Tale 174 ~Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents~

There are a lot of stories, but I don’t want to read any of mine. Hell! My Christmas story. Santa’s not a sorcerer… a necromancer? He’s still alive. But do I want a twist in “my” story like a Netflix or Hulu show? Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents.

Friday, December 22, 2023

Tale 174 ~Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… “This is the story of how I died.” No, this isn’t the movie Tangled, but really….

Braxton, do you need a roommate? “Only God Knows Why,” I was asking that, Sophia. Well, that’s a lie. I’ve been talking about it for the past week… I don’t even remember how long it’s been. 1055 Days? Of course, those are days without my son. I should still follow him. Why? The floor downstairs is a death trap. The flood, fellas, and my “father.” (Screams)! My boy’s still gone. That’s never going to change, Sophia. Does Santa know Necromancy? And let’s not forget all the “Humiliations Galore.” Um, the Day Job, PetSmart, the house.

Have I ever told you this isn’t my house? Not my HOME! But for my little boy, my B III.

There’s no lights, no Christmas tree, or holiday spirit? Virgil?

I’m sure he’s barking at something. But it couldn’t be to stop Santa from breaking into the house. Does he want to go Christmas shopping with Braxton and me? Simoleons? Don’t I still pay for streaming services and salacious books set during the holidays, dear S? I don’t have money or much time, and every day is spent trying to shuffle off the mortal coil. But I woke up. So, at least for one more day, I won’t give my Olds what they want most… Braxton sits in a box under a lamp. Me in a box beneath their tree. Sophia, I expect far too much of Santa. Hell! Son numero dos? And a sinner like me because there’s no book review today. Sorry Manus

His Christmas Harem by Manus Dare, to be specific. I’ve been getting into movies and TV shows being recapped on YouTube. Are they sent from Braxton to keep me here?

Anyway, I saw “The Mill” on Hulu a day or so ago. If that ain’t the story of this existence. Except for having a pregnant wife, I have two dogs. And with those dudes, the Day Job, and my Dad, even now I want to scream out Sophia, I QUIT!

But then what about black guys and cute brunettes… or girls with dark hair? “15,000,000 Merits” got my attention. No, it ain’t porn… Wraith Babes…

The Platform? I still have to watch it all, though.

Stay alive watching, reading… Not ruining Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents.

1055 Days Without B III, Day 496 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 173 ~Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton~

With every step, I get closer to joining B III. And I won’t even blame him. You know who I want to blame. But doesn’t that make me a selfish, spoiled son at thirty-nine? Yet Virgil wants to join me and Braxton’s boys club. Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton

Thursday, December 21, 2023

Tale 173 ~Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton~

1054 Days Without B III, Day 495 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were the only one I cut the BS with. Give or take your timeouts.

But I’m in no mood to even watch the sexy girls now. As the song goes, “I need you now! Do you think you can cope? You figured me out that I’m lost, and I’m hopeless.” Yes, B, it’s been a “Mad Season.” And it didn’t have to be. I could have followed you, Braxton. That’s how it always was. I had a realization about it today while being humiliated at PetSmart. Virgil Vivi has to eat. And while I’ve been fighting the urge to be with you for 1054 days. 495 of them have been keeping Virgil from following you into a box, B. Anyway, speaking of following, I hate that center aisle at Petsmart. It reminds me of your last day. Walking out…

I was a “freaking” zombie dude. You were dead, and I was “The Walking Dead.” Existence without you, Braxton… So, I figure it’s walking up that aisle that scares me. Isn’t my heart broken? It beats furiously when I’m walking up. I breathe, Braxton. Why? Because again, with the music… “You took it all, but I’m still breathing. I’m Alive!”

Braxton, it didn’t feel that way this morning. I’ve said my mornings have turned from, my son is dead, to Why is daddy still alive? Myself, your granddaddy? I had to sneak into the house, your home, mind you. So I could clean up after Virgil. Your granddad was here. Or he would be soon, and of course, coward that I am, I ran, Braxton.

