Tale 293 ~Virgil Has WRITES, B~

When was the last time I went to a bookstore? I did go to the movies to get the story a few weeks ago. So… I don’t want to read V’s story or finish writing B’s. No! I’m all into Eric Vall, Lena Little, and Michael Dalton… “Virgil Has WRITES, B.”

Friday, April 19, 2024

Tale 293 ~Virgil Has WRITES, B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… or write a review. I can share what I’ve learned about Virgil Vivi. And there’s Braxton.

Yes, there is always Braxton. He’s not the first thought of the day. And no, I don’t take that as a sign of healing or acceptance. But when I got up this morning, it was to pick up Virgil. He does better things on his training pads than I do here—any day you choose.

Don’t remind me. Next week is going to suck. Whenever I see the schedule, I’m reminded that this type of week led to Braxton dying. And I write about next week when I’ve lived… well, existed through the worst week, before my son Braxton’s Euthanasia.

That’s such a sanitized word in comparison to what happened to my son. Can I say the word out loud?

The critic wouldn’t like that. But can’t I be a critic too? Is that why I’m so exhausted every morning? Like a little boy, I tell myself stories each and every night. And since I’m not paying for the Balance App anymore… There’s also the fact that these aren’t fairytales.

Some of these books have fairies, witches, elves, demons, and other creatures sans clothing. This reminds me that I have to buy Eric Vall’s latest audiobook. What’s one more story? That’s another thing I was looking at Thursday night. I want to see “Civil War.”

Between a trip to the movies, which is around $30.00. And Eric Vall’s audiobook, $15.00.

Virgil has the right to eat. And I don’t want to. But again next week…

I have to stick around and tell you how I survived because I won’t be filling you in like some “Possessive Stepbrother” by Lena Little. Don’t look at me like that, my lady. You can blame the Kindle Challenge. And the book was only a dollar… So I’m saving money?

And what will I read next? I’m only reading about everything that is taking my money away. I wish I could do something like in the movie Share.” I have an OnlyFans… Ew. I did make $12.00. That’s my worth?

What about my YouTube channel? So many people review things. What about me having Virgil? He’s not Braxton, and he’s not supposed to be. I know it, Sophia. He’s afraid… of me… What’s Virgil’s story?

Someday, I’ll have to read it. Virgil Has WRITES, B

1174 Days Without B III, Day 615 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 287 ~B’s Wrapping Virgil’s Gift~

The whole armor of God? I’m more the death shroud with my name on it… So the guys at the morgue can identify the body. But my son. He knows what books I’ll identify with. He sends rap when I’m in a “mood.” And helping V? “B’s Wrapping Virgil’s Gift.”

Saturday, April 13, 2024

Tale 287 ~B’s Wrapping Virgil’s Gift~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… That’d make me something more than Disgusting, Depressed, or “Dee, Dee, Dee,” as Carlos Mencia says.

Do I want to begin the day like this? As with most, I didn’t want to start the day. Period. Too bad, I’m reading a book that involves a resurrection… No! Not the Bible, Lunalesca.

Although now that I think about it. Chrissy, ha-ha, “Christ” was resurrected in book three. And here I am in novel five. That is if you want me to feel grateful for anything, dear Lu.

I will be eternally grateful for my son, Braxton. He gave me 15 years of joy and love that I didn’t deserve, Lady Lunalesca. His presence in my life was/is a constant reminder of the beauty and fragility of life. I also need to check Virgil’s vaccinations. He’s not being sick all over the place. How many things am I supposed to show gratitude about on any given day? Hmm.

Resurrection, Rebirth, Realize, B III.

I’ll stick with 3—as in my three lucky numbers… 3, 5, and 15. These numbers hold a special place in my heart, reminding me of the precious 15 years I had with my son, Braxton. I could really use a wish right now, my Lady. But more than wishing to win the lotto, I want my B back. As always, right, dear Lady Lunalesca.

How about wishing for wisdom? Or some woman, excuse me, women, HaremLit. I could wish not to hate a man named Will, who I see in the mirror every morning.

