Tale 218 ~B’s Counting On V~

I don’t bitch about, ban, or burn books because they’re “woke” Is the GOP still using that word? But if I ever came close, it would be a math book. Learning to count the money I don’t have, the boy I lost, or the boobs I’ve seen. “B’s Counting On V.”

Sunday, February 4, 2024

Tale 218 ~B’s Counting On V~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror. And besides looking at yourself, there are worse things? Braxton not breathing; your bank account and numbers…

You mean numbers in general, not just money. But yesterday didn’t help matters. As Lamar put it: “Give me just enough money for a little bottle of 40 ounce and a bucket of chicken on the way to the poor house, huh?” Replace 40 with Powerade. And bucket of chicken with a bag of tacos. Uh, like, you don’t have a box of chicken in the fridge either. I swear you need a better job. But did you see the Day Job schedule? I don’t think you’ll be seeing freedom anytime soon unless you drop dead sleeping. Not economically viable.

But again, money isn’t the main issue. Hell! Between January and February… Sunday, January 31, 2021 will always be the worse. Sunday’s Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING To Be Determined… Red Rising, Possibly?
    Completed Uh, Exodus by Imogen Linn
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 000, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 007 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

How could I focus? And how will you? Do you see what day it is? Sunday, February 4, 2024, sigh. But no, we’re talking three years ago. I survived two of the worst days of this existence. But don’t worry, little brother, there are more.

Thursday, February 4, 2021: Braxton’s Cremation
Wednesday, February 10, 2021: The Collection of Braxton’s Ashes
Saturday, February 13, 2021: Braxton’s 16th birthday, now 19th
Wednesday, February 14, 2024: Valentine’s Day

Are there any more days you need to be worried about? Besides the next two weeks with the Day Job. And speaking of being a man. You need to change the air filter soon. And if you have cash, Special K’s birthday is on the 25th. Nope! Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING To Be Determined… Red Rising, Possibly?
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 007, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

You haven’t talked to your former maid in years. Hell! If you were a “certain type” of man, you could write a book. And then speak on FOX News after Special K sues you. Ha!

Oh! And books! Are we not going to talk about how you read Exodus… Again, it was not the Bible but the one with uh nuns and priests, and it was only 53 pages long. You are lazy. Only there’s still Red Rising, which is 401 pages. What are you doing with this existence? Are you waiting for Satan’s Sorority Girls 5? And while you’re doing that, you’re sleeping. Fifteen Million Merits, NXT Vengeance Day today, and The STUPID Bowl on the 11th, too. Counting the days without Braxton… with Virgil? B’s Counting On V

1099 Days Without B III, Day 540 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 026 ~Don’t B Broke Virgil~

As the song goes, “If I had just one wish, only one demand. I hope he’s not like me. I hope he understands.” Well, V’s got no pockets. And no girls have been up in here. He’s got his food. If he didn’t spend days afraid, like me. Don’t B Broke Virgil

Thursday, July 27, 2023

Tale 026 ~Don’t B Broke Virgil~

907 Days Without B III, Day 348 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Me? I’ve bawled like a baby. I’m bellowed a ton of BS. And I’m broke.

Of course, I’m time-traveling, Braxton. Today is Sunday, July 16, 2023. So a week and quite a bit of change. And not the kind I could use. If only I treated every dollar as if it made cents, ha-ha. For you, Little B. But yeah, your Dad is a liar because where’s your stuff? Braxton, you should have memorials galore. Even better… You should still be alive, B III. Hell! With all the money in the world, I doubt anything could have been done to save you. Trust the science, Pancake. However, I have read about other people’s madness. Somewhere a scientist was kidnapped because someone wanted their friend to be immortal. Another person had $1000 towards theirs. Which ain’t much by any means B.

I always said you had $1000 in insurance. But God knows for you, Braxton, I’d have gone all “John Q” to save you. And what about Virgil? He’s broke but in a much different way. A way that ain’t costing me any money. Besides a few tears for you, I’ve been bitching all day. Sorry about the language. Not like I can swear at your grandpa, or Bill come Monday. How about the Man in the Mirror, who I talked to today? Always time-traveling, B. Bringing books to life, ha. If only I had done that before. There are the ones for you, B III. I could be an exhibitionist, like you, in front of your Aunt. Showing my balls on OnlyFans and such, hmm…

