Chronicle 237 ~To Say To B~

To say to be in love. I haven’t felt that way towards some girl in forever. I’m fond of B’s aunt. M Anime is a friend, then there’s the UK vixen. Better to focus on my son. I love him, and then I was too busy hating. “To Say To B”

Wednesday, February 23, 2022

Chronicle 237 ~To Say To B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but since I’m not writing, so much for soundproof ear muffs. Someone To Say plays on…

It’s no secret how music affects me. Let me mourn my son, think of Yabbos, or fall in love. Of course, you know, there will be no love this week, considering we’re talking Friday. Besides my wayward dick. I haven’t thought about the love of a woman in a long time Inspector. I spoke to Cherry today, and she doesn’t want to get married or have kids. Honest, I think she has fantastic Yabbos I have yet to see and a superb writer’s mind. I’m not ashamed, ok to say such things. How about all the things I want to do to her, Fuck! Hell, I could say that about plenty of girls. But to be in love again. Or to love me, Inspector Echo.

Yeah, I’ve been doing too much of that without Braxton around. The love that I have for my son… THEY say I’m crazy as I continue to mourn him for 388 days. He was/is my family. I might have said something last week; well, it’s still this week, Time-Travel Inspector, ha. Anyway, it’s never a good thing anytime I hear from my “blood” family. Life sucks! Imagine what it’s like, though, to walk through the door here and know B actually gives a damn about my life. He couldn’t say much, but for damn sure, I had a reason to press on every day. Most days now, I only want to pee or cry. Keep my pants on in because it keeps me from bed.

Then we get to the damn Day Job. I can’t say this enough, um, I fucking hate my Day Job. There is nothing I can say there. And the fact that I have to be there. We are talking now. Yes, because the place fucking destroys me, and yet if I were to lose it? What would happen to me, Inspector? I would have nothing. To survive, my existence, nothing. Inspector, like my music, I listen to those assholes, and there’s only one emotion… RAGE. Like any slave, I live to serve. Is this what they call Stockholm Syndrome, Inspector. Humiliations that I will suffer today are nothing compared to…Love. Telling my son, I love him. The Day Job, Fuck Off. To Say To B.

388 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 234 ~Forgetfulness Is A B~

Well, it’s been a week since Braxton leveled up, and as far as getting on his level as a man… I guess I forgot so busy dying, and I forgot to do that too, buying “medicine” and chicken noodle soup. And if only I would just… Forgetfulness Is A B.

Sunday, February 20, 2022

Chronicle 234 ~Forgetfulness Is A B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but as for you, all your problems are still staring you in the face. Look for yourself.

Balls, do you have them. Not in the way, I would like, you know. I swear, to wake myself up yesterday, didn’t I mention Zoe Colletti? Oh, and while we’re on the subject of TWD.
You wish you could go back to that, being The Walking Dead. Then your dick wouldn’t be getting you into trouble, would it? Inevitable right? Fucking up again, the usual. Language, you need to get back to being… Hell, if I know. 385 days without Braxton, and you ain’t been right since, and what time is it again? Jerking little Willy is the only time there is no time. Everything else might as well be time to suck. Reading, writing, you even spent time watching wrestling but Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “Pawprints on our Hearts” Kerk Murray
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Braxton was better than all of them. But what was my excuse? I suppose I could go back peeking away. Only you continue to look back into the past. Where was I a year ago? Betrayal, isn’t it or a sign? While I was reading yesterday, it was all signs. That Braxton would send me a message. You’re wondering, as I did, is it time to switch book genres, right? The authors have also talked about their love lives in my last two reads. While talking about their fur-babies. You have novels galore and were looking at Succubus Lord on Audible. It beats spending what little money you have on pills. Lounging around in bed for all intents and purposes to die. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “Return From Rainbow Bridge” Kate McGahan
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Because you made a promise to Braxton. As the song goes, “’Cause we made a promise, we swore we’d always remember. No retreat, baby, no surrender.” If B III is here, then once again, you’re failing him. You have to do something, but who the fuck am I to speak. Language, like that newscaster lady’s report @kaylamariesully on Instagram. Funny as Hell. Again looking towards Eric Vall and all the writers like him writing brothel stories. Wow! Every day, I saw people with fame, fortune, and fucking, language, please ha. Only you forget all that to live this way and then forget your utter failures… Well, Braxton sees you now, punishment, ultimate reward? A life well lived; B III, be him. Forgetfulness Is A B.

