Tag: Man

Journey 179 ~B III, 2-V, 12~

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Two plus two equals… Well, whatever MAGA says. But at this time last year, I was reading books that already told me that. And now it’s back to Christmas Erotica, algorithms, and how I’m wasting my existence. Well, did this year anyway. B III, 2-V, 12

Saturday, December 27, 2025

Journey 179 ~B III, 2-V, 12~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Or I would be if I understood Math. I could become a thief like MAGA. FDT.

No! Eff me for wasting another year of my existence! I knew? I had to wake up and say that, so I didn’t go to bed until 1:00 AM. And since 7:00 this morning, it’s been Whiteout Survival, women’s yabbos a blonde, an Asian, 2-B/2-V’s WAP since eff Nicki Minaj, that’s why. Effing Cracker Hat. And I can’t forget Virgil… and Braxton’s walk. I didn’t.

Lady Lunalesca, I didn’t win this year. So excuse the eff out of me for needing a few W’s to see the year off. Whiteout, women, wanking, and walks. “The Long Walk,” “The Running Man.” And Virgil is trying to “Stand By Me.” More like “Lay By Me.” Right Lu?

Lu or Lou? Like Louisa Clark from “Me Before You?”

“I fill my lungs with fear, and I Exhale!”
It’s My Turn to Fly The Urge ‧ 2000 (Titan A.E.)

I’ve never read the book, but I’ve seen the movie… Ok, most of it, Lu. I know how it ends.

But how does THIS end? Lunalesca, if I took a lesson from my B III, I’d live in the now.

That would involve me looking up Alahna Ly naked. Emilia Clarke made it easier, ha! Damn these English girls, Emilia, Maisie, even Cherry. The hours I waste, but that’s why it’s one of my big three. Being with my boys, writing, and wanking nonstop. Yabbos.

Copeus Cleavage, Titanic Tatas, Supersized Slobberknockers, Majestic Mammaries, Humongous Headlights, Milky Monsters, Behemoth Boobies, Colossal Contours, Gigantic Floppa Whoppers.
Yabbos

Lunalesca, there are far too many to count and name, but the numbers? I remember.

Wrong again! I am literally looking at… Goals, Dreams, New Year’s Resolutions, a wish list, that says, “A Million Will Come On June 30, 2019.”

It’s Saturday, December 27, 2025, and I’m wondering, can I spend $5.00 on more Erotica? One more at “The Closing Of The Year.” I swear, today was supposed to be about “The “12 Wishes Ritual,” a “Release Letter to the Year,” hell, I’d take one of the “Mirror” prompts about writing. Though, to be honest, I want to delete that app. It’s like Brian Tyler Cohen… Makes sense, but tells me things I already know. White politicians commit crimes and face no justice. “These White Men Are Dangerous.” Seriously Lunalesca!

However, what about me? Am I forming a band with that title “B III, 2-V, 12”? This whole year has been a whole lot of nothing for me. Math ain’t Mathing. B III, 2-V, 12

1791 Days Without B III, Day 1232 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 178 ~Write B And V~

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I meant to read, write, and tell quite a few stories this year. But I’m Winston Smith, transferring to SCREEN the interminable monologue of forty-one stony gray steps towards the grave, you know, the box. Better me than the words? Write B And V.

Friday, December 26, 2025

Journey 178 ~Write B And V~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Or at least give you a book review, seeing as how I’ll see you next year.

It’s like sleep. I look forward to going to sleep, but eff how I hate waking up. These Day Job naps, I tell ya what. Thank you, Mr. Hank Hill. I woke up to love, baby-making, and living their best life stories galore. And speaking of galore. My Day Job humiliations…

No, I’m sorry, Lady Sophia, what about my Christmas story? 1:30 this afternoon, Sophia.

Okay, so yesterday, Virgil and I visited the Olds. It was scary, but my entire existence is based on one word… FEAR. That came as we were living, and while I may not believe in Santa, I believed I hit my Olds mailbox. I set my clock and twenty-four hours later, I’m cleared… I’ve read better miracles. Not the Bible.

