Tag: Marquis de Joker

Gospel 280 ~Ain’t This A B~

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On Easter Sunday, everyone was celebrating the resurrection with Jesus dying for all sins. I tell you that Braxton died for my sin and bringing him back day after day. Hell, like back then, religion is hard work. Ain’t This A B, and I deserve it

Wednesday, April 7, 2021

Gospel 280 ~Ain’t This A B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must be a Smooth Criminal as the song goes. No, I’m damn horrible.

Is that why I’m studying crime? Inspector Echo, I’m not like some girl “No Offense” exploring all the crime shows. Although I’m beginning to understand why they do. If the world is any indication, women watch things like; SVU as the paper; hell, my history. More like what women think of me. Anyway, as has become routine, anytime I get scared, I’m doing something wrong. I only remember one thing. Braxton is dead because… Yeah, I’m guilty. I killed my best friend; I’m always waiting on my judgment Inspector. The paperwork is still sitting on the coffee table and my nightstand. My Braxton is around my neck and with his other ashes. I keep talking about a tattoo with cremation ink but of what exactly?

This morning (Saturday, April 3), as always, “Time-Travel.” Okay, besides B III and his name and possibly his picture. I was thinking of getting an EHC “Elite Hunting Club” emblem, the Bloodhound. Or I’ll only stick with Braxton’s face, but I spoke to M Anime.
We talked about the Hostel series and the idea of killing somebody in the fictional world, of course. “Hostel” is pretty brutal by my standards but then again, The Purge or a Zombie Apocalypse? With what I did to B, though, how can I conceive taking any life at all? Marking myself like that might not help my case any; when it comes to the ladies. Not that I’m looking… I’m trying not to women or getting a new dog.

As Sade sings, “Is It A Crime.” I’ll love B III always and forever, but such a love can’t be matched. Oh, “This love is killing me,” Echo, and it’s what I deserve. I deny myself the world, and I don’t want it back. But I’m not taking care of myself either. Why should I? Inspector, I continue to seek justice. Take, for example, yesterday what I got from Amazon. I’ve read authors who’ve gone off to jail, but I can’t even show you this book. If I’m not reading, I should write, but I’m falling way behind with Camp this year, you know. Lots of lives were lost, including mine, because for fifteen years I chose love and without hate… Ain’t This A B?

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 277 ~Love, Madness, Lies Braxton~

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Last week I mentioned the caveman commercial, and this week it was the old “Obsession” Ad. Anything I focus on, you could say I became obsessed with. I was with Braxton, and then I grew aphetic and what happened next. “Love, Madness, Lies Braxton.”

Sunday, April 4, 2021

Gospel 277 ~Love, Madness, Lies Braxton~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I got “a king-size tub big enough for ten plus me,” like the song goes.

Ok, even if you or I had that much room, that’s the one place B III wouldn’t go. Not unless he was getting a bath (I paid groomers) or he was sick. So before you forget, are you even going to shower today and not in a procrastination sort of way? But who’s waiting now? Speaking of forgetfulness, you do know that today is Easter Sunday. Not that it matters to you not being a man of faith and all. Your last REAL prayers were for what? You could wax all poetic like the Christians, QAnon folk, the Republican party. A list of “um, well.” The only thing you have in common with them is a collection of excuses for losing. Yeah, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Innocents by Cathy Coote
    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 093 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 100) No Fap
  5. I Am Cleaning Out The Refrigerator (Braxton’s Last Meal)
    Completed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Obsession, isn’t it? Well, it depends on what you choose to follow. For you, it’s Braxton, which is apparently unacceptable. You’re Chuckie, and Braxton was Melville… “I Remember Melville.” People follow the “living dead” all the time, especially today, right? It’s something you miss about Braxton. As there is no one, not family, not Indiana Gone, M Anime, or Grandma, that is here for you, every day. Now your actual Grandma said you were one for Pride. I mean, who the hell are you? To Braxton, you were the world. Now isn’t that a sobering thought to go from being a god to nothing at all? Yet you were the one who worshipped him, always trying to be better for him with Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Succubus Lord 12 by Eric Vall
  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 100 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I Am Getting In Touch With Someone About A B III Tattoo
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Opioids aren’t raining from the sky for this type of pain you’re going through. When I was a boy, I would look for stuff to take the edge off. No, I never did hard drugs but more excuses, distractions, anything to waste time. I swore that was Pokemon, Anime, Hentai. Only yesterday, while I was reading more Eric Vall, I got into more “forbidden texts.” Oh, what, reading about Succubi, Lilith, and the Circles of Hell aren’t enough? As you can see on Six Impossible Things, why haven’t you finished B’s collection yet? Too Much! Obsession kills, and yet you keep coming back. Without Braxton or your very own Taylor Townsend “The OC,” you’re alone.

