Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

Most of the stories I write end in a brothel someplace. And I won’t dare to say I’m one to write a harem romance. As for this month, I’ll only be reading Christmas “stories.” And hoping by the end, well… not looking for miracles. B There Bad Stories.

Friday, December 10, 2021

Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I’ll never tell the story of inherited wealth. I work. The Day Job’s the worst.

So I tell myself an even worse tale. Today while I was buried in boxes, of course, I thought of those last few minutes before I resigned my son to one. I ignored everything else. Sophia, if I had done that before and focused on B III, he would still be with me. I mean more than spirit. How long am I going to tell this story, hmm? Nothing’s more horrible. You’re asking about good stories. I tried that while I was buying coffee for Cherry. Sad that my paycheck has never been that big. It was only because of 3 paid vacation days, ha. America, America. If you wonder why I have been avoiding the news for some time now. End of the world…

Please, my world ended on Sunday, January 31, 2021, at around 3:30 – 3:45 PM. The Revolution Will Not Be Televised. Watch World War III On Pay TV. No, I’m not scared. Yet another lie. Now don’t get me wrong, Lady Sophia, I’m not afraid for the country. We’re beyond screwed, but no. As always, I’m one selfish prick. Always bad words. OnlyFans Lady Sophia. My Stuff and Thangs if you’re wondering where I was tonight. Well, this afternoon, for the most part. A picture is worth a thousand words or $5.00. Only where was I this morning? Besides my good deed for today, I was waiting for sirens, boots at the door. To be on the news. The one tale I don’t want to tell

Like my tears, but they always come. Today they were brought on by another book I’m reading. I’m getting into the Christmas spirit, my first one ever alone thirty-seven years. So the story is called “The Christmas Nanny” by Elizabeth Kelly. Remember I read her work last year, “The Christmas Wife.” Should I read the one with the dog? NEVER!!! Sophia, you know the stories I tell to myself at night? I was telling myself the story of Final Fantasy VIII. Only freaking YouTube reactions. I’ve been watching Squid Game. Okay, I mean the reactions now. How I wish my Gganbu would come back all rich. Knowing Braxton, food wouldn’t be an issue. A Christmas miracle. I got some time, only B There Bad Stories.

313 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 155 ~To B Humiliated Soon~

Coming soon… yeah, I should shut up now, but I would talk about “adult situations” much easier than the effing Day Job. And the fact that I will go back next week and the week after. Aren’t I ashamed… of what happened to B III? “To B Humiliated Soon”

Friday, December 3, 2021

Chronicle 155 ~To B Humiliated Soon~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I have yet to tell a comeback story. Now the humiliating ones. Oh, every day.

Will it feel like a holiday? Did I get a holiday after the past 2 days? Considering I’m counting 3 things instead of 10. My words are still a rush of nonsense but a minimum today. The General Manager, Boss Lady, is still a… I think I told you about people making rules addressing everybody but meaning you. The same comes for giving out orders, fucking truck. And in the end, you know how much I hate to be touched, Lady Sophia. Do I look like a bitch? Don’t answer that, but a fist bump? Lady Sophia, can’t people respect, hands-off? Braxton helped me come up with my rule. If you ain’t my dog, my girl, or applying? Hands-off me. Should tell that to me.

As you know, I’m a fan of a particular pornographic actress, a pretty poet. And plenty of pinup playable characters made porn by certain artists. Anyway, where is all my money going again? Only I haven’t seen a plump yabbos in weeks. Monk status regained? Yeah, Lady Sophia, when I’m not being a “holy roller,” it’s like I’m one of the dead or the Reaper himself. Tomorrow as routine, I’m heading to PetSmart again. Now, this isn’t the point, but my shame when I left without Braxton and then with him in a doggie bag. That was not funny, I know, my Lady, but I’m all cried out for now. Hell, I’m somewhat surprised steam isn’t coming from my eyes in all my rage, geez.

Rage leaves you nowhere to hide. Can’t see the forest for the trees? All that is left is me. If Stuff & Thangs taught me anything. It’s that I’m not scared necessarily, Sophia. Dammit, next week with all my clothes on is much worse. Than writing, wanking, and working out how to keep my head above water. The idea of drowning in reality, creepy. Take that how you will. I even worry about the dumb stuff, like someone asking me what book I’m reading. Well, ‘tis the season, so Sophia, witness, Succubus Christmas Special. Lady Sophia, it’s something to do while I wait for next week and more of my Humiliations Galore. The comedian is dead, but the laughs keep coming. To B Humiliated Soon

306 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 148 ~Pump The Breaks B~

To think I damned last Friday. Today’s Black Friday, so yeah, my “Humiliations Galore….” Well, I don’t want to talk about it, then again I do, but my son is gone. When nobody is Happy you survived the day, then I’d get back here. “Pump The Breaks B.”