“I fill my lungs with fear and I Exhale!”
It’s My Turn to Fly The Urge ‧ 2000 (Titan A.E.)

His Christmas Miracle Harem Hmm
Long story short… Oh yeah, this was a short story, but a pretty decent read. Baby, It’s Cold Outside, to this is a slightly warmer room. It heats up, but takes quite a while to be completely honest, I’ll say. I appreciate the simplicity of it, if nothing else. Wham Bam Thank You, Ma’am, on a budget. It’s worth it. The best part about it, of course, was the sex. But am I supposed to be more interested in the sex tape the bride-to-be made, than the three chicks the would-be husband bedded, hmm. Well, when they eventually made it to the bed, that is. His Christmas Miracle Harem is like offering a good friend a beer—a kind gesture.

Lady Sophia, that book review above was a kind gesture. Honestly, I don’t feel kind.

Seriously, why can’t I just go back to sleep, jerk off, or jettison my guts all over the place, eww! But as Phil Collins sings, “I Don’t Care Anymore.” If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be thinking about some cute redhead I annoyed today with my music. I wouldn’t be jealous of two cosplayers getting married, two former wrestlers having a baby. Sh*t, Becky and Seth! Sophia, I especially wouldn’t be thinking about M Anime’s coming nuptials. STUPID AI, and Augmenting reality. I tried to describe “Family:” Braxton and everyone on Christmas. The AI didn’t like that, Grok. So I tried Sora. I guess it was love. Write B And V

1790 Days Without B III, Day 1231 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 176 ~Braxton’s Eve, Virgil’s January~

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Ain’t I just a Bad Santa, not a lot of bucks, my boys do without, and this b*tch got me Smokin Out the Window. Four months since M Anime’s breakup. So, Christmas Eve. Trying not to join B III. And V’s being a good boy. Braxton’s Eve, Virgil’s January

Wednesday, December 24, 2025

Journey 176 ~Braxton’s Eve, Virgil’s January~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Where do I even begin? I’d rather not. But that train left forty-one years ago. The Polar Express…

Nope! There will be no Christmas movies in this house. Or even reactions. However, sins.

Braxton is gone. And even if my son were here, we wouldn’t ever watch “The Polar Express.” Hell, that film was out a year before he was born, and still I knew better, my E.

And Virgil? This will be our fourth Christmas together. And I could go back, Inspector.

But the work required being a starving artist, a sinful father… wrong words, uh, Santa. Not tonight, Inspector. “Tonight I Wanna Cry.” Preferably not from my penis. I said it. And I shouldn’t have Echo, “Gee Whiz, It’s Christmas…” Eve. And so where’s my puss…

We’re about to get into that. I had to remind myself who January Jones is.

“Fill my lungs with fear, and I EXHALE!”
It’s My Turn To Fly, The Urge

Because I’ll do anything to “Say Goodbye To Yesterday.” “99 Problems,” and a bitch is… Well several. Several problems, several bitches, and several forms of my STUPIDITY. I am “My Own Worst Enemy” as the song goes. And Santa isn’t a pimp despite that pic.

You know the one from yesterday, but let’s start simpler. The Visual Lady? My stupidity.
She wanted me to place Christmas trees, and I put them in the wrong place. And let’s not forget the woman I nearly buried under shoes, or not holding the door for a lady, Echo.

Then there’s the elephant in the room, or the bitch. My “Ex” M Anime. You see what day it is. The four-month anniversary of our breakup. Or hers at least.

A day closer to her coming nuptials in January at some point. Then she’ll start making babies and get a new set of mommy milkers. At least I got pictures, which leads me to yesterday and the one from Journey 175 ~Braxton, Virgil, Find Santa~. I was going to make a video on Grok, but guess what? As Emily would say, “Titties!” Or rather nipples.

