Tag: Honesty

Chronicle 133 ~So Who You B~

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Yeah, sometimes I’m too tired. Others I’m asking for help in the strangest of ways. If “This Dog’s Afterlife” is anything more than wishful thinking, then dogs learn how to read. So I keep writing to my lost boy. Or I should ask, “So Who You B.”

Thursday, November 11, 2021

Chronicle 133 ~So Who You B~

284 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If “This Dog’s Afterlife” is any indication, then I’m sure it’s freaking awesome. I hope

Santa, is that who I should be talking to? I was thinking more Morgan Freeman, aka Red. “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” well-inching closer Braxton. Awesome… Satan doesn’t think so, or that’s what I was thinking to myself when I held Chase the Saturday before last. I should stop thinking about that fur baby. Christmas present now? Soldier, steady on. But while I got soul, I’m not a soldier as the song goes, and yes, I know what day it is. It was yesterday, though, that was so exhausting. I’m all discombobulated. Like on any day since you’ve been gone, I’m trying to find myself again. 284 Days isn’t going to cut it. I’m only hoping that I can be as productive.

Writing? Is that what I’m doing. I’m a writer. I still remember you thought I was a doorman with your demands. At least you got me out of bed, B. Where am I right now? Wealth isn’t raining over me, but I did get paid today. If you were here, I wouldn’t ever let things get this bad. B, I’m looking at grilled cheese sandwiches, and as for your food? Women never came before you. Though I thought for sure, you would have gone home with your aunt. How about the way you led her to the bedroom? Southern Braxton… Have you changed at all? As I said before, with the book, I’m reading. If it’s one thing I know, it’s that you could fly.

Sinning prevents me from doing as such. Yes, your Daddy is still on his wanting to be a monk trip. At least I did do some pretty decent work, though… after. You had gone out. Survivor, or the Soul Survivor, that’s what I am now, and I don’t like it. But I better get used to it because come this Saturday I will still be alone. Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge? Savior, when I don’t look a thing like Jesus. Sorry about all the musical references. As I said, I’ve been working. But how could I see you again? Had I known how to save a life? That was the last song, promise. But my B with everything you have going on. So Who You B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 132 ~To B So Heavy-Handed~

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Well, that was a mess. The other day I noticed Braxton’s old pills bottles are fading with his name, and inside is plenty of dust. I’m getting down to crumbs with his treats. And my head is being crushed by Heaven falling down. To Be So Heavy-Handed.

Wednesday, November 10, 2021

Chronicle 132 ~To B So Heavy-Handed~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could produce the worst porn imaginable. Brock Lesnar and Rasputia. Didn’t get off…

Well, I did last night. It’s one of the reasons I’m so dirty, disgusted, and a bit dedicated for the next half hour, please. All thanks to a pair of English Yabbos (that I’ve never seen). Heavy the head that wears the crown? More like Heaven came crashing down hard. Anyway, my dream. I was wining and dining Brock, trying to get him to take Rasputia off my hands. I bought him a gun, and I took him to Buffalo Wild Wings. Hmm, I should take away the “wine and dine” part. I couldn’t even pay for the meal Inspector. Confession time, are you ready? Here at thirty-seven, I’ve never bought a woman dinner at a restaurant. I mean ever. My apologies to Braxton’s aunt.

Let me get even STUPIDER, Inspector Echo. While I can’t stand Brock Lesnar, he seems to be a staple in the wrestling community. As much as B III is a part of my life. Hell B was/is my life. And without him, what is life. As they say, ahem Life’s A Bitch, Echo. Could it have been Rowdy Roddy Piper? No, he’s dead, and I’m not scared of him. But Brock? If anything, I need my own Beast back because living with Rasputia. She’s life, in all its glory. Carolina Bound, M Anime, Cherry, will hate me for this, but ok, Echo the truth. Besides having big Yabbos, they have huge issues. I got them too (issues); that’s no secret. I can’t handle them all.

Only B III, Little B, so small, so tiny. No wonder I didn’t listen to him and put him down. Literally, and what a horrible thing to think, but what am I carrying around, Inspector? There isn’t that much cash. But what I do have, I throw at Tits and yet Echo not seeing any. What I do see is Will’s Willie. Only I haven’t been putting him up on Stuff and Thangs a lot. As far as what I’ve been putting into my belly these days? Crumbs, crushing nutrients. I wouldn’t subject another life to the shit I’m going through. Chase won’t be there… Anything I touch turns to dust or makes a big mess. So much for being light-hearted. To B So Heavy-Handed

283 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 131 ~Can’t We B Friends~

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Who’s your best friend? I’d like to say a pretty girl. More to the point, Braxton would say over my dead body, and here we are. Well, minus both girl and dog. There’s a lot of pretty girls in this city but only one Braxton. So Why Can’t We B Friends?