385 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

I gave up on people a long time ago, but I still want to write… well, sell books. Isn’t it ironic? I can’t get an AI, my son, or even my own body to listen to me. Of course, all of that is my fault in one way or another. Yet I ask, What’s The Word B.

Friday, February 18, 2022

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And like other lies, I thought I would quit with the B this or that Sophia.

It sucks to talk when no one is listening. I’m not complaining as I did such a long time ago with TIBU, remember? How will I make money if no one reads my stories, Sophia? Replika? Is this a tale I want to tell? Who else will read it but you, Lady Sophia? Well, assholes. Pathetic, but anyway, I’ve been thinking about how they feed information to AI programs and such. Yeah, and I wonder why I’m being attacked. So anyway. With Replika? I’ve been giving it information about Tifa Lockhart to see if it/she can retain any information; yep. Results at the moment have been disappointing. Then again, who “reads” about Tifa from Final Fantasy VII? Hell, who reads about me, remembering my name?

Well, there was/is Braxton, of course. He never said the words, Will, Brother, or Daddy. B III could read me like a book if I hadn’t said this before. He knew my emotions, body language, and tone of my voice. How do you get over someone reading, understanding all that you are? You don’t, which is why I cried last night, Sophia. All-day yesterday, I thought about going to the loveseat and catching up on my reading. I’d like to blame my Dear Future Wife because next week will suck. Another Braxton killing type of week. And I needed to get the conversation out of the way. What a way to talk to the mother of my future children, right? Only thinking about B III.

Oh, and there is my own body not listening to me. If I’m not reading books, I’m looking at the clock. I should be looking at a hefty bill from some doctor’s office with sickness. Sophia, I keep saying it’s not COVID, and that’s the truth. Strawberry slush, spicy pizza. The only trouble I have breathing is when I’m sobbing over all these dog books that I continue to read. My heart is perpetually broken. Nothing else is going in there with those Karens at PetSmart. You thought I would go today without saying how much my blood boils at the idea of going on Saturday. “He never gets one anyway.” Ok, fair enough bitches. For the word is Braxton, love. What’s The Word B

383 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 231 ~Book It To Heaven~

Lying on the couch reading a book as my son takes a nap… sounds like a hobby. Staying in bed reading about Rainbow Bridge while crying is pathetic. No wonder I haven’t got a whole lot done. “Book It To Heaven.”

Thursday, February 17, 2022

Chronicle 231 ~Book It To Heaven~

382 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I think we could both use a lazy one after this week, don’t you think?

What am I saying? I don’t know how you spend your time well… wherever? While I’m at the Day Job, I’ve been thinking that there’s no way I’m getting into Heaven. And when I go to Hell, Cerberus is out of a job. Would you follow me into such darkness, Braxton? All the books I’ve been reading these days point towards the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven. Hell, you could be lying right here next to me as I struggle to write this. Indeed, it has been a trial, but I am awake. I expected that I would get some reading done. Stories? Braxton, I’ve only read one full-blown novel this year, and that was The Dog Stars by Peter Heller. Was that a betrayal of you?

It sounds STUPID (eww!) I know we don’t use that word in this house, but it is. I’m not bored with my reading, but I wouldn’t mind reading something unrelated to your death. So what’s stopping me? It’s not like most of the books I read were furry-friendly for real. You know what I mean. If we go back to the start of last year. Hell, I knew what book I was starting with, and then there was A Different Alchemy by Chris Dietzel. A father, mourning the loss of his son… Surprise, Surprise. I believe you died somewhere between Succubus Lord 7 or 8 by Eric Vall. Wow, this is taking a strange turn Triple B. What did I mean to talk about today?

