Tag: Novels

Saga 287 ~Virgil, Braxton’s Words Away~

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I don’t want to read more bad news. Day Job says you’re worth this? The GOP continues to be racist. Another brother dies, or is it some kids? Some people are above the law. My boy is still gone. And there’s always porn. “Virgil, Braxton’s Words Away”

Friday, April 14, 2023

Saga 287 ~Virgil, Braxton’s Words Away~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But I would never stoop to building a “man cave.” A Study, Library, a Gaming Room.

Hell! After reading “Fifty Shades of Grey,” you know I want to build the “Red Room of Pain.” Being a billionaire and all. One day I want to own a brothel. But enough of that. Which is something I’m sure Cherry intends to say. And I’ve talked to Braxton’s Aunt. Only most of these days I’ve been distant. And it’s not like reading is taking that long. It would be a lot more enjoyable if Braxton were here. I was on the loveseat this morning. Oh, don’t get your hopes up. I wasn’t reading but practicing meditation once again, Sophia. More to the point, I wanted to get away from Virgil. That’s the only reason I bothered getting up at all. He took the bed.

What? I didn’t have the heart to move him, so that’s something anyway. Besides Sophia. Does Virgil want to lay beside me as I read about how much I miss Braxton being by my side and not him? And at this rate, I can discover plenty of books about losing furbabies. Well, as long as the Kindle Challenge holds. It was all “fun and games” until Kindle dictated what titles they wanted you to read. It’s kept me away from Triple B for sure. Either that or, as the song goes, these “pornographic passions. Did I mention getting back on Audible, so I could get a book that had cost $34.79? I got it for free with a membership. It’s “Fairy Tale: Succubus, Book 7.”

Because with eyes, at least, all I’ve been reading is “good,” bad, and ugly news. It’s effing everywhere. Last night, I told Braxton’s Aunt I’m always tired. “Close Your Eyes.” There’s always “Oh, ah, ah, ah, ah! Get up, come on, get down with the sickness!” If you want to know where I was the last few minutes. TMI, right? The world, I am, sick. Thursdays are the only time I can tell Braxton about it… I don’t even remember what I told him yesterday, to be honest, and today. There’s so much writing left to do. How much for the Day Job? And what if I say something STUPID? There’s “GULP.” And then Braxton’s books. Let Virgil have the bed. Virgil, Braxton’s Words Away

803 Days Without B III, Day 244 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 280 ~Braxton Reads To Virgil~

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This is the first poem/song I’ve written in forever. I need to write the “Balance” App a good review… As I have no idea where this came from. Focus? When am I not focused on porn? When I’m crying about my boy. And my country? Braxton Reads To Virgil.

Friday, April 7, 2023

Saga 280 ~Braxton Reads To Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Yeah, when pigs fly… Oh, really? Well then, when dogs read. But Braxton was much more.

“He’s My Son.” But, “he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” Isn’t that great? I’m crying at 7:20 AM. At least the tears kept me from reading the alarm clock for the 3 hours I wasted. It’s a miracle to get up on time for anything but Hell. Um, “Isn’t it ironic, don’t you think?” Okay, I’ll quit with all the songs, but they beat the Bible slightly? It’s “Good Friday,” Lady Sophia. And even though I want the miracle of Braxton coming back… I won’t be reading the “Good Book.” You know, like the Republicans who are saying today “Good Riddance” to two black lawmakers. First, I didn’t realize that was the title of a song. Second, To the Tennessee GOP Ahem: FUCK YOU!

You see, it wasn’t all porn I was reading as I dried my tears and wasted time today. But since we’re on the subject. When are we not when it comes to my horniness every day. (Sigh) Internet Porn, Ahem:

Money Talks to Jessi Stone. Another, Jessie, likes to roam. At Dong’s Diner,
Rasberry, to Residents a drink, be wary. OnlyFans but Magy’s vag.
Magical but in a bag. Dollies’ hands. The Savior’s man. Momo’s tits while Dani’s sick. Dirty maids, not today. But on the floor, there’s lingerie.
And Ukraine a Stormy way. With little pricks of presidents, Blonde Melody, and BBCs.
Parker’s boned, but Tennessee? M Anime, the news today? Getting harder anyway.
And Fuu amongst the samurai and Retweeting all the hentai, and the final fantasy of Cherry’s body longed to see