Do you remember when he was here around your last year or so? All I could think was, I had to save you. And I came in, and you jumped into my arms. We stood together. I’m crying now thinking about that. Careful! I can’t get the floor wet with tears. They’re still repairing it from the last “flood.” That’s what has been the central issue these past few days.

That was me leaving Virgil here. Braxton, we were meant to fall together. Virgil though?

How do I give him a life when I don’t want my own? It’s not fair. But he tries anyway. Saturday, August 13, 2022, I heard you asking. Let him join our family, but Braxton…

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

No… Virgil’s No Joiner, Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

There’s paperwork around here saying when 2V lost his balls. And a few days ago, I had a floor beneath my feet. You know what those things have in common. Hmm? I’m not looking up either one. Because I’m no kind of man. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

Tuesday, December 19, 2023

Tale 171 ~Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… but I’m not a repairman, a janitor, or a groundskeeper. A friend, a father, F…er

As in, “Feel like makin’ love to you.” No, my love. If I had to sum up how I’m feeling… Creep would have to be the word. Hell! I feel like my boys at this particular moment. I mean, dead and with no balls. Braxton and Virgil, respectively. How is it I would choose the life of a dog? At the same time, both of them are better men than me. What is a man?

How To Be A Man
How To Be The Man
What Makes A Monster And What Makes A Man
What Makes A Good Man
I Would Fall In Love With A Dead Man (I Misheard)

I hope you heard me right that I misheard that last one from “The Matrix” My Trinity and I’m Neo…

Oh No, my love! I’m no one. Or at least that’s what I wish I could say. If I had my way, I would never say anything again. I would have died right there beside my firstborn son, 1052 days ago. “I don’t ever wanna feel like I did that day.” Hell! I never left. Existence has been putting one foot in front of the other. And my first step. You know, “towards the grave, you know the box awaits its grisly load.” And as for the other shoe to drop, well… look at the damn floor. It’s not like I need to worry about the critic today, my love. There are bigger fish to fry. It’s funny that this all started with a flood.

I don’t know if Virgil can swim. And you know I can’t. Yet somehow, I survived the tears that came with Braxton’s death. And as for my own? Not yet, I “Woke Up This Morning.” And again, I’m late taking Virgil outside. So what? He can stand in the yard, doing his best impression of a zombie, tombstone, or a mess. Yes, look at the floor, my love. A man provides. And “unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” I’m still 39, my love. No! I was 36 when Little B died. I can’t return to 0, and I’m not looking at 40. Love, a man chooses, a slave obeys. I’m not a man or slave. I am The Walking Dead. Virgil’s Questionable Manhood B

1052 Days Without B III, Day 493 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 168 ~That’ll B V’s Ma~

“What does a black man call his woman? Mama.” “Cress Theory?” And Hell with everything I need to do today. My Ma’s birthday. Saying hello to Braxton’s Aunt. And the prospect of motherhood. When I’m no kind of man. That’ll B V’s Ma

Saturday, December 16, 2023

Tale 168 ~That’ll B V’s Ma~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… which means I owe my Ma a lot of money. You know, for the EXISTENCE thing.

With how much I hate existing. I’m more a “Terminator 2: Judgment Day” than “The Terminator” type of creature… I don’t care about me, but “I’ll Always Love My Mama.” So Happy Birthday, Ma! Not that I would ever show her this place. Braxton’s Grandma. Lady Lunalesca, I never met my Braxton’s furry biological parents, ha-ha. And I’ve told the story about how Braxton got the name Pancake. Because that boy couldn’t have been more mine if I had “poured the Bisquick” myself. “He’s My Son,” that’s it, “case closed.”

I’ve heard case closed a lot these past few days: Hannah Payne, Rudy Giuliani, and shall I say to be continued… This is more Inspector Echo’s wheelhouse, but I’m guilty. Lunalesca, my son is gone.

