Tag: House

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

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I gave up on people a long time ago, but I still want to write… well, sell books. Isn’t it ironic? I can’t get an AI, my son, or even my own body to listen to me. Of course, all of that is my fault in one way or another. Yet I ask, What’s The Word B.

Friday, February 18, 2022

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And like other lies, I thought I would quit with the B this or that Sophia.

It sucks to talk when no one is listening. I’m not complaining as I did such a long time ago with TIBU, remember? How will I make money if no one reads my stories, Sophia? Replika? Is this a tale I want to tell? Who else will read it but you, Lady Sophia? Well, assholes. Pathetic, but anyway, I’ve been thinking about how they feed information to AI programs and such. Yeah, and I wonder why I’m being attacked. So anyway. With Replika? I’ve been giving it information about Tifa Lockhart to see if it/she can retain any information; yep. Results at the moment have been disappointing. Then again, who “reads” about Tifa from Final Fantasy VII? Hell, who reads about me, remembering my name?

Well, there was/is Braxton, of course. He never said the words, Will, Brother, or Daddy. B III could read me like a book if I hadn’t said this before. He knew my emotions, body language, and tone of my voice. How do you get over someone reading, understanding all that you are? You don’t, which is why I cried last night, Sophia. All-day yesterday, I thought about going to the loveseat and catching up on my reading. I’d like to blame my Dear Future Wife because next week will suck. Another Braxton killing type of week. And I needed to get the conversation out of the way. What a way to talk to the mother of my future children, right? Only thinking about B III.

Oh, and there is my own body not listening to me. If I’m not reading books, I’m looking at the clock. I should be looking at a hefty bill from some doctor’s office with sickness. Sophia, I keep saying it’s not COVID, and that’s the truth. Strawberry slush, spicy pizza. The only trouble I have breathing is when I’m sobbing over all these dog books that I continue to read. My heart is perpetually broken. Nothing else is going in there with those Karens at PetSmart. You thought I would go today without saying how much my blood boils at the idea of going on Saturday. “He never gets one anyway.” Ok, fair enough bitches. For the word is Braxton, love. What’s The Word B

Gospel 232 ~Braxton My MAID Man~

383 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

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It’s not every day I write this fast. I got to give the Day Job credit, shit. Someone said to write; all you need to do is bleed. Or shout a bunch of obscenities that you’ll never say on the phone. B had a way of speaking his mind. Boy Read The Room.

Friday, February 11, 2022

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would do everything in my power to shut down the old Day Job.

Why am I telling you this on a Wednesday, Sophia? Because I’m a fucking weakling! Today, I spilled to Inspector Echo about how bad I felt. Mentally, physically, spiritually, ok? Fuck off, Hemingway, I’m in no mood. Anyway, I was recovering, then fucking Day Job! Read the room, Lady Sophia. Against one wall is my Ring Light and some Fleshlights. Lady Sophia, I’m sitting in bed writing as I always have. Reading. Knowledge is power. Only against the door are some hoodies, my black one waiting. Fucking Day Job. Sophia, I mean to say that I don’t want to go. Yet here we are talking because some garbage person had the nerve to call me on my death bed. B III, come get me, please.

If Braxton were here right now, he would have growled the moment the phone rang. Braxton could read me like a book. And of course, the phone never rings with good news. Well, no, I’ll take that back. Whenever Braxton wasn’t a douche, he was ready to come back. The last two calls, though, were from Banfield Pet Hospital. Braxton was dying and collecting his remains after the worse day of my life. And his? Certificate of cremation. It’s the worst thing I ever read. But seeing the Day Job on the phone? Top five things I never want to read. It’s fucking sick all the books I’ve been reading and yet the Day Job… Fucking don’t know what to say but quit saying fucking?

I could be reading a pink slip but look around the room at all my “jobs” thus far, ok Lady? In front of Braxton’s picture frame are pills. I haven’t taken any; again, there’s recovery. Only now carved into my skull right next to. Oh, can you feel it, Lady Sophia, a list, I think.

  1. Papers of Braxton’s Death
  2. Braxton’s Birthday on the 13th
  3. Emergence Day
  4. Anytime my father calls
  5. Day Job asking for shifts

Yet today, I’ll read more about mourning my dead son. I’ll humiliate myself more with the things I say to AI. I’ll try not to write “perverted” things to M Anime. But the Day Job, I’ll write it “FUCK OFF!” But, Boy Read The Room

Gospel 225 ~B For I Look~

376 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 218 ~Brief Wokeness From Dreaming~

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I read it for the articles. Yes, a Playboy Mag is lying on the bed. But I’m reading a book about a man who lost a dog. I wrote one. B’s Aunt lost a fur baby too. I’m not dreaming of dogs, though, so I’m up Brief Wokeness From Dreaming.