We Didn’t Start The Horny

What the eff! I have no idea where that came from, Lady Sophia. I meant to make a “We Didn’t Start The Fire” reference. I guess I lied about the music, huh? But with all the “adult” themes today. Be it porn or politics (sigh). I meant to tell you everything I wouldn’t be reading today but now? Other than the fact I’ve spent an hour rewording this song… Why? Let’s say… I care about Virgil Vivi and don’t want him abandoned. If I said everything, Sophia. As I’m sure, Braxton tells Virgil, which is why Virgil is hiding in here. Braxton, my little ghost dog? Braxton Reads To Virgil

796 Days Without B III, Day 237 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 273 ~Those B Notes Virgil~

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This is the song that doesn’t end. When I am talking bout my friend. That’s why I didn’t sing to V. Or tell my boss to eff off. How about telling the truth? Kindle says I finished the story. Oh, WrestleMania. I should be reading Those B Notes, Virgil

Friday, March 31, 2023

Saga 273 ~Those B Notes Virgil~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. If I had a dollar for every time I listened to the Succubus Lord series, hmm?

Hell! I’ve listened to all 19 books, and I’m just breaking over four times… Republican? Sophia, like them, I pull facts, figures, and fuckery out of my ass. Things Braxton knows. Why? Because I would talk to him each and every day. I still do. But what does that mean for Virgil? That’s what I was thinking about. Today as I got his name right. Inevitable. Sophia, I’m surprised I even remembered his name with my reading habits. Today wasn’t a good day for that. And yes, you can tell I’m trying to avoid the subject of 2V if I’m being honest. It feels wrong somehow. But I did try talking to him while walking in. Humiliations Galore I’ll tell you about and never read.

Again and never. Let’s start with the Day Job. First, there was the lady with all the boxes in her car. There was the one that I couldn’t help finding curtains for. Remember the utter silence when I had to load the truck this afternoon? Black history, I AM A MAN. Anxiety—a vet appointment. There’s also computer literacy. And these vitamins aren’t working, Sophia. All the things I need to read. And that includes “A Black Women’s History of the United States.” I “finished” reading it yesterday, but you know… Not the Notes, Index, Photos, and Copyright. I’m an effing liar, Sophia. Or it feels that way. You know, editing and the like (sigh). And if only Braxton were here right now for me.

He couldn’t speak the words, share in my sins… well, ask his Aunt Carolina about our love of boobs. Braxton couldn’t sign. But every day. I did take note that he loved me… loves me. Not one word. But what do they say about actions, ha? Right, because I’m wrong. I was standing in the kitchen as Virgil waited for me, and I didn’t burst out into singing as I might have for Braxton on occasion. I continue to call for him and his medicine. Yesterday or the day before, there was an email about him needing his shots Sophia. Today though, I was making notes that I want a life without people in it. Or myself. Note effing shut up. Those B Notes Virgil

789 Days Without B III, Day 230 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Log 301 ~Live The Villain, Heroes Die~

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Whose side did I take, Captain America vs. Iron Man? And no, I’m not one for T’Challa as I liked Killmonger sitting on the throne of the Wakandan Empire. There’s always the thought of Deadshot and Harley (Homer drool). “Live The Villain, Heroes Die.”

Monday, April 27, 2020

Log 301 ~Live The Villain, Heroes Die~

Hundred And Thirty-Fourth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I didn’t do that being nice. Don’t get me wrong, Madam Justice, compared to most “I’m all right,” a point if you get the Firefly reference. While I’m on the subject of Firefly and Serenity, do you want to know the definition of a hero? Someone who gets others killed. One more reason I like villains because I don’t abide liars. Okay, so I’ll lie to save my behind, but I prefer not to put myself in such situations. I hate being the victim, playing the hero, but to live the villain, hell, I’m a writer.

Three reasons why I don’t write heroes. Number one again, I don’t like lying. I write fiction, but I don’t lie. It’s like the difference between the songs “I Wanna Love You” and “I Wanna F*ck You.” One four-letter word, but how many times must I say words matter. The second reason is I had an epiphany. I wrote nicely about women for a very long time, and where did that get me? I watched other guys drop some girls’ panties. Yet my words were considered stalkerish. Some were ignored altogether. What has netted me the most attention? Finally, I thought it was tough living up to the heroes. To have such stories told forever, to know constant stress. I’m not a hero Madam Justice because I’m stronger. I picked the path that puts me against the world. When I have (human) kids of my own, I don’t want them following me. I want them to greet the world, With Arms Wide Open, thanks Creed.