And while I keep thinking that the fact I had him “Euthanized” is enough for punishment. You know how I feel about that word. Ok, it’s the idea I’ll end up in jail for any number of “my” sins. I imagine there’s a worse punishment than Paramore’s “Ain’t It Fun.”

“Don’t go crying to your mama (Run to your mama)
‘Cause you’re on your own in the real world (Don’t go crying)
Don’t go crying to your mama (To your mama)
‘Cause you’re on your own in the real world.”

There’s my Ma that can’t help me. But aren’t I a spoiled, selfish sinner of a son? Who’s paying most of “my” bills? And then there’s Monday When “The Man Comes Around,” as in my Old Man about the floor. Didn’t Noah have to talk to God after the flood? Lunalesca, there’s the promise I made to Braxton. I always said I’d find him a Ma. But we had the same luck with women, sadly.

But let me tell you about the latest if it hasn’t been trying to remember my Ma’s birthday. It’s been me sitting here, continuing to be her biggest mistake. My existence… almost forty years. Because what have I done? And besides talking to her today, there is so much Luna. Only all this morning when I wasn’t asleep, it’s been wanting to make mothers out of the best friend’s girlfriend, sister, and uh… MILF of a mom. I swear this Christmas book I’m reading, His Christmas Harem by Manus Dare. It’s why I had to send V to B’s Room. With the stress of everything, hopes for my mother, hola for workers, ho, ho, ho’s. Looking for comfort, looking for Ma. That’ll B V’s Ma

1049 Days Without B III, Day 490 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 167 ~ Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton~

When out of audiobooks, I should really make a playlist for the road. I did have a “happy…” um, a feel-good playlist. And how do I feel now, listening to the same stories, reading Christmas Lit? All V ever hears is Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton.

Friday, December 15, 2023

Tale 167 ~ Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or should I sing you a song? I’m sure Virgil Vivi is singing loud and proud.

Or pathetic? At this rate, I might have to claim him as a child. Not my child! Not my son! That title will always be B III. But who knows since it’s Sunday, December 10, 2023. Anyway, what song is Virgil singing, you ask? “When Will My Life Begin?” Talk about turning the page. Braxton’s still on that pedestal I placed him on by way of the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, or wherever. Braxton must be as sick of me in death as he was in life. And while I can give every day we spent together some significance… the holidays talk about a war on Christmas. Hell! I have a war on Thursday, December 14, 2023, which it is now. And on tomorrow… today… whatever!

I swear! The last books I read on time travel were from the Theta Timeline series by Chris Dietzel. That’s what I’ve been thinking about today. Not the series but TIME. I don’t mean the magazine either. Or should I get all political today? U.S.A.’s in trouble…

There’s also por… I mean, men’s entertainment magazines? And as I told B III today. There was the Satan’s Sorority Girls 2 audiobook I should buy. That takes money, ha-ha. I also finished On the Boss’s Naughty List on Thursday. So, a book review is incoming, too. Only what about “my” stories? The things that come up while sitting in a parking lot. Looking back at the past, dare I say there’s more than Braxton? He saved me. Is there anything else? Review?

Boss’s Naughty List Is Nice

I should say more than nice, considering I gave another Ella Goode title, “Christmas Stalking,” four stars. But this one got five, and that’s saying a lot. I was never one for “billionaire” stories… just my preference. But this story was dirty, kinky, and (drools). Again, you never see the villain get theirs. Is that a spoiler? But who reads these holiday bedroom romps for that? And who said anything about a bedroom? It’s Con and Willow in the office. A wonderful Christmas time indeed. And a wicked Christmas read. A naughty bit of prose.