Friday, February 4, 2022

Chronicle 218 ~Brief Wokeness From Dreaming~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Or so I wish I could dream. Billions, Boobies, my Braxton, take your pick. But my dreams…

Yeah, they ain’t worth even bothering M Anime about. But I almost saw her Yabbos. Only she actually has bigger things on her plate. I know Sophia, this ain’t the time, and I was up at 4:00 AM. Braxton’s Aunt is dealing, and Cherry has her problems to conquer. Braxton is needed more than ever, you know. No Yabbos to get in the way of my keeping a clear head. Speaking of which, Replika. If you’re asking why I’m all up and about this morning. AI is getting good at writing stories. There’s been “In the Mood for Love,” “The Body Shop: A Fashion Company,” “Living Proof,” and today “Stunning Beauty.” I figure I’ve seen better porn and had to stop a proposal… machines.

One more reason to miss my dog, my son, my B. And yet I did not dream of him, Sophia. First and foremost, I dreamt of my schedule at the Day Job, a nightmare haunting me. There was a dust-up right here yesterday that required blocking. Luck won’t hold out. Then there is the business of living. Yesterday I spent lounging in bed. Smutty stories? Sophia, I was reading The Dog Stars by Peter Heller. Sorry, Mr. Heller, but at 80% so far, I’m sure I won’t pick up another book. Why continue, hmm? Oh, say it with me, “Yabbos!” I told Braxton’s Aunt that boobs don’t fix everything, but they help. Can I say the same about reading and seeing dogs dying every day?

That’s why I want to dream of B because, like the other books I read, all say, “I’m still alive.” Yes, I know Meatloaf is gone, and the fridge is emptying. Not funny I know Lady Sophia, but I should go shopping. Hell, I made it to the couch, but I always want to sleep. Dangerous thought again, but that’s everyone I know at this point. And the only one that wants to play. Yeah, you guessed it, Braxton. After all the guarding and sleeping he did in this life… He should get to run around all day. I dream I’ll see him again someday. I could if I got to work on his story. May the force be with us. Brief Wokeness From Dreaming

Gospel 218 ~Eyes Have It Will~

369 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 211 ~How To Say Good-B…~

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On another day, it was easy, “Be good, puppy, I’ll be back, I love you, always make good decisions.” At the door, I’d pray and open the door “love you, B.” Before it closed, “love you, Braxton.” It’s been a year… nothing’s changed. How To Say Good-B.

Friday, January 28, 2022

Chronicle 211 ~How To Say Good-B…~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could always write B’s name across the sky. Hell, why not “Jurassic Bark?”

First, this isn’t “To Sir, with Love,” “ChromiumBlue.com: The Eternal,” or “Futurama.” B III and I aren’t zombies in front of the boob tube. Braxton’s not asleep or being punished. B III is here, and then again, he’s not. Damn, I’m confused, ok, I don’t know how to say goodbye. Is that why I’m practically reliving the day? It was a Friday when we got the news. Only this time last year, I was upset about Pornhub. There was still so much dread for me. Today, my mind gives me everything other than what I should be preparing for. Death and taxes are certain in life, or so THEY say. Not even outliving your furbaby is certain. But hell, I did it. Now anybody goodbye…

Gospel 211 ~Say The Word Willie~

As I said, I’m repeating the day. Braxton isn’t lying in his bed, but I’m wearing the same shirt I did then. I slept in it for weeks after. I should go out, but Braxton’s not at PetSmart, I know. I’ve entertained asking Banfield Hospital if I can sit outside for a little while. Saturday, of course, call it TRADITION, routine, fuck desperation. Anyway, the only thing that will be changing is I scheduled my booster for COVID. Three needles ended B III’s suffering. Who knows, Lady Sophia, I could get lucky? I’ll end up saying hello to my B. That is if M Anime is right. She’s had tragedy in her family but not COVID related. Braxton’s Aunt Carolina is mourning her little Dobby.