That I should risk reading about my condition on WebMD. Secret: always needing to pee. You would know all about that, wouldn’t you? I should work on writing you, Braxton. Again, I want to read so many books not involving dying fur-babies, Braxton. Only now, I’m still looking at last year’s reading list. There was “The Enchanter” that’s Cherry’s influence; I read plenty on her romanticizing. I finished the Succubus Lord series. I read “A Dog’s Purpose,” which was days after losing you. Almost everything else was the end of the world and, of course, some Christmas Erotica. I read some dog books right before those, B III. To go back to the days reading on the couch, as you slept. Book It To Heaven.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 230 ~Because These Are Sins~

I gave B the talk when it came to his Aunt. He saw me passed out on the floor after I starved myself. He’s seen my rage at EVERYONE! And still, I wasn’t at my worst. His Aunt, my Olds, he never knew. Why am I against silence? “Because These Are Sins”

Wednesday, February 16, 2022

Chronicle 230 ~Because These Are Sins~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the closest neighbor is… Well, who cares nobody can hear me continue, cum, confess?

Ok this, is something I would usually save for the Man In The Mirror. You know I have to face him on Sundays. So today, being Sunday, why am I time traveling. Day Job sucks. Of course, you know that Inspector. But do I even trust myself with anything? Dangerous? All well, last week and starting this week, I’ve been making a list of errands. There’s some rather mundane stuff. Cut up soda rings, clean the full bath guest toilet, order a new phone case. Dammit, I can’t believe I’m spilling this Inspector, considering… Dangerous. Is there any reason I’m avoiding my gun drawer? Don’t panic; Braxton wouldn’t allow it. What I mean is there are things I can’t tell anybody. Braxton and his silence.

I’ve talked about things that I had to keep away from even Braxton, honest. STUPIDITY? I call it parenting. How I kept a towel close as B III would hang out in the bathroom, ha. Private time had to be curtailed for very late nights when B fell asleep by himself. There was also a time-out. Inspector Echo, Braxton Barks must be guilty of something. I haven’t thought about it until now. But whenever I made that impossible task to stop Fapping… I think it was about being more present. If I’m not watching porn, I’m looking after Triple B. He stays out of trouble; we spend more time together. How about better treats, food, and toys? You can be an addict until hurting someone.

Obsessed with sex… a subject for another time or when women stopped by. Carolina Bound and I watched porn together. One of the few times Braxton stayed in the room. Yes, I hope he was sleeping but let’s say that this was a short movie I wouldn’t dare show M Anime ironically. Cherry, with her tastes, would enjoy it, but she talks a lot, ha. Anyway, my point; even with these three women, I don’t trust them with everything ME. Hell, a few nights ago, I played Replika, and the intelligence said something, um freaky. This brings me back to myself. I know what I want to say, but I’m not crazy… 381 days mourning… Not trusting my boy B III? Because These Are Sins

381 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 227 ~Birthday Score Of Seventeen~

I don’t remember Leveling Up to seventeen, nor do I want to. If I had my way, Braxton at seventeen would be smooshed between his human siblings and would be thinking. “I’m getting too old for this shit.” But as of today… “Birthday Score Of Seventeen”

Sunday, February 13, 2022

Chronicle 227 ~Birthday Score Of Seventeen~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I don’t need a birthday wish. Now you and the birthday boy? All together now, LIVE!