Begging for more hours at the Day Job is out of the question. Little B, I blame no one for your death except myself… And that place. The rage it brought. The Hell inside me. Talk about money burning a hole in my pocket. You and Virgil are pretty lucky you don’t have pockets. You didn’t have to worry, but of course you did. You are your Dad’s son B. But Virgil? It only mattered when we didn’t have AC at all. And now I’m in the same place. Now if it were you, Little B, I wouldn’t be questioning anything. You are my son. But lacking food bellyaches, the bills I gotta pay, (spoiled) and wanting to bail on existing… Don’t B Broke Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 019 ~Virgil Learns A, B…~

Virgil never speaks unless I’m leaving. And I’d be surprised if he knew that was his name. I suppose the good news is, I’m not feeling his head with Braxton stories. I wouldn’t know how to tell them anyway. But trying. “Virgil Learns A, B…”

Thursday, July 20, 2023

Tale 019 ~Virgil Learns A, B…~

900 Days Without B III, Day 341 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Did Virgil, since I know you’re looking after him when I can’t? What’s today’s excuse?

Because yes, I am trying to get back into time travel. Today is Wednesday, July 12, 2023, Braxton. Hell! I’m as reliable as the scientists in the Theta Timeline series. Yeah, you were gone before I got to read those. I’ll have to look up Virgil’s first book. Ancient history? Now that’s something you will never be. But reading, writing? If I knew about science. With your ashes boxed on the nightstand, how could I ever bring you back, Braxton? What language am I even speaking? I’m sure my writing has only gotten worse by the time you’re reading this. That’s what I’ve been thinking about these last weeks. Writing? The word would be procrastination. Virgil’s first book, “Until We Meet Again” by Sarah-Jane Farrell.

In case you were wondering how deep my laziness goes. It’s easier to look up a book than write one. Notice, I didn’t say read because the one I’m on now is effed up immensely. Who knows what I’ll be reading when you see this? You’d know when I was really into a book Little B. Like the way I always knew you were into your Aunt. “On the floor.” I was saying something today about you and comfy spots. But not to Virgil. Silence? Braxton, I swear I’m not trying to be a loser, a meanie, or negative. I can’t get that thought out of my head. And add to it seeing all these books, reviews, anything, and everything. I just shouldn’t be talking.

Or writing? And I’ve said it so many times. All these books, and I’m not getting any wiser, I know, or don’t whatever. So what does that leave me with… MATH. I need money B. Only how many hours did I work last week and this one? All the time in the world B III. What do I do with it? I sleep. And I can only wonder what V is thinking right now, hmm. He and I don’t talk. We spend the day here if I don’t drag my pathetic ass out of bed. Except when I’m trying to walk him. Two years without you. And nearly a year with Virgil, so approaching Gotcha Day. Are we learning yet? Nope! Virgil Learns A, B…

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 012 ~2V, BIII, Will Zero~

It’s all about the numbers. The only ones I have been looking at are on the phone. A 45-minute nap? I’m sorry, 10 more minutes, no 20, how about 30? And Virgil isn’t the one right now. Why don’t I look at the hours I’m working? “2V, BIII, Will Zero.”

Thursday, July 13, 2023

Tale 012 ~2V, BIII, Will Zero~

893 Days Without B III, Day 334 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing as how, I’m speaking to you on Sunday, July 9, 2023. My day was…

Well, whatever, I would say B, with whatever app I’m on. I’m simplistic, senile, and STUPID. I hate my age right now. And it’s scary to think that I wish with all my time travel. If I could go back in time, before your death, before we met… Existence, Living? Hell! Plop me down in any ole math class, and let me start over again. I need to try B. Anyway, we’ll mark today as another failure in doing anything. And by the time you read this… These days I want to cuddle up close to you and blabber away. Of course, I can’t do that with Virgil right now. Nor would I want to. He got in trouble anyway. Braxton, you remember those days.

As you can see, I’m still counting yours at 893. Harder days are coming. And I don’t mean like you humping your toys. That monster hair dryer or stick of dynamite of yours, B III. That reminds me that I should pick that up. Some toys Virgil shouldn’t inherit, Braxton. Why am I being so “mean” to him these days? He’s my second chance. And didn’t I save his life? It’s all about the number Little B. And 334 days in, to be honest, we have yet to bound at all. I am trying to walk him more. I’m uncomfortable with his leash and collar. So that must mean I care some. I don’t want him running off. And if he were to get hurt?