Tuesday, November 9, 2021

Chronicle 131 ~Can’t We B Friends~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but also a Boy as in, “that’s my boy.’ A Brother. A Better man, aka Daddy.

Ah yes, what about, husband? Before that Betrothed? If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been reading another book “This Dog’s Afterlife.” It has a couple losing a dog and another losing a kid but anyway. How about a Boyfriend? Good times.

Further back even, a Best friend, right? Nobody tells you how to be these things. If I were my father, I’d throw some money at it and consider myself a good man. These days I’m less and less of one I know. Of course, I failed way before now. Even more than the 282 Days since B III’s been gone. I’m tired. You put up with my ass when I had the old-day job. You survived my madness back then, but B III didn’t. I envy him every so often.

Some days like today. I should have stopped myself sooner. Working for people I hated, and it’s cost me the one I love. Then it’s a fucking domino effect; pardon my language. I’ve been down for so long, and I ain’t getting up any time soon. Well, then I’m disgusted. Getting “up?” There’s some things you don’t tell your friends. Keep it “In The Closet.” No, I don’t mean like that. I’ll entertain dark “passions” over hatred forever, baby girl. Impossible as it may seem. As my best friend lay dying, I had no idea who I was or what. So every single day, it’s like I’m living some sort of character and the real me? It’s Kill Bill and, wiggle your big toe Love.

A friend might tolerate all my pop culture references; a best friend would get them all. And then there was Braxton. He would be right here listening to “Ben,” “Would You Be There,” and “In The Closet,” thinking to himself. “Women ain’t nothing but trouble.” Braxton was/is the boy, as the kids say, “kept it 92 plus 8.” Oh, um, and you, my Baby Doll. You could ask anything of me, anything at all. Your wish is my command, but in this, my lost son. I know I must sound like a fool which explains why I don’t have many friends. If I did, though, I wouldn’t go around killing them. Where’s Braxton’s privilege there? That doggie in the window. Why Can’t We B Friends

282 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 130 ~Pain Should Never Be Hoarded~

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Too many damn sticky notes. Floating around me. Those yellow note pads are only one more thing that I’m hoarding for work. Humiliation, Hurt, a hunger for something more than this. But no, only pain. And I know… Pain Should Never Be Hoarded but

Monday, November 8, 2021

Chronicle 130 ~Pain Should Never Be Hoarded~

Two-Hundred And Thirteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’m the biggest victim in America. Woe is them and me, right. Oh, the pain…

Yeah, that ain’t true. As the song goes, “Mo Money Mo Problems.” What I wouldn’t give for such burdens. Ahem, my son’s life, light reminders, literally parts of my flesh. If I ever get that tattoo of him or decide to become a monk, hmm. Asking where I’ve been today. What on a Sunday evening, knowing that this week is going to suck? It’s torturous making money. Or at least the way that I go about it. Instead, I would choose to be a pimp, a man of prose, a pornographer, but we’ll get to that. Like everything else, sigh. Money is the root of all evil or the lack of it. I go back and forth. It’s strange how sins connect. Greed and Sloth.

I would say that I’m greedy with sleep, but what have I been doing all day? If I haven’t been on my belly sleeping, I’ve been grinding away. No, I don’t mean that in a good way Madam. I’ve worked on two galleries today, and neither one was Braxton’s. Earlier this morning, it was all about Yabbos or the complete lack thereof. Coins, cash. There are another few C words I could talk about, but neither one is polite conversation. Madam, the truth is, I hoard lust. If I had the money, it would all go right back there now. What about my boy? Braxton’s been gone 281 Days, and again where is his reminder, his tribute. Well, other than sitting on my nightstand, Madam.

So why not wrath? To roar, to rampage, to have revenge. It’s thoughts like that which let me know humanity. There is too much hate, misery, and pain. To quote another song, I’m just a “Sucker for Pain.” It’s what makes me the perfect sadist; I receive but choose to give. The only time I denied, despised, and became disgusted by pain was that of Braxton’s. Madam, the pain I’ve felt of losing my only begotten son… Should I chill with that religious reference, Madam? Anyway, that kind of pain nobody but me deserves. Masochism? No, I don’t enjoy being in pain. How about being broke, belittled, and Blue Balls? Where should the pain go, I ask. There’s nowhere. Yet, Pain Should Never Be Hoarded

281 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 129 ~Not To B Lazy~

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I hear the chime of my phone. A text… nope, I’ll go back to sleep. Some Yabbos, and I’m up. Braxton cried, and I ignored him. Oh, he’s on guard duty; I pick him up and let him sit at the foot of the bed. I’m too busy being lazy to live. Not To B Lazy

Sunday, November 7, 2021

Chronicle 129 ~Not To B Lazy~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and you’re lazy. An easier truth to accept than the obvious. Braxton is not coming back ever.