I should also thank Todd Michaels because all of a sudden, I want to read “Begging For It” again. Besides wanting my children to have a better example like Rabbit for a father. What about Dolly for a Mother? If you’ve read Sick Fux, you have my attention. Anyway, I have to live long enough to have a woman of my own, which means just that, living. As I said, heroes get stories and songs. Only the good die young, no good deed and the like. Last night I dreamt about Ozymandias, and of course, I don’t know his whole story. If anything, though, I wrote once “Lesson 050 A Comedian Died Today.” I’m not a comedian, a victim, or someone who saves, I’m Me.

Live The Villain, Heroes Die

I Will Have No Fear

Log 294 ~One’s Art Is Another’s Disgust~

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What am I trying to express other than an obsession with adult entertainment? I should be finished writing my book sometime this week, then editing… and I’ll file it away with all my “other” titles. One’s Art Is Another’s Disgust.

Monday, April 20, 2020

Log 294 ~One’s Art Is Another’s Disgust~

Hundred And Thirty-Third Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that’s great. If anything, like the song, goes, “Hire eight bodyguards that love to beat up assholes.” Except those “people” would be a lot of pretty girls. No, I’m not one of those “incel” losers, and I hate how I always end up sounding like Trump having to explain what I mean. SIGH first and foremost, women are the most beautiful creatures on the planet Earth. Okay, next to My Dæmon, of course. Everything I want and do in my life comes back to that, women.

So last night, I was talking about The Eve of a Cherry,” my novel. If you knew how many days I’ve spent first on the novella and then expanding it. I keep saying I can’t let anyone read it. It won’t make money, so why bother. It feeds my rank soul. What good is it, though. I don’t have the writing chops of S. Wolf, Todd Michaels, definitely not Skye Warren or Tillie Cole. Right now, I’m thinking more of Lily White, who wrote The Five and The Director. We’re talking snuff films “ravishment” fantasies, sex for drugs, and everything in-between. That stuff gets to me Madam Justice, it makes me feel alive. I can’t watch comedy for the sake of STUPIDITY. No toilet humor. Anything with mistaken identity or twins… well, that isn’t adult entertainment, but the funny stuff turns me off, without fail.

“THEY” talk about beauty being in the eye of the beholder, but I refuse to be blind. For a few weeks now, I’ve been arguing with myself over the idea of “Doublethink,” you know, from 1984. My kid is the perfect example of that, he can be a demonic little asshat, but I love him like pancakes, always and forever. I would fight anyone, though, that says anything wrong about him. Look, everyone is entitled to their opinion. Still, it’s the concept that everything I find amazing is looked at as putrid, perverted, or petrifying. One more reason I put women in everything. Only here I am nearing the end of my story, and as Jigsaw would put it, there will be blood. The Coronavirus (COVID-19) is running rampant, and I’m upset that there are no zombies. People are willing to die for some “beautiful” world I can’t see. Our American Dreams, my such art, One’s Art Is Another’s Disgust.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 287 ~Your Words Must Pick Sides~

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Don’t say it, and I wish it was something like “Cowabunga.” My Olds spent much of my life telling me not to talk, and when I grew up making me speak, but I didn’t want to sound like them. I want my words to choose me. Your Words Must Pick Sides.

Monday, April 13, 2020

Log 287 ~Your Words Must Pick Sides~

Hundred And Thirty-Second Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now because my words chose me here and now. At least I wish because they didn’t last night; two hundred words for, The Eve of a Cherry. What was I talking about last night? Yes, my tongue remained silent as I was ripped apart by the world. It reminds me of something I’ve heard from the Bible. The sins of the fathers will be visited upon the children or something like that. I’m still not a Christian man, but I am the son of one. My “Father’s” words became the world’s words, and then my own Madam Justice.

“The mistakes of our fathers make us fight our brothers.”

Again, left off from yesterday, I pick the worst words hoping once written down, they’ll take mine. The things I say to hurt myself. I remember the book Sick Fux by Tillie Cole. Evil words Rabbit and Dolly used to pleasure themselves in bed together. They were the words of those who ravished them. Madam Justice, I again practice gratitude that I never knew such horrors. Still, when one knows a monster’s pain, how dare anyone ask me to rise above. Right there, why do I immediately fall from Man to Monster? I had one of those and a good Mother, and so I became ME. I’m always trying to define myself. These words, Madam Justice, they have power, I know. So what am I doing with such force when I’m not destroying myself daily?

I wish I spoke with more kindness and love when it comes to My Dæmon. Every morning I begin with one word, “NO.” At this rate, I should consider SLEEP a holy writ for myself. Of course, neither of those words help me in the slightest. Who else do I speak to nowadays? Marianne Engel from The Gargoyle had the stone, and I have the screen, but I understand her shackles. The great labors to form her grotesques. Here I haven’t even begun my work, too busy talking to you. That’s not a dig, it was only a decision when I needed to get out of bed. If anything, I want to believe in my words. To have that freedom, but they are sitting in limbo as the song goes. Haven’t I shown on more than one occasion my willingness to destroy them, quickly enough?

Misguided, misanthropic, and missing to become decided, disgusted, and discarded. Your Words Must Pick Sides.

“The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth” – African proverb.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 214 ~Willie That’s A Series~

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Last week I thought it was the neighbor’s wall, then their satellite dish, something they have making that awful racket, now it could be my wall, the plumbing, or the plug outlet, so much reading on humming. Willie That’s A Series

Friday, January 31, 2020

Log 214 ~Willie That’s A Series~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but not much of a reader. If I were, I would tell you I finally read my latest novel. I might not be worried about what happened here today though My Dæmon is none the worse for wear. At this time I should be playing Far Cry 5 and telling you a story about a fish. When I woke up early today, I wanted to speak on ending that damn humming. Why can’t I tell you there are no more pains or scars? How about I wasn’t “late” to the Day Job? I defeated that infernal humming; no, only I’m alive.

Sometimes, that’s all you can say; I’m alive. The story of my life has yet to reach its end. Count your blessings, my motivations say, and again breathing is one. I had a good lunch today. For once, the kitchen isn’t a bloody mess because I woke up early to clean it. Excuse the language, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Cherry use the term “bloody,” but it sounds English. I’ve also had Game Of Thrones on Youtube. Pretty unwise, I did catch up on my sleep this afternoon. My Day Job wasn’t bad, though again, I got that question of what you’re doing here. I’ll give them credit for having the courage to ask me because I won’t ask myself. I’m listening to another playlist. I don’t have the money for Audible, but I still have Dennis Hof’s book.

His story ended years ago, but there is no shortage of tales in this world. One more reason I’m hesitant to finish Naughty Little Christmas somehow. From what I’ve read, this leads into a sequel and possibly another series. I’m more of a book traveler than a time-traveler, or I would like to believe. I want to learn something new every day, and isn’t that my rules, my writing reasons, things I’m grateful for, Lady Sophia? Indiana Gone is out there, starting a new chapter with her hubby. My other friends are moving forward, the best way they know-how. If anything, I’m stuck on the same page and that even opening my eyes is a victory. Let’s not start on my novels that are a series, and I have no idea how that happened, but the fact is I’m Alive.

How many copies of myself and Willie That’s A Series?

I Will Have No Fear

Log 207 ~Run Boy Run, Will~

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If you’re looking back, you’re not focusing on what’s in front of you, that would be a vibrating wall, violent memories of a father, very creepy messages from my internet security, no wonder I sleep but still I know. Run Boy Run, Will?

Friday, January 24, 2020

Log 207 ~Run Boy Run, Will~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, as $375.00 is nothing. Well, that’s what I keep telling myself. The humming is nothing, the horniness, the hours spent doing, well, you guessed it, Lady Sophia. If I don’t mention it enough, I’m a time-traveler. Today is Wednesday, and I don’t even remember what I’m going to post today. There’s the adrenaline that comes from FEAR of my father. What about the aching that has gone away if you know what I’m saying, right? There is also the attitude that I thought I left behind in 2019, not so much.

So what is today’s story? I couldn’t possibly be talking about Naughty Little Christmas by Lili Valente. I haven’t gone near that book in weeks, so why do I pick up my iPad? The FEAR from yesterday hasn’t gone away. If anything, I should change my name to Sinestro. I’m fighting FEAR with Fear; Norton is scaring me to death, and so I focus on the humming in the walls. I’m almost used; I’ve nearly grown to; it’s becoming normal. Yeah, Grammarly is going to have a field day with that sentence. I only wanted to show that I can’t even be me anymore without a bunch of rules. I have to stay positive with everything Indiana Gone is going through. It’s wrong to talk to Cherry any particular way. M Anime is dealing with everything. A blessing somewhat I don’t speak to Okay anymore.

I’m losing myself to their stories. Now add the fact that somebody is out there trying to steal my story, my life. How I’m “running” around, but why do I spend all my time in bed. Lady Sophia, there is no place I want to be, and so you say that’s the exact point of books. As I tell M Anime all the time, it’s a vicious circle. I exist to keep existing. My motivations would say the reason for life is to be happy. What about How to Stop Worrying and Start Living by Dale Carnegie? He says to imagine the worst-case scenario, accept it, and move on from there. I lose everything my money, my models/mistresses/many “girlfriends,” my mom, and my mutt. No offense to my son, but I’m one for alliteration as always. Anyway, I’d forfeit the life I’m sitting here complaining about this very moment Sophia.

