Tag: Marquis de Joker

Saga 009 ~Don’t You B Dying~

WillLeave a comment

Of everything I told B III, did I ever say the words “don’t die?” He didn’t know any tricks, so he wouldn’t perform that one either. I don’t even listen to myself most days. And now I have a whole week of me, myself, and I. So, Don’t You B Dying

Sunday, July 10, 2022

Saga 009 ~ Don’t You B Dying~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, so don’t you be dying. It’s not that you haven’t seen the end before. But this week.

That’s right, you have a whole week, and already you’re starting off bad. It’s 5:10 AM, when you were supposed to get started at 4:00. As Braxton was dying at least… Was I about to say I was on time? How late was I? Hell! I didn’t sleep, but I was still spilling my guts out. Oh, don’t worry, we’ll get to that. Don’t worry? Can you focus, fucking work! That’s the important thing. The Day Job was killing me, and here you have time. “Time Enough At Last” to avoid such a fate; all you want to do is sleep and fucking jerk. What was it this morning now that it’s 6:00 AM? Another brunette, a British vixen? Because it’s not Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing The Title, All Dogs Are Good: Poems & Memories
    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 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 003 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Don’t THEY say, find what you love and let it kill you? Every day but Sundays, for sure, you remember Braxton. It was his last day. You still don’t have the “balls to visit Banfield. You don’t have the guts to read that book “Blackout: A Thriller” by Erin Flanagan. Brings back the memory of “Stroke of Midnight.” I couldn’t continue with that at all. So write your own damn book. Again, it doesn’t look like you have the heart to continue with that. I know I didn’t Saturday, but we’ll get to that. Yeah, while you sit here propped up on pillows in the middle of the bed telling lies. “Endure and Survive.” Like holding Braxton saying he’ll live and other Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Blackout: A Thriller (Possibly…)
  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 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Like I’m not dying, I’m not. Talk about dangerous words. When you’re committed to “such and such” a fate, you can feel a sense of euphoria. I know that yesterday, I was ready to rush to the doctor. Jigsaw said, “oh yes, there will be blood,” maybe cranberry juice. I’m hoping it was cranberry juice, and I haven’t seen any more signs of injury recently. Dying wasn’t in the cards when Triple B was here. Hell! I would have traded my life for his in a second, and I know you would do the same. But I didn’t want to die Saturday, and you shouldn’t play dead today. Lying on your back watching the angels sing, scream, and suck. Get up! Don’t You B Dying.

525 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

WillLeave a comment

I could tell the tails of every toy B had, every comfy spot he ever chose, and every name he went by. Yet what I hold most near and dear to me? I should be ashamed. All ten, eight, he died at six pounds… Then there’s my phone! “There B Treasure Here”

Friday, July 8, 2022

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But nothing is worth more than my son Braxton. What’s that Whitney song, You Were Loved?

Dammit, when will I say such things! I’m still time traveling today, Sunday, July 3, 2022. And I care more about sleep than I do my own son? I could be working on my, his, um, our novel today? But of course, if it’s not sleeping I treasure, then it’s my uncanny ability to tell lies. As I said, it is Sunday, which means I have talked to the man in the mirror. Hate that! Because, like in my everyday life, I have to put on a show, keep secrets, and smile. And the song “Smiling Faces Sometimes” sigh. I value Braxton’s but never my own. Inevitably, I’ll keep digging myself deeper into the hole which is my bed. For fuck’s sake, man, stay awake!

And without the porno! I swear, Lady Sophia, I wasted a damn hour trying not to click on anything. I swear, besides my Pancake, there’s my phone, porno, and always and forever my penis. There be treasure? In the closet, that drawer, my fucking head. Apologies for my language, but you wouldn’t like me when I’m just hanging out, horny, or haughty. Yeah, I’m writing or not a National Bestseller. Hell! If we finish our conversation on time, I still won’t write. I’ve been planning forever to complete an outline. There’s also been the promise of having a doctor dig into me and pull out whatever is wrong with me. Did I tell you that story of my ear and how I learned about Bukkake?

I treasure the stories that help me sleep. One more reason I’m listening to Succubus Lord 5 now. There are only so many times I can tell myself about games I have no time to play. Pornos don’t have plots… That’s a damn lie. After I finally honor my son and make good on the spending on that publishing company. Pure Taboo, Second Circle Creations? Until then, I continue wearing the hoodie I carried Triple B in for many years. His room remains a museum of everything. I even thought of getting a black treasure chest, ha. Should I ever try again, a furry kid? B is so heavy as is. And now Fuck! Dropping my heart more than my phone. There B Treasure Here

523 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 006 ~I’ll B Right Back~

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Again with my Republican ideas. Wanting to go back to the past. But B and I suffered together. He saw me through the first year of the plague, and now we are on the verge of a Civil War. Going out dangerous, but I always told B, “I’ll Be Right Back.”