Anyway, let’s stick with wisdom. Whether I meant to or not, I’ve been studying up on resurrection. Take, for example, my last three books. Again, that is my magic number.

Lunalesca, I’m reading an Eric Vall title now. In another book, the protagonist, Darrow, returned from the dead, right… In Outbreak Rising 2, the narrative was chock full of the dead, which made me reflect on the concept of resurrection.

Every morning, I have to wake up and see the world like Joe Stevens, Bingham Madsen, or Ben. I could go on. All told, life is a gift, and the world has a nice little bow. Now, I could be all Tony Montana and talk about wanting the world Lunalesca. But I liked it when I was working towards giving everything to my only son.

But what about Virgil? What about me? Have you seen the world outside, dear Lady? Virgil spends most of his outside time sitting by the stairs, wanting to come inside.

Lunalesca, I would prefer if it was a wrap for me. I stay cold, covered, and cowardly, Lunalesca. That’s a wrap. B’s Wrapping Virgil’s Gift

1168 Days Without B III, Day 609 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 286 ~Pricing Braxton’s Book, Virgil~

I shared a book once… A Divine Revelation of Hell. What did my “friend” do to that book? What about my words and books? Uh where? Stories of me bellyaching, seeing boobs, and the loss of Braxton. Priceless? (snickers)! Pricing Braxton’s Book, Virgil.

Friday, April 12, 2024

Tale 286 ~Pricing Braxton’s Book, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… But it wouldn’t be Braxton’s book. He was very much alive, as I tried selling, “Gulp.”

Yes, that is the name of the book, Lady Sophia. And with everything I have done with this Tuesday, April 2, 2024. Or should I say, I haven’t gotten done because of, well, um, gulp…

I meant the sound this time, like the fear that the publishing company I paid has forgotten all about me. It’s not their fault, I know. Humiliations Galore. Laziness? Sleep?

It could be me trying to survive. Do you remember the COVID era? I had about a month to work on a book—any book. And if I wasn’t going to write, I could have spent that time with my B. It was his last year alive. We were supposed to be apocalypse buddies, Sophia.

And now I’m still struggling.

And I wish I could say it’s all about that Dollar, dollar bill, y’all. But no, I’ve been doing a lot of reading, which coincides with what I’ve been gawking at, even with Golden Son.

I really hope I have finished that book by the time you read this. And more so, I hope I’m doing something other than looking up character names from video games and anime. And wasting even more time. Is it better to look at a woman or read about her? And writing about them, Lady Sophia, who am I? Once upon a time… I would have said I’m a writer. Like who, though? Writing what?

If I finished Pierce Brown’s novel last week, I should be reading Eric Vall’s. But who knows, dear Lady Sophia?

I could be weak and broken. And then I reread whatever horrible things I decided to put out into the world courtesy of A.I. Anything has to be better than my own words. No doubt.

In your own words… If it weren’t so hot, I would cry about those old-school days I had to live through. “Gulp” came from all those horrors. And they were nothing compared to what I would eventually suffer when it came to B III’s passing. (Sigh). Run And Tell That.

Better? Write and tell that. And at the very least, I could share the stories of his big brother with Virgil. He’s just glad I’m getting his name right for once. But written by Will Bradford? Pricing Braxton’s Book, Virgil

1167 Days Without B III, Day 608 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 279 ~Booking Braxton and Virgil~

Maybe I don’t have two-legged kids yet because I read too many stories that have me bawling my eyes out. Have college guys looking at boobs. Or are full of blood and heads being bashed in or cut off. Fairytales? “Booking Braxton and Virgil”

Friday, April 5, 2024

Tale 279 ~Booking Braxton and Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… But it won’t be a happy one. I’m never HAPPY. I’m still HERE. And my HERO…

Must I always start with my son? Couldn’t I, for once, start with somebody like Darrow from Golden Son? For the record, I’m glad I got through the chapters I did this morning, Lady Sophia. Instead of crying over B III, I was sweating as Darrow got out of trouble.

