Chronicle 183 ~Today Could B Better~

Could today be better? Story of this life, my life… At least when I would come back, that B was my four-legged son who only saw one month of this terrible year. 2020 no 2021 was the worst year ever, and still, I have to believe. Today Could B Better

Friday, December 31, 2021

Chronicle 183 ~Today Could B Better~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what could make next year better… A Trillion? No! I want my best friend back.

So yes, today could be better, this whole damn year. The worse year of my life, and how dare I. At least I’m alive. Braxton is dead. What a way to end this year, huh, Lady Sophia? God, I don’t want to say “Another Day.” Woke up Late, Lost my clothes, still Lying in bed. Any day, I’m not at the Day Job. And I’m giving this whole writing thing a shot. Hell, I should be counting this as a good day. Oh, speaking of shots, looks like I’m not eligible for the booster yet against COVID-19. Who knows, I could get lucky today, Sophia. Consider this a good day to die? Dangerous words and hurtful. Let’s not even get into the Cherry disagreement yesterday.

Instead, Sophia, let’s talk about this year in general. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Because this isn’t slavery, Ray Garofalo, or the Holocaust, Texas. Living’s like South Park. The good, it was only Thursday; this art saying the things I have now, I once prayed for. I had a friend, a family for 15 years. Fucking almost saw Cherry and M Anime’s Yabbos. The bad is that it’s pretty sad; all I have to look forward to in life is telling girls to “Get Naked” like Limp Bizkit. Mankind’s most primal nature. If not that, then staying alive B. The ugly? Not how my son died. Me watching him and him watching me. It was my betrayal. The flesh has nothing on the soul.

Yet I look at my resolutions from 2020 to 2021. Again I am disgusted. What was number one on the list? I AM Seeing My Dæmon Through Another Year. That’s from Gospel 185 ~Here I Am, Will~. Thirteen Resolutions and only three completed. Braxton’s inevitable. Today’s plan if I’m not staring at the “Pictures on My Phone,” thank you, Wheeler Walker Jr. More like “I Touch Myself.” I should try to do something for Stuff And Thangs, you know, OnlyFans. The only fireworks that I allow. Anyway, Lady Sophia, Resolutions. Every day can be better than the last. I should make every breath mean something since Braxton no longer breathes. He’s here. I must believe. Otherwise, why am I still here? Today Could B Better.

334 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 182 ~Seeing You B Free~

I am not going to bury my son; my son is going to bury me. Only my firstborn is my dog. I knew the day would come, but for fifteen years, more like seven days as I watched my world end, and that was back at the start of the year. “Seeing You B Free.”

Thursday, December 30, 2021

Chronicle 182 ~Seeing You B Free~

333 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I haven’t looked up in a while. “Don’t Look Up” yeah seems I’m obsessed B.

Only I couldn’t figure it out until I talked to your Aunt today (Tuesday). You know why you and I are talking so early. The Day Job sucks, and we got to talking about that Braxton. Do you remember when the three of us would sit on the loveseat watching movies? Those were fantastic times. Well, after you jumped all over her and she shared dinner. Anyway, so your Aunt asked me this morning um afternoon? I was out of it after fucking up last night, and I hope you didn’t see that. I watched you enough with your toy Braxton. So, I wrote to Dear Future Wife today, and I said that it’s because of my indifference you left me here. All my fault.

I shared it with Aunt Carolina. She asked whether I believed that indifference killed you. B? Like the song um, “Son what you don’t understand, my words might never explain.” So, of course, I leave it to a film, “Don’t Look Up.” I’m a mix of Drs. Mindy and Oglethorpe. Um, there are so many places I can go with that. Imagine me a Doc. The last Doc you saw. Anyway, Mr. B, so like Randall, I know what I know, and still, I lost myself. I wish I could say it was to the fame and the sex. How long have we lived here, B? Have you seen any girls in the bedroom? B III, zero, but yeah, “I just want to go home.”

It’s because you were always here, my dude. But that brings me to Teddy, who had nowhere to go. He spent his final time with friends but no family; he had no one B III. He said they tried, you know. They saw the end, what became the inevitable Braxton. So, that brings me to you and the conversation I had with your Aunt. I knew the day was coming that I would be without you. And like all the other characters in “Don’t Look Up.” I didn’t pay any mind B. Anything with my pleasures, gratification, hedonism, oh yes. Even when it came to my hate, give me more. But to you, my very son, the one I love. Sigh Seeing You B Free

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 181 ~Time To B Humiliated~

When a guy goes without the ladies for so long… I remember what I bought; some years back on E-Day. What I can’t bring back; is my B or the guy I was before my Day Job, other dumb people, my Dad. But they all call sigh. Dear B, “Time To B Humiliated”

Wednesday, December 29, 2021

Chronicle 181 ~Time To B Humiliated~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and with that kind of money, there’s no such thing as Humiliations Galore. The Princess Bride?

