Tag: Overflow

Meditation 316 ~Virgil, I’ll B Saying~

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The last time I had to send Virgil to Braxton’s Room was because of a storm. He’s not one to control his bladder. And he could lose his sh*t. Speaking of which, the things that I say. I miss Braxton. I love sex, I’m afraid. Virgil, I’ll B Saying

Tuesday, May 13, 2025

Meditation 316 ~Virgil, I’ll B Saying~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? More than my boys? I plead the 5th. My love, I’m not that lying Trump.

I have my soft and hard limits, but may I never be as vulgar, vindictive, or vicious as those of MAGA. And yet one of my sons, Braxton, saw Trump’s end… Virgil sees Trump 2.0.

But no, I don’t want to talk about politics today, Monday, May 12, 2025. Or ever. But we have no choice in the matter. As I have no choice but to keep loving Braxton. Always.

And Virgil? I don’t love him as much as Braxton. Later V, Later Virgil as opposed to Love ya B, Love ya Braxton. And look at me crying again. It’s not only because of Braxton. Mother’s Day has been pretty HARD till now. And OH MY GOD, we’ll get to that. Only, I miss Braxton.

Would you rather listen to me cry over him love or sweat over you? Mourning or Moaning? Grieving or Grunting? Wiping my tears or Whipping my… Must I be gross?

“Should I say it out loud?

Yeah, I should. You can’t heal something unless you’re brave enough to say it out loud.

I’m scared, though. I’m scared to say it… which is why I have to.”
The Last of Us

Love, if anything, as Roger sang, “I Want To Be Your Man.” I need “Sexual Healing,” as Marvin Gaye spectacularly put it. What’s better than making Love “Between The Sheets.”

My boy isn’t the only one that can put together a playlist. But we’d have to send Braxton, Virgil, and our two-legged rugrats to bed. Especially considering who I want to be with you. Annoying? I can be that too, but at least I’m not crying anymore, but you, darling.

Well, I want to effing “Tear You Apart.” Because “You get me closer to God.”

And that’s the truth, “I Wanna Eff You.” But not only because I love you more than anything. (Braxton looks down on me from Heaven). I don’t have alternative facts; I have ADDITIONAL facts. Effing MAGA! Anyway, my love, I’m afraid. Yes, I’m worried, but it’s FEAR, my love. And it has begun to overwhelm me. But I’m “Just A Man.” A man provides, protects, and pets puppies. But Braxton isn’t here anymore. And a man isn’t supposed to call on a woman for help, but who else is there. My Ma? Anyone at all?

Love, I don’t know what to do. WHATEVER IT TAKES! I sound like one of my motivations, or Captain America. So what’s next. I have Virgil. Virgil, I’ll B Saying.

1563 Days Without B III, Day 1004 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 310 ~Virgil Doesn’t Eat B’s~

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One more day, I haven’t been humiliated… Uh, fact-to-face. I’m sure somebody in their car wondered if I had any control over Virgil. That’s why we go out early before everything gets busy, like the bees. Or M Anime’s dreams. “Virgil Doesn’t Eat B’s.”

Wednesday, May 7, 2025

Meditation 310 ~Virgil Doesn’t Eat B’s~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Not to mention humiliated. But according to all the motivational speeches I listen to. Let’s begin with gratitude.

Virgil woke up alive and well, and we went for a walk. And he has had his breakfast. The only “adult entertainment” I’ve consumed was reading about Eddie and Ibseth from “Backyard Dungeon 17.” Oh, speaking of dungeons, the back fence hasn’t fallen. Not yet.

So that’s the good news. As long as I stay off social media, I should be fine. Uh, the phone?

To think Samsung had problems. Like the song plays, “I got 99 problems but a…”

Anyway, I owe Braxton’s favorite girl a birthday present, his grandma a hello, and his stepmom an apology. Didn’t I say something about adult entertainment? Also, I’d stop calling M Anime, Braxton, and Virgil’s stepmom. SIGH. “She drives me crazy, and I can’t help myself.”