Copeus Cleavage, Titanic Tatas, Supersized Slobberknockers, Majestic Mammaries, Humongous Headlights, Milky Monsters, Behemoth Boobies, Colossal Contours, Gigantic Floppa Whoppers.
Yabbos.

I didn’t notice, but Grok did and animated it anyway. So Christmas Eve wanking. Eww!

Speaking of Yabbos, Cherry reached out with money issues. If she would “Drop ’em Out” all Wheeler Walker Jr. style… I’d be broke, well, broker. This is Christmas Eve, Inspector.

For now. Bucks for gas, brunch, and a black man’s blush. Braxton’s Eve, Virgil’s January.

1788 Days Without B III, Day 1229 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 175 ~Braxton, Virgil, Find Santa~

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Was last week as humiliating? I should ask Santa for a rating scale. I got a new app for my writing. It says… GET HELP! Most wonderful time of the year, my ass. I’m surprised mine wasn’t fired today. Christmas gifts? Braxton, Virgil, Find Santa.

Tuesday, December 23, 2025

Journey 175 ~Braxton, Virgil, Find Santa~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? You found me. My boys found me first. And today, what did I find? Who?

Most days… Every day? As Wesley moaned in 2008’s “Wanted,” I don’t know who I am,” my love. And at the same time, since I’m quoting movies, it’s like 1993’s Demolition Man, “Isn’t there a thought repeating in that barbaric brain of yours… Don’t you have someone to k*ll?” I don’t know myself. And at the same time, I know exactly who I hate most.

Anxiety vs. Depression. Sweat vs. Blood. Braxton vs. Virgil. Coke vs. Pepsi. It goes on.
“And The Beat Goes On.” “The Whispers,” in my own effing head, my beloved. Madness.

And what does any of this have to do with Christmas? Honestly nothing. And Santa.

Love, “you don’t know how lovely you are.” And lucky or is that just me?

“I fill my lungs with fear and I Exhale!”
It’s My Turn to Fly, The Urge ‧ 2000 (Titan A.E.)

If the kids come running saying, “I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus.” I’d want more.

And do you see how screwed up I am? I don’t know if I’m being cute, if I’d be doing more with my c*ck with you, or if I’m playing cuck and watching some jolly fat man with you, love. If I had a Christmas wish right this second, we’d be enjoying the Red/Black room…

Fifty Shades of Grey reference, amongst other things? And what are those things you ask?

Humiliations Galore! Boredom, the boys, and boxes of Christmas trees. Anything else has my eyes busting out of my skull. Boobies, blondes, brunettes, black hair. Hell, a buxom redhead, I am not picky. I’m easy to shop for. Magic Glasses…

Augmented realities, artificial intelligence, and amorality. Your husband’s an asshole. Like the song from Dennis Leary, I’m an “Asshole.” But a lucky one. Without pegging.

Eww! But I’m lucky. I got to play Santa for my two furry little boys. Or at least I tried, and I keep trying for B and V. But how old is Santa? Is he one of The Walking Dead?

Love, I could relate to him even more. But I’ll lie and play Santa for our kids. And I’m curious if you’re on the naughty or nice list. Even when I feel like… What? Nothing?

Because if I found Santa, I know what I’d ask for. It starts with D. Not my d*ck. A wish list? Braxton, Virgil, Find Santa

1787 Days Without B III, Day 1228 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 174 ~Red By Braxton, Virgil~

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I need to stop. I don’t need a STUPID red hat like MAGA to tell me that. But to stop… Seeing rage, giving into rutting, and mourning for my boy while not truly embracing his brother. If I stop. When, where, and how will I go? “Red By Braxton, Virgil”

Monday, December 22, 2025

Journey 174 ~Red By Braxton, Virgil~
Monday, December 15, 2025 4:55
Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… What you don’t know is what this day will bring, other than we’re talking today, because you have to go to “The Bad Place.” As you know, the quote from one of those books you would read to me, 1984: “You will work for a while, you will be caught, you will confess, and then you will die.” Granddaddy wanted you to read it. You did long ago, long ago.