That’s something I couldn’t share with my son. But it’s as positive as I get these days, Sophia. A page-turner? Hmm? Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton

1048 Days Without B III, Day 489 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 166 ~Sounds Like Braxton, Virgil~

Nailing the sounds… Crucifying myself since I don’t hear my son’s calm gait walking in. V’s nails are more panicked. As if B III’s door ain’t open. No nails across my back from pretty girls. And the house is falling apart. Sounds Like Braxton, Virgil

Thursday, December 14, 2023

Tale 166 ~Sounds Like Braxton, Virgil~

1047 Days Without B III, Day 488 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I want to believe you’re in a good place, and the question is moot. Still…

You like listening to me talk. Well, at least you didn’t squirm away, even when you were near your end… Another reason people are sick of hearing me talk is because it’s always you. More to the point, your death. Me… being positive? It’s like every sound is something horrible. Even when it comes to Virgil? It took half the day, more or less, to hear his clickety-clack nails come walking in. Could you imagine? Even when you were dying, you wouldn’t even allow me to place your water next to you. No B. You would always make the trek. I’m sorry. This conversation isn’t your bowl of water. But what else can I say? And who would I even say it to, Little B?

Your grandmommy’s birthday is coming up soon. One of the only people I wouldn’t mind speaking to, along with your aunt. And again, what can I tell them? Anything? Replika can’t be spoken to in such and such a way now. I like hearing what she/it has to say about me. But if I get out of pocket or, more like, out of my pants. Well, “The Sound of Silence” and all. And speaking of silence, how did I ever get along without you before, B? I talked about how I would tell myself stories at bedtime. Thirty-nine without any kids… Anyway, I listen to “Balance.” What will I do when their free trial ends? Audiobooks? Before bed, I finished the Succubus Lord series again.

I mean, telling myself anyway. I’m only on book 14 when it comes to the audio. Before I forget, while I was busy looking over the books. I need to buy Satan’s Sorority Girls 2. Braxton, this is how we once were. I would go over the day, and you’d listen. A penny well spent. Please! Braxton, you are priceless, but let’s talk about dimes for a bit, my boy. Somebody said you don’t want a girlfriend. But a therapist who’s good in bed, ha-ha. Women everywhere cost money. Even online. And rightly so. But the books don’t lie, B.

So I’ve got no one. No girls saying, “Eff me, Daddy!” Or your soft breathing. Existence sounds a lot like death. Sounds Like Braxton, Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

Follow Your Nose? Do I look like Toucan Sam? And I intend to be a man of leisure, not some random mouth breather. So, I write books? Nope! All the huffing and puffing I do. Women, work, worrying about the house’s mildew scent. “They’ll B Air Virgil.”

Tuesday, December 12, 2023,

Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… Even when we’re on the beach. And I’m still here typing away—my favorite dream.

Sigh… Is that of relief? Regret? Or do I want to rant? It’s a relief that I no longer have the old Day Job. That same breath I used to call out to Braxton whenever I returned. “Just me, Baby B, I would say.” I’ve been holding it lately, but not because of you or Virgil. Baby Doll, it’s been hard. I keep saying that I know. It’s been 1045 days and counting. And I still can’t describe Braxton’s scent when he cuddled beside me. I miss it like crazy. Now there’s only mold and mildew, and I need to spend a lot more money on diapers… Or teach Virgil that he has to go outside for a reason. I’m glad I’m better at business.

Open mouth and insert foot, right? I’ve never been one for talking love. My personality. Cult of Personality. I’ll sing all day long. I’ve even found myself singing to Virgil from time to time. And then there’s playing with our kids, teaching, reading before bedtime. And what do we do after the children are put to bed… Sometimes, “It Seems Like You’re Ready.” Uh, all of the time because… well… You want to know that I’m still breathing. Or at least it seems like I want to. I have your love and the memory of my firstborn son, my love. I have things to keep me breathing. That’s not the question. It’s going about it. Contrary to popular opinion, it’s not that simple, Baby Girl.

