Tag: Lies

Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

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Most of the stories I write end in a brothel someplace. And I won’t dare to say I’m one to write a harem romance. As for this month, I’ll only be reading Christmas “stories.” And hoping by the end, well… not looking for miracles. B There Bad Stories.

Friday, December 10, 2021

Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I’ll never tell the story of inherited wealth. I work. The Day Job’s the worst.

So I tell myself an even worse tale. Today while I was buried in boxes, of course, I thought of those last few minutes before I resigned my son to one. I ignored everything else. Sophia, if I had done that before and focused on B III, he would still be with me. I mean more than spirit. How long am I going to tell this story, hmm? Nothing’s more horrible. You’re asking about good stories. I tried that while I was buying coffee for Cherry. Sad that my paycheck has never been that big. It was only because of 3 paid vacation days, ha. America, America. If you wonder why I have been avoiding the news for some time now. End of the world…

Please, my world ended on Sunday, January 31, 2021, at around 3:30 – 3:45 PM. The Revolution Will Not Be Televised. Watch World War III On Pay TV. No, I’m not scared. Yet another lie. Now don’t get me wrong, Lady Sophia, I’m not afraid for the country. We’re beyond screwed, but no. As always, I’m one selfish prick. Always bad words. OnlyFans Lady Sophia. My Stuff and Thangs if you’re wondering where I was tonight. Well, this afternoon, for the most part. A picture is worth a thousand words or $5.00. Only where was I this morning? Besides my good deed for today, I was waiting for sirens, boots at the door. To be on the news. The one tale I don’t want to tell

Like my tears, but they always come. Today they were brought on by another book I’m reading. I’m getting into the Christmas spirit, my first one ever alone thirty-seven years. So the story is called “The Christmas Nanny” by Elizabeth Kelly. Remember I read her work last year, “The Christmas Wife.” Should I read the one with the dog? NEVER!!! Sophia, you know the stories I tell to myself at night? I was telling myself the story of Final Fantasy VIII. Only freaking YouTube reactions. I’ve been watching Squid Game. Okay, I mean the reactions now. How I wish my Gganbu would come back all rich. Knowing Braxton, food wouldn’t be an issue. A Christmas miracle. I got some time, only B There Bad Stories.

313 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 160 ~B Not Ashamed Today~

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Today was uneventful at the Day Job. Not a win, but it could have been far worse. I’m ashamed I had to go to such a place but not what I did getting back to the house. For the love of money, for the love of Braxton. B Not Ashamed Today

Wednesday, December 8, 2021

Chronicle 160 ~B Not Ashamed Today~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and like the others, have I no shame, have I no honor? I don’t have Braxton.

That fact alone bothers me more than anything. Looking at the date, I see I missed any remembrance of Pearl Harbor. Way before my time, of course, but history lessons? Inspector, I haven’t forgotten my Ma’s birthday yet. I should put an alert on the phone to be safe. Do I even have the money to get her anything? A present from B and me. Inspector, I’m not bothered by all that begging I did the other day with Cherry yesterday. Hell, I’m a guy, and I like Yabbos. Everything I’ve ever wanted from this world is not for me. If anything, I should be grateful for days like today. Say it with me “Humiliations Galore.” Only when there’s nothing of real merit Inspector Echo.

Nothing of real merit. Like my body? The things that happen since I have claimed monk status once again. It hasn’t even been thirty days yet and tonight is a hard one if you catch my meaning. Find a way to survive the night. I want to go back to I Am Legend, for real. Braxton and I never hid in a bathtub. With him around, I was never scared for myself. Well, no, that’s a lie in a way. I was afraid that I would leave him alone. I stay alive for him. If he sees me now. Sad that he’s the only one who does, meaning find clothes. Inspector, this afternoon I was back to Stuff And Thangs after a month. NaNoWriMo season.

That’s how I should be making my money with writing. How long have I had this blog? How about all that money I paid to have Gulp published? NaNoWriMos completed? Instead, it’s like I’m content to waste another decade at the Day Job. Even if every day was like today, it’s still Hell. My very own Skid Row, and here I am playing Seymour Krelborn. I keep telling myself I’ll do anything to escape, which means this… Stay Awake. Inspector, I would rather be naked, isn’t that so? As long as I sleep uninterrupted. Inspector, that’s what I should be ashamed of. Waking up because B III needs me is one thing, but my fucking Day Job? The promise of fries. B Not Ashamed Today.