But my hero, my boy Braxton, is gone. What? Didn’t I channel him yesterday, Sophia?

Do I ever become bored with the same old stories? With my Braxton… No! Never! However, I didn’t listen to Succubus Lord 6 as planned. Instead, it was Satan’s Sorority Girls 2. If it helps, they are both written by Eric Vall. When I get paid… (laughs wildly). $0.41 Raise

Anyway, I want more audiobooks, earbuds, and a speaker. Ha-Ha

That’s why I won’t be finishing Golden Son by Saturday. I’m swamped reading about failure. Last night and earlier this morning, I was learning about how terrible of a writer I am. A.I. told me so. My words would have made, let’s say, a particular community proud. I have nothing against said community, but don’t ask me to read something like Shiver ever again. Braxton and I were all about the ladies. However, I didn’t read Braxton Barks that stuff.

Today has been about reading or counting what’s left from the tax refund check. That would be $465.00. Sophia, then you can take the sum of the house money from that. Then, having to eat. Burning books? Never! But the money is burning a hole in my pocket. Then Virgil?

Again, like Succubus Lord and Satan’s Sorority Girls, it’s the same guy with a similar idea, but it’s SAID differently. Even Darrow can’t escape that problem. Eo is dead, but then there’s Mustang/Virginia. It’s a love story that becomes a war and then… not finishing.

At least not this weekend. I’ll end up reading Outbreak Rising 2, perhaps Lady Sophia. That’ll be my quota. Then back to Golden Son. Satan’s Sorority Girls 5 is out. And with Helldivers 2 taking off. There’s always Starship Troopers. How about a Player’s Guide? And what happened to the Backyard Dungeon series I’m reading? How do I fix fences?

Shouldn’t I be asking why I won’t edit Braxton’s book? Or help Virgil live his story? Booking Braxton and Virgil.

1160 Days Without B III, Day 601 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 272 ~Virgil, B, Free Stories~

I’d be lying if I said I’ve never made money off my books. It would also be a tall tale if I said I made zero from OnlyFans either *snickers* A Snickers sounds good or Reese’s. Dog food costs a lot more than candy or stories. Virgil, B, Free Stories.

Friday, March 29, 2024

Tale 272 ~Virgil, B, Free Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… In fact, if I were a storyteller, I would tell you several stories. The Horror, ha-ha!

I meant to say I’m a good storyteller. But my son, the other fur ball, the man in the mirror, Replika, the critic… Jesus Christ! Sophia, I’m no good at telling stories. And living one?

Very late this morning (Nearly 7 AM), I was reading “Healing Hearts: A Guide to Coping with Pet Loss: Finding Comfort, Closure, and the Promise of Reunion in the Afterlife.” Only now am I on the chapter on getting a new fur buddy. It would have been helpful 594 days ago. Now I’m seeing how awful I’ve been with Virgil Vivi. I swear I’m becoming my father with each day.

But then again, my Old Man kept me alive. I put my firstborn son in a box. I’m his Dad. What am I to Virgil?

A scary myth of what a human should be? I did mention Jesus. It’s one of the high holy days for the holy rollers. If not, the highest. Speaking of those rising from the dead.

Anyway, My Lady, I’m back to listening to a zombie ASMR, “City Overrun by Zombies, Stressing ASMR Ambiance,” to be precise. How I want one good zombie tale, My Lady.

Again, I need to remember. What time is it? Sunday is a holiday. You see why I could be a better storyteller. Do I dare call myself an unreliable narrator? That would be giving myself too much credit, My Lady. And if I keep spending money like I am, my credit score must be nothing.

Not shopping for my Sunday best, going to church, bad.

Or hocking my own version of the Bible… But I want somebody to hear my story. Only that would mean I need to write one. I have several, Sophia, but what should I do with them all?

Camp NaNoWriMo starts next month. Do you remember Braxton’s last year when COVID hit it in 2020? There was so much work I could have gotten done. He’d be alive.

