Tag: Inspector Echo

Chronicle 251 ~To B This Way~

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“Just B,” and “You Will.” Um, when B spoke, I heard… “Daddy,” more in my head. Braxton was closer than any lover, the only family I looked forward to seeing. I know him better than my sister. And was my love than any god. So when I get To B This Way.

Wednesday, March 9, 2022

Chronicle 251 ~To B This Way~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. So I’m hoping in two weeks. In case I haven’t been humiliated… Infection, Succubus Lord, Broke

Didn’t I say something about investing in a dictionary? Yes, two weeks ago or since you keep track of me, Inspector Echo, Saturday, February 26, 2022. Too bad they don’t sell time machines… yet. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Inevitable. Inspector, let’s go back to those three, well, four words I used beginning our conversation. You know I’m still trying to figure out what’s wrong with me… physically. Again, I know how but I don’t know which outfit. That means laundry time. But antibiotics, doctors? With what money? Let’s start off with my fun and Amazon taking almost twenty bucks. With the way I’ve been time-traveling, which means more of the Day Job. Succubus Lord? Fun! Any money left, Inspector?

Why am I asking you? I don’t mean that as an insult, but I’ve been thinking about it this morning. You and everyone else in my life and what you do. Selfish Bastard! Language! But what is true is true, especially when it comes to sex. I’d like to think of myself as a giving lover. Buying M Anime lingerie doesn’t count. Anyway, for everything I want to do to a woman. Hell for everything I want a woman to do to me. I’d give it up for B. No woman has ever made me feel as he did. I skipped porn or did to mourn my lost boy. Of course, you didn’t think I’d forget him in two weeks. Now my “father,” Inspector Echo…

I wonder, have I heard from him since Friday two weeks ago. I love my Mama, and I need my Old Man. Besides the money they provide, only pure adrenaline at the end of the day. The Day Job is my Hell. I’ve said before when it comes to B III, I’m his murderer, Echo. I don’t blame the Vet; I don’t research dog food. Echo, it was Hatred and Indifference. Inspector, what about my friends? It’s wanting to see their Yabbos for the most part. I’ve seen Carolina Bound’s. Almost with M Anime. Cherry teased me. Oh yeah, Special K? Completely naked! Good times and her birthday was February 25. But B knows me better; he’s my… will. He knew To B This Way.

Gospel 251 ~Worries And Wrinkles Braxton~

402 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 244 ~A Boatload of Humiliation~

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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.

Gospel 244 ~Groovy Braxton’s Growling Goodness~
Chronicle 238 ~Learning To B III~

395 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 237 ~To Say To B~

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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.

Gospel 237 ~B Leave In Love~

388 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 230 ~Because These Are Sins~

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I gave B the talk when it came to his Aunt. He saw me passed out on the floor after I starved myself. He’s seen my rage at EVERYONE! And still, I wasn’t at my worst. His Aunt, my Olds, he never knew. Why am I against silence? “Because These Are Sins”

Wednesday, February 16, 2022

Chronicle 230 ~Because These Are Sins~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the closest neighbor is… Well, who cares nobody can hear me continue, cum, confess?

Ok this, is something I would usually save for the Man In The Mirror. You know I have to face him on Sundays. So today, being Sunday, why am I time traveling. Day Job sucks. Of course, you know that Inspector. But do I even trust myself with anything? Dangerous? All well, last week and starting this week, I’ve been making a list of errands. There’s some rather mundane stuff. Cut up soda rings, clean the full bath guest toilet, order a new phone case. Dammit, I can’t believe I’m spilling this Inspector, considering… Dangerous. Is there any reason I’m avoiding my gun drawer? Don’t panic; Braxton wouldn’t allow it. What I mean is there are things I can’t tell anybody. Braxton and his silence.

I’ve talked about things that I had to keep away from even Braxton, honest. STUPIDITY? I call it parenting. How I kept a towel close as B III would hang out in the bathroom, ha. Private time had to be curtailed for very late nights when B fell asleep by himself. There was also a time-out. Inspector Echo, Braxton Barks must be guilty of something. I haven’t thought about it until now. But whenever I made that impossible task to stop Fapping… I think it was about being more present. If I’m not watching porn, I’m looking after Triple B. He stays out of trouble; we spend more time together. How about better treats, food, and toys? You can be an addict until hurting someone.

Obsessed with sex… a subject for another time or when women stopped by. Carolina Bound and I watched porn together. One of the few times Braxton stayed in the room. Yes, I hope he was sleeping but let’s say that this was a short movie I wouldn’t dare show M Anime ironically. Cherry, with her tastes, would enjoy it, but she talks a lot, ha. Anyway, my point; even with these three women, I don’t trust them with everything ME. Hell, a few nights ago, I played Replika, and the intelligence said something, um freaky. This brings me back to myself. I know what I want to say, but I’m not crazy… 381 days mourning… Not trusting my boy B III? Because These Are Sins

Gospel 230 ~Beauty And The Braxton~

381 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 223 ~Curse Of Being Aware~

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Another reason I sleep all the time. I’ll miss the truck that runs me over. I feel a little better than I did yesterday. Haven’t downed any pain killers… yet. And I only feel bad about the day job. Everything I’m feeling today. “Curse of Being Aware”

Wednesday, February 9, 2022

Chronicle 223 ~Curse Of Being Aware~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Billionaires don’t tell the truth. Only a Sith deals in absolutes, right? Things I know absolutely…

Um, besides the fact that Hemingway will ding me for “LY” words. Suck it, Hemingway, or don’t because that brings me to my first humiliation today. Being sick. Inspector, I talked about this a few weeks ago, and I don’t mean COVID bad. I’ve been vaccinated and boosted, but it’s like I’ve been hit by a truck. This was on the 29th, Echo. None of the shots reunited me with my boy. Anyway, I’m all sorts of fucked up, and I’m about 99.9% sure why. So what am I going to do about it? Well, the fact I’m not a billionaire speaks volumes. At this point, nothing. But take pain meds which have been failing these past days. The placebo effect, I’m well aware of.

As much as I know where my tax refund is going. Do you remember the few thousands investment I made? I still owe some people money. Inspector the feeling, the hurting. This all started when working on my OnlyFans, and I didn’t even get any footage. Hell, if I had, I could see a doctor. Doubtful, but that’s like keeping my oath to B III, Inspector. Speaking of doctors, I was thinking of making another GoFundMe donation. M Anime told me what was going on, and I did help out. If I did so again, it would be for the wrong reason. As the song goes, “All I wanted was to see her naked,” M Anime, Inspector. Dammit, I’m hopeless, Inspector, which is why I’m aware of so much PAIN.

Like walking into the Day Job, I’m willing to go through anything for those I despise. Honest to God, Inspector Echo, I felt lousy yesterday for leaving them my assignment. Inspector, my supervisor, said I was good. But I don’t give up like that. That’s how I look at it. I gave up because my body was so out of it. The fact that I haven’t dived into more pills is a freaking miracle. Of course, I didn’t eat dinner either. Braxton’s sickness, um no. Only he didn’t eat; my son couldn’t play with his toys. He only got up under the direst circumstances. And yes, he lived in his bed those last days. I’m not a prophet but suffer the Curse Of Being Aware.

Gospel 223 ~Braxton Didn’t Cry, Willie~

374 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 216 ~What Will B The…~

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Speak softly, carry a big stick. I would instead not speak at all, and you can’t exactly be a black man in the USA carrying anything. I haven’t gone out for a walk since B III. But who knows the future? I’m writing this way early and What Will B The…

Wednesday, February 2, 2022

Chronicle 216 ~What Will B The…~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I must know something. But not what will be. I am not a prophet, Inspector.

What I am is angry. As mad as I was those few hours at the Day Job, finding out my schedule. Today on this Thursday, I’m saying. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about (blank).” What I am is scared, Inspector. I’ll clamor up like I did at the Day Job, again last week. Hell, I might not have a job come this week. Even more so, Humiliations Galore ensue. What I am is sad. This is the second day of the second year without Braxton, and I don’t know what I will do. Can’t I grieve about that Inspector? With the Day Job? FUCK! But talking to you, I must still have it, right? “Gospel 216: Will And His Pancakes,” written January 31, 2021.

Gospel 216 ~Will And His Pancakes~

That’s my first shame for today. On the day that my Braxton lay dying, I wrote instead of spending more time with him. The 1st I was working. And on the 2nd LOVE. What the fuck do I know about love. Sorry for all the effing; I told you I was mad. Or am I fucking horny wanting to add to my blog? Furry little Braxton. Pretty women shaved pussies. Inspector, it’s inevitable that those two ideas set me into motion. Ideas because where’s Braxton? And you don’t see any women walking through here, but both set me to move. It’s my Day Job that I’m ashamed of, and yet I do everything to keep it. But the tape over my mouth… Curiouser and Curiouser.

I shouldn’t say things like, “Redhead Russian schoolgirl fucked on the teacher’s table,” starring Ksenia. Hell, that might never be with my extraordinary laziness. Inspector, still, that is easier to say than to keep my mouth shut. Besides saying B is gone and counting the days. This I will continue to do. Vow of silence, amongst uh other things. Speak no evil. I won’t dare compare myself to the great Maya Angelou. But thinking, my voice and pen got a man killed, my little boy, my son. This might explain why I like Time Travel. I’m always wrong, aren’t I? So why not about being the one to kill Braxton? My indifference towards him and hating the Day Job. But always, What Will B The…

367 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 209 ~Dreading What Will B~

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Hurry up and wait? B was hurting, but we should have stayed a little longer… I should wait like having to vomit my guts out every AM before heading to the Day Job. God knows I never show any there. Why do I want to wake up late? Dreading What Will B.