311 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 155 ~To B Humiliated Soon~

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Coming soon… yeah, I should shut up now, but I would talk about “adult situations” much easier than the effing Day Job. And the fact that I will go back next week and the week after. Aren’t I ashamed… of what happened to B III? “To B Humiliated Soon”

Friday, December 3, 2021

Chronicle 155 ~To B Humiliated Soon~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I have yet to tell a comeback story. Now the humiliating ones. Oh, every day.

Will it feel like a holiday? Did I get a holiday after the past 2 days? Considering I’m counting 3 things instead of 10. My words are still a rush of nonsense but a minimum today. The General Manager, Boss Lady, is still a… I think I told you about people making rules addressing everybody but meaning you. The same comes for giving out orders, fucking truck. And in the end, you know how much I hate to be touched, Lady Sophia. Do I look like a bitch? Don’t answer that, but a fist bump? Lady Sophia, can’t people respect, hands-off? Braxton helped me come up with my rule. If you ain’t my dog, my girl, or applying? Hands-off me. Should tell that to me.

As you know, I’m a fan of a particular pornographic actress, a pretty poet. And plenty of pinup playable characters made porn by certain artists. Anyway, where is all my money going again? Only I haven’t seen a plump yabbos in weeks. Monk status regained? Yeah, Lady Sophia, when I’m not being a “holy roller,” it’s like I’m one of the dead or the Reaper himself. Tomorrow as routine, I’m heading to PetSmart again. Now, this isn’t the point, but my shame when I left without Braxton and then with him in a doggie bag. That was not funny, I know, my Lady, but I’m all cried out for now. Hell, I’m somewhat surprised steam isn’t coming from my eyes in all my rage, geez.

Rage leaves you nowhere to hide. Can’t see the forest for the trees? All that is left is me. If Stuff & Thangs taught me anything. It’s that I’m not scared necessarily, Sophia. Dammit, next week with all my clothes on is much worse. Than writing, wanking, and working out how to keep my head above water. The idea of drowning in reality, creepy. Take that how you will. I even worry about the dumb stuff, like someone asking me what book I’m reading. Well, ‘tis the season, so Sophia, witness, Succubus Christmas Special. Lady Sophia, it’s something to do while I wait for next week and more of my Humiliations Galore. The comedian is dead, but the laughs keep coming. To B Humiliated Soon

306 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 153 ~About Last Lie Braxton~

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I told B the truth most of his days. Ringing a doorbell, or you’re not in trouble, B; there’s no pill in the peanut butter, cheese, or hot dog. Then a Wednesday like this one, I told the truth when his truth was he was dying. “About Last Lie Braxton”

Wednesday, December 1, 2021

Chronicle 153 ~About Last Lie Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now so that I by no means have to relive this day. I told Braxton, “Shush It.”

“Merciful Father, I have squandered my days with plans of many things. This was not among them. But at this moment, I beg only to live the next few minutes well.” ― The 13th Warrior

I want to talk about and yet don’t want to talk about his death. The last lies I told Braxton. But again, it was a day like today when he was crying, and I grabbed him up. I cuddled him and slept like the dead. I, of course, found him on guard duty. Humiliations Galore… I told Braxton all of them that day, as I’ll share these with you. What B III died listening to.

One. The floor pads/rugs, whatever were replaced at the Day Job because I was STUPID. Two, getting ragged on by two bitches in the stockroom. There were two different supervisors.

Three, standing there like a fucking idiot just laughing and smiling like a damn clown. Four, you know how I despise those cowards that can’t call a person out. So they make arbitrary rules to be a bigot, a racist, a zealot, an asshole, or again fucking STUPID. How I hate that word. Anyway, the manager goes all-in on “air pods” and phones Inspector. Did I mention who bought a new pair of headphones and uses them pretty religiously?

Five, someone tried to steal my work cart while I was working, making me look stupider. Six, this associate asked me for help, and I did after my babbling, mumbling bumbling. Seven, to further point out my ineptitude, I get undue praise from a manager. Dumbass. Eight, I failed in helping a customer and got embarrassed in front of “Customer Service.” Nine, I ignore another customer who eventually tracks me down for help with the kiosk. Ten, being called out in front of people for my air pods. I fear to touch my phone at all.