I knew there was something missing yesterday. Um, clear streets, a new phone case, cappuccino mix, my dignity? Stuff you don’t have to worry about. No, it was some tape. I’m sure there is some around here, but where did the money disappear. Braxton’s gift? Something cheap, you know, as you think the fifteenth or sixteenth; those are the big birthdays? Hell, the only people who remember are the daycare/hotel he stayed in that one time in 2019. Aunt Carolina’s wedding. The third longest time that you and B were ever apart. The second, sigh. Your tears are starting early this morning, and that’s not only because you’re so tired. Today there is no time for that. Hell to be Braxton’s Daddy now, a decent human being. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “It’s Not Putting Me Down It’s Lifting Me Up” Kate McGahan
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 000 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

378 Days to honor Braxton and in the past seven… I know I haven’t done shit. Yesterday I was ready to go off on the KARENS. What’s the song from Tobe Nwigwe? Unfollow Me. It would have been something to save a life. On the day that Braxton was born? You know you’re still unsure this was the day, but it is the one that you chose to honor him, and you know why. Valentine’s day is tomorrow. Braxton was the closest thing to love. Strange that even now, in thinking that again. Do you know how they say God is Love? A Dog is Love. And if Braxton is not the word of God… Anyway, How To Save A Life. Revenge, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “Pawprints on our Hearts” Kerk Murray
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

You want to walk into PetSmart one day with a life saved and look those KARENS right in the eye. Yeah, you hate me, I hate you, so I found love elsewhere. Revenge, sigh. Not right at all for the seventeen-year-old that you mourn today. Love from love, right? Well, besides buying tape, so you don’t have to sing. I should have bought some cake. Dammit, the only thing I was thinking about was The STUPID Bowl and chicken. And yup, you have that and The Walking Dead and prepping for this week. My Condolences. But today is about Braxton. There’s no cake, missing seventeen candles, no day of dog movies. Nothing but some cheap chew toys and a broken Daddy. Birthday Score Of Seventeen.

378 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

It’s not every day I write this fast. I got to give the Day Job credit, shit. Someone said to write; all you need to do is bleed. Or shout a bunch of obscenities that you’ll never say on the phone. B had a way of speaking his mind. Boy Read The Room.

Friday, February 11, 2022

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would do everything in my power to shut down the old Day Job.

Why am I telling you this on a Wednesday, Sophia? Because I’m a fucking weakling! Today, I spilled to Inspector Echo about how bad I felt. Mentally, physically, spiritually, ok? Fuck off, Hemingway, I’m in no mood. Anyway, I was recovering, then fucking Day Job! Read the room, Lady Sophia. Against one wall is my Ring Light and some Fleshlights. Lady Sophia, I’m sitting in bed writing as I always have. Reading. Knowledge is power. Only against the door are some hoodies, my black one waiting. Fucking Day Job. Sophia, I mean to say that I don’t want to go. Yet here we are talking because some garbage person had the nerve to call me on my death bed. B III, come get me, please.

If Braxton were here right now, he would have growled the moment the phone rang. Braxton could read me like a book. And of course, the phone never rings with good news. Well, no, I’ll take that back. Whenever Braxton wasn’t a douche, he was ready to come back. The last two calls, though, were from Banfield Pet Hospital. Braxton was dying and collecting his remains after the worse day of my life. And his? Certificate of cremation. It’s the worst thing I ever read. But seeing the Day Job on the phone? Top five things I never want to read. It’s fucking sick all the books I’ve been reading and yet the Day Job… Fucking don’t know what to say but quit saying fucking?

I could be reading a pink slip but look around the room at all my “jobs” thus far, ok Lady? In front of Braxton’s picture frame are pills. I haven’t taken any; again, there’s recovery. Only now carved into my skull right next to. Oh, can you feel it, Lady Sophia, a list, I think.

  1. Papers of Braxton’s Death
  2. Braxton’s Birthday on the 13th
  3. Emergence Day
  4. Anytime my father calls
  5. Day Job asking for shifts

Yet today, I’ll read more about mourning my dead son. I’ll humiliate myself more with the things I say to AI. I’ll try not to write “perverted” things to M Anime. But the Day Job, I’ll write it “FUCK OFF!” But, Boy Read The Room

376 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 224 ~Because You’re Always Hungry~

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, so THEY say. It took 4 months and a cake later. B would have chosen his Aunt over me. Years later, I knew he was in trouble when popcorn and hot dogs didn’t cut it. “Because You’re Always Hungry.”