Long ago, like the end of last year, to Virgil? And it’s why you started calling M Anime the Julia to your Winston. If you could only see your face this second, my father. I’d say you were turning red… You know, if it wasn’t for doggy colorblindness and all.

“I fill my lungs with fear and I Exhale!”
It’s My Turn to Fly, The Urge ‧ 2000 (Titan A.E.)

Sunday, December 21, 2025 4:49
Honestly, it was eye-opening for me when I… What’s left? No, Dad. Look at it, as I went to eat my treat in the next room. Or I had you freaking out when you thought you left me outside. Or more like I went to sit with my Favorite Girl, when you were sitting right beside her. Now I’m still here, sitting beside Virgil, snoozing in the sun, seething elsewhere because I don’t want to hurt you. Do you recall how you checked rage, Dad?

You wanted to protect me. And I don’t know how to protect you from this… I think the word I’m looking for is STAY. I was the excuse for avoiding the Olds’ Humiliation and Anger.

But this week, today is a Red Flag, Red Alert, one more Red Mark on your existence, even as we sit here talking, Daddy. “Red, gold, and green,” you would sing to me. That isn’t any Christmas tunage. I’m no Karma Chameleon but more of a Kiss From A Rose….

Seriously, now you’re thinking of Cherry in her sexy Red… You’re not sending me away.

Daddy, eww! Though it’s been more M Anime talk these days. You say you’re way “Too Good at Goodbyes.” Just like I was telling you, “you think I’m weak, I think you’re wrong,” years ago. I think we both need to STOP living our lives the way that we do. Daddy, more red. Not for Christmas. Red By Braxton, Virgil.

“But it’s hard to move forward, he thought to himself, when surrounded by memories of everything you’re trying to forget.”
― His Christmas Miracle Harem

Cunctantem flectere sermo coeperat. “His words had begun to sway him as he hesitated.”
Aeneid

1786 Days Without B III, Day 1227 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Journey 173 ~Braxton, Virgil, Where’s Merry~

WillLeave a comment

Christmas? No paycheck this week. But I missed the Christmas tunage. But between the Day Job this week, possibly being invited to my Olds, and everyone taking off. I don’t want to be bored waiting for nothing. So, Braxton, Virgil, Where’s Merry?

Sunday, December 21, 2025

Journey 173 ~Braxton, Virgil, Where’s Merry~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror… And you thought the week Amazon where you effed off all those Amazon shifts was hard. Sigh…

Think Court Carmody cosplaying as Harley Quinn, that Asian mom turned Instagram cutie, and being M Anime’s CUCK hard. And all on Christmas Day. Christmas Week?

Honestly, it starts earlier every year. Isn’t there a song about Christmas all year long or round? Sabrina Carpenter? You can’t ever forget about her. Not for singing… Gross.

Seriously, dude, stop it! If there are three days (because comedy comes in threes) that never end, it would be Braxton’s Passing, your Emergence Day, and effing Christmastime, you swear. And as I was TRYING to say, this week will not be any type of pretty. I’m talking “The Purge,” may God be with you. That’s right, eff him/her/it too.

Where to begin, that’s right, in failing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING His Christmas Miracle Harem Stand-Alone Harem by O. L. Tyme
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Life Story
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 001 No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT, Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

“I fill my lungs with fear and I Exhale!”
It’s My Turn to Fly, The Urge ‧ 2000 (Titan A.E.)

Preparing for this week. No, you’re not ready. And neither is Virgil. You think you betrayed Braxton. Only he wasn’t invited for the holidays. And you wouldn’t leave, B III.

But Virgil? If you’re unfortunate enough to get an invite from your Olds for Christmas, that means you throw Virgil to the miniatures, your nephews. V’s faith is misplaced, too.