Money is the root of all evil. But it is also my biggest concern with all this time off, Braxton. Well, next to crying about you. Better my tears than anything else. I’ve lost track of those and other things I should be ashamed of. Unscheduled lunches, napping. Anything to avoid the world of the living. It’s sad that it even includes Virgil, Braxton. Again walking around the backyard like the living dead or infected to avoid reading, ha. More dead fur babies or whatever Kindle thing popped up. There’s no money for books. But I have plenty right in front of me. Uh, two I wrote for you. I can’t count them as wins. Well, if I edited, published… Scoreboard! 2V, BIII, Will Zero

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 014 ~B III And More~

Day XV now, and am I doing any better when it comes to my boy? I wouldn’t be asking that. If I had been 165 days ago? Yeah, Roman numerals aren’t my strong suit. I only needed to count to III before. Now I need 50,000 words for “B III And More.”

Thursday, July 15, 2021

Chronicle 014 ~B III And More~

165 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Sometimes I envy you not having to worry about what time it is, well until…

15 years 11 months. All you know is one day, there was a whole carton of fries for you and a bit of a burger. If your aunt was here, maybe she would make you a cake. Did I tell you I had lunch with her last week? I guess she didn’t want to make me too sad B III. That day she barely said your name Braxton, but I don’t blame her. As I said, you were a month shy of 16, and you would think I could give you this month. It was too fresh, last Camp NaNoWriMo, but I still got 50,000 words done. Now I’m lazy with 16 days to go. Braxton, I would apologize, but if I do that today…

Why only today? I have been telling you I’m sorry going on 165 Days with you gone. Hell 166 if we count the day that you left. I’m at the dining room table, and you’re not here, Braxton, on your pillow under it, waiting for me. What I wouldn’t give to speak to you B. Well, the COVID vaccine is free, or so I keep hoping. If I were to die… A dangerous concept I know, thinking about dying and all. Three needles helped you on your way, one to make sure, two to bring you peace, and the third sent you to the Rainbow Bridge. I got two Braxton. On that day, I said that “I got to Braxton.” I didn’t want your suffering.

You would have pretended always and forever if it stopped me from feeling this way. I’ve long since passed counting up the days from one stage of grief to the next. Only I’m never going to go into five. How could that ever be possible? Packing up your things B? Have you been watching me read The Man That Watched The World End? Ironic since I am that guy. You were about 79, and with how tired I’ve been, 82 sounds about right? Um, my point is, there is no way in Hell I could burn your stuff. B III they did burn you, yep. Wish I was there, Braxton. So yeah, another apology, how many is that which do nothing B III And More.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Gospel 189 ~Don’t Count On Will~

Being a black man in America, I’m not a statistic… I got up early, six instead of ten, you can thank my furbaby for that. The stimulus came through yesterday but besides my kid, my day job, and car people where’s the money going? Don’t Count On Will.

Wednesday, January 6, 2021

Gospel 189 ~Don’t Count On Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which must mean I hate you. Well, I don’t think that way about you, Inspector Echo, or any of the other girls. Okay, so the Man in the Mirror, but as I’ve been saying ad nauseam, it’s a New Year. I’m working on myself… I’m trying. The thing is, I’m asking myself, am I too late? If it isn’t the money, then it’s been my age these days. I’m 36, and if I were to tell you all the things I haven’t done, even this morning. As the song goes, “Time, time, time. See what’s become of me.” Money, Age, Time…

I could wrap that all around my favorite subject in the whole wide world. Well, after my Dæmon, of course. Looks like my Imp’s going to get that vet appointment anyway. Geez, right after I got my stimulus payment. Republican Idiocracy tendencies, “I Like Money.”

Okay, so my favorite subject, I swear I have missed out on so much. When it comes to… well, how do I say this and remain a nice guy? Again I support artists and, in the same breath, thieves. Even with the motherlode of “artwork,” I’ve I miss out on galleries, gathering, and grabbing up all I can. Do you remember after the last Pinterest Suspension/Purge, I was upset about a specific board I lost? I found a few pieces of it the other day but not the whole thing. I would say I find nothing more annoying but that would make me a liar. It’s like finding the perfect “movie” and not being able to download it. How about what happened to such and such a website? What about being so anxious for something and then having it snatched away with fear? Mine… hers?

“A half-read book is a half-finished love affair.’” Cloud Atlas

I feel like Nicolas Cage/Yuri Orlov; I’m always five minutes too early or five minutes late. Being black, I was taught to be early always. As for being a man, I was taught “nice guys finish last” (12 Days, fingers crossed). I’m forever a day late, a dollar short, that is if I want something. I hate being late for the Day Job. Now I love my Dæmon like pancakes, but I got out of bed not by “force of will” but because my son needed me, meds, cleaning, potty.