I had to keep a list Inspector, and even now, I’m sure I’m missing a few. What about my shame outside of the Day Job? Well, as you can see, I gained every NaNoWriMo badge. Did I write 50,000 words? YES, 50,200 almost. Did I write every day for NaNoWriMo? Hell no! I didn’t get 1,667 words each day. I didn’t write for so many days in a row. On the 30th, I checked to see I “got” every badge. It hurts less to lie to them than to my son. I was honest; I tried. About Last Lie Braxton

304 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 148 ~Pump The Breaks B~

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To think I damned last Friday. Today’s Black Friday, so yeah, my “Humiliations Galore….” Well, I don’t want to talk about it, then again I do, but my son is gone. When nobody is Happy you survived the day, then I’d get back here. “Pump The Breaks B.”

Friday, November 26, 2021

Chronicle 148 ~Pump The Breaks B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means there should be no more humiliation. Penis Rocket, Bernie Sanders, lying to Stephen Colbert.

Hell, with today being “Black Friday.” the Humiliations Galore portion of my life was multiplied. If I started talking about all my shame today, I would never ever stop Sophia. I could always tell you some more about Braxton. Always with the pain of his loss, everything pales in comparison, my lady. It’s pretty fucked up using Braxton this way. Would you rather me tell you a pornographic tale? Yet again, I will lie to NaNoWriMo about “Behave In The Cherry Patch.” I finished reading “Only Gone From Your Sight.” So many stories. But the one that came to mind this afternoon was when I escaped for an hour at lunch. Am I trying to remember happier times with my lost boy? After a nap.

Anyway, when I do get a lunch break, I would come back to walk Braxton. I’m trying to remain “cheerful,” Lady Sophia, honest. AHEM, so I’d return, and we’d walk the path behind the house. I could be late a minute or so getting back to the Day Job, but B III IS worth it. He was so tiny that when he sneezed, sometimes he would bang his head on the floor. No wonder he was on a quest for comfy spots. Hardheaded but a soft behind, that’s B. I could never figure out what was wrong with one side of his bed, you know. Saving a place for me? He could have wanted me to sit my ass down. Sometimes for only ten minutes.

Once, when we first got here, I remember that I came back to the house, and Braxton had slipped through the bars to greet me. I can tell you so many miracles of Braxton showing love, but him staying with me, not sprinting outside. Impossible, Parenting, I did it right. Sophia, of course, you know my favorite view of Braxton. Waking up like I did today, and B III at the foot of the bed staring out the door. He would come back and decide if I was strong enough. If he cuddled me, I’d drift off. If he ran around the bed. “Daddy’s awake.” That was his way of telling me it was time to live but 299 Days Sophia. Pump The Breaks B

299 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 141 ~Cause It’s Friday B~

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I wonder if Friday the 19th could be a thing. The 13th has zing. I live my horror story, Friday the 29th, back in January. Either way, you slice it; a dog’s dead or dying. A killer is on the streets (Rittenhouse), and today sucks. Cause It’s Friday B

Friday, November 19, 2021

Chronicle 141 ~Cause It’s Friday B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that might be enough to forget that it is Friday in a Sensory Deprivation Tank.

I hate Fridays though I should be enjoying this one considering Black Friday is coming up next. I could tell you the stories of the decade in which I have wasted my life at the Day Job. Humiliations Galore… nothing hurts more than the Friday I found out about B. Anyway, we’ll get to him; we always do. Even now, I’m not making him a priority. Hell, I didn’t make Cherry one either, and she has Yabbos. What about the supervisor today I couldn’t talk to? To see my cowardice in real-time, Lady Sophia. My effing Day Job, ok? When Braxton was dying, I was on the phone; I was all over the place. At the moment, I would rather be nowhere at all, Sophia.

Don’t mind me, while I was dicking around, I finished reading the book “I Am Nelson.” A dead dog, plus watching a killer go free… Yes, I saw the Kyle Rittenhouse verdict. And then where are we now, Lady S? 292 Days without my son. Then there’s the next day. While I was busy paying for Yabbos, I found my paycheck adequate. Art thou happy? Hackers and spam have been plaguing me this week, but nothing today. Art thou happy? I’ve felt a splash of inspiration from music and movies Lady Sophia. Art thou happy? Today, hell no, I’m tired, and I hate myself. I hate my life. Even sitting in bed ain’t easy right now. But it could always be worse. On the floor…

How low will you go? A lot of people ask themselves this when the weekend is upon us. I already talked about being on the ground scaping up fries someday this week. Braxton would be appalled. More when I spoke to him last night about what I didn’t do Saturday. I’m still not a BELIEVER, but God bless dogs. I saw that I forgot all about the reason I even started this blog. I missed November 5th. As I was buried in kitchen playsets, vacuum cleaners, bedding, and dog toys. Only one memory, a single day, stuck in my mind. Sophia, today is Friday. One more day to hate like all the others. Do I have stories to bring about sleep? Cause It’s Friday B

292 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 134 ~Life B Scary Sometimes~

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Tonight is brought to you by the letter B. Always for B III but for tonight, I’m leaning more towards Banning. I did not plan on Big Uns, Bad mofos, and a lot of Banning. At least I survived traveling the night for a burger. “Life B Scary Sometimes.”