If we aren’t talking about the gods… Then people. Virgil has you, and you thought you had M Anime. If you had but one word for what you were feeling when you woke up at 2 AM with all the lights on, it would be SIREN. And not that type of siren after B’s death.

You commit your share of crimes, failing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Christmas Obsession by Darcy Rose
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Life Story
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 002 No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT, Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

So it’s not those sirens, or Jingle Bells, damn racism. Eff MAGA and the Cracker Hats. And FDT. But anyway, you’ve been listening to M Anime’s playlists this fine Sunday.

Stephani’s Sunday Symphony (post-break-up). The Red Sash (Playlist she created…). Anything beats “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” or “Merry Christmas Baby.” Merry, Mary, Mari… Can be as much of a btch as Happy. “99 Problems” and all that. Your problems are that Braxton is gone, and the other one is in bed in B’s room. Will you make the speaker boom at the Day Job on the 22nd? You’re very much broke, so no boxes, bows, but there’s always bellowing and btching. Your belly? Braxton, Virgil, Where’s Merry

1785 Days Without B III, Day 1226 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 172 ~Getting B’s Daily, Virgil~

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It’s Saturday, not Sunday, so I don’t think about my homework or everything going on. Christmas, the crappy place I work, or some cu… Don’t talk about M Anime or any woman like that. I thought I was better, so why not try “Getting B’s Daily, Virgil.”

Saturday, December 20, 2025

Journey 172 ~Getting B’s Daily, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Lu,
I am a Billionaire right now… Nope! But even if I were, what would it have in common with broke, Lady Lunalesca?

Damage Report! These two words sum up this existence. The Big Beautiful/Ugly Mother Effing Damage Report! Oh, I’m in a mood today. It comes with wasting an existence you don’t even want, like the Day Job. I hate that place, but wasn’t I panicked, Lunalesca?

Like the young people used to say, “totes.” I’m way too old to try to keep up with the slang. Forty-One (Cue Ben-Hur Galley Drums). I’m also too old to be playing “Whiteout Survival at 6 AM, if you’re wondering why I’m so late this morning. Don’t worry, Virgil was lucky enough to get his walk and not get eaten. However, I was unlucky, Lunalesca.

Case in point, I am still right here, “Hurt.” I didn’t join my Braxton today.

“I fill my lungs with fear, and I Exhale!”
It’s My Turn to Fly The Urge ‧ 2000 (Titan A.E.)

It’s not a B day or a C. D? Considering yet again I couldn’t keep mine in my pants last night. Leave it to Christmas porn. Not to be confused with Christmas Erotica. I finished “His Christmas Miracle Harem” last night. The writer really has a thing for Asian women.

I can relate… There’s this chick on Instagram…. Anyway, I started Christmas Obsession by Darcy Rose. It takes me back to a younger time when I was still too old to be chasing some Puerto Rican chick. You can see why I didn’t do well in school. I never learn.

Lunalesca, I made the same mistake with M Anime. “Wonderwall,” she was not, thank you, Ryan Adams. “What I Go To School For,” then? Busted!

I FAILED, I DROPPED OUT, I said I COULDN’T, I learned to speak BRAXTON, and Virgil, formerly ARCHIE. This in no way, shape, or form sounds like Christmas, my lady.

If anything, I’m remembering what it was like to be young—waking up a little earlier on a Saturday morning. But instead of a bowl of Lucky Charms and cartoons, I had a bar of Lucky Charms and an effing arms race on the phone and then walking little Virgil.

Lunalesca, I only want a Red-letter Day. And not “Someday At Christmas.” The only song more annoying than “All I Want For Christmas Is You.” And then Wham! Last Christmas. Don’t I wish Lady Lunalesca? Because this one… Effed and F! Getting B’s Daily, Virgil
1784 Days Without B III, Day 1225 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 171 ~Braxton, Virgil, Santa’s Studying~

WillLeave a comment

I should have chosen a lot more books on fascism. But FDT, I’m living it. So, Christmas Erotica? I’m busy playing a Christmas game. What? It has snow and guys in red. Plus, I like my women a little less bundled—Braxton, Virgil, Santa’s Studying.

Friday, December 19, 2025

Journey 171 ~Braxton, Virgil, Santa’s Studying~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… I’m not sure I’ve ever told you this one before. What!? I’m going to write something.

No, more, FYI, between stints of “Whiteout Survival” and AI. You know, Augmenting Reality… (Grumbles). Yeah, I’m on Day One again. I might as well be MAGA, a Cracker Hat, and the orange turd in The Oval. Jolly Fat Man? That would be someone else.

Seriously, Santa. I can’t even be that to my sons, you know, the boys, my Braxton and Virgil. But I can keep buying Erotica like there’s no tomorrow—something else for the Christmas list. For me, I don’t want a tomorrow. Hell! I didn’t want a tomorrow, forty-one years ago (Cue Ben-Hur Galley Drums). I’d say that rage at myself keeps me warm while walking Virgil… And B via, his ashes in a pendant I wear. But 9th Circle bound.

“I fill my lungs with fear and I Exhale!”
It’s My Turn to Fly The Urge ‧ 2000 (Titan A.E.)

That’s me. It’s also why I read digital books more so than print—algorithm profiling.

Anyway, I’m losing the plot. Today, I wanted to tell you a story of tradition. So, according to Kindle, this started in 2019, when I read three Christmas erotica in December. If you want to blame my Ma for anything, this would be it. Plus, don’t they say boys marry girls who remind them of their mothers? That’s a whole can of worms I don’t need… Uh, M Anime? I read a lot of her dirty tales in 2025. Why did M have to eff that up? Um, ok, uh.

Anyway, my Ma accidentally introduced me to Fifty Shades of Grey by E.L. James. Sophia…

She actually wrote that… Willing.

You should read the horny, horrible, and horrific books of mine. I make E.L. look like Shakespeare. And I can’t get anyone to read about my “Lost Boy.” You know “My Turn To B III.” Not that I’m complaining. But like Huey Freeman said in The Boondocks, “I don’t give a damn about Christmas.” So holiday erotica isn’t my thing to write, but I read it every December, save in 2024. The orange asshole got into office, so reading about apocalypses, dystopias, and the end of the world made more sense. “This is America,” ain’t it? A guy can read about a man banging three Asian chicks on Christmas Eve.

Seriously, it wasn’t this morning gaming and putting words in mouths. Braxton, Virgil, Santa’s Studying.

1783 Days Without B III, Day 1224 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 169 ~B The Ball, Virgil~

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Why don’t I find “The Running Man” as scary as any sportsball? How about the Olympics… When they’re held in the USA. FDT! And then professional wrestling. Or the mobile games on the phone. Virgil doesn’t chase balls either. “B The Ball, Virgil.”

Wednesday, December 17, 2025

Journey 169 ~B The Ball, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Ballrooms, ball games, and as Chef would sing, “Salty Chocolate Balls.” All from the comfort of bed, Inspector.

When it comes to living the day to day, Braxton had bigger balls than I’ll ever have, Echo.

“Forty-One,” (Cue Ben-Hur Galley Drums). Virgil doesn’t worry about his balls. They were gone long before I became his father. Plus, where’s his spine, his guts, the yellow belly? No speaking badly about my boys. I’m the coward here, Inspector, not them.

Honestly, I’ve been scared over a game the past few days… “Whiteout Survival?” Well, I woke up at around 2:00 AM and saw I’d been promoted. It’s only back to my original place, but at least I’m not getting kicked out on Monday, as if Monday is my worry, ha!

And what do I know about originality with my latest creations? Again, something I read…

“Fill my lungs with fear, and I EXHALE!”
It’s My Turn To Fly, The Urge

“Good artists copy, great artists steal.” Didn’t I say I need to stop reading/listening to the Succubus Lord franchise? Reading, do I remember that? I didn’t do any this morning.