Hate has my number, but love… Don’t Count On Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 182 ~Humiliation’s A Number Will~

One day I swear I’m going to sit in a room and type all day, pocket my cash, and send an army of mercs to silence anybody sending me spam… well, that got dark pretty quickly. “Humiliation’s A Number Will,” and next year I want it to be zero

Wednesday, December 30, 2020

Gospel 182 ~Humiliation’s A Number Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so um, I still hate Math? Considering I’ve taken no sick days or vacation days. There’s the concept of dinner around here, becoming a big event. I have a yearly eye exam, which is the extent of my medical care. Yep, I still hate my teeth. Okay, say it with me, “This Is America,” how about I am a “Real American.” You’ll have to excuse me, Inspector Echo. The Stimulus Talk and my usual complaints, numbers have been on my brain. With enough cash, humiliation doesn’t matter, enough not to count.

Let’s start with me and My Dæmon. I’m 36, goddammit, my son’s 15. Now I’m trying to stay clean, Inspector Echo when I talk to you, but I’ll put the question out there. When’s the last time I’ve had sex? Meanwhile is the Dæmon living the life, meds, food, yes… However, he could have more, but where’s the money going? Let’s say I’m “supporting” three artists. Depends on how you define art. I can’t tell you how much I’ve spent on the random “expressions.” Or how about the money that went towards “Capital A” SIGH. Well, make more money, you say; how long have I been at the Day Job? Nine years, Inspector, taking orders. And each and every day there, I’m either depressed, destructive or damned. What about all the money I paid to not publish a book now?

I mentioned Capital A, but how many women have stopped talking to me this year alone? I’m going to say three, but even that’s a shot in the dark. Better to keep my mouth shut, but tomorrow, of course, is The Closing of the Year. Pop Culture is much served. While fighting off my addictions. You know within Six Impossible Things, “5 Days” so far. Doing everything to keep my mind occupied, and you see how that’s going. Remember, I had to wipe my phone of such and such, still leaving six thousand pictures altogether. Again I think about writing three NaNoWriMos between two camps and November. Four hundred words daily for the year is around 146,000 or nearly three NaNoWriMos. Not one dollar earned doing what I love still.

Before I forget, two Pinterest accounts are gone. Another “explicit” account wrecked. More sugar daddy/momma accounts blocked between Whisper and Goodreads. Big numbers Inspector Echo still Humiliation’s A Number Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 201 ~Four A Free Will~

If I came with a label, it would be “FORE,” although that would mean I’m getting a lot more fresh air, and I’ve been in bed except for taking care of my four-legged son, walks and a vet visit. Four A Free Will, add a wife, and another child

Saturday, January 18, 2020

Log 201 ~Four A Free Will~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and even four billion wouldn’t be enough. Does that mean by next year I will be saying I AM a Trillionaire right now? Spellcheck doesn’t even recognize the word. Million, Billion, Trillion, and where did I hear that comedy comes in three’s? Also, My Dæmon has three names, the same as the rest of us. I know you’re saying wait a minute, “Lady Luna,” but I’m here to talk about fours, not two. How I believed four was a lucky number.

By tomorrow (today’s Thursday), it will have been three weeks since I started fighting my addiction. I’m looking forward to the fourth week, though, the month, even the year. So I am looking forward to beating Far Cry 5, John, Jacob, Faith, and Joseph Seed. I’ve told the story about why I chose four as my number. You remember a certain girl in high school and also junior college. Group #4 and how I started writing about her, and needless to say, I’m a college dropout. Not depressed again only a fact, now I can’t count how many hours I have spent in this bed. My four-legged firstborn has been hanging around. Still, a tad upset with getting three shots. I also asked them to cut his nails so four bad things he would consider.

Four is a simpler number than a billion. I still remember when I offered MILF Dos $400.00 to “Get Naked” as the song goes. Let’s say I work out better deals that The Commander and Chief.” Then again “FORE” I am a warning I mean Will’s Writings, Witticisms, Wisdom? I could tell you three things I like about my addiction and then add in a fourth. But again, I always have to post, well except for Thursday. Wouldn’t that be the fifth day of the week but the fourth business day? I sound like something off of Sesame Street, but you know how I am with numbers. On any given workday, I would consider four hours of sleep to be a good thing. Last night I got a fourth gun slot in Far Cry 5, notice I can say slots, holsters, placements. I’m staying on the up and up, but if I started talking holes?