Friday, November 12, 2021

Chronicle 134 ~Life B Scary Sometimes~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what is there left to fear? If I were a Republican, people with morals, etc.

God knows mine when flying out the window this morning? I did not plan on having the day I had. That’s not saying much. The usual blueprint for the day is to survive it, Sophia. But much like every other story that I “put down.” Hearing about my breathing is anything but “interesting.” So you know, those are dirty words but again how about now. I wish Braxton was here, then I might get some sleep. At present, I’m sitting at ten minutes, and that won’t last for long. We’ll get to that like I’ve been meaning to nap today. Dammit, Lady Sophia, I don’t deserve it. I only wrote 2700 words today. I was sitting here making a plan, paying a girl, Cherry read.

Lady Sophia, a dog’s bark could make me get my shit correct. What do you think? I’m not getting my hopes up, but what if I walk into PetSmart tomorrow and “he” is still there. Ain’t like I got money to burn and the cash I have had all these 285 Days. It’s not like I have been spending it on B III, but I did finish the book “This Dog’s Afterlife,” ok. As the song goes you “Make Me Wanna Die” is what I would tell the author. I don’t mean that as a bad thing. Heaven sounds kickass, but I’m not going there now or ever, ha. Even if I had a heart attack sometime tonight. I know, not cool. Thirty minutes now.

So why do I keep mentioning time? With the time, Braxton never got. You best believe Lady Sophia, I got my cry in over soggy fries. Hell, I should be grateful I survived the roads. While I was planning on getting food today, I got an alert about some scammer. I blocked the hack and continued about my business, but from around 4:00 PM to 10:10 PM, it’s been a nonstop barrage. I’m holding the line so far, but again about thirty-five minutes and going. I’ve been doing so well with my writing, and if I wasn’t looking at only another grilled cheese sandwich. Or restarting my watch because you guessed it. Blocked someone else. To be on point with B. Life B Scary Sometimes.

285 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

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Crossing the line varies from person to person. Defending Nazis, harming pets, or liking R. Kelly, or more to the point, the music he made. The only lines I’ve been crossing these days are international currencies and stuff B needs. B There Some Line

Friday, November 5, 2021

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which to answer the title question is no. With that money, you’ll do any damn thing.

Save Braxton? I keep telling myself that. In a way, I was lucky my boy was the scrappiest man I knew/know. No broken bones. B III’s heart kept right on beating for fifteen years despite the few when he was on medication. The meds I bring out 278 Days afterward. Hell, I couldn’t be bothered to afford some stairs. Little Braxton learned to fly, always. Sophia, I hate making that “joke.” There’s also the fact I wouldn’t have Braxton neutered. B III was a man, and I wouldn’t take that away, no. Um, B III should have been bred, hmm. Again how did it all end Lady Sophia? Name on the line, and I’ll never cross another with his name on it, to be sure.

Because I’m a Bad Man, and no, not R. Kelly bad. To appreciate the art but not the artist… Didn’t I say years ago that I wanted to be as infamous as the Marquis de Sade? If I’m going down, you know the crime I should be punished for. Every time I hear sirens Sophia. But these days, it’s been the beeps, chimes, and dings that have been telling my story. God knows I’m still lying to NaNoWriMo. For the record, counting our conversation with Lady Sophia. This will be 3,900 words completed today. Well, why not 5,000? Hell, if I swore on Braxton’s name, I’d still be a lying piece of shit. 6,900 when I’ll tell NaNoWriMo it’s 8,500. Writing most of the day.