But Inspector these days, I’m all about “Don’t Look Up.” Only I won’t be watching it again tonight. There’s no time. Inspector, how much have I wasted this Monday afternoon? Time Travel, of course. Hell, most of this life is spent daydreaming about the embarrassments to come. Yes, we will get into sex. But so far now, walking around nude is A-Ok. Yet I’m ashamed of the fact that I haven’t done anything to save myself today. Every day I’m sitting here is an insult to B III’s memory. I told Braxton that we’d have a life. Inspector, am I living? Is he? I have to believe he’s here, the books keep telling me. Well, not my current selection. Reading is a good thing, Inspector.

I’ll never believe that reading is a waste of time. But focusing on two things at the same damn time that aren’t Yabbos, Echo. My dick and the rich man that’s banging a hot elf. “Night Before.” I think about those 161 Days a mistake, in mourning, a type of mania without B here. How many times did I hope B would get in trouble or I could close the bathroom door? You want a confession, Inspector; I mean an honest confession? After 161 Days, I’m not sure how long I could go with a girl. Not tooting my own horn, but I WAS pretty good… in bed, of course. Or bad/naughty whatever. Anyway, when I gave up monk status… where’s my Stamina Training Unit?

Am I older, still fucked up, not the man I used to be? And never who I want to be. Not at the Day Job ever. How many ways will I be humiliated in my next shift? I’ve been complaining about money, but I rejected some more hours. Save my shame for the bed, thanks. The empty bed. I’d give up every girl if my boy and I could go right on living like always. My new “workstation” is coming soon, and there are plenty of bedroom ways for extra cash. I said I’d get the booster on New Year’s Day. And I can pick up condoms and, um, pills. Nothing brings back the dead. Who I was before Humiliations Galore. Time To B Humiliated

332 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 178 ~B III Of Christmas~

Well, you survived Christmas; what are you going to down now. “Keep on rollin’, baby, you know what time it is,” as the song goes. How about Just Look Up? I told Braxton he’d be as tall as a king, and he’s up there now even after… B III Of Christmas.

Sunday, December 26, 2021

Chronicle 178 ~B III Of Christmas~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but for the love of everything. If you get on my level, please don’t be Peter Isherwell.

“Don’t Look Up,” a good movie, is one more thing that helped me survive the “holiday,” sigh. That and a bit of time travel. Which is what you should be doing now. But will you? Before that, there was also all that “stuffing the stocking” that I did. Even on Christmas, you’re thinking must I be so crude. It’s not like anyone’s here. Well, B, but I overate, I’m sorry. There was no one to share with. Then again, what did I spend all afternoon doing? I spent money on three women. Better to give than receive, am I right? It was tiring but fulfilling. Hell, make it four women if you count an issue of Playboy with Charisma Carpenter. Oh counting, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Meet Me Under The Mistletoe (Erotica) by Stacey Kennedy
    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 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 009 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

You’re much better at keeping count of the 329 Days without Braxton. Are you supposed to be proud of that fact? You’re still alive. 161 Days without jerking Willy monster. Speaking of such, Matt has Shelby for that now, “Girlfriend Reviews,” or “Fiancé Reviews.” Yup, good news but it in no way affects you. Enough bad news that does ha. If you want to be positive and thankful. Besides that, Playboy magazine. There’s the other stuff I bought you, compliments of Braxton’s Aunt Carolina Bound. Again staying in bed. You’re not depressed, and at the same time, yeah, you are? If you’re not, there’s only one thing left for you. ACCEPTANCE. Never. There could be a puppy waiting, but first, there are Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Night Before, Dani Wyatt
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 009 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

And most of them haven’t changed for the most part, even here at The Closing Of The Year. You’re more concerned with New Year’s Resolutions. See Braxton through the year. There’s the New Year, Dr. King’s Birthday. And the day that Braxton died. You killed. You should get your booster shot, New Year’s Day. One more chance to join Braxton. What will you be telling Lady Lu, if anything? “Don’t Look Up” sums up your life in a nutshell. Black man in a house surrounded by love but none of it his. Always waiting, ok. You might as well read “The Man Who Watched The World End.” After December, of course. Free of Christmas Erotica, of cash, of love, never Braxton. B III Of Christmas

329 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

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