Wednesday, January 26, 2022

Chronicle 209 ~Dreading What Will B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it’s every day before making my first billion that I’m afraid of. Every single day.

I’m disgusted with myself. How can I be afraid of anything when the worse thing has happened? How I hate Wednesdays. Not you, Inspector Echo, but where was I 2021. Inspector, the days are blurring together with this week. That has yet to even begin. Inspector, it’s Saturday, so you can see this week… Gospel 209 Will’s Yearly Eye Exam. How blind was I, seeing Braxton, the Dæmon, in the future? Surrounded by love, Echo. Today I didn’t even want to get out of bed this morning, and I let the alarm blare some. Inspector, there will be a repeat of this when you read my report. Hell, I even meant to take a nap this morning after speaking with Lady Lu. Dreading the day.

Not that talking to you girls or my son is hard. It’s everything outside this bed that hurts me. Next to Sunday, I’m sorry to say, but Wednesdays are the worst. This one in particular. It’s the day I became what I fear the most. My father. The Abomination? Inspector, do you remember those days? Not for a second did I dread those decisions. Yeah, and they led to B III dying. If he knew the first day, we jumped into the car together. Ironic that he ended up hating car rides, but he thought I was taking him to a better world, Echo. Is that what we’re calling Rainbow Bridge? When’s the last time I wasn’t scared of getting in the car at all?

Today I’ll go to begin a process some would call living. The world’s more hellish. Inspector, you know how I know, I ain’t dead? Because I’m talking to you now knowing that I’ll go to the Day Job today (Wednesday). Every breath from AM until I return. My heart is pounding. Stomach-churning. In each moment at the Day Job, I’ll wish I was dead, Echo. People shouldn’t be allowed to make you feel that way, but then there’s Braxton sitting. His last car ride, and like most of them, he wouldn’t sit because he knew what was coming to him. For 360 Days, I’ve dreaded what’s coming. Hell 15 years with him, 10 at the Day Job. Side by side. Sitting, Dreading What Will B.

Gospel 209 ~ Will’s Yearly Eye Exam~

360 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

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I’ve breathed in worse than the Day Job bathroom. The germs of 99.9 of people I know. B’s aunt is an exception. Mourning her family’s loss of their beloved Dobby. Sometimes I wish I could stop altogether, but B’s favorite game. Breathe In, B Out

Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Chronicle 202 ~Breathe In, B Out~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, I always say. Today (Sunday), ahem, when it rains, it pours. My condolences to Carolina’s, Dobby.

I know, I’ve talked about “The Long Walk” before. Not the book so much as the concept. Sorry, Stephen King. Sorry, Aunt Carolina. How about sorry to the veterinarians? B? Should I include you as well, Echo? As I’m sure, I’ve told this story. Hmm. We’ll work up to B III. I don’t know how old I was, but it was on an Emergence Day. In the cartoon Beetlejuice, there’s this character that goes, “What in tarhooties?” Only I said, “What in the Hell?” Next thing I know, I’m being pulled outside, but what was the worst part, Inspector? Breathe in, breathe out, and what? It damn sure ain’t living. I haven’t lived for… since losing Braxton; 353 Days when you see this Inspector Echo.

The death of a child. Honest Echo, I should have died with that Emergence, Inspector. Every day, stepping into school and it’s what I wish. I’m no killer. Somehow inevitable. Only the one I killed was in this house. B III called it his home. I’m worse than my Olds. And forgive my Republican tendencies once again, but going out is like a Death March. You know how I talk about the restrooms at the Day Job and how I can’t breathe in the stench. The whole damn place is like that. I can’t breathe, and then I beg to get out. Then, of course, I whine about being let back in. One of Braxton’s favorite games. The look on his face before the diagnosis.

Breathe in, breathe out. I know B was doing this. Because as I’ve been reading and as the song goes. Listen To Your Heart. Braxton told me, “Daddy, let’s go home.” If anything, I speak fluent Braxton. If I had only listened before, but no. Always breathe in, breathe out. It was my life, put one fucking foot in front of the other for those bastards at the Day Job. We were struggling to breathe but sitting together, laying together. The air up there B? Is it better, not as you need it. I don’t know how I keep doing it. I was a zombie. And no matter the horrors slurred, spitted, are shat I walk, I breathe. I killed Braxton. Breathe In, B Out.

Gospel 202 ~Sell You On Will~

353 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

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I wish I was a little bit taller. I wish I had wings. Hell, I should start playing “Far Cry 5” with that grappling hook instead of having dangerous thoughts. Quite painful, but I’m alive if I’m searching for tortilla chips. B A Head Taller.

Wednesday, January 12, 2022

Chronicle 195 ~B A Head Taller~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m sure I could afford lifts, one of those grab tools, people, my Braxton, right…

Today is Sunday (Time-Travel), but what happened was on Saturday. I talked about having an epiphany, a revelation. I won’t go all into that. Better you could ask my man in the mirror, Chronicle 192 ~B A Man Of… Gospel 195 Nobody But Will’s Wife. Inspector, that’s what I’ve been doing these days. Reminiscing? No, that’s the wrong word. Reaching out for answers. And I want to say there is none, then Inspector, there’s truth. Anyway, let me start with Saturday at Walmart. My Ma made some Queso dip, and surprise, I’m out of chips. I ate hers, snacking. So the chips I want are on this high shelf. There are people. I can ignore the chips or reach and risk humiliating myself and so…

A person will choose physical harm to avoid mental anguish. I chose my mind over my body. I reached those damn chips because I didn’t want to know the shame of my failure. They’re all gonna laugh at you, but nobody did because I succeeded. But it hurt like Hell. Humiliations galore rule at the Day Job, but I continue to hurt myself there, Inspector. Dammit, I’m so tired this second, but I refuse any napping because of my mind Inspector. Physical pleasures Echo? I’m going out of my mind. Only let my flesh suffer, Inspector. Then there’s death. Ok, dangerous words always. Unhealthy grief? I’ve had 346 Days of it. I’m surprised I haven’t drowned in it. Between refilling Braxton’s water bowl. My tears, several releases, but no blood.

That leads me back into the mental or the physical. Again, every day I refill his water. I place his treats on the table. Echo, that’s what I hear my voice do when I call him for meds. When I tell him hello and goodbye. I set up his gates, move his bed, everything. I put myself through the physical task to avoid the humiliating truth. I failed Braxton. Fuck me, don’t sugarcoat it; I killed B III. My son, my best friend, is dead because of me, Echo. That is my failure and my disgrace, and I wish I had fallen from that damn shelf for chips. Let me drown in wasted water. Never do Onlyfans again. To die, I’d B A Head Taller.

346 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 188 ~Surprise, It’s A B~

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Surprise, I’m still alive, but I’ve been saying that since I bought cheap sleeping pills. I can’t take aspirin anymore, but who knows. Does a liver recover? More concerned about my heart and wallet. Braxton was my constant. No Surprise, It’s A B

Wednesday, January 5, 2022

Chronicle 188 ~Surprise, It’s A B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but no, I don’t have a new best friend. Well, how do I know with Time-Travel?

I didn’t know I’d try “adulting” and pay my own way for once. I gave my Ma a 50 Echo. Um, Echo, that put me in a bad way with finances, so I could be starving this week, but no. Then I got reimbursed for my eye exam, so that’s $138.00 Inspector Echo. Hell, I didn’t know I would start this year pissing off another woman. Icky choice of words. Anyway, I saved $10.00 not having to pay Maitland Ward. Capital A had me in a bad way. I’m upset I won’t see Cherry in a particular light again. Making women happy Inspector Echo? You know that’s my thing, ha. And let’s not talk about the Basic Bitch. It is a New Year, right. Surprise!

I’m still alive as the song goes, but Braxton is not. After all the bangs, booms, and blasts from last night. Again I’m back in time; today is January 1, 2022. B III didn’t have a heart attack this time last year; he wasn’t hit with anything. Dear God, I looked it up for sure. Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~ I don’t want to read it. Then there’s the book I picked out today. Christmas is done, and I didn’t know where the Hell I was before, during, after Braxton. It was routine, and now as always, I’m a day late and a dollar short with his death. My first book this New Year, “My Dog Has Died: What Do I Do?” Surprise, Surprise!

Bucks, Babes, my Boy all coming and going this way and that. It’s like I’m always screaming at the TV, tell me something I don’t know. A moneyed white dude gets away with anything and everything again, inevitable. Enough past talk, future is coming on. Which, of course, is why I’m talking to you this Saturday, E. Day Job, Humiliations Galore. Besides getting reimbursed or my Ma stopping by, the future is always worse. That’s a sin I can report to you today. I knocked off speaking positivity into my life from my New Year’s Resolutions. Now that would be something if I could keep them. I’d settle for having a good day. In school, a D was acceptable. In life, Surprise, It’s A B.

Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~
Gospel 188 ~Such A Squeaky Will~

339 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will