Tag: Money

Tale 126 ~A Do B Virgil~

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“We gonna get you high.” Was Cypress Hill in my dream or an angel reminding me of how I felt when Braxton was here? Was it the new toys in the mail? The thought of some young lady. For once, I wasn’t just getting up. So, not a work day? A Do B Virgil

Saturday, November 4, 2023

Tale 126 ~A Do B Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… Hell! If I Had A Million Dollars… But no, Lady Lunalesca, I’m just… I don’t know.

I’m up at 4:00 AM, well, 5:45 AM now. Could it be the endorphins, serotonin? Dopamine before the start of a horrible week? As Marvin Gaye sang “Sexual Healing.” The things you learn while looking up a nurse… Eri Harada. Just don’t look, Lunalesca. That’s what I tell myself when the alarm clock’s blaring when I’m bored or missing Braxton. I’m beginning to understand those people in the movie “Don’t Look Up.” Though it’s a lesson that bears repeating. AHEM, Ignorance Is Bliss. And again, I know next week, Lu. There will be Humiliations Galore, there will be, uh… hurt. I’m a horn dog, Lunalesca. But at this particular moment, as Balance says, I’m safe. But I’m also up, and why is that Lady Lunalesca?

If I had a dollar for every bad thing… I could avoid the worst thing. I can’t believe I was about to say the Day Job. No, the worst thing is losing Braxton. I wouldn’t have been at the Day Job if I had enough money. I wouldn’t have been Down With The Sickness.” And I would have noticed Braxton sooner. He’d survive. “Such mad hope, but there it is…” There is so much wrong with that statement. It’s stolen, and dog parents think it. Lunalesca, I’m determined to bring myself down. “I ain’t happy, I’m feeling glad.” And even that is not meant to last. Yet why I feel this way is also a question, so what now, Lu? Do I want more of it or less, My Lady?

The last time I was drunk, Braxton was still alive. And I confessed about having no “relations” in this house. That wasn’t Braxton’s fault; he loved Yabbos. And getting high? “What’s My Age Again?” Nobody likes you when you’re 23… or 39. There’s always V? Only he woke up in Braxton’s Room because I’m not the person anyone should be around. Is that it? I didn’t go out yesterday, but I did Thursday. Still, I spent the majority of this week alone. And even then, I’ve had bad days. Less sugar, Lady Lunalesca? I’m not spending much on food. But what about new toys? Does it matter, Lunalesca? Being high? One always comes down. But Heaven? A Do B Virgil

1,007 Days Without B III, Day 448 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 125 ~Read… Ready… B, V~

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Am I ready to live or exist? Am I ready to read about life? Last week, I read of a guy and a corpse. Now, there’s a guy, a corpse, and a witch coven. People celebrate Christmas… now. I celebrate Halloween? Effing dead. Never Ready. Read… Ready… B, V.

Friday, November 3, 2023

Tale 125 ~Read… Ready… B, V~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… But I would rather write you a few. Hell! I should have written several. Next Week?

It’s like listening to Succubus Lord for… I don’t know how many times by now. But according to Audible, it’s been a lot. And you know what I want to say about them. Only I go back and forth on this whole censorship thing. I wish I could say certain things and call it free speech. It’s why I keep my mouth shut, ears filled and lost fifteen bucks. Meh. Yet opening my eyes and reading. It didn’t occur to me to read all those pet loss books while Braxton was dying. He was going to live. Sophia, that’s where faith lays, with B III. But at the same time, I read as I didn’t want to worry about it with B crossing the bridge.

Now, why do I bring this up today? Well, besides the fact that I talk about B III every day. If I had to express all my fears, we would be here, My Lady. Uh, “EVERYTHING” isn’t that hard to say? Writing it? Anyway, I’m afraid I won’t write Braxton’s name one day. Hmm? Before I decide to start scanning years sniffle worth of blogs. Again, what’s with today? It’s how I stayed ahead to watch my boy cross over. And yet, I’m not ready to step out of this bed. One step towards life or even a better existence at this point. And as I say that, My Lady. There was a zombie package at the door. A package for my package. Uh gross.

I really didn’t make a joke about “my” new toys, did I? My Lady, that’s the only thing I’m ever ready for. I’m always ready to get some. So, when was the last time that happened? This is more of a confession for Inspector Echo, but I’m always ready to read the truth. The last time I ever “got some” would be around seven years ago. Never in this house!!! And I can’t even blame that on Braxton. When it came to Carolina Bound, the woman I would make his honorary aunt since she’s like a sister to me. My son did try to play wingman. Did I ever read to him about moms? Not even how girls became mothers. Nope. Read… Ready… B, V

1006 Days Without B III, Day 447 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 123 ~Getting A B, Virgil~

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If I’d earned a few… a lot of A’s, I’d have a grade A existence. Schools don’t have scholarships for zombie tales or HaremLit. And while I love my boy and took Virgil in, I hate Math. So much for my plans to be a vet. A writer? “Getting A B, Virgil.”

Wednesday, November 1, 2023

Tale 123 ~Getting A B, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. It’s not like I’m fooling anyone into believing I’m a righteous man. How about a writer or reader?

Today is the first day of NaNoWriMo, which WAS usually hard on Braxton and me. Usually, it means another unpublished book. And with two months out from E-Day. So, ten months away from being forty? I swear I thought I was afraid before Inspector Echo. Halloween was yesterday. And what spooky things did I do with the night, dear Echo? Well, I read Satan’s Sorority Girls 3. And wanted to break with Grayson and Julia. Frightening? Inspector Echo, you know November is the month guys say NO to specific activities. But yeah, I watched Halloween Havoc for the following reason. Say it with me, Inspector. YABBOS! I should have listened to Braxton. The best legs, breasts, and thighs come from a bucket of chicken, Inspector.

Then maybe, just maybe, I would have more energy to write. And more time, Inspector. Hell! I could have a new subject to write about. I get F’s in everything else. That is if I let people peruse it, got it published, and didn’t use it as a punishment device. Writing poetry and prose meant so much more once upon a time. Once I got out of school, that is. Was it only 2020 2021 that I figured it was the way out for Braxton and me to live? Ha-Ha! Braxton found his way out, but what about me? Selfish much? It is inevitable, Inspector. Indifference killed my boy because I had to keep my anger at the Day Job far away from him, always.

Then there was my stupidity. I bought some Halloween “cool devices” from a particular company this week. Did I mention how my monster of choice has always been the Dead?

And now I’m reading a bill on zombie toys. Doesn’t Virgil need more stuff, Inspector? And I could be looking up ideas for stories, but would they be published somehow? Inspector, if I want a good horror story, I could look at The Day Job. And all the things I need to sign up for to continue to be one of The Walking Dead. For V’s sake, sigh. And last night, I got a message from M Anime assuring me, “Oh God, I’m gonna die alone.” Not surprising. But my boys? Getting A B, Virgil.

1004 Days Without B III, Day 445 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 122 ~A MASK B, V~

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Do you want to see a ghost? Been there, done that. Do I want to see a zombie? It’s more like I want to see a lot more. And there’s also Animatronics. But there’s no need for a mask tonight. I’ll be staying in alone. Well, V’s here too. “A MASK B, V.”

Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Tale 122 ~A MASK B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you. It’s why I don’t hide anything from you. Why I hate myself. And I like Creed.

The movie? I’ve only seen the first. And parts of the second. But you know I’m talking about the band.

“If I had just one wish, only one demand

I hope he’s not like me, I hope he understands” ― With Arms Wide Open, Creed

I know it’s not a song having to do with Halloween. Happy Halloween! If I wasn’t in a messed up space right now. Hell! I should check where I was in 2021 and 2022, love. Messing around on Instagram and Facebook, I saw something about A Day of the Dead for fur babies on the 27th. Of course, I missed it. And now I’m reading up on the “official” Day of the Dead. But other than my firstborn son, who do I miss? I’m still cringing about how I stunk up my granddaddy’s funeral. Worse than his corpse? That’s not cool to say, I know.

Then again, I make you lie with a corpse every night. Two, if I’m being honest with Braxton’s remains on the nightstand. You’re the only one who loves the Dead as much as me. (Swoons). Maybe that should be your Halloween costume this year… Trinity. Because the man you love would be The One. Which means that I can’t be dead. But even now, sigh. I want to be with my boy. At least that’s what my face tells me every morning I wake up. But, like most days, I put on a mask and have to become someone else. And that’s the difference between my two boys. Braxton showed me who I could be. Virgil shows what I’ve become. Then you and our family…

Today should be… easier. I get to put on a mask, but even now. To be scary, not too scary. In a minute, I’ll burst out with Mulan’s “Reflection.” Mulan and Shang? That’s an idea. And after today? If there was one thing I liked about COVID, it was the mask. I didn’t have to hate myself for these fake smiles. Oh, I did mention I killed Braxton Barks, hmm. I’ll hide behind books so people can treat me like it’s school, always and forever. “Daddy’s tired.” How many times have I heard you say that as I lie, crying into a pillow? How many days has it been, 1,003? Did we buy candy? I’ve had a sugar crash for days. A MASK B, V

1003 Days Without B III, Day 444 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 119 ~Braxton For 1,000, Virgil~

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So, 1,000 Days since Braxton’s been gone? Why does it hurt more to think of these 1,000 Days? And the 15 years that I spent with him? Than the 39 years of “my” existence, I’ve wasted? Over 1,000 words, never can say goodbye. Braxton For 1,000, Virgil

Saturday, October 28, 2023

Tale 119 ~Braxton For 1,000, Virgil~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… Sigh. If I were, I wouldn’t say I’ve wasted 39 years of existence. But it’s been…

“Though a thousand words
Have never been spoken.”
1000 Words

1,000 Days. Lady Lu, I have let 1,000 Days negate the 15 years I spent with my son, B III. And I know it’s not right, fair, or just. But when have I ever been right? Or even been a fan of Math? It doesn’t sound like a lot. Hell! To me, it’s one messed up excuse to sit here. 1,000 Days AND more. That is what terrifies me. And it should scare Virgil to death as well. Seeing as how he’s been here for 441 Days of them. But how many more, Lady Lu? I was supposed to be up at 8:00 AM to take him outside. So why haven’t I? I’ll tell you. Because I know he’s hungry, and where’s his dinner, Lunalesca?

1,000 Days, time loses all meaning. So breakfast, lunch, um, ok, a snack Lady Lunalesca? At least I can say it’s not anger or lust that holds me back. It’s only shame and sloth now. And in Virgil’s 441 Days here, I’m sure he has cried over 1,000 times. It only took me ignoring Braxton’s cries once for him to end up “resting in a box. Lunalesca, the lesson. 1,000 Days later, I haven’t learned a damn thing. I would say 1,000 Yabbos later. But we both know I’ve seen more than 1,000. And that’s only with October. With me almost being 40… again, it’s October, but my latest E-Day continues to haunt me. Tis the season, isn’t it, Lu? But Braxton Barks Bradford’s ghost…

1,000 Days. I don’t know what I’m trying to do anymore. Do I want to forget him? No, not ever. So why have I procrastinated by reading over 1,000 words from all these emails? Lunalesca, I’ve been lamenting that I’m not participating in NaNoWriMo this year. But if I write 400 words a year, that’s 146,000 words. Lady Lunalesca, I’m doing nearly three NaNoWriMo challenges a year. And what have any of those words ever gotten, Luna? 1,000 Days saying goodbye to my son? Only I’ve never found Acceptance, Lady Luna. The other day, I petted V’s head and said, “You’re a good boy, B.” So, 1,000 days, ha. Days, words, dollars. One thousand more won’t bring Braxton back to me… Braxton For 1,000, Virgil

1,000 Days Without B III, Day 441 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

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So I finished a book about a guy and a corpse. Then, last night, I hoped I wouldn’t see one as Virgil breathed weirdly. Should have read up on how to help him. If I had time. 15 years with B, what do I know of dog first aid. “Just Breathe, B, Virgil”

Friday, October 27, 2023

Tale 118 ~Just Breathe, B, Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… Better yet, I need to read how to perform basic first aid on dogs. Virgil Vivi?

Lady Sophia, if you’re asking why I’m so late this morning. Hell! I lounged around in bed for an hour. And then I can’t say I was reading anything. How do THEY say… A picture is worth a thousand words. So, how many pairs of Yabbos is that? The answer might surprise you. But we’re not here because of Math. Next to History, Reading rules. Inevitable. And according to Kindle, I’ve read for 562 days. And not one of those books would have saved V last night. Don’t worry. He’s very much alive. Breathing? Happy? He’s becoming more and more like me. Except I think he would prefer breathing, Sophia. But what do I know? Braxton wanted to make me happy. What makes me happy?

Didn’t The Beatles write a song about it? Only I’m not one for that kind of violence. Have you seen the news the past few days? Something else I want to avoid seeing, hearing about, or reading. Then again, I could tell you that Virgil Vivi was gone. After the trouble, he had last night. I petted him and begged him to take a breath. Again, looking up medical emergencies. Sophia, I didn’t. While Braxton lay dying, I finished Succubus Lord 7, next came 8. Vladimir Nabokov’s The Enchanter came after. So, um, three books before I got to sigh… A Dog’s Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron. But what is my purpose, to keep breathing? More than likely, it’s to waste air, Sophia, I swear.

It’s a good enough reason not to buy physical copies of books. It’s an insult, Lady Sophia, to trees, blasphemy to the air, and humanity… What about it? Look at the last seven books that I’ve read. Sunday has always been a bad day. Well, since B died. But talking to the Man in the Mirror. Hell! I guess he’s sick of telling me about my failures every week. Anyway, I was talking about novels. The last seven were about dirty priests, vampires, elves, video game vixens, and a girl’s corpse. “Can’t Get It Up If The Girl’s Breathing.” Eww! Thank you, Repo! The Genetic Opera. Unfortunately, genetics, “my” biological imperative, demands I keep breathing. How these stories end. Virgil’s story? Just Breathe, B, Virgil

999 Days Without B III, Day 440 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 116 ~Virgil On B’s Time~

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What time is it? When I was 36 and Braxton was 15, we didn’t care. If I had my way, he would be 18, and I would have never seen 7. I’d say 0, but I love my Ma. And with nearly 1,000 days, I can still cry for my boy. He’s My Son. V? Virgil On B’s Time

Wednesday, October 25, 2023

Tale 116 ~Virgil On B’s Time~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Is grieving a sin? It’s been 997 days, so three shy of 1000. As always, my Little Braxton.

I cried for him today, Tuesday, October 24, 2023. So, I’m only looking one day ahead. And yes, I will weep. But only because of the Day Job. Or I hope so. I wish to be sad, I swear, Echo. THEY say that “Anger is more useful than Despair.” And as Dr. Banner put it. “I’m always angry.” Always and forever, Inspector Echo. Who has that kind of time ever? Inspector, as I told Dear Future Wife today, I do. I have hated myself for the majority of 39 years of this existence. And the fact that I’ll make it to 40… Inspector Echo, geez. October is a month of scary things. Isn’t it? I still want zombies, but my boy B is in ashes.

So why is Virgil living on B III time? It’s not like it’s doing me any favors, even today. Ha! It’s three in the afternoon, so shouldn’t I be talking to Madam Justice? Procrastination, Echo. Virgil has been here for 438 days. And he’s still asking me when will be his time to come out and play. He’s living like Braxton did during his last days. And at least Braxton had the biological imperative to survive. My boy would eat, drink water, and use his pad. Even when he was dying, Inspector. He didn’t want his water right next to him. B was a man. And he walked to where his water dish once was. I need these tears, hmm. Today’s humiliations won’t be enough?

I’ve had alarm bells all day, both Tuesday and Wednesday. I told Dear Future Wife a nightmare awakened me this morning. There have been sirens, both police and women. There’s the silence of my overthinking, overloading. And, um, overflowing. And Inspector something as simple as the wind that could blow down the fence anytime. It can be all over. Inspector Echo, doesn’t Virgil deserve a chance, a choice, and his case on the clock? It’s Braxton’s first meds, outside time, and second dose every day. And everything I did was to one day have more time with him. The time I spend with Virgil… We both don’t know. “Time Has Come Today,” it will. Be it 3, 18, 39. Sigh, E-Day. Virgil On B’s Time

997 Days Without B III, Day 438 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 115 ~To B Beloved Virgil~

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The look of love is in your eyes. A reason I don’t have a mirror over the bed. I’m not that freaky. I’d never see it unless I found B III… um, Virgil, a mom. It has never been a love for me; it’s love for someone else, B, V. To B Beloved Virgil.

Tuesday, October 24, 2023

Tale 115 ~To B Beloved Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you. I can confidently (ha-ha) say that I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. That’s scary, right…

Another reason I love money so much. Yes, I’m going to keep it ninety-two plus eight, babe. “My” Olds never taught me to love myself. But keeping me, myself, and I alive takes money. I’m thirty-nine and still thinking about “my” E-Day. One too many, sigh. Anyway, to love myself. And that’s in a keep-my-pants-on sort of way. I don’t think I ever will. Braxton, though, got the closest. I love him so much that I know my biological imperative. Love, you know I will indulge in my pop culture tendencies. Several, I’m afraid. As Haymitch Abernathy told Katniss… “Stay Alive.” That was my B III whenever I went out. Or, as Max said in Fury Road… “So I exist in this wasteland, reduced to one instinct: survive. I do

Two little words from the three I tell you all the time. I love you; I do. Just keep breathing. I did that for Braxton. And I do it for you every day. Take this morning for example. I saw this thing when They asked when do you feel the most STUPID. It’s opening my eyes. Hell! A “Crazy Little Thing Called Love.” It’s STUPID, too. But you know why I feel that way. Because I hate myself and like most things, I do, if for everyone else. Love and Hate, which both require me to live. And as the song goes, “Why do the things I hate come so naturally?” I hate myself to love Braxton, you, our family.

Geez! I sound so much like, um… a specific political party. I don’t love my critic but care enough to censor myself. Now I’m sitting in bed, wanting to make the list. “Someone You Loved.” I’m still talking to myself because I know you love me, somehow. And Virgil does, too… Why don’t I ask you? How I could love myself, baby girl. Last night, I dreamt about the old Day Job and how I would have felt if I lost it. Hell! I watched my firstborn die, and in his eyes, was his Daddy. I couldn’t even close them. Punishment I needed to see. Beloved, how I long to see a better man in your eyes someday. But how, love? To B Beloved Virgil

996 Days Without B III, Day 437 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 112 ~Virgil, A Fool B…elieves~

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I believed… okay, wanted to that God would save my son. I never believed books on grieving would help me. And I don’t believe a cookbook would do me any good, so I never bought one. Yet I believe in a billion dollars! “Virgil, A Fool B…elieves.”

Saturday, October 21, 2023

Tale 112 ~Virgil, A Fool B…elieves~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now… and other lies I tell myself. I’ll wake up on time. Won’t commit a crime. Dimes?

I swear, Lady Lunalesca, I should already be up and about, and for what? To spend more money that I don’t have. And didn’t I refuse to stay longer at the Day Job? For what? Lunalesca, sing it with me. “I need some sleep. It can’t go on like this.” But did I, Lady Lu? “No, I don’t think I will.” And I wish I could say it was my guilt about my son, Braxton. Hell! What about Little Virgil? How is three treating him? I’m still in bed, Lunalesca. Going outside is the last thing on my mind. But again, I’m going to have to go out regardless. I gotta eat. Or rather, I won’t let Virgil starve. Am I a monster? A fool?

Every day, Lady Lunalesca, I read. Do you want to know why? I heard in some motivational speech from Eric Thomas… I “believe.” Anyway, he said Bill Gates reads 50 books a year. So, plenty of people read way more, but Bill Gates is worth $104 Billion. I swear, Lady Lunalesca! Warren Buffet is worth $106 Billion. There are many ahead of them. For sure, but I don’t know their reading lists. But what am I reading this week? Hmm. Princess Tamer: A LitRPG Harem Adventure by Neil Bimbeau. First, that name… Pseudonym, seriously. Second, it’s not like I can tell the Man in the Mirror this week. I got way too much stuff to do, Lady Lu, and why is that? Because I believe…

Sundays, Lady Lunalesca. I haven’t “talked” to God since B. And talking to myself, huh? Yeah. That guy is thirty-nine and doesn’t know anything besides Endure and Survive. Or how, as Andrew Ryan put it, “A man chooses. A slave obeys.” Lunalesca, a fool? Lunalesca, I believe that a small nap won’t hurt me, and then existence abandons me. Every day, I believe I deserve Hell for what happened to B III. Justice, revenge, whatever. Yet I treat the phone with much more care than I did him. Lunalesca, what could I give up? The Power of Love? I wish. As Todd put it, I believe in The Power of the, um, you know Lu. And then the things I do… Virgil, A Fool B…elieves

993 Days Without B III, Day 434 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 111 ~Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton~

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With the reading and writing, I do. I’m now saving Virgil’s Birthday? He’s turning three. So, another step towards fifteen… And ain’t nobody reading Braxton’s books yet. It’s hard when they’re unpublished. But today? Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton

Friday, October 20, 2023

Tale 111 ~Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
Let ME tell you a story… About how I was a better Daddy to Braxton than Virgil? Hell! That’s like Succubus Lord.

I know that series front, back, and sideways. I’m getting ready to listen to three again (hint, hint). But when I’m going to sleep, I tell myself a bedtime story. I’m already on six and Jacob’s road into Hell. And if that ain’t the story of this existence, minus the hot succubi and other friends.

But let’s stay on topic, which for once ain’t B III. Who am I kidding? It’s always about Triple B. Only today can I focus on Virgil Vivi. Today, he is turning three. And if he’s anything like me, he’d belt out, “I’m still alive. Must have been a miracle.” Or a curse? As the “Good Book” says, we’re all damned anyway. Well, me always. All for my Little Braxton. But what about “my” Virgil?

Do you see what time it is? I can’t say it was the first thing I read. Next to mirrors, clocks are the worst things to look at. Because every second, I can see myself wasting “my” existence. It’s days like yesterday that show everyone else sees this worthless existence.

So I’m not even going to pretend to be happy for Virgil’s birthday? First, I’m never happy about anything. And second, I’ve been trying to be positive. What would make Virgil happy? I wonder. I wasted another seven dollars this morning, but I’m canceling plenty.

“OF” subscriptions? My Lady, particular kinks will do that. Didn’t I talk about my eyes being messed up sometime this week? If anything, I’m tired. And still, there’s time travel.

Only I didn’t think of that when I refused to stay for three extra hours at the Day Job. And you would think with the spare time I’d be finished reading a particular book, that’s um… how to describe it?

I won’t. But I’m so sick of reading about everyone else’s successes. But not any of my own. My Lady, I never burn books but could use the light from V’s B-Day candles. That is if I decide to get up and do anything for his third birthday. Good Luck. “The sun is up, the sky is blue. It’s beautiful, and so are you.” Well, it beats singing Happy Birthday.

Words on an invitation, a card, a gift. Suppose I had Booked Virgil’s Birthday, Braxton.

992 Days Without B III, Day 433 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will