I keep telling myself that I should let my anger fuel me. A lot of the time, I fear the man in the mirror. Do you know why no one else should? It would require me to have more energy than to cross the line, which is the edge of the bed to the floor. Energy, FEAR. Sophia, there’s been one other thing keeping me glued to the sheets or shower walls. Reaching 5,000 words would be easier if I wasn’t looking up Pokémon Bras and lingerie. Every OnlyFans girl would kick my ass for how many “euros or quid” I’m spending. However, I crossed the line with that girl too. That was yesterday, but wow, Lady Sophia. Crossing the line feels damn good. But wrong. B There Some Line

278 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 187 ~Panic Does Not Serve You~

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The first Monday of the new year. Same job, redundant emotions. And with my “Republican Tendencies” leftover feelings of hate for humankind. It took me a while to calm down after my cray day. Good thing I started this Sunday. Panic Does Not Serve You

Monday, January 04, 2021

Gospel 187 ~Panic Does Not Serve You~

Hundred And Sixty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and in other things, I wish I knew. How about being scared to death. I’m terrified, now seeing how I’m coming on or off (with time) another lousy shift. It’s still Sunday, but speaking to Lady Lu, I wanted to take my son to the vet. As I told the Man in the Mirror, it was a night of puppy cries and puke in my bed. He’s had some good hours, no vomit, no cries. Making up for lost time. It seems Madam Justice this year has started off with confessions and another. I saved some money.

Do you remember when I was pissed at Serra Hyundai about wanting another $500? Hell, I still am, but as I was driving away after saying no, I was frightened. Spent the whole ride listening to “Sixteen Tons,” “Working in a Coal Mine,” and “We Will Go Home” for real. Speaking of which, the “Song of Exile.”It’s at the forefront of my mind whenever I head to the Day Job. I carry a plastic bag and a Sprite in my backpack. Yes, I might puke when I get out of the car to start the day. Even now, I’m shaking knowing the coming week. Right this second, I panicked when a friend was a bit upset with me about my views on Trump. I know Madam Justice, it didn’t take long, and here we are, day three or four into the brand New Year SIGH.

Speaking of “Republican Tendencies,” why is it again that I feel that money will solve my problems. Because I would be “Takin’ Care of Business.” I hear my first playlist this year. It doesn’t change the fact with the right amount of money, well who knows, hmm. I do. Last night while fighting addiction, I thought, would “Capital A” forgive me for wanting? Well, what a boy wants. With enough, I would make Target, Serra Hyundai, and the “Day Job” AHEM “quake with fear” or panic. Maybe funding other businesses. How about my panic? What’s the cure there? Again something I can’s share and can’t do anymore but twenty minutes, where am I, in bed. There’s also my Anger and Rage. Please don’t make me quote Yoda. Nowadays, I’m focused on how old I am.

Time is on my side, well no, so yeah, yikes… Panic Does Not Serve You.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 180 ~Don’t Be Fated To Lies~

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I’m sensing a pattern when it comes to my body these rules. Today is more like what I allow into my mind, heart, and soul. I do plenty to protect my eyes, and I always have my earphones in, and why is that. “Don’t Be Fated To Lies,” I can’t hear you.

Monday, December 28, 2020

Gospel 180 ~Don’t Be Fated To Lies~

Hundred And Sixty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that’s not a lie. In a way, I look at it as having less than $20.00 in the bank. The money is there, only I can’t access it yet. I could tell you what’s in my closet right now. Let’s say that I’m missing a few essential parts; that’s all, ha. However, I have never been one for the philosophy of AHEM, “Fake it till you make it.” On the other side of the coin, why believe that I’m doomed when it comes to going to work? Worse is walking around like Faith Seed. “I know you’ve heard stories about me.”

As always (sigh), I want to apologize for being so down, but that’s the thing. The new year is almost here, and for right now, there’s no story to tell. Now I could say that’s because of time-travel. It’s still the 27th… this week will be hard. My parents didn’t tell stories. To be fair, I would choose nothingness over the things they say at the Day Job. Say it with me, Madam Justice “Humiliations Galore.” How many fights have I had with one of my managers “silently.” Will didn’t say that. Now he wishes you would shut the fuck-up. My little Dæmon sits here without a word, yet I know I could be a better dad. So what I carry him downstairs. I pay for his heart medication, and he convinced me to give him hot dogs along with treats. He sleeps in my bed nightly. Yeah, I’m a pretty crappy father, aren’t I?

I won’t lie to you, Madam Justice. “Lies of Omission?” Okay, yes, but the things that make me feel Muy Bueno, like a million bucks or even blissful. Remind me to shop Amazon for a new outfit. Anyway, those things people say are BAD. Those people, I believe, are liars. At least that’s what I want to speak. With my OLDS, I want to say that I do exist. They would fire back, “yeah, your name is on these bills.” I sound like an ungrateful bastard, don’t I? Pardon my French this afternoon. More importantly, pardon their lies about me. I should now have this conversation with the man in the mirror. His lies are the hardest because he goes out and listens to everyone. The Devil Is A Lie. Don’t Be Fated To Lies.

I Will Have No Fear