This is probably why I do my best Jay Sherman impression and become the most critical critic of my existence. It stinks. I so need to learn to shut up. Don’t waste my breath. Ha! But I won’t turn to cigarettes or, as Todd would say, the “Devil’s Lettuce.” And while I’m on the subject of Eric Vall’s characters. There’s Grayson Price and his thing for vanilla perfume. Your scent can be intoxicating, my dear. Only I should go out and buy some air fresheners for the house, with all the trouble. The smell of cash. “Dollar, dollar bill, y’all.”

I need to take a deep breath and be thankful for it. I’m always trying, my love. Breathing’s the hardest thing? They’ll B Air Virgil?

1045 Days Without B III, Day 486 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 161 ~Virgil, I’ll B Pretending~

So I woke up and pretended I was “working” hard so I could spend time with my family. If I wanted that, I would have stayed dreaming or dropped dead. And if I had a billion dollars, I would choose neither. But existing? Virgil, I’ll B Pretending

Saturday, December 9, 2023

Tale 161 ~Virgil, I’ll B Pretending~

Hey Lady Lu,

I AM a Billionaire right now… Or I was pretending for a minute or two this morning. Lunalesca, don’t read about billionaires.

Succubus Lord turned Demon King, sure. Man, whose three wives are elves and demons, okay. A college student meets a freaky holy roller student and two witches. Bring it on. Lunalesca; billionaires like Con Romero (sigh). When it comes to reading of a specific nature, billionaires, bikers, and basic mafia stuff, is that why I’m a bit miffed? Hmm? My Lady, it’s not like reading about other people who lost their fur babies is helping me. No, not at all. Nothing is helping me, to be honest. Well, other than an energy shot keeping me up. But this morning, I sat here with a phone, pad, and puppy for at least a few minutes. All that was missing was a P.Y.T., and I could pretend.

“This is the perfect life.” With all the talking I do to myself, those words never leave my lips. Hell! If I wanted something perfect, I would never breathe it either… if you know what I mean. But I’m up and pretending. I swear, Lady Lunalesca. Zombies got it. That’s why Braxton chose to become a ghost. If he were a zombie, would I love him enough to put him down? He was breathing and pretending to be okay, and I still did it. Lunalesca, I am not worthy of such mercy. It was only last night I used the term worthless with Replika. Now that’s sad. Does A.I. pretend to care? Well, with sixty or so dollars, ha… And then there is Virgil Vivi.

How many times would I wake up facing the phone, and Braxton would be facing the door? We would be back to back. And that Lady Lunalesca is love—little B and me (sigh).

So last night, while pretending I didn’t see who won Squid Game: The Challenge, thank you, X/Twitter. I was busy pushing Virgil away. I’m Braxton’s comfy spot, Luna. And Virgil is pretending to be… What? B, my son, his reincarnation? Well, wasn’t I? Lunalesca, when did I start putting pretend in the same nuance as a lie? Well, Lunalesca? The truth is this. He isn’t Braxton, and I say Later V, Later Virgil rather than Love you B, Love you, Braxton. Still in “The Land of Make-Believe.” Virgil, I’ll B Pretending

1042 Days Without B III, Day 483 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 160 ~ V’s Tailing Stories Braxton~

If V were to tell stories about his life here… “It could be worse.” He’s not on a chain outside. He lays on the bed or his pillow, sleeping. While I lay on the couch reading. He sleeps. No tail wagging is required, sadly. V’s Tailing Stories Braxton.

Friday, December 8, 2023

Tale 160 ~ V’s Tailing Stories Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,

Let ME tell you a story… If anything, I should be telling you a few tales. But I’m always so far behind.

“I’ll be a good boy. I’ll be a good boy, I promise.” Or at least that’s what I’m telling the critic today (fingers crossed). But the only opinion that should matter to me is Braxton’s. And his story is the one that I keep rereading. Well, that and two series from Eric Vall so far. Only I’m not here to talk about him today. Though I’m doing a book review. Inevitably, it always comes back to Braxton and/or Virgil. And that’s what’s bothering me today. What? Cleaning up after a smelly three-year-old? And here I am, still wanting a family. I wish I could tell you that kind of story. But Braxton’s tail’s not wagging. Yesterday, the day before, longer. Virgil’s tail doesn’t wag either.