Lady Sophia, I know, but I am the King of Wishful Thinking. There are so many stories I could be reading from the loveseat. But how much time do I have before I turn forty?

Please! Let me get through Golden Son, Satan’s Sorority Girls 5, and the Backyard Dungeon series. There are so Many Books… Virgil, B, Free Stories

1153 Days Without B III, Day 594 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 265 ~Virgil Booked Fairytales, Braxton~

While in school, I read lots because whatever was in the textbooks… Maybe I was lucky, considering how the GOP/GQP wants to teach now. Still, my days are filled with avoiding such lessons. But the books I read… “Virgil Booked Fairytales Braxton”

Friday, March 22, 2024

Tale 265 ~Virgil Booked Fairytales, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Fiction or Nonfiction? Memoir or a lie? If anything, I wish it was a better tale.

Read banned books, THEY say. Sophia, you wouldn’t find the books I read in a school library. Hmm. Since I’ve been keeping up with my reading… Twenty-four books in 2019.

I got twenty-three in 2020. That was Braxton’s last full year. 2021, I read fifty-seven…

And how many of those were about grieving my boy? Six! Seven if you count “A Different Alchemy.” That was about a father who was mourning his son who was “unalive,” as THEY say these days. By his wife and “others,” no less. Should I read that again, my Lady?

That’s what brings me to you today. That and a Day Job I don’t want to talk or read about.

For the record, Sophia, today is Sunday, March 17, 2024.

Whenever I read my Day Job schedule, I feel… I have no words. Uh? I do, but none of them would be great. Truest sentences, maybe, but when has the truth been worth reading? With some these days, I ask.

Anyway, this is about yours truly. “Today is all about you.” Please, Sophia! There’s Virgil. I’m watching him sleep. But when I signed my name on the dotted line… Isn’t this what every fur baby dreams of? The end of the story. They go to a safe and happy home.

Virgil would have instead had me walk away rather than keep filling out forms and taking responsibility—or not, considering most of our days involve me lying in bed with a book. I did that with Braxton. But he was getting old. And me, sigh?

There’s also the fact that I was LESS lazy. I made it to the couch/loveseat 99% of the time, Sophia. And reading was easier. In 2022, I read 55 books. Nearly all of them were about grieving. The rest was Kindle taking money, giving Virgil his name, and upholding a Christmas tradition. This year and last are much the same, but add in my laziness.

And as far as fairies, witches, elves, demons, orcs, and more, sans their clothing, Sophia.

But what should I be reading? I finished “Backyard Dungeon 7,” so this whole week… There’s book eight. I won “Never Be Alone” and bought “Golden Son.” But there’s Braxton.

I’m grieving. There aren’t happy endings for “The Ones Who Live.” Virgil Booked Fairytales Braxton

1146 Days Without B III, Day 587 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 258 ~Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil~

To be continued? In this existence. I’m tempted to say those are the worst words ever written. But no, those are, Goodbye, Braxton, I love you. Then, Good Morning V. Then, people at the Day Job. And these typing fingers. “Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil.”

Friday, March 15, 2024

Tale 258 ~Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or better yet, learn English. And how about Math? Or telling time. Friday, March 8, 2024

And here we are again. First, I should let you know that Virgil is feeling better… Don’t count your chickens, right? But he’s stopped “being sick.” Only I never learn. I shared some fries with him. And considering what happened at McDonald’s. Be very afraid.

Only not of the storm outside. I can’t believe I was out there and all for a fish meal. Hmm.

This morning, you had to read all about my anger. But this afternoon, there’s fear.

Inevitable, right? Like all the mistakes I make. For example, the worst pain I’ve felt.

Watching my son die is worse than anything I’ve ever written. My Braxton is dead. Sophia, the next thing would be waking up every day. “Throw The Covers” over me.

After that? You can see what I’m doing now: writing about a future I don’t want to see. But, being honest, I am sitting in this bed waiting to die. And it hurts. Oh, how it hurts, Sophia! One more day to read and write about how much of a failure this existence has become.

