Chronicle 344 ~Failure Has To B…~

Times when B III failed me *silence* I yield back. Thank you, Ted Lieu. And oh yeah, The January 6th Hearings started last night. Another Republican tendency… I’m a failure, but I didn’t try overturning democracy. No, my fur-baby died. Failure Has To B

Friday, June 10, 2022

Chronicle 344 ~Failure Has To B…~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now and notice the B in that. There is no B in failure. No, not my boy.

“Sometimes I tell the boy old stories of courage and justice, difficult as they are to remember.” The Road (2009)

I remember this episode of Daria 4×05 “The F Word.” Of all the words beginning with F that B III heard me say, “Fine,” “Famous,” “Fuck” I didn’t read to him of failure, My Lady. The keyword there being READ, because God, how I told him about my failures being “Human.” And while I’m busy thinking about music. Why did I tell Braxton such things?

“I hope he’s not like me, I hope he understands
That he can take this life and hold it by the hand
And he can greet the world with arms wide open” With Arms Wide Open – Creed (Human Clay Album)

That’s why? I have told you so many stories of how he got his name. And Hell, one more reason he might return as a she so I can keep up the B theme. BEATRICE! Though with the things I do in this life. In all likelihood, I’m going to Hell, and I’ll need my Cerberus, Virgil, Todd, thank you.

Oh, but I haven’t read Succubus Lord in quite a while. Not since 2021, to be honest. I listened to it this year, but I haven’t begun listening to Succubus 4 (Gnome Place Like Home). No. I would instead read about people mourning their BFFF. (Best Furry Friends Forever) daily. One more thing I remember about these stories is that some feel they failed their “children.” But somehow, get past it. Hell! I spent $4.00 on Through My Dog’s Eyes: A Memoir to Help Heal Grief. And that’s only 59 pages. How many words do I have for Triple B now! That’s including all the letters I’ve written to him, Lady Sophia, right? There are much more “important” things. Um, like, The 1619 Project, sigh.

But no, I choose to look at Asa Akira’s ass. Only that’s not what made make me cum last night. Yet again, it was thinking about an English vixen’s cherry red lips and some choice brunettes, to be honest. As you’re learning, your country is going to Hell on primetime? Is that why I had a hard time reading Thursday. Seeing the insurrection, democracy’s risk? Between that and watching Asa Akira fuck, imagining a virgin, and dirty words? Well, I was inspired. You know it’s my dream to own a brothel. Braxton and me, like Domino and Dennis Hof. Reading and writing about it in bed isn’t helping. Stay Woke

“It’s just that… some of us… some of us have to forgo that luxury… so that the rest can have it. Some very few of us… have to force ourselves not to feel. Like me. Like you.” -Equilibrium (2002)

Why do I choose to fail? Do I accept this? Never! Failure Has To B…

495 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 338 ~When Will I B~

When will I be? The GQP talks a lot of S*** about when life begins. Most days I spend lamenting when my son’s life ended. Bad choice of words. Furry with four legs… no less my son. One worth living for because for myself, I still ask. When will I be

Saturday, June 4, 2022

Chronicle 338 ~When Will I B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. So that means I should get used to being interviewed. But I find myself censored more.

When will I lose this Republican ideology? That’s not the question I meant to start with today, but I’m tired for many different reasons. Even getting up at 4:00 AM. Ok, and then? When will I start writing… well, anything for real? As I said, I struggle to get up. And that’s with January 31, 2021, and January 11, 2022. And now, Camp NaNoWriMo will begin next month. As I said yesterday, besides the urge to pee, there’s the need to write. When will I do anything at all? Yesterday it felt like there was so much to do. And yet I feel like nothing was accomplished. Not a damn thing, Lady Lunalesca, but missing my boy. Mourning Braxton is my PROFESSION. I’m no Spartan.

Willy, what is your profession? Lunalesca, there are so many places I can go with that. Am I talking about, Stuff and Thangs, OnlyFans, just being, um, skeevy. Fucking word! Luna? Is it the fact that I don’t know who I am anymore? Not even how to spell my name? My name? As if it were ever my own, to be honest. Hell! I’ve always hated it, so you know. What am I doing with this existence? If the last few minutes are any indication… Well, I was going to say wasting my time. My time? Nothing belongs to me. Or that’s what I feel. Every day there’s one more reason to miss my son. Now he was mine because he chose me above all.

Why? Now that is the question of the hour. Um, several hours considering what I’ve been doing since, yes, 4:00 in the morning. Now it’s 6:30 AM, and what do I have to show Lu? Why do I exist in this routine? It’s not even a Saturday routine. It’s the wake-up, write, and/or post. Either go to the Day Job, the store, there’s PetSmart, and it all leads back to this bed to do nothing in the slightest. Nothing is stopping me from staying in bed. Closing my eyes B. Why aren’t you trying to find me? I’ll never get his eyes out of my mind. Can you blame me for going to PetSmart? It’s where I’ll be. But to LIVE? When Will I B

489 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 337 ~Didn’t Read It B~

Don’t make me a liar. What am I a Republican? If I say I will read The 1619 Project, I will. And as far as things I need to read… My Turn To B III (the book I wrote for my son). A doctor’s bill. A grocery list. But I’m tired. “Didn’t Read It B.”

Friday, June 3, 2022

Chronicle 337 ~ Didn’t Read It B~

Hey Lady Sophia,

I AM a Billionaire right now, but I didn’t read that when B was still alive. I’m a liar, next to STUPID…

I hate being a liar. Of course, we can talk about me lying to my son. Or what about NaNoWriMo, when I wasn’t writing “every day.” At the moment, I’m pissed off about what happened yesterday. A Chart Topper. The 1619 Project. I haven’t read it all. Not yet. The Spring Challenge fucked me, or instead, I fucked myself. I was working on OnlyFans. And also pardon my language. Anyway, I clicked one of the reference buttons and READ? It could be worse, Lady Sophia. At least someone wrote a book for me to lie about. What about “My Turn To B III,” hmm? Hell! What about Gulp? I should be working on those two titles, but I’m reading about my junk’s worth. Eight bucks.

I told myself I would start gearing up to write for Camp NaNoWriMo in July. Lady Sophia, I’ve felt this calling to share some stories of me and B III. Even some from Triple B’s perspective? Of course, we’re here on June 3, and I haven’t felt like time traveling. Inevitable, having another doctor’s visit. But you saw what it took for me to get my ear “bukkake” last time. I was reading everything on ear care. I can look back at my own words about when I would go to the doctor. But I haven’t read another bill… inevitable. It’s like reading all the stuff I need to buy today. I still miss putting B III on the list. Something that I could accomplish.

Can I say that I read anything when he’s not around? I started to think I didn’t read any of those grieving books. And let’s not forget most of 2021 when I was in shock. At least this year, I remember The Dog Stars and Tender Is The Flesh. Cherry asked me about it, and I read one of her stories this morning. Girls and horrific experiences, I am so bad. Besides bukkake, there’s been Azusa Ayano and Xreindeers. “Bad man. I’m a bad, bad man.” Show me a pretty girl with a dark, dirty, and depraved story, truth, fiction… I’m all eyes, ears, penis. I’m capable of learning plenty which explains my grades in school. All F’s yet somehow? I did it “My Way.” Nope, Didn’t Read It B.

488 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 331 ~You Wouldn’t Believe B~

You wouldn’t believe B; I need more sleep. That’s what I told my son plenty of mornings as soon as the sun was up. And afternoons after work. You wouldn’t believe B if he told you those were the best days of our lives. And now You Wouldn’t Believe B.

Saturday, May 28, 2022

Chronicle 331 ~You Wouldn’t Believe B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. I should say I’m crying right now. Disappointed, Discombobulated, playing with my dick. Could be true

You wouldn’t believe B AHEM, “when somebody loved me, everything is beautiful.” Hell! All I know is that I never want to open my eyes. Be it 2:30 AM to discover all the lights are on. My standard for waking up at 4:00 AM is because I want to be “Successful.” 5:15 AM? You’ll have to excuse me about the time. This morning, I discovered the last day, I felt “normal.” Well, I take that back. I haven’t felt like that since Braxton died but let’s say healthy… Tuesday, January 11, 2022. The question is, what am I going to do, Lunalesca? At the moment, not a damn thing. But when it was my ear… I was listening for B III. Dick ain’t helping anybody.

You wouldn’t believe B if he said that his Dad would find a way to save us both, Lunalesca. I’m trying Lunalesca. And yes, I know you could go all Master Yoda on my ass. But again, speaking of my ass. That’s what led to my discovery this morning. All it takes is getting out of your head. My big one or the one I’m damn-near always using, Lu? The one from Friday, um yeah. Then there’s my writing. Didn’t I say some lady asked me about it at the Day Job? Well, another girl asked yesterday. Talk about trying not to be discovered. I’m the guy with a dead fur baby. What more is there to me these days. Going through albums, not Braxton’s.

You wouldn’t believe B thought he was dying and that I wish… Haven’t I said enough dangerous words this Saturday? It’s not even 7:00 AM, Lunalesca and all I want to do is go back to sleep. Of course, you know I haven’t left the bed yet except for nature’s call. Again with what happened on January 11. I’m thinking about Sunday, January 31, 2021. The day I told my best friend goodbye. At least this morning, I wished a Happy Birthday to Cherry. I don’t know where I was at 25. As far as my Emergence Day, well, to sing you a song Lunalesca, “the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” But “Endure and Survive.” You Wouldn’t Believe B

482 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 330 ~Long Story Short B~

I always imagined that I would be the Dad that would read to my kids. Most of the books I read, considering my son was 15. Which is how old in dog years? Anyway, reading about grieving didn’t help me vote. Long Story Short B.

Friday, May 27, 2022

Chronicle 330 ~Long Story Short B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it isn’t because of a book. I have some stories to tell. Where are they?

How was your day? My Olds always asked though they didn’t give a damn. Braxton? First, a brisk walk outside, a bag full of fries. And passing out in the bed. Then I’d be ok. I continue to think about this line, you don’t want a girlfriend; you want a therapist who’s good in bed. Um well. I had my Braxton, who loved to cuddle and then sat at the foot of the bed keeping watch. I swear I should have gotten Braxton registered as Emotional Support. He might believe everything I had to go through on the day-to-day. Hell! I don’t even know, as I’m time traveling right now. Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, people, always suck. Sorry Disney.

I never read B III fairytales. Most of the stories I read aren’t child friendly. I keep saying to nobody at all. He would hate what I’m reading now. For this week, I’m looking into what they call “Final Frontier” books because of Amazon. I can’t turn down a challenge. Funny right? I mean a reading challenge. Besides B guarding me, I miss him sitting on my lap as I read. The last book B might have heard while bad was BREASTESES by Maximo Montoya. The two before, A Different Alchemy and The Island. Coincidence? The Island is all about being alone. And A Different Alchemy… Father loses his child. Breasts are something both B and I agree on. The Succubus Lord 7. That series?

I told Braxton’s Aunt a while ago one of the reasons I go to B-Dubs on Saturdays is part of our story. It was the Saturday before Braxton died. I look at Succubus Lord, like that? There’s always so much more to add to “My Turn To B III.” The novel I wrote for Braxton. Only did I work on that today, Tuesday, May 24, 2022, Election Day? Talk about not reading the assignment. The only name I recognized was the guy’s name on my gun license. Don’t go there. Then there are all the books on Pet Loss I’ve been into. I’m still breathing. I’m Alive! Two words, and what would I be reading? 2021 shocked. 2022 I’m still grieving. Long Story Short B

481 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 324 ~Time To B III~

Well, it’s time, but the only thing I’m sure of is that I’ll be crying at some point. I wish it was always at 4, be it AM or PM. I don’t feel like getting up, and my son is gone. Like love and grieving, my stupidity has plenty of time. Time To B III.

Saturday, May 21, 2022

Chronicle 324 ~Time To B III~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But of course, you expect me to say that. It’s routine, it’s regular, it’s all ruined.

That was 4:00 PM yesterday, to be specific. Do you remember that episode of How I Met Your Mother? (1×18) “Nothing Good Happens After 2AM.” Amend that to 4:00 PM? Lunalesca, I splooged all over Friday, which I deserve, for working on my Stuff & Thangs. At least I should have filmed it. But of course, you know who I talked to at the time. Speaking of BAD memories, I remember when my father kicked the shit out of me for not doing my Math homework. Luna, such dreaded memories pop up? IBC Root Beer? The worse thing is that my son died around 4:00 PM. No, I left after the fact and never saw him again. And yes, the tears are to be expected.

Lunalesca, you wonder why I start crying at 4:00 AM. Well, this morning, it was 1:45 AM. The lamp was still blazing, the TV was on, and I was surrounded by the messes I had made. Wow, I didn’t expect this conversation to go this way. Mind you. 4:00 AM thoughts? More like 6:30 AM. And that’s because I went back to sleep. I’m in no damn hurry. Seize The Day? Hell! Yesterday, I realized STUPID mistakes on top of the humiliations I suffered. For example, why I’m not feeling better “The Placebo Effect?” And why my Cranberry juice tasted “funky.” I grabbed the Cranberry-Raspberry instead. Stuff makes me feel sick. Stupidity in and of itself tells me I don’t belong here. Such dangerous words…

Now that’s nothing new, Lu. Going back to high school days, junior college Group #4 and She Who Won’t Be Named. So grateful to forget the dick-teasers, skeezers, and weirdos. The last time I could say I “Got 5 On It.” Yet another reason to miss Triple B. No fives… And 4:00 AM was a goal instead of a burden. 4:00 PM, he would be at his post for me. But “comedy comes in threes,” THEY say. And my son being gone… the comedian’s dead. Two against the world, that was us. Lunalesca. Where will I be Saturday 4:00 PM? Horrifying to imagine it. The wrong time but the right man, ha, always in the wrong place. That was my B. Time To B III

475 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 323 ~Want To B Read~

Do you want to know what I’ve been reading this week? Chances are none of it is my own work. I sent B’s Aunt all her books. And how much does Cherry trust me? B trusted me with his life, and now I can’t even publish a title about it? “Want To B Read”

Friday, May 20, 2022

Chronicle 323 ~Want To B Read~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but that would mean I have my own feature in the Bible. I never read much.

I do mean of the Bible, of course. Revelation as I’m all about the end of the world, my Lady. There was the Gospel of John because, as I’ve said, I can’t resist book challenges. Christians blah. So that got me to Proverbs. Um, that’s nonfiction, huh? Who decided, ha? For the record. Sophia, the world ended on January 31, 2021, at approximately 3:30 PM. It’s been so long since I worked on Braxton’s book I wonder if it’s in there. Hell, I could barely get it up to talk to you today. It’s Monday, so yes, I’m time traveling. You also know that this week sucks. And did I need to dive into porno for the third day in a row? It was delivered…

Well, erotica, harem romance, a fantasy? I’m not sure what to call it. Succubus Lord Series. Before I go any further, and while it’s on my mind, I owe you an apology Lady Sophia. I thought after Braxton died, I would be telling you stories about the two of us. A father and son type of thing. Now all the voices blend these days. But yes, I’ll never forget Braxton. If I don’t tell you our stories, I at least need to publish his book, but no. I made it to the dining room table this morning. And come this afternoon. I’m trying not to. A sex joke again, apologies. Anyway, I came back to bed after the book delivery. A reason to go outside…

Hell! I would settle for a reason to make it into the den and read. I haven’t bought anything I thought of for Triple B, dammit! But I have an extensive collection of grieving and mourning books. This year has been about breaking streaks, and soon no more dog titles Sophia. Damn book challenge brought to you by Amazon. Final Frontier and Chart Topper titles are needed. I have a whole library of stuff I haven’t read. Gifts for Braxton’s Aunt, Cherry. Talk about women who love their books. The ones I read bring out even more tears by the day. The ones I’m listening to bring out other bodily fluids, or I hope not. Braxton’s book, though? Books I write. Want To B Read.

474 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 317 ~B It So Small~

All The Small Things, The Little Things, Pretty Young Thing. And Little B was the cure for them all. I would tell B that he would be as tall as a king. I go back and forth between him being so high in heaven or heavy in a box. My life, B It So Small.

Saturday, May 14, 2022

Chronicle 317 ~B It So Small~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. It’s like saying my penis is small… An outright lie. Sorry for dick jokes or title.

Hell, if I were to write a poetry book for B III or any book period. Words are such little things, Lady Lunalesca. Yeah, that’s another lie, considering how tired they make me. Or I’m weak, whatever. My Lady, I’m late getting up and still sitting in bed this second. Who was it that said this? “You don’t want a girlfriend. You want a therapist who’s good in bed. Is that why I often converse with you and the girls from the bed? It’s inevitable. Lunalesca, of course, you don’t see a (P.Y.T.) Pretty Young Thing, walking out the door. Yes, lay off anything related to my penis. I’m not forgetting about my furry boy again, to be sure. I meant Braxton, and speaking of…

One more reason to miss the little guy. A humongous reason, being able to talk to him, Should I stick with a “happy” medium? I still hate that word too. Things that I miss Lu. Okay, so I miss those walks B, and I would take. Can’t say my health is looking any better for it. Having to stretch out to give him bites of food or find his furry little head to pet every day. He was never more than ten pounds, but are you gonna carry that weight? Always. Better him than anything at the Day Job. That’s something I should remember. The Day Job is one of the medium, middle, motherfucking circles of Hell. Greed, Anger, Hersey. My biggest sin is Treachery.

I know Lady Lunalesca. I finished listening to the Succubus Lord series some time ago. Remind me to yell at Eric Vall about his book deliveries. Braxton’s Aunt’s birthday gift. That’s a big thing, disappointing my friends. Then again, dear Braxton is my best friend. And yet I made every cent such a big deal. There was never any until it came to his end. I didn’t mean to make sadness the gigantic talking point here, but as the song goes. I’m just a sucker for pain. Or, with my ear no longer being the main problem, I can switch back to why I’m sucking up dried cranberries again. Something so small that’s not helping, unlike B III or another furry… B It So Small

468 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 316 ~Silly To B Cryin’~

“Same things make us laugh, make us cry.” How old was I when GTA: San Andreas came out? Way before I had my son. That game didn’t make me do much of either, but B III did. I laugh, I cry. And after 467 Days? Silly To B Cryin’

Friday, May 13, 2022

Chronicle 316 ~Silly To B Cryin’~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I don’t know whether I want to laugh or cry saying that. Both are good.

But you know me. I’m a “man” that likes to know where he stands. Everything has its place. I prefer that mine not be in this bed, but today Thursday, May 5, 2022, so yeah. Sophia, I meant to talk to you yesterday, but I decided to fool myself and crawl right back beneath the sheets. What do I keep saying about, The Comedian? Oh, not political or comedic issues. Aren’t we here to talk about Braxton. A good story about my lost B III. When I want to cry at the Day Job, I think, “my son is dead.” It happens over and over. Only you would believe me silly for crying about my Day Job. Why don’t you quit, like being a Dad?

No, never! Hell! Most people wish I would stop talking about Braxton, like my firstborn. Instead, would they have me talk about my penis; Lady Sophia, it’s like my subject. Seeing how I’m time traveling, I already fucked up my week but this next one? Well, by the time you read this, who knows. But some things never change. The way I feel right now. It’s funny the things that get me off sometimes. You know how I have my most hated words. I should have the words that make me do things… that are so good. Dick jokes to the absolute disgust I have with myself. I meant to take a nap. We’re talking now, so when the time comes… like me, naptime (sigh).

Comedy comes in three’s, THEY say. So we have my dog, the Day Job, and my dick. What else makes me burst into tears. Such silly things, to what I’ve lost forever. Me, Me, ME! Lady Sophia, I cried because I burnt through the last of Succubus Lord stories today. Tears fall every Sunday when I realize that I failed Six Impossible Things again. There are more when I look at my bank account and understand I’m nowhere close. Sophia, fuck being a family man. I look at all the tits, lips, and clits; I’ll never know in this existence. A good story about Braxton? He would make me forget everything, but I’d still cry. Inevitable, but love can be everything. Silly To B Cryin’?

467 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 310 ~The Sorrows To B~

Long ago, I got super heavy into daily motivations. But I no longer imagine things can/will be better. But B taught me that they can’t get worse. Tears, the sweat of my brow, other bodily fluids… Um, I don’t think alcohol could dull, The Sorrows To B

Saturday, May 7, 2022

Chronicle 310 ~The Sorrows To B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, ha-ha. Some of my smaller investments include McDonald’s, Subway, Pizza Hut, Buffalo Wild Wings, Krystal, etc.

I feel like crying, Lady Lunalesca. There was a time when being sad didn’t make me hungry. Much like anger, grief takes a lot out of you. If you’re wondering why I’m talking to you so late, my Lady. Yeah, 6:30 in the morning. It’s quite specfic Lady Luna. Tears. Lying here in bed, it’s like I’m flooding the boat. And then the moment I get up, it’s like an ocean of tears. I’m sure I’ve said before I can’t swim. Yet one way or another, I always make it back to bed. I always say, when it rains, it pours. And I don’t mean in a Luke Combs type of way. Water, water, everywhere, as THEY say. But shopping, some puppies, a shitty lawn.

I feel like sweating? Not today, Lady Lunalesca, but what if I found Braxton today? He could be there, you know, at PetSmart. Hell, was it this week or the last one; I looked up Deer Head Chihuahuas? Fur babies are a lot of work. And considering what I’ve been doing. Today I need to check my schedule, but for now, I’ll do the work of missing my son B III. That means I continue to exist. I would shed tears over him than go into the Day Job and sweat. It’s not only the work but the fear. As always, the humiliations galore, I suffer in that place. How about everyday existence? If I had only gotten up earlier instead of hitting the snooze.

I feel like making love, ha, now that’s a laugh. Only I don’t feel like laughing with everything I continue to do. Why can’t I keep “it” in my fucking pants as I did before? 161 days Lady Lunalesca. This isn’t right at all. But I would choose depression over the disgust that happens the moment after. I’m pathetic and sad, but not enough to know how to stop. Do I want to go back to hiding if I had one more four-legged kid around? Do I want to know the worst pain I have ever had in this existence in what, another 15 years? Why not cry about the Day Job, my dick, and the disgust with my presence? Braxton, The Sorrows To B.

461 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will