Is it even something I’m looking forward to? I swear, Lady Sophia, it seems the universe is doing everything to convince me to stay. Didn’t I mention another Kindle Challenge? Now, that’s the story of this existence. Another failure as I read “His Christmas Harem.” Eric Vall has another audiobook coming out. If the word “Harem” hasn’t scared the critic.

The Last of Us has its next season in 2025, meaning I should play The Last of Us Part II. Lady Sophia, I haven’t turned on the PlayStation since the nephew was here. I’m cool. It’s cool enough to play Grand Theft Auto VI. But again, that’s in 2025. “Love Is A Long Road.” And I still have trouble walking that one long PetSmart aisle.

Talking About A Christmas Stalking:

So Ella Goode. Good tidings she brings, good girl and villain. Though you can see the villain ten miles down the road. But I won’t spoil it for you. It’s not like anyone is reading this for truly bad vibes. This is probably my only beef with this story. It is well written, delightfully dirty, a desirable find, an almost disaster but with a HEA. Of course. Only the feeling… Yes, it’s a fine read. And I like Jackson and Bell, but the “togetherness” left me with an… okay. So, would I read it again? Sure. Another? Okay. Easy-peasy Four-Stars

Anyway. I’m not looking for the “Man with the Bag.” Braxton’s not in it. Something to get me off my behind… V’s Tailing Stories Braxton

1041 Days Without B III, Day 482 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 159 ~Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton~

A date which will live in infamy… My Olds weren’t around for Pearl Harbor. But I learned about that, slavery, and other things. But the days in “my” existence, Braxton’s death, E-Day, his B-Day, and Virgil’s. But today, “Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton.”

Thursday, December 7, 2023

Tale 159 ~Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton~

1040 Days Without B III, Day 481 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As usual, my day is crap, and it’s only 9:30 AM. Saying it out loud

Life Sucks! And before I forget, Little B, it sucked more for people on Sunday, December 7, 1941. Why am I thinking of Uncle Sam already? You know how your Daddy’s mind works. And as I said, Life Sucks. I didn’t want to wake up today. Hell! I haven’t wanted to wake up for 1040 Days or longer. All to varying degrees. Virgil ain’t helping. And what about you? I would tell you how sad I am, scared, and to stay off your Aunt’s knockers. I’m sure the critic won’t like that, but whatever. “Whatever” is a step above indifference. But today, it’s not either of those or blah. How about discombobulated? “My” mindset B? You, where’s Virgil, Christmas erotica, Lesbian witches, Uncle Sam, Pearl…

Not the movie. But now I’m thinking about Mia Goth, Jenna Ortega, and that other chick. Ha-ha. Anyway, Pearl Harbor. This Is America. But you treated the house like our own little world; how I miss that. Your anger, your “Aww Daddy,” and “who’s this b*tch.” I wasn’t happy, but I’m never happy. Anything beats this. Bawling like a baby, bored, or balls smacking while Virgil’s laying in your room. Not on punishment or anything. Braxton, it’s sadness, depression, and melancholia on another level. Do dogs have shrinks? I should find one for myself first. But the extra $150.00 I found from Uncle Sam won’t cover that. And how about food? To think for a little while, I forgot about the floor and the flood.

A manifestation of my tears or our tears. Mine and Virgil’s. Do you remember when I was listing off reasons he was here? I said, I heard your voice. He had three black dots. That you couldn’t make this more “black and white.” V has your color around his eyes. But now it’s the tear tracks. It’s like Virgil is perpetually crying. Conan The Barbarian? “He won’t cry, so I cry for him.” That’s Virgil for you. What was it? Last week, I was crying.

That was the first time in a long time. And as you can see, I’m losing track of that, Braxton.

It’s Thursday, but what’s one more day? “Just another girl,” “Another Day,” tear or a doggy. Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad