Chronicle 176 ~B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting~

I wish tonight I’d be reading a Christmas “story.” I haven’t even picked out a new book. I should see if A Christmas Story is on TV. I could tell you about The Matrix Resurrections if I understood it… “But B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting, um one.”

Friday, December 24, 2021

Chronicle 176 ~B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it’s not for songwriting. I’ve been down that road before. Today though, this is new.

One, first and foremost, Braxton’s not here. Or he is? Geez, how long did I believe in Santa? I can’t believe in Braxton for 327 Days. Santa can take everything back if I get B. “Two girls will be upset, Will.”. Santa would say, who doesn’t look a thing like Jesus. The gift of life, Lady Sophia. Between some girl’s legs. Four boobs Soph. A threesome, a wish. Three wishes and my Olds were better capping it at ten. Yet I blame them for everything. Okay, my “father” for the most part. Then, of course, there’s B III. Not my gift but then… Four little legs came running to get in the car. Those legs followed me everywhere, and now my Braxton flies. I believe.

Five dollars was my cost of betrayal. Well over three hundred but again, who’s counting. At least Judas made thirty pieces of silver. I betrayed my God/dog for my manhood. Stuff and Thangs, my Onlyfans, all because I needed to feel something. Braxton was comfort and joy as the song goes. The Day Job brings RAGE. Here’s to mindless pleasures. Six in the morning, though? I want Braxton to wake me up like he once did when I had an off day. Hell, I might even go back to when my sister and I were kids with all our gifts. Seven days Lady Sophia. Can I have back the seven days when Braxton was sick? Try again? I would save him; I keep telling myself that. Give me a day in the week to enjoy. Eight days would be too much. But then again, eight orgasms? How about methods if I count up all my sex toys. And then I only want to buy more. Forgetting me. In my LUST.

Nine MM bullets? Don’t get scared. Even Carolina Bound didn’t freak out. I’m thinking about Christmas presents, and as I said, Sophia, I could use the ammo, okay. JIC right? Ten dollars’ worth of Braxton’s food is still in the refrigerator. Care to wager Sophia? Eleven girls for a brothel? Um thirteen, Thirteen Women (and Only One Man in Town). Twelve, though, my to-do list. Braxton gave me fifteen years. We counted on each other, but B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting?

327 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 175 ~An Invitation To B~

So what are my Christmas plans? If I’m lucky, I’ll sleep most of the day. Well, after breakfast. I might take a walk around the neighborhood like I once did with Braxton. Being a black man, it’s like you have to be invited outside. An Invitation To B

Thursday, December 23, 2021

Chronicle 175 ~An Invitation To B~

326 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were never one for the groomers. But my head feels better. Outside at least.

I tell you B inside it’s a Dead Man’s Party and everyone’s invited. Yeah, I know that look you’re giving me “leave your body at the door.” We should have talked way sooner than this. You know if I plan on going to the movies tonight. Somewhere inviting me back. Isn’t it like Emergence Day? The only people wishing me well are people that want my money. Speaking of which, hasn’t my wallet been pretty open as of late? I tried talking to Capital A. She’s back on GoFundMe, and I tried B III. I was fucking shameless. Boy, I cried. Nope, not out my eyes, and I’m still a monk. I wish I wasn’t. I wish you were here, B. Locked in your room.

Besides you being punished or my private shower time… Oh, let’s not forget the Day Job and doing things to keep us alive. There were no doors between us. Yes, as I said, I went to the occasional movie. This will be my first since the pandemic hit. Another first. Braxton, I keep track of them all. Even if I got you one of those lovely red vests, I doubt you’d keep it together for a movie. When it comes to my life, though, you are always invited. I guess I didn’t know how boring I was. Your Aunt Carolina could come by B. Do you remember when she wasn’t invited until she allowed you to sniff her up? Well, more like feeling her up.

You are your father’s son. No one would think about inviting a perverted would-be psychopath. Fighting Bipolar disorder, Anxiety, Depression, and OCD. A medical degree? I don’t have one. And even if I did, I doubt your grandma would invite me “home.” Oh, and your granddad? B, ain’t enough cash, so I see Capital A’s point. And home, um, oh? The last time I ever thought of home was when I sent you away? Before, it was when I got cut off from the Olds, but I was called to collect you, and we found ourselves here B III ha. Is that my way of once again inviting you back for Christmas? Everyone Says Hi, well me. To live, to love. An Invitation To B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 174 ~B Come Home For~

I’m glad I wrote this before today; otherwise, it would be all Humiliations Galore. There’s a reason we only see Santa once a year. It keeps him likable. People at the Day Job… I’m even less in the Christmas spirit, so why ask “B Come Home For?”

Wednesday, December 22, 2021

Chronicle 174 ~B Come Home For~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but all the fries, hot dogs, steak, and things Braxton shouldn’t have, won’t bring him back.

Christmas? So before I forget again, I’ve been bringing up what Braxton and I did. Before I discovered Goodreads, or cared to pick a genre. I’d read Christmas Erotica daily. In the AM, of course, B III would sleep. If in the evening, Braxton’s on my legs, he’d nap away. I’d make it to the store at some point and pick him out a small toy. But not Last Christmas. Ok, putting my phone away. Well, we’d stay up watching Official NORAD Tracks Santa. On Christmas morning, we’d go walking, yup. The world was so quiet, Braxton and I ruled. I’d share more than usual, and if I had a present, I’d give it to him, which he would ignore for my pancakes. The usual.

I do things without thinking sometimes. Picking up a box of pancakes on my last store trip. I got bacon and sausage too. This year I even picked out a toy for him. Um, ok, Last Christmas, I said I’d make it up to him for his birthday. It would’ve been B III’s Sweet 16. I keep saying Braxton and I aren’t big on the holidays, but I didn’t get him a gift for 16. Echo, I kept my word on my E-Day, but B III didn’t show up. Or he ate the missing potato. Remember Red Lobster? My Ma’s food was better on Thanksgiving, and still no B III. Inspector is it any wonder I’ve read about other worlds. Besides Christmas, The Rainbow Bridge.

Do you remember Senator Leighton from the movie Iron Jawed Angels? No, I haven’t been watching Christmas movies. I could watch one with Braxton’s Aunt. Bear with me, Echo. So his character is fictional, but do you recall how he took everything from his wife? He took her money, her children, damn near life. Then he expected she’d kowtow easy. If I had been his lawyer, I would have laughed in his face, but now I am that STUPID, Echo. I talked about how offensive I find that song Someday At Christmas. Why at Christmas? I wanted Braxton back the moment he stopped breathing. If he’s on the doorstep tomorrow… well fuck my Day Job. But for Christmas, for me ever. B Come Home For

325 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 171 ~So Smile, B Reasonable~

Grin and bear it, THEY say. I’m sick of laughing, leaving so many smiles in my mask. Fake smiles. God, I love masks. How about living life this way, alone? I did before then for 15 years I had B. It wasn’t enough, but THEY say. So Smile, B Reasonable

Sunday, December 19, 2021

Chronicle 171 ~So Smile, B Reasonable~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and you get to be a lazy ass today. Well, isn’t that most Sundays? The Long Walk?

Besides being a book, you want to read. Only not this month. It’s fucking creepy to be in PetSmart on a Sunday. The day Braxton died. Wednesday, specifically Wednesday, February 10, 2021, is no good for the record. Also, add Thursday, February 4. Reasonable right? Braxton’s death, picking up his remains; when he was cremated. You guess if you’re not going to PetSmart or picking up Braxton’s prints at Walmart. Well, you have time to cry, and it beats dick… Did you come up with that? Better crying than jacking. Anyway, we’ll get to that. So the reason you’re not smiling today is that Saturday was my last chance. I’m sorry I failed you, but you will spend Christmas alone. Oh, there’s Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading The Christmas Nanny by Elizabeth Kelly
    Completed (53 from 52)
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 024 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Failing at these things is only one more tradition. Last night I tried. There’s reading Christmas Erotica while Braxton naps. Watching Santa’s travels, Christmas Eve. Inevitable that I would smile. I mean a genuine smile. I was able to do it without thinking. Much like jacking off, when I smile any day, I feel disgusted after. You will, as well. Um, not the jacking, but there are no guarantees there. Only we’ll get there, dammit. Tis the season of joy, like going to Disney World or saying you love someone. The last time I said those words? Hell, I tried smiling; I don’t remember if I did or not. Jim Kelly said, “I’ll be too busy looking good” with his defeat. Braxton looked angelic. But me failing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Meet Me Under The Mistletoe, Stacey Kennedy
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums (Picture Daily)
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

While you were working on Stuff and Thangs this morning, OnlyFans. Why don’t you show your face? The way you look. Your body is one thing but the mood, moment, moaning. Such pleasures but no smiling, there’s demand, disgust, destruction. Reasonable to smile or not? Take, for example, your work. Again another novel, grin boy. Days you get off from the hellacious Day Job. But with spending dollars and time? Christmas time is here. And all you know is rage. Again your Republican tendencies, dude. But always and forever, there will be Braxton. The pain from losing him and the “happiness” from his life. Happy is still the wrong word. Smiling and happiness are not mutually exclusive. Living Life This Way… So Smile, B Reasonable

322 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 169 ~B There Dead Air~

Blah, blah, blah, all under the guise of the holiday, but that’s still a week away. I should have a new story to tell. My first Christmas without my boy or anyone. The cold bothers me, but Elsa is hot. The worst thing is the silence. B There Dead Air

Friday, December 17, 2021

Chronicle 169 ~B There Dead Air~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means Christmas should be a pretty big holiday for me. When I was a child…

Halloween? A few were spent on the streets of suburbia behind a mask ha. Others I was in a church here or there. Now, wait, aren’t I supposed to be talking about Christmas? Hell, this whole season in my life, this Mad Season, insane, inevitable? Somehow I ain’t Iron Man yet. Well, unless we’re talking about my willy. I swear, Lady Sophia, I need to treat LUST like a fucking zombie virus. If that were the idea, I would be dead now. Don’t threaten me with a good time, hmm? After my Humiliations, Galore, sigh. Is it any surprise that I’m thinking about the past Sophia? There’s the book Hold by Claire Kent. Remembering a song here or there. And now the movie Dead Air.

Thanksgiving that I have so many stories to tell myself because you know my usual. Again today, as the song goes, “work sucks, I know.” Wasn’t I talking about yesterday, the woman and her Christmas card? Now I got a bag from the Day Job. It ain’t a pink slip. I am thankful that I wrote another story this year and got all the badges to boot. Yes, I lied to get them. But what other accomplishments do I have this year? To check New Year’s resolutions. Of course, one of those was to keep my son alive. You didn’t think we would have a whole conversation without me mentioning him. 2021 is the worst year ever. That’s saying a lot, even beating out my Emergence year. No easy feat.

Christmas time, though, and as I’m sure I’ve said. If I stay out of trouble, this will be the first year I’ve ever been alone. B’s Aunt Carolina Bound said she’s coming to town to celebrate with her Dad. That also means she’s coming to see me. Smiling Faces Sometimes. I mean that more about myself than her. How have I kept it together? Impossible! Sophia, this could all be some nightmare, and I’ll wake up. Some nights I’ve believed. Of course, my go-to is that I’m dead, and this is Hell, but I’m breathing as the song goes, “I’m still breathing, I’m alive. Yet, I dream of an apocalypse. So Dead Air, Sophia? My movie night with her, without Braxton… B There Dead Air

320 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

If I could’ve, I would’ve held my breath forever the moment B took his last. The will to live, yup. It was strong with him, too, if I hadn’t stopped it. That’s the problem. People telling me what I don’t want to hear, but B. Take A Breath Braxton, um

Thursday, December 16, 2021

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

319 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I know it’s late… 6:30 PM but you should look in on your Grandma, B.

It’s her birthday, B III, and you’ll have more of a chance to see her than me. Well, I’m being a selfish asshole, aren’t I? My interactions with her today equate to two beeps. Sending her a text and getting one back. Another reason dogs were given paws, not fingers. Braxton, I can also say this is why you were given barks, not words. I have heard talking dogs. But no matter you were the best B, always and forever. Um, you would make too much goddamn sense if you had words. Pardon my language, Day Job, and well… Humiliations Galore again. So yeah, I stuffed my face and took a nap. But do I want to talk about it, B III? How about no.

