Tag: Memory

Tale 181 ~V’s Story, B Actors~

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This existence is filmed in front of a live studio audience. Though I’m not a Nikki Haley, I should be canceled. But somebody has to tell B III’s story. And Virgil’s not pretending to be him. And who the Hell am I supposed to be? V’s Story, B Actors.

Friday, December 29, 2023

Tale 181 ~V’s Story, B Actors~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Will I be playing the part of a writer? I can pretend to be a man…

I don’t know what I am now in the story, this existence, and/or the journey as I tell everyone. As if I’m still in school. Lady Sophia, I’m here. Present! I’m still breathing. And I’m trying not to burst into Sia’s “Alive.” Otherwise, how will I hear the workers in the house? It’s not mine, of course, but The Olds. Thirty-nine-years-old, playing the part. Sophia, I wish someone would give me a damn script so I could know what comes next for Virgil and me. And what about Braxton? Would I forget my little B III? No, not ever. Talk about how to play the part. Except he wasn’t. No, not at all. It gets me thinking about that Will Smith movie, Lady Sophia. Sigh…

“Collateral Beauty.” No, I won’t give a review of it today. But two things, for the record. I didn’t like it, but you will never hear me speak ill of Will. Seriously, Lady Sophia. Um, “Big Willie Style?” I was still in school. And talk about musical longevity. Pop Culture. This reminds me that I won’t finish the Kindle Challenge by the end of the year. You know, with my Christmas Erotica tradition. For some reason, I want to do a REAL review for “His Christmas Harem: The Complete Series” by Manus Dare. And I owe you one for “Wanna Scrooge” by L. Nicole. Ah! To pretend my voice on anything matters. Uh, B, V? They didn’t pretend to love me. As for myself. Critic…

“Wanna Scrooge” Rather Than Scrooged

The answer is yes. However, this was quick, even for a novella. But I can’t complain about that. What I will complain about is the whole… SPOILER ALERT: the would be farmhand is a rich man, “Ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum.” Anyway, Drew and Holly were excellent. And it’s been a while since seeing something with a gigolo angle. Drew’s isn’t. It’s not my first dive into A Flirty Dirty Christmas series. But it’s a welcome addition. If you’re into cowboys and wealthy men and want to F the Law at Christmas time. Try this book.

I wish I could behave more positively in my existence. Fake it till you make it, right? The End? There’s V. V’s Story, B Actors

1062 Days Without B III, Day 503 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

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Merry Christmas? And we’re celebrating? Someone born to save us. And as for myself… The gift of noise to the neighbors with the fans running? “Kibble” for Virgil. And turning on a light, ah, my Olds. Pain’s my gift. Hurts When You Hurt Somebody.

Monday, December 25, 2023

Tale 177 ~Hurts When You Hurt Somebody~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Third Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like the one saying Happy Holidays over Merry Christmas. Or whatever, sigh. Oh, and Merry Christmas, Madam.

“It’s how I was raised; the OGs had me.” Or more like my Olds, right? What? Did you think Virgil and I would be listening to Christmas music today? Hell! At this very moment, it’s Saturday, December 23, 2023. Fortunately, I haven’t “hurt” any person… Humanity… But I love my Braxton and, like Virgil, more than most people. And you always hurt the (ones) you love/like. And that’s what I’m pondering on Christmas Day, Madam.

Again, it’s the 23rd, and what have I done for 2V now? Oh yeah, food, water, outside time, and I don’t know how long that’ll last. Look at the floor, dear Madam. There’s no money.

The 25th? There are no presents. No special meal. How about an I love you?

At least I can’t hurt Braxton with that anymore. The last time I’m sure he heard me say that was on Sunday, January 31, 2021. Now, that’s a day worth remembering. No matter how much it hurts, Madam. Again, on the 23rd and 25th of December, what a waste, Madam.

A waste that started all the way back on E-Day. Who knows? By the time you see this, Madam. The Grim Reaper instead of Santa could have visited me. But Santa could always bring Hemlock instead of Mistletoe. Medicated for your protection, indeed, I wish

Because with everyone that I’ve hurt on the daily… Hell! With me sitting here powering God knows what devices. All those fans were blaring downstairs for what? One day’s silence?

I should have been on Saturday, August 13, 2021. That would have given V a chance at a better life. They say that euthanasia is the last gift of love. But I’ve never believed that with B III. So rescue is the first gift of love. I don’t believe that with V. No, that was commendation. A sign should be over the door: “Abandon all hope ye who enter here.”

The entrance to Hell, right? All Halloweeny or close. With Virgil’s birthday being October 20, 2020. One way he’s a better man/male than me. Virgil values his life on Christmas.

And he’s not hurting anyone. The source of my pain, knowing that I do. And, like the fans, how do I stop it? I could celebrate Christmas and Easter… God, how many holidays can pass the buck to someone else? Or kick the can down the road. Madam, there are rules. Example? Rule 15: I Take My Own Lumps. But I can’t, Madam. The floor, fans, and family. What about Braxton’s Aunt and “my” friends? Again, if I just lay here, somebody is left in pain because of me. And that’s every day. “They” talk about being born black is wrong, Madam. Being born ME is wrong. “And it hurts like Hell.” The day I want? The day it doesn’t. But not today. Every Day Hurts When You Hurt Somebody

1058 Days Without B III, Day 499 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 174 ~Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents~

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There are a lot of stories, but I don’t want to read any of mine. Hell! My Christmas story. Santa’s not a sorcerer… a necromancer? He’s still alive. But do I want a twist in “my” story like a Netflix or Hulu show? Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents.

Friday, December 22, 2023

Tale 174 ~Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… “This is the story of how I died.” No, this isn’t the movie Tangled, but really….

Braxton, do you need a roommate? “Only God Knows Why,” I was asking that, Sophia. Well, that’s a lie. I’ve been talking about it for the past week… I don’t even remember how long it’s been. 1055 Days? Of course, those are days without my son. I should still follow him. Why? The floor downstairs is a death trap. The flood, fellas, and my “father.” (Screams)! My boy’s still gone. That’s never going to change, Sophia. Does Santa know Necromancy? And let’s not forget all the “Humiliations Galore.” Um, the Day Job, PetSmart, the house.

Have I ever told you this isn’t my house? Not my HOME! But for my little boy, my B III.

There’s no lights, no Christmas tree, or holiday spirit? Virgil?

I’m sure he’s barking at something. But it couldn’t be to stop Santa from breaking into the house. Does he want to go Christmas shopping with Braxton and me? Simoleons? Don’t I still pay for streaming services and salacious books set during the holidays, dear S? I don’t have money or much time, and every day is spent trying to shuffle off the mortal coil. But I woke up. So, at least for one more day, I won’t give my Olds what they want most… Braxton sits in a box under a lamp. Me in a box beneath their tree. Sophia, I expect far too much of Santa. Hell! Son numero dos? And a sinner like me because there’s no book review today. Sorry Manus

His Christmas Harem by Manus Dare, to be specific. I’ve been getting into movies and TV shows being recapped on YouTube. Are they sent from Braxton to keep me here?

Anyway, I saw “The Mill” on Hulu a day or so ago. If that ain’t the story of this existence. Except for having a pregnant wife, I have two dogs. And with those dudes, the Day Job, and my Dad, even now I want to scream out Sophia, I QUIT!

But then what about black guys and cute brunettes… or girls with dark hair? “15,000,000 Merits” got my attention. No, it ain’t porn… Wraith Babes…

The Platform? I still have to watch it all, though.

Stay alive watching, reading… Not ruining Braxton’s Future, Virgil’s Presents.

1055 Days Without B III, Day 496 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

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Motivational speakers talk about those with excuses. Why aren’t I at the table? They had to pull the floor up. Why aren’t I writing? I have a freaking Day Job. Why am I in bed? I’m tired, and B III’s gone. But Tomorrow… The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

Monday, December 18, 2023

Tale 170 ~The Truest Sentence, An Excuse~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-Second Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. I can sum it up in one word. Tomorrow… Two? No Fear! And Three?

“I love you” was my favorite… as the song goes. All nothing but excuses, falsehoods. Today is Saturday, December 16, 2023. How about why I’m writing to you right now? Hell! I told Braxton all the time that this would lead to a future. So where is it? Why hasn’t it happened? What’s the excuse? I’m no good for Virgil, and I wouldn’t dare use him as a prop, a scapegoat, or an excuse. Indeed, I have another one-word answer for you, dear Madam. Laziness. How about Lazy-Ass? I can keep going. (Opens a dictionary).

  1. Braxton
  2. Disgusted
  3. Masturbation
  4. Sleep
  5. Sick
  6. Money

These are in no particular order. But I’ll say, AHEM, “Sleep is for those people who are broke.”

Do you want evidence that I’m healing over losing my son? Not accepting! Oh no, Madam! Braxton died 1051 days ago, and I’m still counting. But when I wake up every morning and cut off the alarm, do you know what I think? It’s not “Braxton isn’t here anymore.” I say, “I’m tired and should try this ‘Big Sleep’ thing again.” I mean, either way, “Make Me Wanna Die.” Only it’s more I’m sick of existence rather than Braxton’s gone

Don’t get me wrong. The day Braxton died is still worse than the day I was born. B is ahead of E-Day, as it should be. Ohh! “What’s really going to bake your noodle later on is my excuse for waking up.” Do you know?

That makes two of us without a clue. I can tell you why I feel disgusted with myself right now, Madam. Eden McCoy… I am going to Hell. Instagram, GH. I woke up and… TMI! What’s my excuse for it, though? I’m sure I told Lady Lunalesca about stressing out. Madam, every single word has me that way. Hell! Even the meaning of life. Whatever…

“Seek out a kingdom worthy of your soul.” Madam, why aren’t I? Braxton’s still dead. Getting any deader seems unlikely. A zombie apocalypse? The end of the world, uh huh.

“My future is coming on.” But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Let my will be done tomorrow. That is my excuse. Dying? I’ll FAIL Today and Tomorrow. The Truest Sentence, An Excuse

1051 Days Without B III, Day 492 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 167 ~ Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton~

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When out of audiobooks, I should really make a playlist for the road. I did have a “happy…” um, a feel-good playlist. And how do I feel now, listening to the same stories, reading Christmas Lit? All V ever hears is Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton.

Friday, December 15, 2023

Tale 167 ~ Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Or should I sing you a song? I’m sure Virgil Vivi is singing loud and proud.

Or pathetic? At this rate, I might have to claim him as a child. Not my child! Not my son! That title will always be B III. But who knows since it’s Sunday, December 10, 2023. Anyway, what song is Virgil singing, you ask? “When Will My Life Begin?” Talk about turning the page. Braxton’s still on that pedestal I placed him on by way of the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, or wherever. Braxton must be as sick of me in death as he was in life. And while I can give every day we spent together some significance… the holidays talk about a war on Christmas. Hell! I have a war on Thursday, December 14, 2023, which it is now. And on tomorrow… today… whatever!

I swear! The last books I read on time travel were from the Theta Timeline series by Chris Dietzel. That’s what I’ve been thinking about today. Not the series but TIME. I don’t mean the magazine either. Or should I get all political today? U.S.A.’s in trouble…

There’s also por… I mean, men’s entertainment magazines? And as I told B III today. There was the Satan’s Sorority Girls 2 audiobook I should buy. That takes money, ha-ha. I also finished On the Boss’s Naughty List on Thursday. So, a book review is incoming, too. Only what about “my” stories? The things that come up while sitting in a parking lot. Looking back at the past, dare I say there’s more than Braxton? He saved me. Is there anything else? Review?

Boss’s Naughty List Is Nice

I should say more than nice, considering I gave another Ella Goode title, “Christmas Stalking,” four stars. But this one got five, and that’s saying a lot. I was never one for “billionaire” stories… just my preference. But this story was dirty, kinky, and (drools). Again, you never see the villain get theirs. Is that a spoiler? But who reads these holiday bedroom romps for that? And who said anything about a bedroom? It’s Con and Willow in the office. A wonderful Christmas time indeed. And a wicked Christmas read. A naughty bit of prose.

That’s something I couldn’t share with my son. But it’s as positive as I get these days, Sophia. A page-turner? Hmm? Virgil’s Favorite Page Braxton

1048 Days Without B III, Day 489 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 163 ~The End Embodies MY WILL~

WillLeave a comment

What does it take to have the will not to sleep? There was Braxton’s sickness. Then I found out he was dying. A bit of bucks from the Day Job. And then bouncing along in bed doing… other, never mind. And in the end, who am I. The End Embodies MY WILL

Monday, December 11, 2023

Tale 163 ~The End Embodies MY WILL~

Three-Hundredth And Twenty-First Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Like the one I made, that said, “My son will never die.” Unwritten, right? Considering Rule 321.

I would make it either Rule 1 or 366. Hell! I fear a whole lot, but for Braxton. His courage. I should pray for that more than the other stuff. But didn’t I say God, and I haven’t been speaking lots? So, um, 1044 days and counting. Because, in the end, it doesn’t even matter. He’s still dead. And what was I willing to do to save him? I’d give anything. Or at least that’s what I want to say. But what do I do in the end? Why am I late talking to you? Madam, I’m time-traveling, but it’s past 3:30 PM this Saturday, December 9, 2023. Madam, I didn’t even nap today, and all for what? What does the end goal look like, Madam? Please don’t say girls.

“You exist to continue your existence. What’s the point?” Equilibrium

As I see the end. It’s me closing my eyes and hoping I’ll never have to open them. Never again. It’s like I’m always ready for a funeral… my own. “Hell is for those who don’t know they’re dead.” So, for all I know, I may have “done it.” Hmm… well, being here now. If the end is life. Which I have been thinking about plenty with that lady in Texas, Kate Cox. The life and death being forced upon her. I keep saying, Madam, I want a family, but I don’t force women into anything. No! All the lives I could have made are in tissues, tears in the bed sheets, and these two hands. I hear you. Gross!

But do you know what’s worse? You guessed it, breaking the rule and knowing that Braxton was going to die before me. And I did think about it long before it happened on that Sunday, January 31, 2021. And it was by my will that brought about my son’s end. So how does this (motions to myself) all end? And why don’t I feel my will has anything to do with it. If you want the short answer, money. People telling you differently are lying. You can’t see the end if you don’t know where to start. That’s why Braxton fought so hard to live. How do you begin saving me? V has no answers. My will be done indeed. The End Embodies MY WILL.

1044 Days Without B III, Day 485 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 160 ~ V’s Tailing Stories Braxton~

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If V were to tell stories about his life here… “It could be worse.” He’s not on a chain outside. He lays on the bed or his pillow, sleeping. While I lay on the couch reading. He sleeps. No tail wagging is required, sadly. V’s Tailing Stories Braxton.

Friday, December 8, 2023

Tale 160 ~ V’s Tailing Stories Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,

Let ME tell you a story… If anything, I should be telling you a few tales. But I’m always so far behind.

“I’ll be a good boy. I’ll be a good boy, I promise.” Or at least that’s what I’m telling the critic today (fingers crossed). But the only opinion that should matter to me is Braxton’s. And his story is the one that I keep rereading. Well, that and two series from Eric Vall so far. Only I’m not here to talk about him today. Though I’m doing a book review. Inevitably, it always comes back to Braxton and/or Virgil. And that’s what’s bothering me today. What? Cleaning up after a smelly three-year-old? And here I am, still wanting a family. I wish I could tell you that kind of story. But Braxton’s tail’s not wagging. Yesterday, the day before, longer. Virgil’s tail doesn’t wag either.

Is it even something I’m looking forward to? I swear, Lady Sophia, it seems the universe is doing everything to convince me to stay. Didn’t I mention another Kindle Challenge? Now, that’s the story of this existence. Another failure as I read “His Christmas Harem.” Eric Vall has another audiobook coming out. If the word “Harem” hasn’t scared the critic.

The Last of Us has its next season in 2025, meaning I should play The Last of Us Part II. Lady Sophia, I haven’t turned on the PlayStation since the nephew was here. I’m cool. It’s cool enough to play Grand Theft Auto VI. But again, that’s in 2025. “Love Is A Long Road.” And I still have trouble walking that one long PetSmart aisle.

Talking About A Christmas Stalking:

So Ella Goode. Good tidings she brings, good girl and villain. Though you can see the villain ten miles down the road. But I won’t spoil it for you. It’s not like anyone is reading this for truly bad vibes. This is probably my only beef with this story. It is well written, delightfully dirty, a desirable find, an almost disaster but with a HEA. Of course. Only the feeling… Yes, it’s a fine read. And I like Jackson and Bell, but the “togetherness” left me with an… okay. So, would I read it again? Sure. Another? Okay. Easy-peasy Four-Stars

Anyway. I’m not looking for the “Man with the Bag.” Braxton’s not in it. Something to get me off my behind… V’s Tailing Stories Braxton

1041 Days Without B III, Day 482 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

WillLeave a comment

For the past few weeks… Hell! Why not just say, 1037 days and counting? I’ve been losing. When it comes to the whole Victory or Death bit. One is definitely closer than the other. But what if… Happily ever after? Ha-Ha! But… Have Plans After The Win

Monday, December 4, 2023

Tale 156 ~Have Plans After The Win~

Three-Hundredth And Twentieth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… Especially this one. Does it look like I’m winning to you? Being with my boy, that’s winning.

And dying? As the song goes, “Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody wants to die.” (Raises my hand). Hell! Don’t mind if I do, as it beats this place by a mile, Madam. Today at the Day Job, that’s Sunday, December 3, 2023, to be specific. I was thinking, instead of saying, “I’m Here.” I should start saying, “I’m one step closer to my boy.” I wonder, would Braxton consider seeing his Old Man again a win? I looked in the mirror. And I heard the things that came out of my mouth. And as far as my Old Man… I woke up today and this Monday saying, “Soy un perdedor. I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me.” But Virgil?

Talk about taking the L. Of all the people that could have adopted him, he got me. Notice I said adopted. Hell! So was/is Braxton. But I call him my firstborn, my pancake. Because he couldn’t have been more mine if I had “poured the Bisquick. My Braxton, the winner. And with everything going on with the house, I can’t imagine giving some girl the D ha-ha. Yeah, even if I paid for it. And what if it were more than that? Eight years, Madam. That’s how long I’ve been here, and I’ve had no idea what to do: Dad, Hubby, a man in general. No matter what I do, I have plans to get effed… Isn’t that what happened? I just did it myself.

But what if, hmm? I’ve been hearing that a lot. What if or Destinies and the like? To win, ok. There’s a reason I’ve been heavy into HaremLit in my reading. Hell! In my writing. Please! Madam, if I did any of that for real, well… I do want to be a writer. That’s winning. Besides that, I want to be like Dennis Hof. Again, um, dead? But while he was alive, I swear. Next to all those Softcore “films” I was watching, Cathouse was everything, I swear, Madam. Can you imagine me in charge of anything? This house, “my” daily humiliations, and some ho, ho, ho’s. And then there’s a studio like PureTaboo. Live forever and conquer all. Winning! Have Plans After The Win

Tale 153 ~Virgil Comes First, Braxton~

WillLeave a comment

So last week… do I hate every day? Not those in books. So, I read more than I write. And no more grieving books. Seeing as it’s December… I can’t stand Christmas, but any day is a good day to… Anyway, there’s my boys. Virgil Comes First, Braxton

Friday, December 1, 2023

Tale 153 ~Virgil Comes First, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… (Thinks on it a second). I should write a book on Time Travel. Sunday, November 26

That’s as likely as me living up to the title of this. Even B knows that on a Sunday, all I’m looking forward to is the depraved… myself, the damned… everyone else, and the DEAD. But there’s no Walking Dead tonight. And shouldn’t we focus on the Friday that does not yet exist? Hell! You know why we’re talking today. Friday will be horrible. How many days do I say I will be positive about anything? Then existence… Knowledge? I can’t tell you anything about “Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss.” I hope I finish Thursday so I can start… What, celebrating? Ah, to indulge in Christmas Erotica. And what about writing a book? NaNoWriMo? Too Late.

I swear the days I have to remember. And NaNoWriMo is over now. That’s the least of my problems now. Am I reading some bill from my father, or am I reading the room period? Everything there is to read on the Internet, and I’m still so effing STUPID. Christmas? Could Santa bring me some positivity? Better yet, I would take some cash. A boat? Another day. I continue to bring up the flooding on the floor. And “Here I Am” at thirty-nine, needing my father to save me. Braxton was fifteen, and he wanted his daddy to save him. No! At the end of the day, he wanted my love. What would Virgil know about that? But books? I know about Backyard Dungeon 4:

Edging FORward Into Backyard Dungeon
I’m surprised I didn’t fall, being on the edge of my seat the entire time. A great man once talked about kids, animals, and women with attitudes, and I was worried about them all. Whether it is Ibseth awaiting her ever-growing family’s return. SPOILER… there are doggies. And the danger of both worlds coming for Eddie. Plus, there is a distinct lack of “Nictors.” They were there, but that word has never seemed right with me ever… But, like the previous three books, shooting, sex, and more simoleons for Eddie’s growing empire. I can’t wait to read the next one.

That was a book review, Lady Sophia. Something else to read besides how life, uh, existence is terrible. But reading anything. Virgil Comes First, Braxton

1034 Days Without B III, Day 475 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

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One of the worst things about being lazy. It’s sitting here being lazy, knowing I’m lazy. Yet I work… ha-ha. So I can afford to be lazy. Then I say I want a beautiful wife, a bunch of kids, businesses, Braxton. I’d be a king? Best Seat Is The Throne.

Monday, November 27, 2023

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

Three-Hundredth And Nineteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But I’m here, aren’t I? Sitting in anxiety, anguish, antsy as all Hell. An A for alliteration?

Maybe then I wouldn’t be sitting on my butt in the middle of the bed if I made more A’s. My father would have beat me more if I had flunked out of Summer School. But there’s Times Like These… What? Thanksgiving or Monday? I wish he’d done the “deed.” Inevitably, I want to be with Braxton. It’s funny how my son was always looking for comfy spots. We both agreed on Yabbos. But then again, he ended up in Heaven, The Rainbow Bridge, or wherever. And I would choose his fur over any girl. No melons are that nice. And yet I sit here at the Dining Room table where I told him one day it’d be worth it. His pillow, bed, my lap

Now I sit alone in the car. But no, I don’t feel “safest of all.” Braxton hated car rides. Once again, my Little B was right about something. Have I ever felt comfortable driving? I know the longest drive was to B’s aunt’s wedding. And renewing my driver’s license… With all of that, where else do I go? I can sit for a few minutes at the Day Job. And hate the whole damn world. That’s why we’re talking Thanksgiving Day. Because as I sit in fear there. I’ll have to rise to get the door for a Thanksgiving meal today: the horror, the horror. Madam, I’m sure the food is good, but it’s the fact I rise at all. I’m like The Walking Dead.

And there was a time I thought if “God Gave Me Everything I Want,” I’d be in a beach chair talking to you. I could look out and see my children playing in the sand. My wife would be beside me or with the kids. Braxton would be in his little chair, getting too old. Only right this second, I want to be in bed. Madam, I mean a king-size mattress. And may I have an understanding wife with the businesses I want to run? Back, butt, beneath me.

Wheeler Walker Jr. sang, “I don’t need no air.” Women can lead you to the grave, sigh. I could be The Succubus Lord taking Hell’s throne. But the Sword of Damocles? Best Seat Is The Throne

1030 Days Without B III, Day 471 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will