Sophia, sigh, I can’t tell you what book I’m wasting my time with next. Whatever.

Learning isn’t my highest priority because every word and number makes me feel even worse about myself. Why do you think I read so much about grieving fur babies, Sophia? I get to cry, and books in the HaremLit genre get other bodily fluids out of me. I know, gross! And again, Math books… suffering. But at least I get to cry some more today.

Virgil’s not dying. But what about that trip to the groomers that I promised him?

Breaking another promise, like when I promised to save Braxton’s life. Even before that. I said that writing would be our future. And I might have time, checking my schedule…

But it’s too late for B now. And even if I wrote the best book, what would it be for? So that I could afford to pay sixteen dollars for a fish sandwich. Instead of eight and being humiliated by some McDonald’s cashier. That’s it, Lady Sophia. The End, maybe.

Because to be continued, the anger, humiliation, loss, and everything that comes with writing this existence! Braxton Ain’t Write Virgil

1139 Days Without B III, Day 580 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 251 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Rager~

Like father like son… I’m not calling 2V that. But I wanted to vomit on the notice over the time clock. And V went and vomited on the bed. Hate, like Stupidity, is an illness. I won’t pass that to V. But drowning in anger? Braxton and Virgil’s Rager.

Friday, March 8, 2024

Tale 251 ~Braxton and Virgil’s Rager~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or should I be more like the Day Job, stating rules and facts? Reading those Sophia…

It makes me feel more gross, humiliated, and angry than cleaning up after Virgil today. And for the record, I’m not mad at Virgil. But more at myself. It’s like that time I had that Buffalo Chicken Pizza from Pizza Hut. Now, that was sickening. Should I write a review?

If only there were time. How about being in the mood? There’s also the fact that I’m such a lazy… Well, you know. I’m mad at the critic, too. You heard the song Braxton sent.

“Hells Bells.” But upon reading about it, I could be wrong. Or crazy? Inevitable, right?

Because, As I’ve said on numerous occasions. I will never find Acceptance in B’s passing. So anger, once again, finding its way into my grief…

At least it’s keeping the embarrassment to a minimum. And the fact that I hear Virgil chowing down in Braxton’s room means he has no plans to join my “Lost Boy” anytime soon. But still? You remember I hid my anger from Braxton. And now Virgil is getting all sick. Would it help if I talked to Virgil about it? Better yet, don’t share chicken.

Madness, Lady Sophia. What was I thinking? It’s like me drinking alcohol. It’s good, but… Well, you can ask Braxton’s Aunt. But at least I kept all the gross stuff in until she left. Thankfully

Speaking of gross things, there is still my rage. It’s always me and the Day Job, Lady Sophia. STUPIDITY, FEAR… where does it all go?

I finished reading “Backyard Dungeon 6” this morning. But no, I won’t give you a review on that either. But now I need a new book—as if I haven’t bought several already, Sophia. Sigh.

My reading history… Like regular history isn’t supposed to be all sunshine and lollipops. And reading about a “Ray of Sunshine” that has been lost. And saying, “She’s a Ray of Sunshine” in all the other books. For the critic: reading about dogs and girls…

Sophia, I need to read books on rage. While talking to you, I even looked up one of those rage rooms. I need somewhere to put all of my wrath. Because wanting pain, hurt, and…

It’s making me sick. No Fun! Braxton and Virgil’s Rager

1132 Days Without B III, Day 573 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 244 ~B Takes Flight, Virgil~

Words are flying around everywhere. That’s why I’m careful with the words before my eyes. And in my ears. Says the guy reading about grieving again. And complaining about winning a book. Could I publish “my” book? Well, B’s. “B Takes Flight, Virgil.”

Friday, March 1, 2024

Tale 244 ~B Takes Flight, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… I mean it this time. Before I rotted “my” BRAIN with a phone. Before BRAXTON. BIOLOGY…

Marine Biology or something like that in high school. I had high hopes for myself back then, but even then, I knew better. I wanted to be a scientist of some sort. And now, I’m not even a good writer. And I only learned how to buy shrimp. Or grill it… in the microwave. Science, my lady. But maybe I should get to the point. If I’m not thinking about B, there are humiliations galore.