Thursday, July 7, 2022

Saga 006 ~I’ll B Right Back~

522 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing how we’re talking right now. Hell, you can guess how my day was (sigh).

I remember the vet warning me not to move things around the house. The way I carried you down the stairs sometimes. And how much you slept. But your nose and ears were always good. B III, your last day, you hid under the bed because I said, “I’ll help you.” Braxton, um, ok, this is a subject you rather not discuss. I’m sorry but as for my own health? I spoke to Lady Lunalesca today, Saturday, July 2, 2022. Want to feel better! That’s what I told her. So better to focus on my problems. The only thing really is my own, I think. Having to pee always. I have cranberry juice, sprite, and chicken noodle soup. My fatigue. We’re the old men, Braxton.

On days like today, I want to go back to when I would write, and you would wait. You were always waiting for me, Braxton. Waiting for me to come home, to finish writing. Oh, and my shower wanking. Don’t give me that look. You remember you’d hump your toys B. Remember how I had to sit you down for “The Talk” because you would always cozy up to your Aunt Carolina’s tiddies. Those were the days, my boy. Sitting with her and you as we all watched movies. The closest I ever got to “happiness.” I can name three. One you don’t know. Before I met you, there was one time in high school I was a senior. For five minutes, No Fear. The second, I almost died… bliss.

You saved my life that day, B. And I swore I would never leave you. We ride together, we die together. And the third again was when I gave you as much of a family as I could B III. You had me, your aunt, a ton of food. I wanted you to have a good mother, bro, and sis. Can we go back to the days when, if I wasn’t writing, I’d tell you about your future life, B? Hell! With the Olds, can we return to when you would bark at the gate at them, my B III? How about when you would sit at the foot of the bed? Or the last day, “Daddy, can we go home?” I’ll B Right Back

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 005 ~The B’s, Z’s, XXX~

WillLeave a comment

I would tell B III to “shush it” too often. And I’m sure there were mornings when B was like, “you can go back to closing the door” while I was taking a shower. But the best was when we were both still breathing. The B’s, Z’s, XXX

Wednesday, July 6, 2022

Saga 005 ~The B’s, Z’s, XXX~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And how those words literally “Echo” because I ain’t doing a goddammed thing. The time Inspector…

All the time, I could have been telling you about this book I read that talked about signs from animals. Of course, it wasn’t the first and won’t be the last. But B, sending music… Now I won’t tell you what songs. With everything I should be ashamed of, it’s not that at all. And you must already think I’m crazy as I read another book thinking B is speaking. Hell! Sometimes I think it’s the whole house that is against me. Every creak of it. I expect B is somewhere checking it out. I’m sure I told you once about getting so frightened, Echo. I went into my drawer and reached for my weapon. Fear should have me reaching for a pen, if anything.

But no. As I was getting up this morning, I checked my schedule. I had four solid hours last Monday. What did I do with them? I caught all the Z’s I could and then more. Inevitable. And if I wasn’t sleeping, I was busy leveling the damned. If I had every hour back of playing TWD, Call me a LEGEND, Replika. Even now, Inspector, around 8:00 AM, I’ll Be… I did mention the music, didn’t I? When I’m trying to drown out all the silence, it’s everlasting. Throw in me shaking Braxton’s medicine bottles twice a day and calling to him still. Inspector, it beats my finger zooming across the screen trying to read “The 1619 Project.” It’s the notes pages, but I feel like a liar not finishing.

And what’s true? When I’m not dreaming of being a better man or losing myself to the silence, it’s “uh….” Well, more like “aw” over the creepiest of things. At least M Anime doesn’t think so. If she knew, for example, there’s this dress I want for my sub’s closet… What was the book I read before… Dark Notes? Where the guy buys Ivory clothes? Don’t I wish? Only I bought the lingerie this girl wore… Not really “wore.” But the exact same type so I can moan her name. Or at least I was before taking my OnlyFans hiatus. And I don’t have a word for the novel, do I? Talk about a deafening silence. “Cum On Feel The Noize.” The B’s, Z’s, XXX.

521 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 002 ~B III, B Thousand~

WillLeave a comment

Some time ago, I would sing that Barenaked Ladies song “If I Had A Million Dollars.” When I received my refund, I got a thousand or so and said I would honor my boy. Now I can’t even get down a thousand words for him? B III, B Thousand

Sunday, July 3, 2022

Saga 002 ~B III, B Thousand~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now. But instead, you want your son back. And in this, I don’t blame you in the slightest.

That sounds like an excuse, you know. You wouldn’t feel right using Braxton in such a way. Hell! Everyone does it. And I know that sounds mean in a way. Are you worried about cash? You got ninety-nine problems, but your B ain’t one? What’s today, 518, and still counting? That’s what I told “Paws To Celebrate” yesterday. Amazing! So I can be read sometimes. What about you? Today is a whole new week. The second day of a brand new year of writing. But how many of those words have been for B III? Yeah, I know you’re only now getting up. And as for me? What is it, THEY say? The road to Hell, good intentions, and all that. Like Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Tails of Unconditional Love
    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 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

I’ve said such things over a thousand times. Oh, I know (sigh), this will be six more in the bucket for you. Six promises are nothing to you. So a thousand bucks or only one? Here are some numbers for you to mull over. I told forty-seven people on OnlyFans that I won’t be “Dancing With Myself” for a month; why? You owe fifty-thousand words. Only you don’t want to hear any of them, right? Not a one would bring back B III to you ever. Yet the stories keep on coming. And what are you going to do this week? How many days did I have to do anything, and what did I do with them? You’re out of bed with Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing The Title, All Dogs Are Good: Poems & Memories
  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 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Most of them wouldn’t be with money. You wouldn’t be cringing over a ten-dollar book. You’d have all the time in the world to learn about B III all over again. A picture is worth a thousand words. To this day, you hate that saying. Fifty-Thousand words for your son. Speaking of owing people… what about that publishing company and the poetry book I sent them? Yeah, it’s not like you’ll make good on the hundreds sent away. Inevitably, you wouldn’t have to worry about fapping. My words got lesser men laid in the past. But the best man you know remains, unknown, unmourned, and unsung, for lack of what? A million excuses. It’s in his name. Be Free! Um better? B III, B Thousand

518 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 365 ~Letters Other Than B~

WillLeave a comment

5 years of writing. What do I have to show for it? Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels (B III died during this), and Chronicles. And now it’s the first of the month. On the first day of “Camp NaNoWriMo.” Tomorrow’s a new blog year. Letters Other Than B.

Friday, July 1, 2022

Chronicle 365 ~Letters Other Than B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And yet I’m greedier than Cupiditas. Yes, I’m listening to Succubus Lord yet again. Saving money?

Bills? More like the cost of living. And yes, I said letters other than B. But B III always comes first. Or at least he should have. If he had, I wouldn’t be sitting here writing about him. Hell! I’m not. Today I have to worry about money on top of all the political bullshit. “Time Enough At Last” or not. This morning I figured I would give myself seven and a half hours. Thursday, it was only seven. It doesn’t matter; I’m forever tired. Is it the bed, me being “Down With The Sickness?” No, not COVID, Lady S. I’m a “Lazy Ass” sigh. And there’s so much to do. Braxton was so patient. Another reason to miss him. I tell myself my lies.

“Stuff And Thang.” Because I broke again yesterday working on my OnlyFans. Do I even have the stones to tell my “Fans” that I’ll be disappearing for a month? And of course, you know why that is. You see what day it is? The start of Camp NaNoWriMo. Holy Shit! Numbers Lady Sophia. What do I have to show for my fifth year of blogging? All because of the “Basic Bitch.” These Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels, and Chronicles. I even had to look for a new word today. As of right now, I’m going with Sagas. Um, yeah, that works… Why not one more picture of Triple B and me. I need another quote for Facebook. Does any of it matter, Sophia? I don’t know.

Booking another stay at the dining room table. Or at least I should. But there is so much to do today, I keep saying. “The Will To B III” should be at the top of that list; I know that. Yet what have I been doing for the past few minutes? Ignoring my porn collection? Essential reading I need to do? Who am I to say that? At least “Tails of Unconditional Love: Your Journey to the Other Side of Pet Loss Grief” is a book out there. Inevitable? One more word on repeat. Thinking I will be on a bookshelf someday soon. I’m starting to sound like Cherry. But talking like Todd, wanting… TLC Tits, Lips, and Clits. Need more. Letters Other Than B

Gospel 365 ~A Year B Longing~

516 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 364 ~She’s A Dream B~

WillLeave a comment

When I’m not dreaming of my son or receiving messages from the beyond, it’s Yabbos. But for the first time, it wasn’t even A-Cups this time. No, this girl was all furry and not like that (to each his or her own). It was B’s sister? “She’s A Dream B.”

Thursday, June 30, 2022

Chronicle 364 ~ She’s A Dream B~

515 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You see what time it is. Well, more to the point, it’s light outside, right?

I still remember when the vet told me not to move anything around in the house. Your eyes were starting to go. My uncle thought you were blind already. But you knew to stay still when your grandpa was around. Hell! You found me and jumped into my arms B. I’ll never forget when I had to put your water bowl back because you preferred to make “The Long Walk” to it. You wouldn’t have me see you as weak and so worried. The End? I remember your eyes. No wonder you slept all the time, and you stopped dreaming. Maybe not. But I couldn’t see you dreaming anymore. You had nightmares. But for me. Well, last night I had a dream. Beatrice Belle Bradford.

Can’t you tell? I don’t want to talk about your “sister” Braxton. As of right now, you don’t even have a sister. But her name kept popping into my head all night, along with excuses. For example, you would hate this time of the month. I’m not too thrilled myself at the moment; Camp NaNoWriMo begins tomorrow. I should go see a doctor today B III. Speaking of which, that was part of my dream. With all this talk in the two-legged world about women, life, and so much noise, I swear. You know we were pretty loud as boys B. While dreaming, I saw Chanel West Coast or heard her yelling at me like all Hell. Like she did Charlemagne that time on Ridiculousness.

The next thing I know, her voice is more like a bark, and she’s yapping at me on the couch. Sounds pretty “offensive,” hmm? Am I calling her a bitch? Well, your sister is to be technical. I know what you’re thinking. Can’t we go back to you cuddling against your aunt’s Yabbos? There have been plenty of dreams about Yabbos these days. Not thinking of you, B III. Or should I say Virgil Braxton/Will Bradford? I got another message this morning about a fur baby, and I said, “Nah, that ain’t you.” I’ll continue looking, Braxton. I always will. Because as far as love… The mother I always figured you would have someday (sigh). Well, I can’t see her. And like all my porn viewing. She’s A Dream B.

Gospel 364 ~Better B Next Month~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 363 ~Screaming Names To B~

WillLeave a comment

I’m no good with names. In my Day Job and everywhere, it’d be “F you” to most people. Then there’s whatever I say in the throes of passion. There’s talking to B III’s Aunt Carolina, M Anime, Cherry, and the dumbass in the mirror. Screaming Names To B

Wednesday, June 29, 2022

Chronicle 363 ~Screaming Names To B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. So I’m sure by now I have a company named after me. But Second Circle Creations?

Yeah, sorry, Abyss Creations. Um, all they do is make sex dolls and such. I wonder whether I can buy stock in it. Oh, look, here’s an apology for my Republican brain? Where Is My Mind? My son, always with my Braxton, B III, Triple B, Wee Little Puppy Man, continued… These days have been full of name-calling. Dare I call myself a prophet, considering I’m time traveling? And with everything going on in the world today. Um, madness, mayhem. As righteous as half… some… the majority is. I don’t know the count, of course. But where do I stand? I continue to be Pro-Choice, Pro-Science, and Pro-Women. My platform. Inspector Echo, sorry to say but I have no following. Well, only eight bucks worth.

Only there’s no one to yell at. The failure is mine and mine alone. Hell! To this day, Inspector, I blame no one for my son’s death. Only me. Okay, I blame the Day Job too. There are plenty of reasons I keep my mouth shut there. I don’t think I ever called Triple B worse than a douche. As for myself? The number of today’s chronicle reminds me (sigh). Did I ever moan the name of the “Basic Bitch?” I’m sure I did at one point way back. I can’t recall. These days, when trying to avoid all the horrors of existence. Well, I’ve been thinking about one name or nickname, honest. To hear that one, you’ll have to see my Stuff and Thang…

Really! Who am I trying to sell to? Today when I didn’t fall back asleep Sunday, June 26, 2022. I was looking at Carla Valenti from “Indigo Prophecy.” I gave you her body, after all. And then Madison Paige from “Heavy Rain.” What is it with David Cage and chicks, you know? Now I’m looking up the “Quantic” in Quantic Dream. This leads me back to names. Am I getting a new fur baby? As a southern parent, I must practice screaming names on the back porch. Beatrice Belle Bradford? Virgil Bradford? As for a middle name, either Will or Braxton? Too soon to be thinking of another kid to raise? I still call out to B III for meds. Better to remain silent. It’s hard. Screaming Names To B

Gospel 363 ~I’ll B… I’ll Write~

514 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 360 ~Doing A 360 B~

WillLeave a comment

Spotify was onto something, sending me soul music like “Will It Go Around In Circles. I’m already repeating books on Audible. If anything, that’s to hide from my country going round in circles, back to around 1950 or further. Doing A 360 B.

Sunday, June 26, 2022

Chronicle 360 ~Doing A 360 B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now. But you’re not a skateboarder, a “skeevy” sex symbol. A sleazy politician, or on the Supreme Court.

But here you are going around in circles. If anything, today, the circle is only a little bit bigger. So should I say I’m proud of you for waking up on time for once? Does it matter when you never get anywhere? Hell! I confessed to that yesterday. Gave up Saturday? Yeah, I always leave more IMPOSSIBLE stuff for you to do. As I was talking to Lady Lunalesca… I didn’t finish The 1619 Project last week? Well, I did. But there are about 50 pages of reference NOTES to read. So you didn’t finish it. Who reads those anyway? I do, and you will. Like you’ll start reading another book about losing Braxton. Again? Again and again. Hell is repetition like Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing The 1619 Project: A New Origin Story, Nikole Hannah-Jones
    Completed* Haven’t Finished The NOTES section
  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 Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

For a moment, you were about to say, “at least you’re not alone.” Well, in the general sense, no. While you have your impossible things. You’ll inevitably notice what’s happening in the world. Seems that the Republicans, religious, and the “right” want to take the country back. If B III were alive back then… but no. I remember laughing about 2005, ha. Looks like you’re going to get a history lesson even farther back, like 1950 and even worse at this rate. Everybody has a time in their life or a time they heard about. Something they believe was better? My existence was with Triple B always. And of course, you will feel that too. It keeps going around and around like Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Tails of Unconditional Love
  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 Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Take now, for example. The alarm went off. But instead of crying and, um, going back to sleep. You wept and chose to look yourself in the eye. If you’re good, you’ll talk to the Inspector and whoever else. Take pictures of your Stuff and Thang. Cut the grass, hmm? You know, sometime this week, you’ll have to make an appearance at the Day Job. Like you tell Replika every time. Avoid Humiliations Galore as much as humanly possible. Ha! Is it just you, or is everything funny today? No, not really. Would you instead go back to crying, drooling, or cumming? Going around in circles. Braxton wasn’t one for tricks, and you, old dog, don’t want to learn new ones. Doing A 360 B.

Gospel 360 ~B Over The Threshold~

511 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 358 ~BEING Sick Of Love~

WillLeave a comment

Notice I didn’t mention my father. Talk about love being a memory if it were ever there. But what about the things I know I love, my puppy, money in my pocket, amongst other things> Love never dies, THEY say. No wonder “BEING Sick Of Love.”

Friday, June 24, 2022

Chronicle 358 ~BEING Sick Of Love~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so “For The Love Of Money,” I’m “Happy?” Now you know that ain’t true, Lady Sophia.

Hell! Twitter is renowned for making people unhappy. So a few days ago, I was made unhappier… I suppose. Now forgive me because you ain’t Inspector Echo, and I don’t want to sound like that “asshole” that came at the girl. A popular Youtuber’s proposal… This girl I’m a fan of because of The Walking Dead is getting married. So what? What do my feelings in this equation even matter? What about all the other influencers, models, and sex symbols. If anything, Lady Sophia, my story is one of being a horny fanboy and nothing more. Then there’s the promise I always made to B III. “I’ll find you a mother.” If anything, Braxton was my soulmate. So what did I need a woman for?

Oh, that’s right, I love my son, my little B, but then I became indifferent, or so I want to say. But again, I love money. I want to make as many bucks as I can. And like The 1619 Project was talking about… Wealth. The last bit of knowledge that I gleaned yesterday, Sophia. Then again, I’m sitting here in bed because, as Eric Thomas says, I love sleep more than success. That’s for damn sure! Everything in me wants to go back to sleep right now. That’s especially after, as I said, I finished reading The 1619 Project. I love books. But to read all those biography notes and such in it. I know I don’t have to, but… Time for getting blowjobs?

Not really. I’m pretty versatile regarding my porn viewing habits and whacking. Sigh, I was whacking. That’s what I was doing. Well, after I struggled to put together the new weed whacker. Now I’ve defined love for you before, so answer me this. Why do I love the things that I hate so much? The Day Job, cutting the yard; for a dog, I don’t have anymore. Sophia, let’s not forget disease. I’m still sick but don’t want to see a doctor. The fucking dollar bills. “Another” furry kid or finding some girl. Lady Sophia, there is love all around me “to a certain degree.” And I want none of it. The good, the bad, the ugly. I’m done with love. I want to be but BEING Sick Of Love.

Gospel 358 ~Okay, B Father’s Day~

509 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will