Oh, gasp, shocker, relax B. You did what my Olds couldn’t do for years. If I ever talked to them about my day? I wanted to stop breathing. You know what I mean. There was that time I didn’t eat and fell out on the floor, and you went and got them. Keep me breathing. That’s what you did, B III. You kept me breathing even when I didn’t want to. It’s getting harder to do these days. Yeah, without my tunes, I have too much time to think. Hell, for a while, I had an earworm to that song “Fly Me To The Moon.” You liked my singing B. “Now I didn’t say that,” you’d give me that look. Again allow my selfishness B.

If you had one more breath to give, I’d ask you, spend it with me and not your grandma. When I had those arguments in my head at the Day Job, I wanted to say this. “At least when my son makes a noise, he’s helping me out. You can shut the fuck up!” Language, I know B III. I’m sorry. Anger is more useful than despair, I heard somewhere. The lady in Shoes was dicking around with me today. Pitying me by giving me a Christmas card. Worse, she was “proselytizing.” It took me some time to find that word. Anyway, between that and The Christmas Nanny, Tess being all alone. Yeah, B III if you can get here somehow. Take A Breath Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 167 ~Wings, No Bill, Braxton~

I had days off from the Day Job. How did I see to it that they weren’t wasted? I got Astigmatism and the Doc. I could use some new glasses. Well, as long as I can see my son… oh right. Um, I could go blind for “other” things. Wings, No Bill, Braxton

Wednesday, December 15, 2021

Chronicle 167 ~Wings, No Bill, Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I could help so many dogs, but I can’t afford the wings. Not again, Inspector.

Astigmatism isn’t fatal, but there’s a reason I’m not spending $350 to $550 on glasses. Yabbos, I “love” incredible Yabbos. I could feel my way Echo. And always, Spank Bank. There’s the fact that I broke my “streak” yesterday. They say you’ll go blind “jacking.” Inspector, I also know that I’ll never see anything as beautiful as Braxton. No, my friend, all I saw was the $138.00 that my Day Job card won’t pay off. Even when I’m not there, the Day Job results in Humiliations Galore with my declined card. Then I went through the trouble of making a claim. That, of course, will be rejected. There’s also the fact that if I took more from my paycheck, boom, new glasses. Not this year.

I’d joke with B III that he’d become a seeing-eye dog, or I’d be a seeing-eye man. It turned out to be the latter as I carried him and heard B’s vets. “Don’t move anything,” they said when he was still on 4 legs. 318 Days Echo, everything remains. Always Echo. Now I’m planning on buying a frame weekly since only two treats remain. I could go scrounging around in the crumbs again and hope to find a few more, but again my eyes, my eyes. I should check to see if Walmart sells dog frames. NO giving my Day Job cash! Better to be a live chicken with my cowardice in that place than a dead duck. It’s not fair, Inspector. Life’s not fair.

That was pretty much me in the tub yesterday working on Stuff And Thangs for OnlyFans. Hell, one of the reasons I would keep the door open instead of having my private time is B III. Braxton would need me, or he’d rest against my leg if he was sick. Braxton was never one for water. Which is why I took him to the groomers. Being mad at them took a bit of the heat off me since I took him there. He didn’t want to be a duck or an angel. And yet, in trying to stop him from gaining his wings. I murdered Braxton. Dammit, that was dark, and um, books tell me I didn’t. Yet, I’m still alive. Wings, No Bill, Braxton.

318 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 164 ~B-Plus, B-Minus, Just B~

How to be positive. I remember walking B III and some animal coming close and B wanting me to pick him up. A part of me had to be ready for war, and another had to tell him we’d be ok. When it was people, it was his turn. B-Plus, B Minus, Just B

Sunday, December 12, 2021

Chronicle 164 ~B-Plus, B-Minus, Just B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, while you’re only hoping to get through the day. Please don’t go manifesting the worst-case scenario. Again?