My paycheck gets split into four different places every week that I should look in on, Four A Free Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 044 ~The Shape Of Will~

Last week I spoke a bit of looking down, and it seems like I’m still doing that, whether it be my phone, naughty books, or my wallet; hip to be square or more like a rectangle, not the worse of all shapes though. The Shape Of Will

Wednesday, August 14, 2019

Log 044 ~The Shape Of Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM A Millionaire right now, but not a star. Can’t say I miss Super Mario because my princess is always in another castle. There’s also the fact that I’m not feeling powerful. Where was I supposed to be at this moment in my life? Now if anything I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Should I apologize for ripping my heart out? I’ve been much too busy looking “down there” at the moment. At least it’s still in my pants, but it’s getting hard and pretty damn embarrassing; okay stopping.

Let’s get to what has me bent out of shape. Video games should be fun and a way to relax, right. I like Heavy Rain and all, but yes I’m out of practice and out of shape. Shaking that controller this way, and that has me breathing hard. At least it’s better than watching other people play. So what about watching other people fuck (LANGUAGE)? The first week is always the hardest, like any rehab. Still NoFap but not even hiding the fact that I’m watching porn. Hell Inspector Echo I wasn’t lasting three days when I was abstaining or trying at least. As for the “real” thing, I didn’t cave into the cosplayer. I’m still waiting to hear from Alice. I even started looking for a new “maid,” talk about a business opportunity SIGH.

As the song goes, it’s hip to be square. Only again, Heavy Rain isn’t helping; I saw Madison’s boobs. I’m reading another Tillie Cole book, “Raphael.” Should have learned from “Sick Fux” the author loves the taboo. Now If I could only go back to the nights of softcore porn watching. Inspector Echo, my life’s a cycle, a circle if you will; wake up, conversation, pretend to live. My son and I are in a rut. These are his golden years he should be enjoying himself. I keep saying I’ll give him everything but a million dollars in two weeks? Yes, I am ashamed of myself, there’s no way around it Inspector Echo. Could it be a love triangle? Yes, Tupac got around but as for myself. From the MILF to Mr. International, to the Stars. Yesterday I even went back to some erotic gaming.

So I am sorry life has me so warped and twisted. These past two weeks have been, again hard. I’m finding The Shape Of Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 037 ~Standing With A Willie~

A great man once sang “stand up for your rights,” and someone else said if you won’t stand for something; well these two legs can take me places but my eyes are looking down, though things get an inevitable rise out of me. Standing With A Willie

Wednesday, August 7, 2019

Log 037 ~Standing With A Willie~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM A Millionaire right now, and no my mind isn’t in the gutter. Okay, truth be told another cosplayer “Jada Jinxx.” We’ll get to the begging portion of the program soon enough. Today I want to talk about courage, the strength to stand. Hard when you can’t stand the man in the mirror; neither can they.

Up against the wall mother; yes, I looked that up. That’s how I was at work today, nowhere to go and nothing to do there. So I redid two of the walls of hanging crap, paintings, metal décor, etc. Staring at the wall meant I didn’t have to look at people. Not that I could even if I wanted to anyway. My eyes are conscientious objectors in this war for my life. On the other hand, they could be living in 3017. That’s me looking at the dirt or how long it would take me to find courage. Is it any wonder I write dystopias? How about the only life after death, I believe in is zombies? Anyway, so I’m working from one wall to the next. I’m getting all these backstabbers complimenting behind my back. Like I’m any better; should have seen me yesterday. Someone knocked on my door, and I had my knife behind me, saving people time.

You know for finding reasons to fire me at some point. In writing Inspector Echo, I’m an army of one. Army, again look at the title. I was channeling Ellie Goulding’s song. I wish I could say I had someone I counted on with all my heart. Yes of course B III but let’s look at humans. My “father” that’s more predatory dominance. I feel like less of a real man, depending on him. There, of course, is the job I despise. If I lose it, I’ll be wandering the desert with my dick in my hands (LANGUAGE). So yes this morning, the man in the mirror, well the shower SIGH. I’m still with NO FAP but the things I was thinking. There, now we can talk about the new girl or the others rolling around in my brain. Closing my eyes but still staring at a wall or the floor, Let’s say TWD is chock full of hot women.

Damn all these beautiful girls as the song goes, oh and work. Missed a huddle but Standing With A Willie.

I Will Have No Fear