Friday, November 26, 2021

Chronicle 148 ~Pump The Breaks B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means there should be no more humiliation. Penis Rocket, Bernie Sanders, lying to Stephen Colbert.

Hell, with today being “Black Friday.” the Humiliations Galore portion of my life was multiplied. If I started talking about all my shame today, I would never ever stop Sophia. I could always tell you some more about Braxton. Always with the pain of his loss, everything pales in comparison, my lady. It’s pretty fucked up using Braxton this way. Would you rather me tell you a pornographic tale? Yet again, I will lie to NaNoWriMo about “Behave In The Cherry Patch.” I finished reading “Only Gone From Your Sight.” So many stories. But the one that came to mind this afternoon was when I escaped for an hour at lunch. Am I trying to remember happier times with my lost boy? After a nap.

Anyway, when I do get a lunch break, I would come back to walk Braxton. I’m trying to remain “cheerful,” Lady Sophia, honest. AHEM, so I’d return, and we’d walk the path behind the house. I could be late a minute or so getting back to the Day Job, but B III IS worth it. He was so tiny that when he sneezed, sometimes he would bang his head on the floor. No wonder he was on a quest for comfy spots. Hardheaded but a soft behind, that’s B. I could never figure out what was wrong with one side of his bed, you know. Saving a place for me? He could have wanted me to sit my ass down. Sometimes for only ten minutes.

Once, when we first got here, I remember that I came back to the house, and Braxton had slipped through the bars to greet me. I can tell you so many miracles of Braxton showing love, but him staying with me, not sprinting outside. Impossible, Parenting, I did it right. Sophia, of course, you know my favorite view of Braxton. Waking up like I did today, and B III at the foot of the bed staring out the door. He would come back and decide if I was strong enough. If he cuddled me, I’d drift off. If he ran around the bed. “Daddy’s awake.” That was his way of telling me it was time to live but 299 Days Sophia. Pump The Breaks B

299 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 141 ~Cause It’s Friday B~

I wonder if Friday the 19th could be a thing. The 13th has zing. I live my horror story, Friday the 29th, back in January. Either way, you slice it; a dog’s dead or dying. A killer is on the streets (Rittenhouse), and today sucks. Cause It’s Friday B

Friday, November 19, 2021

Chronicle 141 ~Cause It’s Friday B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that might be enough to forget that it is Friday in a Sensory Deprivation Tank.

I hate Fridays though I should be enjoying this one considering Black Friday is coming up next. I could tell you the stories of the decade in which I have wasted my life at the Day Job. Humiliations Galore… nothing hurts more than the Friday I found out about B. Anyway, we’ll get to him; we always do. Even now, I’m not making him a priority. Hell, I didn’t make Cherry one either, and she has Yabbos. What about the supervisor today I couldn’t talk to? To see my cowardice in real-time, Lady Sophia. My effing Day Job, ok? When Braxton was dying, I was on the phone; I was all over the place. At the moment, I would rather be nowhere at all, Sophia.

Don’t mind me, while I was dicking around, I finished reading the book “I Am Nelson.” A dead dog, plus watching a killer go free… Yes, I saw the Kyle Rittenhouse verdict. And then where are we now, Lady S? 292 Days without my son. Then there’s the next day. While I was busy paying for Yabbos, I found my paycheck adequate. Art thou happy? Hackers and spam have been plaguing me this week, but nothing today. Art thou happy? I’ve felt a splash of inspiration from music and movies Lady Sophia. Art thou happy? Today, hell no, I’m tired, and I hate myself. I hate my life. Even sitting in bed ain’t easy right now. But it could always be worse. On the floor…

How low will you go? A lot of people ask themselves this when the weekend is upon us. I already talked about being on the ground scaping up fries someday this week. Braxton would be appalled. More when I spoke to him last night about what I didn’t do Saturday. I’m still not a BELIEVER, but God bless dogs. I saw that I forgot all about the reason I even started this blog. I missed November 5th. As I was buried in kitchen playsets, vacuum cleaners, bedding, and dog toys. Only one memory, a single day, stuck in my mind. Sophia, today is Friday. One more day to hate like all the others. Do I have stories to bring about sleep? Cause It’s Friday B

292 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 134 ~Life B Scary Sometimes~

Tonight is brought to you by the letter B. Always for B III but for tonight, I’m leaning more towards Banning. I did not plan on Big Uns, Bad mofos, and a lot of Banning. At least I survived traveling the night for a burger. “Life B Scary Sometimes.”