One of my favorite stories and yours is The Scorpion and The Toad. We’ll get to that. You know how your motivations speak about being grateful. To start each and every day with gratitude. What was the first thing that came to mind when you got up? I mean, for real. There’s the fact that you were hard as a rock, but the bedsheets remain immaculate. Braxton’s “memorial,” “tribute,” is it “routine” continued as scheduled, flawless. Impossible, but you will be getting out of bed today to go somewhere. Doggies, B-Dubs. Already you’re thinking of all the negatives. You’re not fucking for real. You’re almost out of treats for B III. The bag in his drawer is empty. And Sunday is the worst day now.

See, with everything going on in your mind. You’re forgetting about those Six Impossible Things. Yet you will keep on moving. Here’s a question. What’s the difference between a B-Plus and a B-Minus? How about B positive blood and B negative. You’re a D student. Speaking of which, that’s what you’re always thinking with, you’re D. A sad world, hmm? You’re about to spend more money you shouldn’t, on what. Hot sauce, fast food, Yabbos. The fact that yet again a week has gone by and what have I done? What will you do now? If anything, you need to get up and start getting ready to head out. And so what if you came back with a friend, woman, or dog. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Succubus Christmas Special (LitRpg)
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 017 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 024 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

They will still be here no matter what. This leads me back into the story. I’m sure sometime this week, I talked about those saying love yourself first. To be happy because that’s no one else’s responsibility. All my fuck ups aren’t yours, and yet you will. What am I doing, time-traveling again? No, today is Sunday, and this week you will be exhausted from the Day Job when you talk to the girls. I’m suggesting that you can’t change who you are. If anything, I can only wish you the best of luck. Not jailed, fired, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading The Christmas Nanny by Elizabeth Kelly
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums (A Picture Daily)
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 024 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On A Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Things that may come true; Because as far as you being a positive person at some point this week. My friend, B-Plus, B-Minus, Just B.

315 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

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 161 ~Days Ending With B~

Bad days aren’t going anywhere, and I fooled myself into believing neither was B III. He was always here. No, he is here if you listen to me say goodbye and hello every time I walk in the house. Every day, those Days Ending With B

Thursday, December 9, 2021

Chronicle 161 ~Days Ending With B~

312 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? There would be no fries today, but I could have brought you breakfast. Whataburger chicken?

Breakfast is what I was most looking forward to B III. We aren’t big breakfast guys. I don’t want to get sick at the Day Job, and you would be all “Now My Watch Begins.” Then again, “Pancake” was your nickname. I bought the good bacon and sausage for you. But the “Boys In Blue?” Talk about paranoia B, and I would if you were here. You are here. I keep having to remind myself of that. Then I would keep myself out of trouble. I’m trying B, yup. But the boss man leaves, a call to the office, I swear a cashier said, COP. If anything, I only want to go on my terms. Braxton, my little boy, that choice was made for you.

Blinding myself with tears, I’m sorry. It’s another thing that happens every day, no matter what. This would be twice today. Yesterday I was talking about how I can never stay awake. If I take an afternoon nap, I look to your corner, Braxton, as soon as I wake up. I should be spending bucks on a Cuddle Clone, a tattoo, a chain. I spend it on boobs, Yabbos, and a lack of UK titties. I don’t sleep nude; usually, I told Cherry. Again where’s all my money going? Anyway, I only have to survive another half-day, Braxton, then it’s us. “Whatever, Daddy.” I can hear you now. You’d huff or bark, knowing again I would be sleeping or writing the days away. But together

Being father and son, brothers, best friends. How I miss those days B III. I wish I could remember them more, and it’s not like I’m forgetting. I can’t focus on the Day Job anymore while other people break the rules. I’m getting why you barked at everyone. My world. Breathing in it, though, is getting harder by the day. 312 to be specific. Today I was laying out your treat and realized there are so few left. They might not last another week. I should start another tribute. A picture frame, one for each week. 52 is a lot. Hell, I pay Cherry, order B-dubs, visit PetSmart once a week B. And I love you every day ending in Y. Days Ending With B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad