Meditation 035 ~Never Tell Me The Odds~

What are the odds I wake up to questions? Where is Braxton? Why isn’t he here? Does he still look after me? Did Virgil make a mess? What’s up with Star Wars and Disney+. Who’s Yabbos are on Instagram that I can look up on X? “Never Tell Me The Odds.”

Monday, August 5, 2024

Meditation 035 ~Never Tell Me The Odds~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… So I’ll ask, but please don’t tell me the odds about Braxton, the Day Job, or Self-Gratification…

What are the odds that I’m still stuck on Sunday, January 31, 2021? That’s when my son, my Braxton, left this world. The weight of this loss is unbearable, and even now, I shouldn’t see more. No more. Everything hurts.

But then came Saturday, August 13, 2022. That’s when I met Virgil. What were the odds I would hear Braxton’s voice saying, “This is black and white, Dad. Save him!”

Indeed, what are the odds that I could live so long before B III found me? And so long after. Madam, E-Day is coming up fast. Forty is too long. The odds of this reality are beyond belief. You see…

But fifteen was not enough. What about eleven? What are the odds that today, Friday, August 2, 2024, I would be in mourning with Braxton’s Aunt? Braxton has a friend.

Gabriel Michael “Gabe” has passed.

B’s Aunt has joined the club… Another parent lost her fur baby, her son, Madam. And what are the odds she wasn’t ready? I wasn’t with the right words, songs of woe, or sage worldly advice. Hell! I thought B would live forever. Or that I would fall before him.

People play with their hearts regarding our four-legged friends or those that swim. Whatever. The odds that we can ever be the same without them… How does zero sound to you, Madam? And what are the odds that we have to keep getting up every single day? I ask why?

What are the odds that I let Braxton down and join him? It’s storming outside. I have my “protection” in the drawer. Trip, Poison, Stupidity…

But the Grim Reaper doesn’t play like that. Not with me, anyway. I’m not a “believer,” but God didn’t save my son. He is keeping me, though, or maybe that’s B III. Come on, dude.

No! I’m the one who plays. Today, I took a twenty-minute nap. I shouldn’t complain, but I’ve been trying to comfort Braxton’s Aunt as she comforted me when Braxton passed. Finding solace in this journey is a constant struggle, Madam.

What about the odds of having fun? Uh? Virgil got into trouble, so I sent him to Braxton’s room, which means I’ve been looking at Olivia Casta, Pawnshop, and anything else. I know, Madam, Eww! Can I keep it in my pants for at least three days? With this existence? What are the odds? Hmm.

Rest In Peace, Gabriel Michael. Be Nice, Braxton Barks, Please.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1282 Days Without B III, Day 723 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 032 ~Virgil WRITES B’s Goodbye~

WE don’t write like I once did with B. He would sleep under the table while I would type away. WE don’t read like I once did with B. I don’t go and lie on the couch and try not to drop my device. And reading about pet loss… Virgil WRITES B’s Goodbye.

Friday, August 2, 2024

Meditation 032 ~Virgil WRITES B’s Goodbye~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Or sing you a song? I would rather go back to sleep. Always. Yesterday was bad.

And I only write bad stories. Sad ones, at least. And so I remember the worst story I ever wrote. A bill for euthanasia, cremation, and my son, my boy Braxton, in a box. It still amazes me I can sweat over days like yesterday. The weather Sophia… Please! Hell?

That’s what I deserve, whether it be from embarrassment, Eros, or, again, B III’s euthanasia.

I’m just a “Sucker for Pain,” It’s what makes me a great $adist. The fact that I understand my ma$ochism. And I trying to fool any censors and the like. Like little Virgil? That’s TMI.

I haven’t had much private playtime. Not with Virgil, “my constant companion,” (rolls eyes) always by my side, even when I’m trying to write.

Even now, he’s lying here while I write a book review:

It Takes The Hardest Goodbye

To do what exactly? Heal? I won’t say I like this book. But who can say they like any book about dog loss? It’s good, needed, necessary, but no one wants to read them. Still, I did to the tune of three stars. I’m still reading things like this, and my fur buddy, my son, has been gone for three years. Titles like this blend together after you read enough of them. But the fact that I took a few quotes, here or there, to heart honestly says a lot. I know a few fur parents, and I could recommend better. But The Hardest Goodbye is a good starter book for anyone taking this long and lonely walk of loss.

Can I say, Sophia, for the record, that I’m absolutely livid with the Kindle App for removing this book from my list? It’s not like anything I’ve written or will. Will ever be seen… like for real. Ever! My works…

Sophia, I’m still working on “Sofía’s Nightmare,” And I “won” with my goal of 15,000 words for Camp NaNoWriMo. But each chapter only gets worse. What’s the last one without:

  1. Houkago Ren’ai Club ~Koi n Etude~ Casual Romance Club
  2. The Blackmail II: The Animation
  3. The V Games
  4. Slaves To Passion Hana Dorei
  5. Olivia Casta
  6. Dakota Skye

And there’s more…

But I should shut up and wonder how I’ll pay for the next crisis. Virgil’s fur is getting around everywhere. It’s like he’s leaving a trail of his presence, and I’m left to clean up after him. There’s always something. Hello! Virgil WRITES B’s Goodbye

1279 Days Without B III, Day 720 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 028 ~Rage Against Plenty Of Things~

Some people only seek out hate. Sadness makes it so I can’t breathe. Lust and Fear, too. Rage? I’m like a carrier of the “rage virus” in 28 Days/Weeks Later. But that only condemns me. And the ashes were once known as B. Rage Against Plenty Of Things

Monday, July 29, 2024

Meditation 028 ~Rage Against Plenty Of Things~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… like choosing my fears over rage. I choose plenty over rage. But that’s the secret, like Bruce.

“I’m Always Angry”
The Avengers

You know one of the many reasons I envy my son? He’s dead. And don’t get me wrong, Madam. You can hate the dead. Speak ill about them and everything. But of everything I remember about my Braxton. I don’t remember the anger. And I was angry at him, sure.

But not once have I been angry about him leaving, as I told Dear Future Wife today. It’s Tuesday, July 23, 2024. Anyway, I told her I was always angry at me, myself and I.

Again, every book on loss is against this. And I’m mad at those writers. But it doesn’t mean I go around burning books like some people. B III’s death is in the hands of two.

But more on that later. What am I mad about today? There’s been Humiliations Galore?

Which is why we’re talking today. Only what has me now this second? Existing, Madam.

Everything is falling apart around me, for starters. There was a storm. So, I need to check on the fence. A light came on in the car, so I must get that checked out. I mistakenly looked up appointments, and they’re already talking about five hundred dollars. No effing way!

That means I can’t risk ordering something. But “no worries,” Madam. I won’t let Virgil starve. And Virgil is as confused as ever, not realizing his business belongs outside only.

It’s not like I’m training him or anything. Locking him behind one of Braxton’s gates.

This brings me back to the one I hold the most rage for… Myself. And there are not enough words or time to explain why I hate myself so much. And joining my Braxton… sigh.

Okay. First is the euthanasia of my son. I blame myself and the other culprit… The Day Job. There was so much rage for and from those people there that I ignored my son. Then?

B III in a box on the nightstand. My rage burned my son to ash. The Hell within me. Rage!

I look in the mirror. Through a camera lens. Even my search history. For example, Pacifica Ocean aka Paz Ortega Andrade. That’s from a few minutes ago. Talk about fire. Rage Against Plenty Of Things

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1275 Days Without B III, Day 716 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 025 ~ B’s Apocalyptic Bills Virgil~

Can you read? That’s an “at sign,” not a zero. Yikes! If the GOP gains control, people who aren’t them won’t have reading or math. Then again, I’m reading more books and losing more money. And women, children, and dogs… “B’s Apocalyptic Bills Virgil”

Friday, July 26, 2024

Meditation 025 ~ B’s Apocalyptic Bills Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… though I would prefer to have a heart attack and join Braxton. Read my car bill…

Well, I couldn’t at first and thought it read $1000.00. And that’s after the worker told me it was only $85.00. Remember to read your contracts, kids. But it was $85.00. Still with my cash… And that’s not all. There was a very yummy piggie potato, vittles, and V’s meds.

Needless to say, I feel like I’ve been through an apocalypse—or rather, a car dealership, two BBQ joints, and the pet hospital. So please excuse my tardiness, Lady Sophia.

Apocalypses in any way, shape, or form are welcome. I only figured I’d be riding it out with Braxton. Instead, most days, I’m outside, finding solace in the pages of Pierce Brown’s Morning Star. It’s my escape, my refuge from the chaos of life. And?

And what? “Waiting On The World To Change?” Virgil to learn bathroom etiquette. Book reviews…

Dystopian Girls Good FOUR What?

Well, for starters, four stars. Throw in a loyal dog, and it would be five-star worthy. And didn’t this one have a few dogs? Ah memories. Like how many wives Mason has. What are all the powers they wield? The battles fought. And victories won for the group. And even with all that, it’s the realism… That’s my favorite part. What does that make me? Hmm? Between every encounter Mason has with Stella. Or any of the other girls in his harem. And then the face-offs. Speaking of being face-to-face, I have “some.” friends… Here or there, I could get in on this series, knowing myself and my stance on the end of the world.

I find such comfort in books, Lady Sophia. Until I’m sitting in a waiting room while the car gets fixed. And I get interrupted. I didn’t even tell you about the humiliations galore I suffered at the front desk. A car dealership, a pet hospital, that time I was in junior college and had written about a girl… What waiting room will I find myself in next? And after what tragedy? Virgil is still very young. And regardless of everything, I won’t be explaining to someone why I can’t keep him. It would be like the end of the world. Isn’t that giving me too much credit? I need something because I’m not making money.

Writing and reading what I do. B’s Apocalyptic Bills Virgil

1272 Days Without B III, Day 713 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 021 ~Money Is A Man’s Makeup~

Phone, Wallet, Keys? But there is money in the wallet. There’s “my” glasses. I look in the mirror, and… that’s uglier than what I put in “my” story. I’d be pretty enough with a dog like Braxton and a good girl. But “Money Is A Man’s Makeup”

Monday, July 22, 2024

Meditation 021 ~Money Is A Man’s Makeup~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… Much like Donald Trump’s face. You’ll have to forgive me. One more week of Trump pics… Eww! But what if I could break the rules that confine me, like the societal norms that dictate my actions, Madam?

If only I could be that much of a grifter. Or if I had thought to use my son, Braxton. I don’t share his and Virgil’s faces to make a buck. I shared Braxton’s pictures because I miss my boy. When it comes to Virgil, it’s so everyone knows that he’s still alive. A miracle?

Madam Justice, all it takes is money, and I had so much of that today, Thursday, July 11, 2024. So if I’m telling you that, by the time you read this, I’m out trying to make a lot more, Madam. And today, between Maxxxine, Moments of “Pleasure” and a Manuscript.

Madam, we’ll get to that. But my son and my boy, Braxton and Virgil. They’re not just my “sons.” They’re the only things that showed that I’m a good person…

But when have I ever cared about that? As I was watching Maxxxine today… Maxine Minx is an adult actress who wants to go mainstream and gets hired for a horror flick. I went in the other direction. I figured I could do poetry. And again, it wasn’t for money. It was to break free from the societal expectations that bind me. Vis-a-vis love, no…

Madam, “What you won’t do, do for love.” I thought to erase my face behind pretty words. Where did that get me? The Dean, the DEA, I’m sure “Beelzebub has a Devil put aside for me.” What I’m trying to say is this. If I got in trouble for words I thought were sweet, why not write the horrors, harems, and horrible desires? I could become the monster everyone sees.

But I could hide, become, and dare I say it? LIVE if I had money! Money is the root of all evil. So, let it grow all around me. My garden of Eden to shield everyone from The Tree of Knowledge. That being what I am. I’m starting to sound like one of those people.

Madam, in the end, we’re all hiding who we are anyway. Anybody with money is only prettying themselves up. But then again, Braxton and Virgil never have a dime, Madam. My boys are handsome. Only yeah, I’m paying their way. With what eighteen bucks? Ha!

The world is so ugly at the moment. Like my new manuscript and the software I got. My Glow-Up? Hmm. Money Is A Man’s Makeup

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1268 Days Without B III, Day 709 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 018 ~Virgil’s B In Satanism~

Well, my greatest sin isn’t here. Do I really believe that? Well, I’m back to telling myself stories about demon women to sleep. Uh, I could pass out now. But Sloth beats Lust and Envy. And can be forgiven. Braxton being gone… Virgil’s B In Satanism.

Friday, July 19, 2024

Meditation 018 ~Virgil’s B In Satanism~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… About my son, Braxton Barks. He’s part of my routine. There’s also Satan’s Sorority Girls 6, a book I finished reading some time last week. Witchy Yabbos

Do you know that song by the Transplants, ‘Diamonds and Guns?’ It’s a bit like my current existence, a chaotic mix of beauty and mourning. I’m more of a ‘Yabbos and Boys” type of creature, but lately, I feel like a Satanic entity. It’s like I’m heading to Hell. Without a doubt, Lady Sophia.

For what I did to my Braxton? Ignoring him, not listening, and his euthanasia… Sophia. I didn’t mean to get so down right then. But yesterday was a waste. I’m still reading ‘The Hardest Goodbye.’ And I’m so tired. I swear I am fighting off sleep when there is so much to do. Is it any wonder that most of the things I’ve been into this week revolve around death? There’s this movie I want to see, ‘Plan 75,’ a film that explores the complexities of life and death. I made a playlist from the ‘Twilight’ movies, which resonated with me in their portrayal of love and loss. Now Satanism because you know book reviews:

That’s Our “GRAY” Friend Sisters:

Another four-star winner, at least according to this sinner. Then again, nobody’s perfect. Well… Except for Grayson Price, according to his coven and the other. Is Grayson adding to the belt? The book’s greatest strength and weakness is in the following word: formulaic. You read enough Eric Vall books, and you see. Not that I’m an expert. This and Succubus Lord. But there’s reason the three scenes that stand out to me are Fiona and Gray, Robin’s shower scene, and Grayson getting both Julia and Tasha together. Mo getting a girl? I’ve already recommended Eric Vall’s works to one friend. And seeing how she’s into girls too… But one should be into comics. And not looking for twists and turns.

Ok, if I’m done talking about other writers… What about my writing? I did write over 200 words for “Sofía’s Nightmare.” I’m still working on a title. And that could be the thing, Sophia. I’m looking up monsters and all the world’s evils to avoid what I see in the mirror every day. Braxton is my greatest sadness. And being the hand that ended him. Well, that makes him my greatest crime. And I become the villain, the monster, or whatever. If I left this world, I have no doubt Braxton would follow me into the dark. Ok! Enough music.

What about Virgil? He’s back behind the gate as I lament about Braxton. My other sins are Lust, Sloth, and Envy. Virgil’s B In Satanism.

1265 Days Without B III, Day 706 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 014 ~Just Kidding Is No Excuse~

What are SOME of the worst sounds in the world? My son’s last breath. The silence when his heart stopped beating, and I came back alone. My breathing, realizing I’m alive. The alarm clock. Laughter! And then, “Just Kidding.” Just Kidding Is No Excuse

Monday, July 15 2024

Meditation 014 ~Just Kidding Is No Excuse~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… and jokes are meant to be funny. How I wish it were true; a comedian died today.

Better myself than my son. And people might think it’s funny to die for my son Braxton or to kill for him. I am/was his daddy. That’s my job, and I failed Madam. No doubt.

Braxton’s absence is a reality I wish I could turn into a joke. I wish I could jest that I’m the biggest bully and that his return is imminent. But it’s not a joke. Braxton is gone. And with him, the laughter and joy he brought. I would give anything for him to return and reclaim his place, even if it meant Virgil had to leave. Braxton might reconsider… It’s a cruel joke, this reality.

That’s what I called it when I heard Braxton’s voice tell me to save Virgil’s life. Virgil must think his life is a joke, and soon, he’ll have a better human rescue him. Poor Virgil.

When I’m not telling Virgil, No, no, no, no, no, no, no! I’m asking him if he is kidding. I take him outside four times a day. We’re out there for twenty minutes. Only for him to decide to “go” in the house. And every time I lay down… I swear, Madam. Braxton would cuddle close to ensure I was safe and then take his post on the corner of the bed to protect me. I know Virgil is not Braxton reborn because Virgil jumps off the bed and leaves.

The demands of my Day Job are like a joke, forcing me to bend to its will. I look at my schedule for this week and the next, and I wonder, where’s my relief? That’s why I’m reaching out now.

Time may be on my side, but the reality is that I’m in a desperate financial situation. I’m left with no choice but to plead for more work hours. It’s not a joke, Madam. I need money if Virgil and I are to have a meal after today, Wednesday, July 10, 2024. And to earn it, I should write, which also requires some financial investment.

Well, if that website I found is any indication. I could even attend Camp NaNoWriMo.

Now, that’s the biggest joke of all. My existence. Every morning, I wake up Madam telling myself I’m going to Live Brave, Do Better, Be A Man. The Man in the Mirror is a bully!

And I’m just kidding when I fail, like today or Monday. But no, Dear Madam, Just Kidding Is No Excuse.

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1261 Days Without B III, Day 702 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 011 ~Braxton, Virgil’s A Tattletale~

Do you know how a story is pretty good and then… Wham! Let’s just say the author makes it not that way. B’s life story was written by me. My existence is written by my old man, etc. And here’s V reviewing my madness. “Braxton, Virgil’s A Tattletale.”

Friday, July 12, 2024

Meditation 011 ~Braxton, Virgil’s A Tattletale~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Must I? It’s always the same, my son, something sinful or sad. All the above? I’m lost in this maze of emotions, Sophia, and I need your “light” to guide me.

“I’ve tried to find the key to fifty million fables…” When the answer’s always been my son, Braxton. And he’s not here to tell me anything. Is that why he sent Virgil to me? Ha!

I can’t blame Braxton. I always said that Braxton was my emotional support. I wanted to get him a little vest and everything. But fifteen years was too much for him. I was planning my trip to Heaven when I was younger than him. And now Braxton is pleading my case before God… or whatever. And Virgil, I’m sure, is reporting all my new sins.

Coincidences. Like after yesterday seeing Maxxxine, and I’m speaking about God. Or watching Twilight: Eclipse and thinking on August 13. And here’s another book review:

Twelve In The Backyard Dungeon:

Don’t mind me for thinking something dirty… But Eddie has seven wives and wants to add another notch to the belt. And I’m giving Backyard Dungeon 12, 4 Stars. As with the others, it’s full of warfare, women, and some weirdness. Only at times, it is wickedly complicated. There are so many characters and locations, so the world is whole. My favorite part, besides the women, is the idea of family. From Eddie finding out about… SPOILER, Twins! And having to deal with his parents and his beautiful blue son. Yet, I wouldn’t recommend this to anyone I know. And I’m deeply, irrevocably caught up in the story. It’s too late for me to look away. But I don’t particularly like Eddie. Something about him…

Now that I’m done with that, what would Virgil tell my firstborn son? Daddy’s crazy?

Again, I was at the movies yesterday, and I was thinking about all the religious cult shenanigans in Maxxine. And I questioned what I believe in. For example, atheism vs agnosticism. I would say I don’t believe in God, but that’s because Braxton died, Sophia. And I’ll never believe that a soul like my Braxton would vanish into nothingness, ever. My beliefs are shaken, Sophia, and I struggle to find my footing. So, another day…

What about August 13? That is V’s “Gotcha Day.” But it’s when Edward married Bella.

Even Backyard Dungeon 12. Eddie Hill is expecting twin sons. One he’s naming Virgil. I believe in aliens to zombies. I believe I can write a novel. From M Anime’s Nightmare? Braxton, Virgil’s A Tattletale

1258 Days Without B III, Day 699 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 007 ~Allowed To Hate Your Birthday~

I’m sure I’ll regret writing this about E-Day. I regret waking up today. And I can hear all my motivations talk about gratitude. 39 years? Well, Braxton was here for fifteen. And his loss trumps E-Day by a mile? But… Allowed To Hate Your Birthday

Monday, July 8, 2024

Meditation 007 ~Allowed To Hate Your Birthday~

Three-Hundredth And Fifty-First Rule

Madam Justice
Rules are made to be broken… But not this one. No! Never! I’m approaching FORTY! What a world? Waste? Why? But not today!

Madam, today isn’t even today. It’s Thursday, June 27, 2024. Will I ever stop lying? Madam, my Existence ended on Sunday, January 31, 2021. That’s the day I “joined my son.” Braxton passed away in his bed at the vet’s. Here I go, crying again. But I rather have the pain of my son’s life ending. Than that of my Existence beginning. So am I saying I’ll take the greater pain? In dog years… yes. That entire week was bad. But it’s not like this week has been any better. But again, I’ll always start with Braxton. He deserves it.

Madam, I remember the day I got my son back… in a box. Uh! And what about my Braxton’s birthday? February 13? A made-up day…

Like, I wish the word “birthday” was only made up? I swear! I have a list of words that don’t mean anything to me. Happy, Home, Birthday… I’m telling you I’m going to quit saying that regarding me. For me, it’s E-Day. Emergence, Existence, and if I ever get lucky…

Extinction. But we’ll get to that. Emergence is what matters. But no, I’m not one of those political types. Yes, I have views. But allow me to be selfish and think only about myself. AHEM…

Madam, I HATE EMERGENCE DAY!

Twenty-one years with nothing to show. Fifteen more? Well, I was Braxton’s Dad, for sure. And how did that turn out for him? And every other day, Madam. Inevitable, Imaginable.

I watched Braxton die! Unimaginable.

Please, King Kong, ain’t got nothing on me or my son. But still, I shut my eyes because tomorrow… What about today? I’m talking to you now because of the horrors this day will bring. It’s hard existing through that. Instead of embracing oncoming horrors…

Madam, I dwell on the worst moments. I survived my son’s loss and my becoming. Whatever doesn’t finish you makes you stronger. But I’m not, Madam. There isn’t a day that passes that I don’t think about joining my boy. However, now I have Virgil.

Everyone calls it Gotcha Day, and that’s coming up soon. The only thing that would change about “my” rule would be to name Braxton’s loss the most hated day ever.

Allowed To Hate Your Birthday

“A Man Chooses, A Slave Obeys” ― Andrew Ryan, Bioshock

1254 Days Without B III, Day 695 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 004 ~We’ll B Shopping, Virgil~

“Attention all shoppers…, Attention all shoppers,” my boy has passed. Well, he did three years ago. You should go buy Attention, Shoppers by Blair Daniels. It’s a great read. And I could use the Bluemart incident to shop. “We’ll B Shopping, Virgil”

Friday, July 5, 2024

Meditation 004 ~We’ll B Shopping, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… And no, it isn’t about buying a new book. I’m feeling the weight of financial constraints, Sophia. I don’t have money for fun frolicking or effing.

So, another story about Braxton, then? Like how he had the good sense to go to his room when he felt the “spirit.” Virgil doesn’t share that sentiment even after 692 days. So the gate is up, and he’s been sleeping outside the bedroom since Wednesday, July 3, 2024. Ha!

I know that’s not funny. If I had the money, I would buy some books on pet training… And didn’t I say I should stop reading books on pet loss? Uh, child loss… It’s been a struggle, Sophia. Nothing new.

After reading about fur buddies, I returned to a HaremLit series. It’s Dystopian Girls 4. Again, I need more cash. The need is becoming more urgent, Sophia. And why’s that?

I’ve been writing and then whacking. Oh, and book reviews:

Attention, Shoppers, Buy This Now

I’ve never given Walmart five stars. But Attention, Shoppers by Blair Daniels deserves them all. That’s including the Bluemart employees. The story could have added on to them, but still… For being short, this book had everything… Yeah, just like a Walmart. Only I wanted to be in this story. Did I really say that and mean it? Yep! My favorite part was the realism of it all. I may ignore most conspiracy theories. But having worked retail, don’t tell me something like this couldn’t ever happen. And the people. Speaking of which. I know plenty of people who could get into this. It even inspired me in my writing. Though I’m more S. Wolf meets Stephen King. Attention, Shoppers…

This is the stuff dreams and nightmares are made of.

That’s one more book review down. If only I had written it sooner, Lady Sophia. But another drawback of keeping Virgil out has been that I have been all alone. Well, what about Braxton’s ghost, spirit, or whatever? And it doesn’t help that I’m listening to Satan’s Sorority Girls 3, an audiobook about The Resurrection of Christina Fry. I need to get the fourth book, but I need more cash.

So this morning, I’m up and moaning as I continue writing about M Anime’s nightmare. A raunchy, revealing romp with her. Another three hundred words. But I’m not participating in Camp NaNoWriMo this month. And even if I was, I have to go shopping today… With what money? I’m reading zero. We’ll B Shopping, Virgil

1251 Days Without B III, Day 692 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will