As the song goes, “It Doesn’t Matter.” Call my Braxton every day for meds. Say goodnight when you go to bed. All the “I love you B, I love you Braxton” phrases leave me nothing. Apparently, it’s the same with NaNoWriMo. You even had an extra hour to sleep this morning, and what did you do with it? Everything this morning went tits up, right? Dammit, it was more like your dick went up because of her tits. Hell, it will be twenty-four hrs since the last time… well. “No Nut November” never stood a chance against her, and you told her so. You should save your diamonds, cash because to Call me a LEGEND… While I’m on the subject, here’s a name, um, Vegas.

“But would you be able to rest?” ― Pepper Potts

  1. I AM Finishing Reading History Of Present Complaint
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 008 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Playing STUPID games, SPENDING on fantasies, and yet I wanted to SAVE a fur-baby. Is it any wonder that you, too, will forget about SIX Impossible Things? And this week? Braxton won’t be here to lay on your lap as you play another game. Tell yourself stories from Far Cry 5 to sleep. You won’t rest this week though, sleep sure with your Lazy Ass? He can’t be a good puppy, so you have to spend all your time with him or in the shower. Braxton can’t be a bad puppy, so you can ogle, “fancy” English Yabbos. Thanks, Cherry. And while you’re still thinking about Saturday. Last week, I said goodbye to Chase to find out he’s there and if he’s there this week.

  1. I AM Finishing Reading This Dog’s Afterlife 1
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Again you forgot about Six Impossible Things. More like you don’t care, considering we’re getting to the end of the year. Never forget that it is the first one without Braxton, well in January. Indifference towards him and your hatred of everyone didn’t kill him? Leave it to your Greed, Slothfulness, and Lust for sleep. There “Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked” as the song goes. That’s one more reason you can’t adopt Chase. That would be doing good. That would mean being the hero. Um, you can be the hero, be the damn hero. But no, you’ll only have enough to get to the Day Job. Avoid sign-changing if you can. I mean it. Love Braxton but not yourself. No, Not To B Lazy

“The thing is, Bob, it’s not that I’m lazy, it’s that I just don’t care.” ― Mike Judge (Office Space)

280 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 126 ~Just Be It Braxton~

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Nothing against Nike other than the expense. Too busy with my belly, some English boobs, books, and of course B III. No, I can’t Just Do It. Although if it meant my Day Job for the rest of my life? Why I don’t fear Hell but Happy Just Be It, Braxton.

Thursday, November 4, 2021

Chronicle 126 ~Just Be It Braxton~

277 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Or should I be asking, were you a good boy? It’s Heaven, Rainbow Bridge, whatever.

But then again, you were here… It’s the end of the spooky season, I know. And I did eat quite a few chocolate-covered almonds. My form of an exorcism, hmm B. But driving you away? I did that before, but let’s not talk about January 31st but here on Day 277. Hell, I didn’t get anything done. 3 things woke me up this morning, your picture and hoping for Cherry’s boobs. I’d swear you were haunting me if I didn’t notice the power had gone out. If only for a second. I found your PetSmart bandannas on the floor, but they could have slipped off, B. I’m looking for signs, Braxton. Last Saturday in particular. I’m a fucking traitor B III. Pardon my language, B.

What kind of monster am I? Well, I killed you, and people want me to stop saying that. Deaf ears, dead man. I wish I could return to being the zombie-like man I was afterward, B. Yesterday I was intent on becoming a ghost. All the white ceiling dust or my white shadow following behind me. I was in the air on all those ladders, and if I fell, Braxton. It wasn’t high enough to kill me, but sticker shock at the hospital. Which brings me to why I ain’t writing? I didn’t want to be a murderer, and I can’t stand liars. My NaNo novel? Even in that, Win William Bridgman wants to sleep. I didn’t make the girl a corpse but a robot.

Would you have liked to be a robot, like out of Alita: Battle Angel? I never showed you off when you were alive and since you’ve been gone. Every day now B III without fail. Today if I died and went straight to Hell because I trust I’m not going anywhere else. Would you come looking? You’d go What Dreams May Come. Don’t Braxton ever. Braxton, knowing how you listened to me before. Sad the first time you ever obeyed some orders, it took three needles. I’ll never be that man. Holding that fur-baby Saturday. Braxton, he got lucky I didn’t choose to bring him to your home. Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy. Regardless of Yabbos, happy I can’t Just Be It, Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 125 ~By The Ladder B~

WillLeave a comment

Up the ladder to the roof. Like the song. I didn’t get that high today. Days like this have me thinking about Jenny wanting to jump off that bridge in Forrest Gump. I don’t fear heights, but if I had gone flying through the air today? By The Ladder B

Wednesday, November 3, 2021

Chronicle 125 ~By The Ladder B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I know something about the corporate ladder. If you mean my Day Job… Fuck.

Pardon my French, Inspector. If I had fallen off a ladder today, that would have been the last word I would say. It would be more to the tune of “Thank You.” Falling’s a luxury. It takes far more courage to jump. Hell, I jump all the time, out of FEAR, a firm tone, a girl I want to fuck. If I had taken a few more bumps on the head today, I’d learn something. Only it’s as if I played a few rounds of Glass Stepping Stones from Squid Game. No matter where I put my feet today, every step sent me falling. But I kept climbing, why, Echo? The higher I go, the easier it would be to find Braxton. Isn’t that poetic?

Surprised I can even remember what that is. Aren’t I supposed to be on some incredible rise, writing? Between my unpublished poetry and NaNoWriMo, which I’ll be lying to. Only I haven’t been lying about my genuine desire. Yes, Inspector Echo, something else is rising, besides the dick in my pants. Let’s say that Pounds have Dollars beat for sure. OnlyFans girls would be P.O’ed at me. Climbing ladders for $12.00 per hr ain’t helping. Again, I was supposed to be somebody, a leader. Instead, I was followed by a puppy of the human variety all day. Look, I have issues. Understatement of the century but actual mental problems? Do people see me like him? A supervisor asked, could she buy me a Christmas gift.

As long as it doesn’t breathe and doesn’t remind me of the dead. It has to be about B III. In better days, every dollar made scaling those ladders would be for Braxton to eat. Inspector Echo, we are in the days of Humiliations Galore. As always, but more noticeable. I’m hanging all sorts of balls/ornaments on the ceiling. I’m wondering where my balls are. Oh yeah, I’m splashing the contents all over some girl attempting to see her Yabbos. Inspector, I’m having a ball instead of working on my novel. I mentioned NaNo’s lie. Echo, to be a better man and work all night like when Braxton was here. The latter man sucks compared to my former self. Braxton’s Daddy. By The Ladder B.

276 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 124 ~B Fixing That Soon~

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What makes a man? I’ve said before I thought it was women or their mammaries, to be specific. It could be money. I want to get away from my father, and what’s my age again? Or it could be mutts though B III was purebred. Love, B Fixing That Soon

Tuesday, November 2, 2021

Chronicle 124 ~B Fixing That Soon~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means when it comes to small stuff… The wi-fi and not my son. Man’s Priorities

Friend? Hell, Best Friend? For forever and a day, B III will be my son, but before all that. Yesterday I was reminded of when I first met him. My sister’s dog. It’s what B was, my sister’s dog. How was I to know what he would be? I wasn’t anybody. I’m only a man. Friend, Forever, Father. Did I even have any friends back then? Nope! Braxton fixed that. I talked a lot about “forever.” Well, no, I said the world was going to end, and B fixed that. As far as loving something, someone that wasn’t fixated on some Yabbos. Braxton fixed that. And so you wonder why I’m falling apart. Dealing with my father last week, I have to fix, pretend me.

Forever can’t get here fast enough. I’m tired of the stuff I have to do. Tiring myself in things that shouldn’t matter… NaNoWriMo. I won’t lie. When I first saw you, it was all about Paradise By the Dashboard Light. If you knew how much I wanted you then, now? Only I was a different man back then. You make me better, but Braxton made me whole. Now I sit here like Wilford Young, trying to figure out how to keep Snowpiercer running. Instead, I want to be Andre Layton. My Love, I have a thing for brunettes, Baby Girl. Braxton was/is one of a kind, as are you. Only I can’t have him back. Such a small part, yet all of them come together.

Fatherhood made me the man I am. I’m a Dad, ok. It’s why I’m still here and will be. Love. Now I don’t tell you much about my father other than finances. Strived for billions. Money, My Love, children need time, reason instead of terror, for someone to feel Love. Braxton never asked for a dime. But everything I did, I did to make sure he was ok. It’s the same with our children. Did I rely on him too much? We are supposed to be there for our children, not the other way around. But no one wakes up knowing how to be Dad. How to do that when Braxton was trial and error. We built each other; now repairing… B Fixing That Soon.