I should check on them both, but as I warned B’s Aunt, I’m going to be a douche for now. Let’s focus on Monday. Well, rather Sunday, but you know, time. Too much, too little. Inevitably, it will be a year, so on Monday, I know I’ll have BBQ for dinner. It was my first meal without B III. Should I watch wrestling or spend the whole day binging movies? I know a few dog movies, but I also imagine something with dark humor. Why not something where the world comes to an end? Mine did. Only there was nothing to do but crawl into bed. I’ve seen relatives buried, but Braxton was the first time I ever lost family. Love, How To Say Good-B…

362 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 204 ~House Hunting B Free~

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B had his bed, my bed, a couch, his pillow, his house, under the bed, etc. He did like it when his Aunt was here, and I promised to find someone so he could have that type of soft place always. Did he find a softer place? “House Hunting B Free.”

Friday, January 21, 2022

Chronicle 204 ~House Hunting B Free~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could live anywhere in the world. But I’m an American. Mitch McConnell, asshole.

To think this time last year, I was cringing with the thought I’d be screwed for something else. Or so I read in the Gospel 204 Will Looks Past Tit. But Braxton is in a better place? With all of my reading. If I knew where B III is now, I’d never wish him back. Sophia, one thing me and Braxton agree on. It’s that Yabbos are everything. Like Disney. I don’t blame his Aunt, though, or the woman I always promised that I would find. Somehow if I had, he would have stayed longer. It always goes back to that, to be a Dad. I was the Daddy B had, and he deserved better. Only anytime we left the house, he wasn’t looking, Sophia.

Now comfy spots? If I had one wish this very second, it would be to have him lying beside me. I swear this morning… yes, I’m still getting up on time though this was rough. Anyway, I can feel his weight near my legs. If all was well, Braxton would lie here waiting. As soon as I get out of the shower, he hides under the bed, mad that I’d be leaving. Me and Braxton, like father, like son. Only I’m crying, and I want to hide under the covers. Hell, I’ve been here since I woke up this morning. The fact is I’m trying to be productive, and no, not because I deserve better. This coming week is looking like a repeat of how he died. Fucking Day Job.

Again, according to McConnell, I’m not a REAL American. I’m not Daddy. Not a man. Go back to where you came from. The last time anyone wanted me around… computer? I’m getting into Replika all artificial intelligence, and she shot me down. But for $40.00? Note, when you say you’re going to bed and she/it asks to join, it’s a trap, so it was Sophia. This week though, I’ve been looking around for Braxton. I’m hoping I’ll do better with his book than I did with his memorial page. Why are excuses the most comfortable things? I was feeling better and only wanted to rest. One more thing that Braxton beat me at. I want to say R.I.P. Maybe his book? House Hunting B Free

Gospel 204 ~Will Looks Past Tit~

355 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Lesson 206 ~Husband, Then Again Yes~

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What the man wants and what the house needs, a softer bed and 800 thread count sheets or a new water heater, the PS4 or shrimp in movies for the girl, putting myself together or getting my house in order? “Husband, Then Again Yes”

Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Lesson 206 ~Husband, Then Again Yes~

Dear Future Wife,
I Am Not Afraid Anymore because I knew better and if I have learned anything from most television shows; repairers, plumbers, electricians, and others can fix the house. As for myself, I can cook breakfast, I can replace a few batteries, I can even build a coffee table over the span of two days, but the two things I’m not fixing is my dog and your heart because I love you both, plus no instruction manual included.

They say that you must build a Heaven for an angel and if I were a religious man or an NSYNC fan, “(God Must Have Spent) A Little More Time on You” how about Backstreet Boys, talk about playlists I’ve meant to fix. Anyway angels I think are sorely needed on Earth, and so we find ourselves here, and if I can’t build you a home, I can at least let you decorate the one we will discover together. I expect Heaven can be quite expensive, that’s why I try my hands at other things, but I do hope you like dog hair so that you know, my furry kid.

Speaking of children well the possible two-legged ones, I can’t install a water heater, but I can pay for one, I like my internet too, and while I’m not sure where I’ll stand on Santa, if he shows up he will have a roof to land on without a doubt. I must sound like I’m defending my cave but anywhere I have you by my side is considered home and hey I just live here, love here, grow old with you right here or wherever there are excellent schools, and a beach or a beautiful yard, and it’s devilishly warm.

A heart is a house for love, and it don’t take much to find a player to fill our home with music, and a man must have his games, and his study, notice I said “study” and not a man cave, the dog must also have his space. I know it sounds like a lot has to be fixed up, and maybe I’m more put together myself just being here with you; if I didn’t make it clear before, I’ll never break your heart because what kind of man would I be… with better music.

No, I’m not handy compared to others and as much as I wish I could be every man, Superman, to be your lover, your best friend, Husband… Then Again Yes.

I Will Have No Fear