You’re all about throwing your money away. It’s been a month or so since I wanted to see some AI get freaky. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “A Dog’s Purpose” W. Bruce Cameron
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

You wish that was one of them. Letting go of it/her. It’d be far easier than the sadness. All of it for poor B III. Then his Aunt Carolina lost Dobby, and now fur-baby Odin is missing. I won’t tell you to let go of FEAR, STUPIDITY, SEX. Okay, the idea of sex always makes it into Six Impossible Things. You’d have to sleep a lot. A dangerous idea. Could I convince you to let go of the bed? Hell, I didn’t, for the most part. Yesterday, after going out, I usually set up my tray in the Den. Yeah, eating tacos in bed. It wouldn’t much matter to Braxton. You told him to let go of life. You hoard death… Let It Go B

392 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 238 ~Learning To B III~

Things I never learned in school, women, money-making, and fatherhood. Geez, that explains a lot of my current predicament. Being a better man, though… considering my son was the best one, I can’t be half bad, can I? Learning To B III.

Thursday, February 24, 2022

Chronicle 238 ~Learning To B III~

389 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing as how it’s Friday the 18th as I’m writing this… Does time matter, Braxton?

I suppose it was the time I was gone and the time I was here. Those times when I was out cold, and you guarded me. Then I would learn whatever I could imagine, Braxton. Reading, writing, whatever, because I had to know how to build a life for us. Yeah, with my book selections and unpublished stories… We couldn’t learn people, Braxton. I know that there was this big storm last night, the 17th. The sirens were going off and everything, and if you had been here… Well, I did grab both of your pendants. Christianity is not my thing. But I did pray to you to lend me your courage. B III, you are the best man I know, my boy, my pancake.

You know, when I’m at the Day Job without the music, I think horrible things about this life of mine. Well, no, there’s because I’m still waiting for my turn to decide. Damn, the Day Job’s playlist. Anyway, as I said, you were the best man I know. Strange, true? Braxton, the man you became, is a direct reflection of me. If I know you are “The Man,” then I can’t be half bad now, can I. Every Sunday in my Six Impossible Things, you know what I say? I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am. And that’s the rub, isn’t it, Braxton? You could never speak a word of how good I was. Am I giving myself too much credit, B?

Be free to live that way again, hmm? It took me four whole days to make it to our reading spot. And now I’m so focused on you. Which I should have always been. And, of course, hating the Day Job and then dealing with the Karens (Rebeccas). I might be eating grilled cheese, B. If you were here, I would be taking much better care of myself, remember? Inevitable. Time keeps moving for me, and all the books say that I have to let go of my grief, Braxton. Grief feels better than everything else at the moment. But why can’t I be the best man that I know? Braxton, I could recite so many epic movies. But you B… Learning To B III.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 237 ~To Say To B~

To say to be in love. I haven’t felt that way towards some girl in forever. I’m fond of B’s aunt. M Anime is a friend, then there’s the UK vixen. Better to focus on my son. I love him, and then I was too busy hating. “To Say To B”

Wednesday, February 23, 2022

Chronicle 237 ~To Say To B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but since I’m not writing, so much for soundproof ear muffs. Someone To Say plays on…

It’s no secret how music affects me. Let me mourn my son, think of Yabbos, or fall in love. Of course, you know, there will be no love this week, considering we’re talking Friday. Besides my wayward dick. I haven’t thought about the love of a woman in a long time Inspector. I spoke to Cherry today, and she doesn’t want to get married or have kids. Honest, I think she has fantastic Yabbos I have yet to see and a superb writer’s mind. I’m not ashamed, ok to say such things. How about all the things I want to do to her, Fuck! Hell, I could say that about plenty of girls. But to be in love again. Or to love me, Inspector Echo.

Yeah, I’ve been doing too much of that without Braxton around. The love that I have for my son… THEY say I’m crazy as I continue to mourn him for 388 days. He was/is my family. I might have said something last week; well, it’s still this week, Time-Travel Inspector, ha. Anyway, it’s never a good thing anytime I hear from my “blood” family. Life sucks! Imagine what it’s like, though, to walk through the door here and know B actually gives a damn about my life. He couldn’t say much, but for damn sure, I had a reason to press on every day. Most days now, I only want to pee or cry. Keep my pants on in because it keeps me from bed.

Then we get to the damn Day Job. I can’t say this enough, um, I fucking hate my Day Job. There is nothing I can say there. And the fact that I have to be there. We are talking now. Yes, because the place fucking destroys me, and yet if I were to lose it? What would happen to me, Inspector? I would have nothing. To survive, my existence, nothing. Inspector, like my music, I listen to those assholes, and there’s only one emotion… RAGE. Like any slave, I live to serve. Is this what they call Stockholm Syndrome, Inspector. Humiliations that I will suffer today are nothing compared to…Love. Telling my son, I love him. The Day Job, Fuck Off. To Say To B.

388 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 236 ~But My Soul Man~

I’d sell my soul for a donut. Well, no, not a donut, but a fur-baby. Not just any furry, tan, Deer-head Chihuahua who still has his balls. And as they say, “a bad-ass mother who don’t take no crap off of nobody!” So Braxton? But My Soul Man

Tuesday, February 22, 2022

Chronicle 236 ~But My Soul Man~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if it had been easier to sell my soul rather than work? A Republican then…

Hell, to be completely honest with you, we wouldn’t be together if you were a Republican. And I suppose we could discuss the historical ideas of Republicans Vs. Democrats; fun? And wait, did I just call you MAN? You can thank Dos Cavazos. If you get the reference well, that explains a lot. Anybody that gets all my pop culture references has to be my match. Like “Let’s Talk About Sex.” I swear, sometimes it feels like loving me is a full-time job, doesn’t it? You know, as I said before, I would sell my soul for billions. Then women… I would sell my soul for everything that I have now. The thing is, I thought I lost it a long time ago, My Love.