Friday, November 12, 2021

Chronicle 134 ~Life B Scary Sometimes~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what is there left to fear? If I were a Republican, people with morals, etc.

God knows mine when flying out the window this morning? I did not plan on having the day I had. That’s not saying much. The usual blueprint for the day is to survive it, Sophia. But much like every other story that I “put down.” Hearing about my breathing is anything but “interesting.” So you know, those are dirty words but again how about now. I wish Braxton was here, then I might get some sleep. At present, I’m sitting at ten minutes, and that won’t last for long. We’ll get to that like I’ve been meaning to nap today. Dammit, Lady Sophia, I don’t deserve it. I only wrote 2700 words today. I was sitting here making a plan, paying a girl, Cherry read.

Lady Sophia, a dog’s bark could make me get my shit correct. What do you think? I’m not getting my hopes up, but what if I walk into PetSmart tomorrow and “he” is still there. Ain’t like I got money to burn and the cash I have had all these 285 Days. It’s not like I have been spending it on B III, but I did finish the book “This Dog’s Afterlife,” ok. As the song goes you “Make Me Wanna Die” is what I would tell the author. I don’t mean that as a bad thing. Heaven sounds kickass, but I’m not going there now or ever, ha. Even if I had a heart attack sometime tonight. I know, not cool. Thirty minutes now.

So why do I keep mentioning time? With the time, Braxton never got. You best believe Lady Sophia, I got my cry in over soggy fries. Hell, I should be grateful I survived the roads. While I was planning on getting food today, I got an alert about some scammer. I blocked the hack and continued about my business, but from around 4:00 PM to 10:10 PM, it’s been a nonstop barrage. I’m holding the line so far, but again about thirty-five minutes and going. I’ve been doing so well with my writing, and if I wasn’t looking at only another grilled cheese sandwich. Or restarting my watch because you guessed it. Blocked someone else. To be on point with B. Life B Scary Sometimes.

285 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 130 ~Pain Should Never Be Hoarded~

Too many damn sticky notes. Floating around me. Those yellow note pads are only one more thing that I’m hoarding for work. Humiliation, Hurt, a hunger for something more than this. But no, only pain. And I know… Pain Should Never Be Hoarded but

Monday, November 8, 2021

Chronicle 130 ~Pain Should Never Be Hoarded~

Two-Hundred And Thirteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I’m the biggest victim in America. Woe is them and me, right. Oh, the pain…

Yeah, that ain’t true. As the song goes, “Mo Money Mo Problems.” What I wouldn’t give for such burdens. Ahem, my son’s life, light reminders, literally parts of my flesh. If I ever get that tattoo of him or decide to become a monk, hmm. Asking where I’ve been today. What on a Sunday evening, knowing that this week is going to suck? It’s torturous making money. Or at least the way that I go about it. Instead, I would choose to be a pimp, a man of prose, a pornographer, but we’ll get to that. Like everything else, sigh. Money is the root of all evil or the lack of it. I go back and forth. It’s strange how sins connect. Greed and Sloth.

I would say that I’m greedy with sleep, but what have I been doing all day? If I haven’t been on my belly sleeping, I’ve been grinding away. No, I don’t mean that in a good way Madam. I’ve worked on two galleries today, and neither one was Braxton’s. Earlier this morning, it was all about Yabbos or the complete lack thereof. Coins, cash. There are another few C words I could talk about, but neither one is polite conversation. Madam, the truth is, I hoard lust. If I had the money, it would all go right back there now. What about my boy? Braxton’s been gone 281 Days, and again where is his reminder, his tribute. Well, other than sitting on my nightstand, Madam.

So why not wrath? To roar, to rampage, to have revenge. It’s thoughts like that which let me know humanity. There is too much hate, misery, and pain. To quote another song, I’m just a “Sucker for Pain.” It’s what makes me the perfect sadist; I receive but choose to give. The only time I denied, despised, and became disgusted by pain was that of Braxton’s. Madam, the pain I’ve felt of losing my only begotten son… Should I chill with that religious reference, Madam? Anyway, that kind of pain nobody but me deserves. Masochism? No, I don’t enjoy being in pain. How about being broke, belittled, and Blue Balls? Where should the pain go, I ask. There’s nowhere. Yet, Pain Should Never Be Hoarded

281 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

Crossing the line varies from person to person. Defending Nazis, harming pets, or liking R. Kelly, or more to the point, the music he made. The only lines I’ve been crossing these days are international currencies and stuff B needs. B There Some Line

Friday, November 5, 2021

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which to answer the title question is no. With that money, you’ll do any damn thing.

Save Braxton? I keep telling myself that. In a way, I was lucky my boy was the scrappiest man I knew/know. No broken bones. B III’s heart kept right on beating for fifteen years despite the few when he was on medication. The meds I bring out 278 Days afterward. Hell, I couldn’t be bothered to afford some stairs. Little Braxton learned to fly, always. Sophia, I hate making that “joke.” There’s also the fact I wouldn’t have Braxton neutered. B III was a man, and I wouldn’t take that away, no. Um, B III should have been bred, hmm. Again how did it all end Lady Sophia? Name on the line, and I’ll never cross another with his name on it, to be sure.

Because I’m a Bad Man, and no, not R. Kelly bad. To appreciate the art but not the artist… Didn’t I say years ago that I wanted to be as infamous as the Marquis de Sade? If I’m going down, you know the crime I should be punished for. Every time I hear sirens Sophia. But these days, it’s been the beeps, chimes, and dings that have been telling my story. God knows I’m still lying to NaNoWriMo. For the record, counting our conversation with Lady Sophia. This will be 3,900 words completed today. Well, why not 5,000? Hell, if I swore on Braxton’s name, I’d still be a lying piece of shit. 6,900 when I’ll tell NaNoWriMo it’s 8,500. Writing most of the day.

I keep telling myself that I should let my anger fuel me. A lot of the time, I fear the man in the mirror. Do you know why no one else should? It would require me to have more energy than to cross the line, which is the edge of the bed to the floor. Energy, FEAR. Sophia, there’s been one other thing keeping me glued to the sheets or shower walls. Reaching 5,000 words would be easier if I wasn’t looking up Pokémon Bras and lingerie. Every OnlyFans girl would kick my ass for how many “euros or quid” I’m spending. However, I crossed the line with that girl too. That was yesterday, but wow, Lady Sophia. Crossing the line feels damn good. But wrong. B There Some Line

278 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 120 ~How Scary Stories B~

My NaNo project came to me as I sat in a Burger King drive-thru spending $3.00 as $12.00 an hr ain’t going to cut it. Wow, I was lied to. That’s like saying the black guy dies in the horror movie, oh she’s pretty, there’s a virus. How Scary Stories B

Friday, October 29, 2021

Chronicle 120 ~How Scary Stories B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford a Lobotomy. Why would I forget Braxton’s death, my father’s call?

No, no, no, as we’re close to All Hallows’ Eve and all, I want to tell you another scary tale. Forgive me for the lack of a title, “Behave In The Cherry Patch” is all I have for NaNo now. Anyway, AHEM, once there was a boy who thought he received a Day Job promotion. The boy would be in charge for once; he would make a lot of money. Perhaps he could live The American Dream. He would work hard; he would do it not only for himself but to honor his lost boy, B III. So he looked at his paycheck to see his worth and… $12.00 hr. Scary, isn’t it? It gets so much worse, Lady Sophia, doing the numbers this morning.

But before that, how about another shot at a horror tale. Quasimodo, Jigsaw, zombies, ha. At least I have the good sense not to show my face. Anyway, it was HARD getting up this morning. You know what I mean, that “third leg.” Usually, I only got two, Braxton’s walk. No Lady Sophia, without him, I’m allowed to indulge in the light. So I see what I’m doing, disgusting. 271 Days since Braxton left. 161 Days I was a monk. Now 6 Days of abstinence. Well, at least I didn’t put this morning’s shenanigans on OnlyFans. My Stuff and Thangs. Still, the monster grows. It’s like I’ll come apart any second. My skin is crawling, and I’m so cold. The boy, the man, I am.

Or whatever it is that I’m becoming because I won’t be writing another Braxton novel. “Behave In The Cherry Patch” will be my next book. Yet to write Chapter characters. My tale will be about lost “loves” back from the dead. A Technological Necromancer, ha. The things we do for love. Not that I could write quite like Game of Thrones. Show or books, hmm? It depends on who you ask, and I’m not asking people. Not B III’s book. Lady Sophia, the story will be about Father Bridgman’s dead children. And plenty of hot pieces of ass when it comes to The Moondust. What’s scarier than telling the truth about a work of fiction. Like JoAnna Luna’s hotness in “Display?” How Scary Stories B

271 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 114 ~No, Not The B’s~

The bed’s not a mess, but then again, I might have to make it to see a difference. As if anything makes a difference when one political supports the Nazis. The years before, when I had a girl of the week, Anya, Panam, Jen. B’s still gone. No, Not The B’s

Saturday, October 23, 2021

Chronicle 114 ~No, Not The B’s~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I’d buy a safe place for animals not lucky like B. Blue Pills and Bullets.

The places my mind goes. Last night I didn’t dream about Braxton. But the dream I did have. Now Lu, like everything else in my life, it’s second-rate, second-best, and didn’t allow a second round. Let’s say I should call a physician as it lasted over four hours. Lady Lu, living in a would-be tyranny thanks to the Republican Party. That’s not to say I like the Democrats either. Um, M Anime is all for Anarchy but in a peaceful sort of way. Anyway, so my dream was of Wolfenstein, well, Anya Oliwa-Blazkowicz, to be specific. She wasn’t the only one; there was Panam Palmer from Cyberpunk 2077. And Jennifer Mallick, aka “Huck” TWD World Beyond. There were a few more. But leaving it there.

So as the song goes, AHEM, Lady Gaga “Sexxx Dreams.” This might explain why I didn’t get off on it. Despite how long I lounged around in bed. I still am at 7:20. It would have been something if I were only watching the performance, but I was “Begging,” Lunalesca. Did I mention my ears are being assaulted by everything? Okay, love the music, yup. Lunalesca, if you didn’t know, the Nazis that I’ve often read about are here, Republicans. Oh, there’s the Alec Baldwin shooting. It’s been on my mind. Shutting everything off. Ain’t that the dream? I wish I had thought about that yesterday. No, I save all my wishes for Braxton to come home. Or to go trust that chick from Facebook.

Hell, I wish I could enact a punishment that I know I deserve for B III. I’m a weak man. Always under the influence of a pair of breasts, boobs, books talking about them, hmm? Always at the mercy of bucks, bills, benjamins. Speaking of which, an errand for today. Always afraid of bullets, ballistics, busting a cap as the kids say nowadays? Staying away. Better an excursion to the bank than being with a weapon I shouldn’t touch, definitely. There’s the other weapon poking up, and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, damn it. As I said, the dreams. If I dreamed of Braxton, I’d be bawling my eyes out, which will happen sometime today. Instead, my balls are useless. No, Not The B’s

265 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 113 ~Lying, Braxton Be Trippin’~

It’d be less humiliating to be on my knees to God than how the Day Job had me crawling around Thu. Ironic that it was the shoe lady that had me doing that. What I wouldn’t give to be on the floor playing with B again. Lying, Braxton Be Trippin’

Friday, October 22, 2021

Chronicle 113 ~Lying, Braxton Be Trippin’~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I always have a soft place to land when I fall flat on my face.

So with my Republican ideology. I wish I could bury my head in the sand after yesterday’s humiliations. I did get off the Day Job early but let’s not forget I don’t even have money. This means I’m less than dirt, or should I say lint, as I’m lying in bed all day again. I should go shopping, but I’m already making up excuses. No, the word should be “Lying.” I would have been better off lying there and letting people step all over me. Hell, I was on the floor replacing those damn soft mats. I can do both; indeed, I followed through Sophia. Let’s focus on the lies, though. The fact that I thought, “I’m Gonna Be Somebody.” Now that would be Braxton.

There were days when Braxton would curl up beside my head, and I could go blind with all his hair. I would take one of the days when he would step on my face. How about the lies B would tell to get me to follow him and attempt to do something with this existence? With him around, I had to walk the straight and narrow path because where’s Braxton? Sophia, I try that at my Day Job, ok. Once again, I’m a fucking joke. I hate it there always. What have I been doing all this morning, making mistakes, and why? Comfy spots SIGH. Be it burgers, books, boobs, I spent how much again? The bucks better be there, or is $12.00 hourly it?

“The pessimist looks down and hits his head. The optimist looks up and loses his footing. The realist looks forward and adjusts his path accordingly.”
― The Walking Dead, 07×02

Was my Manager lying to me? It wouldn’t be the first time. Let’s focus on my lie, though. Which was, I wouldn’t be able to get fries for Braxton yesterday. As you can see, ta-da. What would have happened if I had this drive while Braxton was alive? B’s waiting. Another way of lying to myself so I don’t have to look. B III’s in the den waiting for fries. I stay in the dark so I can pretend he’s lying somewhere, and I have to look out for him. Days like yesterday say I should follow him and let his barking drive away, the noise. B III breathing did too. His lies that I’m a good Daddy I can forgive. Lying, Braxton Be Trippin’

264 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will