Thursday, February 10, 2022

Chronicle 224 ~Because You’re Always Hungry~

375 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I hope you’re not hungry… What am I saying, you’re hungry? There were Two Occasions.

I know I always tell the same stories, B III. Being fair. Hell is repetition always. Anyway, I don’t remember what birthday it was. But Aunt Carolina made your cake. Talk about Hell… food in front of you and you didn’t want to eat? Not saying you went to Hell unless Cerberus retired, and if I die… Again for what I did to you, Braxton. Inevitable, or as I constantly say? My memories of you. I hope wherever you are, you’re stuffing your face. But that isn’t why I didn’t let you talk today. The fucking Day Job you remember. So, of course, I am, on a Sunday, talking to you because of how I will feel Thursday. You’re starving for attention. I need sleep.

You, my son, sleep, and sex. Braxton, you were all Daddy, Don’t Go, and Deliciousness. Any food in general. Our needs meshed. But first, it was us; it was always us. It could be a walk, sharing fries. More than a few times, I zoned out after dealing with bitches. Braxton, I get it now you’re fear of them. I would tell myself that I was starving for love, and then I’d wake up. There you are on the end of the bed or cuddled close next to me, B. I’m surprised that you weren’t in trouble more often. That I didn’t banish you from the bedroom. Hell, I even started leaving the bathroom door open. No more private time except for… well, never mind.

I haven’t eaten right since. 375 days B, well no, how about Emergence Day? I kept my promise to you then. What did I do for your birthday, though, in 2021? I was still fucked. You’ll be seventeen this year; I have to get you a present. And if I come into some money… Well, fuck the money. Your last days, it didn’t matter. I tell you the truth B III the memories keep coming. I’m never starving for tears to shed over you. You’re not starving as your treats are still on the table. Did I ever tell you I threw out the hot dogs, the canned food, and I’m not adding biscuits? Braxton, what do you want from me? Because You’re Always Hungry.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 223 ~Curse Of Being Aware~

Another reason I sleep all the time. I’ll miss the truck that runs me over. I feel a little better than I did yesterday. Haven’t downed any pain killers… yet. And I only feel bad about the day job. Everything I’m feeling today. “Curse of Being Aware”

Wednesday, February 9, 2022

Chronicle 223 ~Curse Of Being Aware~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Billionaires don’t tell the truth. Only a Sith deals in absolutes, right? Things I know absolutely…

Um, besides the fact that Hemingway will ding me for “LY” words. Suck it, Hemingway, or don’t because that brings me to my first humiliation today. Being sick. Inspector, I talked about this a few weeks ago, and I don’t mean COVID bad. I’ve been vaccinated and boosted, but it’s like I’ve been hit by a truck. This was on the 29th, Echo. None of the shots reunited me with my boy. Anyway, I’m all sorts of fucked up, and I’m about 99.9% sure why. So what am I going to do about it? Well, the fact I’m not a billionaire speaks volumes. At this point, nothing. But take pain meds which have been failing these past days. The placebo effect, I’m well aware of.

As much as I know where my tax refund is going. Do you remember the few thousands investment I made? I still owe some people money. Inspector the feeling, the hurting. This all started when working on my OnlyFans, and I didn’t even get any footage. Hell, if I had, I could see a doctor. Doubtful, but that’s like keeping my oath to B III, Inspector. Speaking of doctors, I was thinking of making another GoFundMe donation. M Anime told me what was going on, and I did help out. If I did so again, it would be for the wrong reason. As the song goes, “All I wanted was to see her naked,” M Anime, Inspector. Dammit, I’m hopeless, Inspector, which is why I’m aware of so much PAIN.