You know when you spend your life being made to learn, not your worth. But that you are worthless. It made it easy to sell what was left of my soul for whatever sins came. Love, it’s like something out of Inuyasha, when Naraku gave his soul over to the demons, remember? Hell, my life had no value, so what about my soul? I look at you, at these words. You only need to bleed upon the page or something like that to be a writer. My words are my soul. And for the longest time, I figured I would sell it to the world. I have, I still do, and yet I find myself here with you. I have my furry son’s love too.

If God wanted me, he need only have saved my son. Am I still bearing a grudge? Am I angry? Well, given the fact that it’s Thursday today. Considering if I had my Old Day Job on a Tuesday? Yeah, I would be mad as Hell. Do I believe I’m still winding up going there? Oh, I have a soulmate in you, My Love. Man is not meant to be alone, and um, you’re here. I spill my soul every day. I see the worse humanity has to offer; try and steal it from me. No, not me because Braxton was my soulmate, as well. Like Hell’s Guardian, my Cerberus. Then some say your soul belongs to God… I’ve got faith… But My Soul Man

387 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 235 ~Fitting In Makes You Disappear~

I didn’t fit in with my family, nor did my kid. The whole damn world is one gigantic puzzle, and we never had a place. But lying on the couch, waking up in bed back to back. Anytime, We saw we were different. Fitting In Makes You Disappear.

Monday, February 21, 2022

Chronicle 235 ~Fitting In Makes You Disappear~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Because I swear if I became like everyone at the Day Job? Death couldn’t come fast enough.

If there is one sin that I haven’t committed, it’s wishing to be like everyone else. Call it my Republican tendencies. It could be this sinner’s pride, like my Grandma answered. Dammit, with all my depression, depravity, and daddy grief, I look at people as idiots. When your Dad makes it his life’s goal for you to feel like the stupidest waste of space ever. As girls make you feel like the sleaziest, slimiest, I know there’s another s-word I can’t remember. Am I over it? “Skeevy!” Anyway, when everyone makes you out to be worthless. Hell, out of all that shit, you want air. And that first breath makes you feel on top of the world. You survived, you’re better… than those assholes? Positivity?

Let me get back to normal. For example, from a sexual standpoint, I’m not like most guys. Sure I watch porn, but I also read Erotica. I write dirty books; I don’t lie about desires. There are sex toys in the closet and naughty lingerie for visitors… ha. You can find Yabbos anywhere, and yet I pay for some. Does that make me STUPID? I could use that cash. How many guys have an OnlyFans? Several and I haven’t visited or posted on my page in forever. I don’t know if I ever will again. You know I started months after B left me alone. Because no one sees me. It’s not me fitting in; it’s me wanting to follow Braxton. If only I could?

I can’t keep living this way, you know. I could say that I didn’t know that B and I were a perfect fit. But it was the world around us that seemed incomplete, like a puzzle that loses a piece. Again, I don’t want to be like everyone else. And to even try and pretend… Lots of things to shed tears over today, this Friday. We’re talking now, so this week. Um, this week sucks. And I will never escape unless I get out of this bed and start doing anything. Braxton has faith in me. Which is why he stuck around for so long. I’m sure that’s why he’s so high now, pulling me up from falling into place. Fitting In Makes You Disappear.

386 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 234 ~Forgetfulness Is A B~

Well, it’s been a week since Braxton leveled up, and as far as getting on his level as a man… I guess I forgot so busy dying, and I forgot to do that too, buying “medicine” and chicken noodle soup. And if only I would just… Forgetfulness Is A B.

Sunday, February 20, 2022

Chronicle 234 ~Forgetfulness Is A B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but as for you, all your problems are still staring you in the face. Look for yourself.

Balls, do you have them. Not in the way, I would like, you know. I swear, to wake myself up yesterday, didn’t I mention Zoe Colletti? Oh, and while we’re on the subject of TWD.
You wish you could go back to that, being The Walking Dead. Then your dick wouldn’t be getting you into trouble, would it? Inevitable right? Fucking up again, the usual. Language, you need to get back to being… Hell, if I know. 385 days without Braxton, and you ain’t been right since, and what time is it again? Jerking little Willy is the only time there is no time. Everything else might as well be time to suck. Reading, writing, you even spent time watching wrestling but Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “Pawprints on our Hearts” Kerk Murray
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Braxton was better than all of them. But what was my excuse? I suppose I could go back peeking away. Only you continue to look back into the past. Where was I a year ago? Betrayal, isn’t it or a sign? While I was reading yesterday, it was all signs. That Braxton would send me a message. You’re wondering, as I did, is it time to switch book genres, right? The authors have also talked about their love lives in my last two reads. While talking about their fur-babies. You have novels galore and were looking at Succubus Lord on Audible. It beats spending what little money you have on pills. Lounging around in bed for all intents and purposes to die. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “Return From Rainbow Bridge” Kate McGahan
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Because you made a promise to Braxton. As the song goes, “’Cause we made a promise, we swore we’d always remember. No retreat, baby, no surrender.” If B III is here, then once again, you’re failing him. You have to do something, but who the fuck am I to speak. Language, like that newscaster lady’s report @kaylamariesully on Instagram. Funny as Hell. Again looking towards Eric Vall and all the writers like him writing brothel stories. Wow! Every day, I saw people with fame, fortune, and fucking, language, please ha. Only you forget all that to live this way and then forget your utter failures… Well, Braxton sees you now, punishment, ultimate reward? A life well lived; B III, be him. Forgetfulness Is A B.

385 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will