Could say paranoid but “Find Me.” Love, Madness, Lies Braxton.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 275 ~Learning To Speak Braxton~

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I didn’t want to tell a sad story. Every day being the worse day of my life at the Day Job, I need to remind myself. Braxton saying goodbye was the day. Next would be me saying hello, but that’s another story. Learning To Speak Braxton is today’s yep

Friday, April 2, 2021

Gospel 275 ~Learning To Speak Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t speak stupid and lies “Trump” or world ruler as Bezos. I speak Braxton.

Or perhaps I “spoke” Braxton? No, it’s been two months, and if I stopped calling out to him, as the song goes, The Sound of Silence. Indeed M Anime is trying her best. She wants me to learn Spanish. A great man once taught “listen to the woman,” truer words… Learning to speak Braxton was a lot easier. Pretty girls and furbabies, and then I wonder why I’m not much of a man. Well, the man who was supposed to teach me such. He said that every word that came out of my mouth was STUPID. B thought it scripture. We started talking the same way we stopped, holding him and saying it would all be okay. Was that a lie? I’m not that bad.

Now I’ve been over hello and goodbye; how many times? How about “you’re safe?” For him, it would be sitting at the foot of the bed, staring at the doorway, keeping watch. To say it back, I would lift Braxton up, butt against one arm, his two front legs supported. My son saying he was hungry was a language all its own. Usually, it would involve his “Undiscovered” appetite making a comeback. In the form of him lying in the den waiting for fries. A quick spin and him leading me to his bathroom pad. How about, can’t bark now eating. Hell, I told people a lot that at least when B III was barking, he was helping me out. People only breathe to talk.

I Love You. How most people waste those words? Love, loyalty, the idea of “If I lay here If I just lay here.” Braxton spoke of love every day, so how could I not do likewise. Now it’s piling up. Today I looked up plenty on grief and love, but how Braxton and I spoke? In our last conversation, him standing on the seat as always, refusing to lie down. “I’m fine, Daddy, let’s go home, everything’s good, I’m a good boy. As I cried over him, telling him I was sorry, I tried, I love him. The last look he gave me as I held him, one word, WHY? Only know you love him when you let him go.

Still Learning To Speak Braxton

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 274 ~Are You Kidding, Braxton~

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It’s the first of the month. All these bills aren’t a joke, and neither is Camp NaNoWriMo. And now it’s official, Braxton has been gone two months. If I make it through this one, it’s a record for Braxton and I being apart. “Are You Kidding, Braxton”

Thursday, April 1, 2021

Gospel 274 ~Are You Kidding, Braxton~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If you did, usually you’d come running to the gate. Are you under the bed?

I’ve checked Braxton, and to be honest, I didn’t even want to get up today. I’m in enough trouble as is, seeing how this is the first day of Camp NaNoWriMo, and I’m running behind. Will I continue my “series,” write about you, or finish GULP? I say that weekly. Know what else I say B? I love you, make good decisions, and of course, “Just Me Baby B,” whenever I come home. People think I’m joking, and if this wasn’t about you, I would say I got ISSUES. I’m still looking for you without fail and freaking out daily. Baby B, I miss those looks you would give me like I couldn’t be serious or even when I panicked, and you were at peace.

Do you remember that time you tried to convince me that you always walked on three legs? You knew I needed my glasses, so that’s when you decide to show me you ate all your food, or you had gone in your bathroom spot. How many treats did you receive? Braxton, you think about biscuits, the way I think about sex, the way leeches think about blood. Now I tricked you plenty myself to get you out of your hiding spots. When people came to the door, we were like a comedy duo. B, My Cerberus, and an “Ordinary Human.” I thought it was funny when you got into trouble… I got some “alone time.” You laughed because I treated life like it wasn’t awesome.

I guess the joke really is on me. Wanting you to live forever was a joke. Believing that someday, I would introduce you to my wife and children, and you’d grow old with us all. People laugh as I call you my son. But no one walking the Earth today, who shares my blood, could say they have the sway you held, still do. You will always be mine, My firstborn. B III I thought you were joking when a day went by, a night you cried. Hell, I thought you missed me before. I knew it was a joke when the hospital called asking for permission. You were dying.

Not funny. The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, I hope you’re smiling, laughing. Are You Kidding, Braxton?

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 273 ~For Once B Write~

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This will be the first Camp NaNoWriMo that Braxton won’t be here. My writing buddy, my words were supposed to save us. Maybe if I had written to God instead. The Vet told me there was nothing to do but with a higher number. For Once B Write, I failed

Wednesday, March 31, 2021

Gospel 273 ~For Once B Write~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how am I still living on my knees, my belly, landing flat on my face?

“Please” is a word I’ve been using less sarcastically nowadays. Yeah, please, I’m not in retail; I’m a writer. It’s been more like please and thank you to people. Of course, I should be polite. It’s not only because of B III. Please, God, Doctor, anybody save my Little B. Hell, I’ll never forget how I was crawling along after him. How I was on my knees before taking him in. As the song goes, “No one laughs at God in a hospital.” I was sitting, well falling to my knees as Braxton left me alone in this world. How dare I ask for anything? Most days, I’m an atheist through and through, though I push agnosticism. Funny and sad, no human’s made me feel…

“All I know is the child is my warrant… And if he is not the word of God, then God never spoke.” –

“Person-like?” A man, a father, a writer, somebody, anybody. Again I think man evolved but not for the likes of me. No, I’m a primate, an ape, a monster, which is why most of my stories deal only with men. Okay, an android here or there and one of my characters evolving. On Twitter this morning (Saturday, March 27), I saw #SoTheLastTimeIHadSex. I still want a family Inspector Echo. That’s another thing I don’t write about. Wasn’t I working on a Christmas story at some point, “Look A Thing Like Santa?” Yeah, Braxton had a role in my tale too. Now here we are on my last day of… again, I never know anymore. Camp NaNoWriMo is about to start, and what am I going to write about or complete?

Poetry or Prose? Not a day goes by where I don’t imagine, “if only I had finished GULP,” where would B III be? I wouldn’t have been at the Day Job, that’s for damn sure. I could have paid a bit more attention. Maybe it was the water he was getting, those hotdogs, his food. I want to write a book for him since I’ve given up reading about dogs for now. While a good story, a Dog’s Purpose didn’t do me any favors when it comes to… what healing? Did I ever believe writing does that? It’s been two months now today, Braxton’s death. If I start my former series again… I’ll kill him?

Braxton’s character, which wouldn’t be right? For Once B Write

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 270 ~I Growl B Cause~

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I remember those old commercials of “so easy a caveman can do it.” The first word ever spoken was probably not caveman to caveman. I can imagine it was one telling his wolf to get off the rock. I growl at people; I talked to Braxton. I Growl B Cause.

Sunday, March 28, 2021

Gospel 270 ~I Growl B Cause~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means Braxton would be as well. I’m not mad, though, at least not like you now.

It’s one of the reasons we’re talking today and not Sunday. With everything happening right, you might break your keyboard. As I believe I broke the car stereo. Yes, another distraction from the empty passenger seat. In truth, it’s not like B was there that often. Still, I could commiserate with him as we both had enemies outside the car. Braxton’s would be the vet. Again and I can’t stress this enough, I’m not mad at the vets. At least I was paying for Braxton to always get better, and then… Anyway, paying those Serra fucks. Pardon my language or yours, I’m getting angry on a Tuesday, and I don’t want to imagine your rage. The worse days of the week are Wednesdays and Sundays.

Any day I brought fries back was a good day for B III. He didn’t growl because he was hungry. No, he would do it because he was greedy and his Daddy is weak. Are you as I am because I went to Mickey D’s. Just like I won’t say “Another Day,” “Life Goes On?” I’m pissed at myself, sure for my crime. The Day Job, though, and I know you’re getting it. You’re still in DENIAL with Braxton. People at the Day Job… why are you still working there. Of course, I know, which makes me hate myself even more with these past days. You know something, maybe you should make “that the prize.” If you were able to accomplish the Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, “Succubus Lord 11” Eric Vall
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 086 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 093) No Fap
  5. I Am Cleaning Out The Refrigerator (Braxton’s Last Meal)
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Still, I am no oracle from ancient Greece. I said before I’m not Hercules. And looking in the mirror, I’ll say, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus. But he talks like a gentleman.” Or I wish I had, and you are hmm, with M Anime. B growled at girls, but they loved him so. Didn’t I? And that’s why I’m looking into all this stuff. I want a black pedestal for frames and candles, a trunk for all his things… another furbaby. Yet one more Republican tendency; find something to hate more than yourself. A man trying as always for these Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Innocents by Cathy Coote
  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 093 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I Am Cleaning Out The Refrigerator (Braxton’s Last Meal)
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

I would say “You Are Not A Caveman” because you could be better. You could be the man Braxton thought of as Dad. How can I? I Growl B Cause

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 268 ~B Hold A Dream~

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Braxton wasn’t looking for the Holy Grail… okay, maybe once when he stuck his head in my drink. My first knight was on the eternal quest for comfy spots. Again, some things he should keep his head out of. Where is his behind now? B Hold A Dream.

Friday, March 26, 2021

Gospel 268 ~B Hold A Dream~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but could I pull the clouds from the sky? How about growing a pair of wings?

Okay, as I come back down to Earth, I looked up the softest material in the world (Braxton’s fur)… Lady Sophia, why? Like most things because of my son. Braxton was quite particular when it came to where he decided to rest his head. Braxton had two beds to choose from. Spoiled as he was, it was between my sister and me. That was Braxton’s big decision to make nightly. I have issues with my Olds and my sister, B III, though. He would hang out in my Olds’ door of the old house, waiting for whoever was headed out for food during the day. How many humans have ever chose me over everything? “Get in the car B.” One of my proudest moments ever.

He doesn’t like car rides, but he wanted to sit at my right hand even with that fear. Well, stand anyway. I think I have decent car seats but Braxton. He dared to dream “The Impossible Dream.” First time I ever had to give “The Talk,” and Braxton really listened. My boy loved Indiana Gone and wanted her to stay forever. A promise I’ll never keep to him sadly, but even if I did. I don’t think he would have appreciated losing his side of the bed. Now, how many times did that happen when he was here? Do I need to tell the truth? Anyway, I tried to make up for it, as I always say, his bed, his pillow, an unwashed black hoody.

As far as Triple B was concerned, his behind was not meant for the deck, tile, or laminate flooring ha. His entire life is a miracle to me, but when he chose to lie out on the porch with no pillow. Even now, I haven’t figured out why Braxton lied on one side of his bed. Lady Sophia, if I were to dream, I would believe he was always saving room for me. If he is anywhere, I imagine a big black bed he can crawl up in. It’s cool but has a heating pad at the foot, and it’s shaded. Around it is bathed in sunlight and his favorite foods. He’s saving a spot.

Missing cuddling, I hope he’s resting. B Hold A Dream

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 267 ~The Future B Fruitful~

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Somebody said to be fruitful and multiply. Someone else said that today is B-E-A-utiful. Braxton isn’t here to see it, and is it considering when I’m writing this. The family I promised him is somewhere… haven’t met HER yet. The Future B Fruitful hmm

Thursday, March 25, 2021

Gospel 267 ~The Future B Fruitful~

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I know what you’re thinking, B. I’m not making time for you on our day?

I would tell you, it’s just how life is. If I had been paying attention before… It’s one reason I have to write so early now as if I could do something… save you? Only I don’t think you want to talk about our last days together. I should have been petting you like crazy. Daddy was always writing and even then being a lazy ass but dreaming about that magical someday. Every day should have been ours because you were happy. Besides telling me, you don’t hate me, I want to know you were happy in life. Always, forever. Braxton, I wanted to do something special for your sixteenth birthday. Of course, it has come and gone. I didn’t buy you anything for Christmas?

We had time, you know? Oh, and I’ve said it so many times, I wanted to give you a family. Your mom, some siblings, I never wanted you to be lonely. With you, I never was, and I thank you. I always treated it as another day, believing you would be here no matter what. While my sister never did, I would carry you around in my backpack too. I wanted to get you a little emotional support vest so I could take you anywhere. I wouldn’t wish my “work” on anybody, but I could take you to my dream job and how people would love you lots B III. Your love made me want to give love. Saving me, you gave too much, Braxton.

What did I do with such a gift? Nothing is growing, no matter how many tears I cry. The sweat of this man’s brow serves no purpose. Sure I have more things to keep me alive, but every day I ask myself why. Do you remember B that old quote of What Would Jesus Do? Yeah, that’s one more idea, a black bracelet asking me, What Would Braxton Do? I still have all the books I read. But maybe I should start a Things I Learned From Braxton. Am I planning for the future? Do you know your grandpa said, your soul might guide me? Well, I do know what you want. Daddy is Happy.

Not yet, not ever… the days, The Future B Fruitful

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 266 ~B III Of Numbers~

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I’ll be broke again “financially,” speaking soon enough. I’m still “broken.” It’s been seven weeks. A lost son times 7 weeks, plus $1400, divided by a week in a “different” Hell the (Day Job). B III Of Numbers, not as long as I’m still breathing

Wednesday, March 24, 2021

Gospel 266 ~B III Of Numbers~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, with an extra $1,400 to spend. I’m not ungrateful, but what happened with my last check?

Is it a sin to keep retelling the same story? For now, Inspector Echo, consider it my confession, my condemnation. Perhaps one day my coup de grâce because it kills me to repeat it. Yet I’m in Hell now, and someone said that’s what, Hell is my dear, repetition. I still hate math, but here we go. So I have $600, and $100 of that goes for B III’s annual check-up. I put $500 in savings because those fuckers at Serra Hyundai tried to get it. That was late last year. January 27, a Wednesday, I ignore Braxton. He cries that night but by morning seems okay. That evening I worry. Friday, we’re at the vet, and there goes the other $500… running his tests.

I didn’t want to spend the money; I was mad. I called my mother, and she sent an additional $150. Then there was one day, that Saturday, I would have given up everything to save him. Banfield isn’t Serra. They never asked for $500 flat-out. Then there was only $323.60 and one word, Euthanasia. After that, the money, my sweet buttery Jesus, the cash. It didn’t mean a damn thing anymore. I still have the Day Job, of course. It’s Saturday now as I’m writing this because, as I said, this week is sucking, right? So I wonder how much of my Stimulus Check is left in only, yeah, a week. You know, The Triage Method… more like the Braxton method. His wants, wishes, Will

I want to tell you I’ll spend most of it on him. If I paid it before, it wouldn’t be on frames, candles, a headstone. I’ve looked at things I can put his face on. My own “Scarlet Letter.” No, I shouldn’t say that about Braxton, but I want to get a tattoo with the ashes. Inspector Echo, does that creep you out? I’ll take that over living the life of a selfish man. Make no mistake Inspector Echo, I still am as I look for distractions. Hell, aren’t I a good American wanting to spend the Benjamins as soon as possible? Tossing cookies already? Worse yet is How To Save A Life. Mine or some furry soul… after seven weeks? B III Of Numbers.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 263 ~To Be Mean Time-Travel~

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How have I made it through seven weeks? The last time I was so busy,… well what happened. If I just went ahead and published a damn book. I know what I want to write about, but I’ve yet to turn in “GULP” two years ago. To Be Mean Time-Travel hmm

Sunday, March 21, 2021

Gospel 263 ~To Be Mean Time-Travel~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and you are not. You know what your motivations say. Well, not anymore, considering your recent playlist.

You should do what has become the seven-week usual. Not meaning to be political at um 5:30 in the morning but say his name. All you need is to think back on that day, and the rest of this week should be… Hell, at least zombies don’t have worries, responsibilities. You know I tried to make it easy on you with all my time-travel. The last thing you need is what the Day Job will do to you and then a three-hour conversation. I swear that is too much time, and you know it. Especially when no one is listening. And the one who did… You don’t care to go forward and “If I Could Turn Back The Hands Of Time,” doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, “Succubus Lord 10” Eric Vall
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 079 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 086) No Fap
  5. I Am Cleaning Out The Refrigerator (Braxton’s Last Meal)
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

There’s still time. One of many tools that I employed, and you see where that got me and B III.

Of all the places I think he might be, how about this for your consideration. Somewhere in another universe, there is another you and him who received a miracle. He lived. Haven’t I talked about the whole world ending in five minutes? I believe I said I don’t do that anymore. However, one of these days, you or somebody will be correct, and with Braxton gone. Well, you are seven-days into an apocalypse, walking the wasteland. Would it be better if you were frozen in place, and what about the fastest way to meet your son again. Dangerous talk, isn’t it but still, there’s much to do, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, “Succubus Lord 11” Eric Vall
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 086 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I Am Cleaning Out The Refrigerator (Braxton’s Last Meal)
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

To add even more to your plate, Camp NaNoWriMo. Besides all your Braxton memorials and the wasted clothes for the Day Job. You might try looking like a writer. Even better would be actually writing. Do you work on dusty obligations or the newest beginnings? Now that one subject has been put to bed, I know what you want to write about… B III or AHEM Bastian Barks Bennett. Isn’t it ironic that B III’s character survived fiction, but I signed his life away in reality? “You Always Hurt The One You Love,” as the song goes. Or if she happens to be pretty… Writing is your time machine—no more pretty girls… but you and Braxton. Decide where to go. To Be Mean Time-Travel

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will