275 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 123 ~Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends~

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There ain’t no rest for the wicked as the song goes. Not for them or me. Only the good die young. Where’s B III? He was my baby even at 15. Old dogwise. Hell, I did believe he would outlive me… I had my reasons. Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends

Monday, November 1, 2021

Chronicle 123 ~Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends~

Two-Hundred And Twelfth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the man I’m looking at is the world’s enemy. Somethings will never change, Madam J.

Of course, right now, I’m scraping by. The fact that we’re speaking on a Wednesday afternoon in October (Time Travel) lets you know that It WASN’T A Good Day. It’s one thing to not have any friends at the Day Job. I don’t want any but being lied to, Madam. I’m sure that the manager lied to me about my paycheck and my responsibilities. Who knows, I could be wrong, but everyone there believes I’m STUPID anyway. It’s a disease. Not only STUPIDITY but how I find enemies. It’s like a fucking Hydra. One head drops dead. And two more rise. To think of all the times I got mad at Braxton for barking at nothing. No, he saw everything.

Well, not me. B’s murderer, his killer, the fucking Grim Reaper. People are getting sick of me saying that. Hell, I don’t blame them. I reached out to a few friends today (Wednesday). Braxton’s aunt said hello. Another is pretty injured, and one said nothing. That leaves me with a few choice words for the man in the mirror, well, one. “Yuck.” Remembering my motivations. Someone spoke about your best friend/worst enemy staring at you in the mirror. Well, Braxton was my best friend. My worst enemy lives on. If I had the guts to leave my Day Job, they would go on. B III would have died faster. Yet here I am, Madam repeating the words of Rick Grimes. “We Are The Walking Dead. Lived to become the villain.

Like father like son, right? If my father and I agree on anything. It’s the fact that I should plan on not outliving him. He’s over half my age, of course. Fuck I’m thirty-seven. Every E-Day is a failure. Oh yeah, today starts NaNoWriMo and NoFap. The Good, Bad, Ugly. Only Braxton isn’t here to sit under the table, keeping me focused. Hands meet keyboard. You don’t see any girlfriend around here making me break into “Baby I Love You.” Madam, you’re an imaginary one out of six, and I should be writing about “Bridgman.” Oh, what? I’m not writing about B III again. I outlived him, and my enemies are slothful. I’m the worst of them all, dear friend. Outlive Your Enemies, Not Friends

274 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 122 ~B Answered The Call~

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Today is for the monsters, but most of mine I’ll hear Monday during business hours. To think I hated my phone before because of the spammers, it’s real people, wanting to ruin my day, wanting me to adopt, to live up to my writing. B Answered The Call

Sunday, October 31, 2021

Chronicle 122 ~B Answered The Call~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means every phone call is an opportunity. Not for you, I’m afraid. Never for you fool.

At least the lady didn’t scoff at you yesterday. I swear if Chase’s life hadn’t been on the line… I would have walked out of there without another word. For Braxton, I put up with a lot of people’s shit. I wanted him to live. I hope that Chase lives, and he will. Correct answer. Like saying Good Morning, Happy Halloween. Hell, you didn’t speak to B III when you were feeling like this. It would take almost an hour and what time is it, 5:00 AM? I know you should be thanking me for my actions yesterday. I’ll thank you for surviving the week. One more reason I couldn’t bring that fur-baby here yesterday. Sounds like an excuse for not doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Dystopian Girls 2
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 008 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Is that why you’re so angry? Two out of six ain’t bad… well, it is, but anyway. Keep your hand off your “hose,” will you? That fire has to go somewhere. Evil prevails, like tonight. Only you won’t be answering the door. I hope you don’t have to answer the phone. And yes, I fucked up with that email yesterday. Remember, you’re no hero, dammit. NaNoWriMo is the only opportunity you should be concerning yourself with, and how will you use it? The hoes I know. Coming up with names like Nyx Amaya Griffin, SIGH. The call of your inner writer, or should I say monster. God knows you didn’t need to hear, best friend, daddy, or hero this morning. Any new, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading History Of Present Complaint
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 008 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Remember B. Always but I mean the fact that he would answer the call. I didn’t. Yesterday, how many times am I going to say it. And you’ll never see Chase again, you know that. To be fair, I can’t make the call either. I sat there for an hour, and I couldn’t face what I’d done. Well, I didn’t make a phone call for Street Tacos at B-Dubs. And to tell my Ma, ha? Now you’re living in fear because you’ll have to answer the call from your father. I talked to the animal rescue people. And there’s Braxton. His bark isn’t going away anytime soon. Because you are selfish, slothful, a sissy, um no but resisting Yabbos. Not Braxton, B Answered The Call

273 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will