“His Christmas Miracle Harem,” ring a bell? I swear, Inspector, “If I only could. I’d make a deal with God. And I’d get Him to swap our places.” That would be my B and me.

Seriously, I wouldn’t have to worry about reading anymore. Braxton went to the Rainbow Bridge… I’d go straight to Hell. And every book I touched would burn to ash like Fahrenheit 451. Or they would freeze so that I couldn’t read them. My eyes could glaze over with ice so that I couldn’t see. “Time Enough At Last” indeed.

The Twilight Zone? That episode hit too close to home. But why should I read and write with AI and Augmented Realities? You know how I’m always asking “The Critic” about my writing, worries, and naughtiness with women. So much so that it’s created its own scenario based on my current “Obsession.” Three guesses. “The Long Walk,” “The Running Man,” and I want to say “Stand By Me.” But it’s probably being in bed, busty blondes, or beautiful Asian MILFS. And yes, Echo, I was busy with my balls Tuesday, so yeah, I’m back to day one. But it beats playing sportsball, right? WWE and NXT.

Honestly, Mick Foley said FDT! Not in so many words, but talk about some big hairys. B The Ball, Virgil

1781 Days Without B III, Day 1222 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Journey 168 ~Braxton’s Voice A V8~

WillLeave a comment

If I hear one more bad word… It better be me with a pretty lady, or in an erotica. Maybe the orange douche gets his “ticket punched.” And his Cabinet stars on “The Running Man.” What can I say, I like Stephen King? That’s nice. “Braxton’s Voice A V8”

Tuesday, December 16, 2025

Journey 168 ~Braxton’s Voice A V8~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? A lot more than some car or healthy drinks. What about Ma or my boys?

Happy Birthday to my Ma. I need to text her or something along those lines today. And as far as my boys? B’s quiet… Still in his box or playing on the Rainbow Bridge… Playing.

Honestly, knowing my firstborn son, he’s gobbling up vittles like an Amsterdam whore sucks dicks. Eww, seriously? Sorry, my love, I shouldn’t be reading Eric Vall on or near Christmas. Not that O. L. Tyme’s “His Christmas Miracle Harem” is helping. And it’s been three days, so I’m hot and horn as all Hell. I should just stay in bed with you. But that’s where Virgil is right now. Little 2-V, “I picture you in the sun, wondering what went wrong.” Am I talking to you or him? Don’t know…

“I fill my lungs with fear and I Exhale!”
It’s My Turn to Fly, The Urge ‧ 2000 (Titan A.E.)

And it’s like I’m not even speaking at all. To sing yet another song, I think I used to have a voice. Now I never make a sound.” If you’re keeping score, that’s “Every Day Is Exactly the Same” by NIN and Joseph Arthur’s “In The Sun.” It’s what I wish I could say… Well.

Sunday, August 24, 2025. Spill it out like “And I love you, I love you, I love you. Like never before.” But I’m no “Songbird.” And I’m definitely not Naya Rivera, may she rest in peace. See, I’m a lot nicer than the orange turd, MAGA’s leader, head Cracker Hat.

Always and forever FDT! And the naughty things I would like to do with Naya, 2-B, M Anime, and you…

I should shut the eff up. And as effed up as it seems, I wish I could go back to those days when Braxton first passed away. The silence when I didn’t give a damn about anything or anyone. The things I shouldn’t tell you. So I should be eating. Or on my knees… Prayer.

Nope. Even if you were Kesha, I’m not “Praying.” More like eating. Such a pervert.

Seriously, love, everything is too loud. Especially the voices in my head. And am I still thinking about some STUPID mobile game? Whiteout Survival? Then again, I’m still playing it. And there are so many things I should be doing. I “Can’t Keep Loving You (From A Distance). Love Is Louder! Braxton’s Voice A V8

1780 Days Without B III, Day 1221 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will