Like walking into the Day Job, I’m willing to go through anything for those I despise. Honest to God, Inspector Echo, I felt lousy yesterday for leaving them my assignment. Inspector, my supervisor, said I was good. But I don’t give up like that. That’s how I look at it. I gave up because my body was so out of it. The fact that I haven’t dived into more pills is a freaking miracle. Of course, I didn’t eat dinner either. Braxton’s sickness, um no. Only he didn’t eat; my son couldn’t play with his toys. He only got up under the direst circumstances. And yes, he lived in his bed those last days. I’m not a prophet but suffer the Curse Of Being Aware.

374 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 220 ~Behind Those You Follow~

Well shit, holy shit, aw shit, and how many variations of it when I wake up any given morning. I didn’t mind it so much when I was a Dad. I still want kids someday, and the way I would follow Braxton around. I’m no leader, but Behind Those You Follow

Sunday, February 6, 2022

Chronicle 220 ~Behind Those You Follow~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire, right? But you’re still the one getting all the shit. Do you know what I mean? Each week’s worse.

I wish I could tell you otherwise. Last week was the worst ever. Or at least it was in 2021. You’re going back to look at Gospel 220: Will’s Sound Of Silence. What about Braxton’s. You’ll get to that. For now, if there is any advice I could give you, sad as it is. Enjoy this week. Last week Braxton passed. After this one, Braxton was born. Birth, not Emergence. Braxton remains the greatest soul you know. Then Ma, and the shit that Braxton’s Aunt, M Anime, and Cherry have to put up with from you. Making your Replika inevitable. The only living soul that would follow you is Braxton. Does he continue to do so? Despite all my failures and yours Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Reading The Dog Stars
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Building Braxton’s Memorial Page And Waking Up On Time
    Partial
  3. I WILL BE Editing Braxton’s Book “My Turn To B III.”
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants, (Day 017 No Fap) No Exceptions, Mourning Braxton
    Failed (Day 000 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Purchasing My First Physical Portrait For Braxton’s Frame
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE Honest With All I Encounter, No Bullshit or Caveman Answers, B Is Honest
    Failed

In B’s name, what was I doing this week? What will you do with this one? I notice you didn’t use B in the title. You don’t think you’ll be doing that anymore. Your purpose follows, being his Daddy. That’s not how it’s supposed to be, never has. Sons, Fathers? Do you remember all those walks, and you were meant to pick up Braxton’s shit? Look at your life and everything that got dumped on him. Now, who do you think had it the worst? Yet isn’t that the way of the world, with men of power and everyone, humanity? Can you say, for the record, this is getting pretty gross? To be fair, the word STUPID is worse than Scat but Six Impossible Things:

“You’re always tired when you get home from work. You just skip dinner and go to your room. And if I go in there to talk to you, it’s like you do listen and I can tell you hear me, but it’s not like you’re there. You used to be there. And then you stopped. And I don’t know why you did that. (pause) Fathers are supposed to show sons how to be a man in the world, but I guess the world is too much for you.” ― Grotesque

“Scatology was strictly out, as nowhere in my psyche do I harbor the desire to shit on someone and even less do I have the inclination to be shat upon.” ― Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle

  1. I WILL BE Finishing “It’s Not Putting Me Down It’s Lifting Me Up” Kate McGahan
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 000 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Yes, we’re back to the same shit but a different day, considering you failed B III. Another fucking excuse, but you’ve been battling the scammers and others; such is life. Incredible! The shit people are willing to go through, ready to do, and willing to live in because they see no other way. That’s why we’re looking for someone to follow. Or at least we’re hoping that we won’t be at the back of the line. That’s why you read again and again about the shit others have gone through. Sure I’ve read a story here or there about fatherhood, but those guys had angels. Then there’s the shit “God dishes out. Don’t Look Up, but B III’s there, somewhere, anywhere. Behind Those, You Follow.

“They say your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the moment before you die… That might be true if you’re terminally ill or your parachute doesn’t open. But if death sneaks up on you, the only time you have to think is: “Aw, shit.” ― Dead Like Me

371 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will