Gulp, Run Boy Run, Will.

I Will Have No FEAR

Log 200 ~Will On The Eyes~

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If I wanted a vision board, I need only look at my Pinterest subjects, or imagine how much cash it will take for me to start talking to the Man in the Mirror, and to a bunch of NPCs, I Am Legend. “Will On The Eyes.”

Friday, January 17, 2020

Log 200 ~Will On The Eyes~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so everything I see is green, short of jealousy. When I have that kind of money, to be honest, I’ll still want more. Today though, as Faith would have it, I want to tell you a different story. The one I wished to spin you, vanished when I opened my eyes after a long nap. Here’s a random thought, you know “THEY” say a specific “ACTIVITY” will make you go blind. Fighting against my addiction takes a lot out of me as well. At least I didn’t give up. Only it was tight, almost three weeks.

Speaking of things I needed to look up, Jacob’s Mountain Armed Convoy. After I watched them go down, I looked further and found Faith’s River Armed Convoy. Next came the destruction of Joseph’s statue, and heaving his and Faith’s book off the top of it. Oh, and one more death. I’m so busy writing stories out of bullets that I haven’t seen, A Naughty Little Christmas, for a few days. It’s so hard deciding whether I’m being down on myself or stating the facts. It’s true, but if I must justify it with something good, my motion sickness isn’t stopping me. I’m also writing from bed because something the neighbors have is emitting a hum through the wall. As I said, though, I had a good nap along with my furry and healthy dæmon son.

Well, that’s what the vet tells me though he didn’t much care for those three shots they gave him. I let them write a bill for $150.00 that I signed without question. Better a doctor, than some little monkey god; is that racist, more Far Cry 5 from Hurk. The things people write and then you have to read between the lines. The president is one for the blind, except in his hotels. Blind loyalty, followers, and isn’t justice blind? Okay so that is a bit too deep for today, didn’t I want to tell you a story. I’m not censoring myself, but I have to stay on the up and up. Not only with being positive, but you know how people are in this world. I can’t tell you about how I saw some blonde cheerleader and had to leap from bed before something?

Looking into the mirror, then at Cherry, then to the floor, Will On The Eyes.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 193 ~The Best Will Ever~

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I’m still looking towards an incredible future, like that old diddy Thirteen Women (And Only One Man In Town) yeah, and one’s the subject of every novel I write, and my first poem. The Best Will Ever, yeah

Friday, January 10, 2020

Log 193 ~The Best Will Ever~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, with no one to leave my money to at this point. No, I’m not suicidal, and focusing on the positive, I’m avoiding one bad habit. Of course, you know what habit that is; I’m going on Day 13. Is that also the reason that I’m sitting at the dining room table today? When I become that NYT Bestselling Brothel Owner, I’m sure this table will be worth a fortune. I’ll also have a family besides my little dæmon, but time travel is a tricky thing, Sophia.

Talking to you is today or rather “Wednesday” I’m still two days ahead. I’m not cynical, but today is about pain Lady Sophia. You’re the one woman in my life this second that isn’t the cause. Well, I could always give you form, or did I do so, once before. I tell myself I’m a writer, so I don’t forget myself. At this rate, I could use CliffsNotes when it comes to myself. Now does that explain why I repeat myself so often, take my novels, for example. Every single story, the main “CLONE” ends up running a Cathouse in one way or another. We also have my library, which is mostly from the erotica genre. Are you noticing a pattern, Lady Sophia? Yeah, Madam Justice, Dear Future Wife, Inspector Echo, Dirty Diana, you, Lady Lu. Then there’s the man in the mirror, owner, operator.

Knowing me, I’ll end up leaving everything I have to some woman. Not my mom or my sister, though, would money change anything. Even if it did, if that’s what brought them to the fold. The fact that I can say I want a daughter gives rise to the idea that I am a good man. I want a man that could love like me, now that didn’t sound creepy at all. One more reason I write apocalyptic tales, there’s nowhere to run to in the world. Any port in a storm right Lady Sophia? Well, people love God, and he knows everything, but here I stand surrounded by people who know nothing. Brothels, a bombed-out world, and broadcasting everything to only myself. These are the elements of my stories. No wonder I tell so many from the comfort of a warm bed most nights.

It’s not my death bed Lady Sophia, that’s the point of this year. Someday I’ll be The Best Will Ever.

I Will Have No Fear