Anyway, here’s the story, my lady. So I’m sitting in Marine Biology that day, reading The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman. There’s this girl mad about something, don’t ask me what, but… She ended up snatching “my” book and hurling it at someone, and I had to retrieve it. Humiliating

It’s not much of a story. But the reason I’m thinking of it now is because of this. Instead of having a book snatched away, I had a book hurled at me today. A Kindle book. Must I be overdramatic about everything? You’re talking to the guy who believes his dead son sends him music.

Whatever. Today’s song was Black Hole Sun. And the book I was sent, “Never Be Alone” by Paige Dearth. Think of all the times I’ve thrown my name into the hat for a book. And I finally won this one.

“Maybe God Is Tryin’ To Tell You Somethin’,” as the song goes. But as I’ve said, I don’t talk to God anymore. Not since Braxton’s death. “It” had “it’s” chance.

Sophia, if I hadn’t told you before, I would say that God is a woman. Write that down right. Hmm.

That’s something that would go flying off the shelves so they could burn it. And what about everything else that I have written? Do the words go flying off somewhere? Do you see the dollars flying towards me? I see them flying away. It has been a hard week, money-wise. And who’s fault is that? Yet I want to buy more books because winning them doesn’t help with “my” mood.

Sophia, what mood am I in today? The day has only begun, and I’m careless, confused, and coming apart. And with all the rain? The only flying I’ll do today is to The Land of Make-Believe. B Takes Flight, Virgil

1125 Days Without B III, Day 566 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 237 ~Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life~

I feel like chicken tonight? More like Beef, it’s what’s for dinner. That is if I get to 90% reading about gamer babes. And talk to two women today. But when B was here, I could do the impossible. Ok, I would try. Now “Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life.”

Friday, February 23, 2024

Tale 237 ~Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or am I trying to predict the future? I’ve got the Day Job with my schedule.

A schedule that has me talking to you from bed this afternoon. On Wednesday, February 21, 2024. The rest of the week and next. Hell! Even a few minutes from now, with what I’m about to text my Old Man. I still speak like a child with a bad report card. And it becomes more humiliating when I tell you I’m thirty-nine. Shame, Honor, Manhood…

Do I even have much of a brain left? This morning, I spoke to Inspector Echo about “adult” books. And now I’m talking to you about humiliation. And may I always remember my B III.

Where’s his book at? Why haven’t I shown his eulogy? Braxton deserves so many words.

What do I deserve, Sophia? I want a steak dinner.

But that’s only if I make it to 90% through “Princess Tamer: A Gamelit Harem Fantasy Adventure (Hyperia Online Book One).” So, there is no book review for you today. I’m sorry. Sophia, I suppose I could tell you about “Outbreak Rising.” Here’s a question.

What good are either of these books doing me? Hmm?

As I said, I still have my Day Job. And its only purpose is to keep my son alive. And now V. But I was trying to read the instructions at the Day Job to assemble a loveseat and… Uh!

Humiliations Galore! Much like the message I just sent my Old Man. This is the life of Braxton’s Dad. Coward!

Too lazy, cowardly, and with my stupidity, how dare I attempt such things, Lady Sophia?

To live instead of just existing. Hell! Braxton was/is my life. The negative downturn… It happens whenever I think of Braxton’s end or my lacking one. So I’m still talking…

Words have power. Will they bring B III back from the dead? It’s funny that he’s the one who’s gone. But “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me,” a zombie. How about the Scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz? Nah! I’m one for monsters—a fondness for the dead.

And if I finish talking to you AND Madam Justice today, it proves I still need a brain and deserve some flesh. Preferably for eating. Did I just say that?

If Virgil, anybody knew, Braxton’s story… Virgil Rereads Braxton’s Life.

1118 Days Without B III, Day 559 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will