While finishing the “Backyard Dungeon 17” sample, I got antsy about M Anime… Her latest nightmare, I mean. So, I was busy copying it to read on my Kindle. What, I need free books? Always. I haven’t had any… Uh, self-fulfillment in three days. Her dreams/short stories will do it.

And as I told her, my dreams are pretty dull by comparison. She has General Xu, Associate, and The Boss. I swear, I’ve never been one for reverse harem romances.

Inspector, my dreams have been dull, and my stories, if disgusting, are the same. Writing. It doesn’t pay, not yet. And I haven’t been dreaming about my boys. I’m giving Braxton a break to play on the Rainbow Bridge. And Virgil is very much alive.

So it’s great he doesn’t eat bees or anything like that. Because I couldn’t afford to save him. Life is telling me that. My dreams share that sentiment. The last one I remember was something out of World War Z. The crappy movie. It was that scene where the girl rattled off the code to Brad Pitt to get into a room full of viruses. But I was saying my locker combo at my Day Job, which feels the same. Can’t I do anything original, Inspector Echo? V can’t eat the ABCs. And I’m living off of pizza rolls until payday. After last week, ha!

As Paramore put it, Hard Times. No cash, thinking of Yabbos, or walking going nowhere. Thankfully. Virgil Doesn’t Eat B’s

1557 Days Without B III, Day 998 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 309 ~Virgil’s B In Language~

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I tell B I love him every day. But I don’t know about the reception on the Rainbow Bridge. I tell V, “Later.” I tell him I’ll be back and that he’s staying. I rescued him. And they’re potential stepmom. What I said to her. Virgil’s B In Language

Tuesday, May 6, 2025

Meditation 309 ~Virgil’s B In Language~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But as Snow Patrol sings, “Those three words are said too much. They’re not enough.”

How do I know? Despite how much my Old Man paid my way, I hate him. My firstborn son, Braxton, died. And I could say it to my secondborn son, Virgil. But I hate lying.

Always and forever, there’s you, my love. There is the family we created together. And you know me, a beast with a beat. “Havin’ my baby. What a lovely way of sayin’ how much you love me.” That’s all you because I highly doubt Braxton would send me such a song. If he were here today, his four little legs would run circles around his two-legged siblings to keep them safe. Virgil would be quieter than them, easy. Long story.

Love can be quiet or loud. It’s a difficult language.

And since I’m reminiscing about people, places, and even pieces of myself I hate. LEARN.

I’m constantly having to relearn how to love myself. Love, I am The Walking Dead. However, I’m not saying that because today is Sunday, May 4, 2025. So we both know, um, Tuesday, May 6, 2025, is going to suck. Oh, we’ll get to the sucking. Uh, ew. Uh, lovers.

Watch my mouth? Again, we’ll get to that. I say the most horrible things, and we’re not a religious household. But love, Jesus had it easy. If we skip the torture, he just died, love.

My Ma would say he died to save us. And I live? Not because I particularly care to do so. That’s my love language. STAYING.

Again, from a biblical context, Jesus came back. God is love. Dog is love, and my B III, “I said he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus,” as The Killers put it. However, “My Goddess.”

Um. Did we put the kids to bed four-legged, two-legged, and all? Okay, dearest love.

Purely in a Shakespearean meets The Pretty Reckless type of way, “You make me wanna die.” Hear me out, my love. My grief brings me closer to my son, B. Not really, but that’s what I’m going with. Being with you brings me closer in a way to dying. Seriously? Neither of us is Rihanna, but “Sex with Me,” sex with you, I tell myself, “I guess I die another day.” Virgil’s B In Language.

“I think I’ll find another way
There’s so much more to know
I guess I’ll die another day
It’s not my time to go

For every sin, I’ll have to pay
I’ve come to work, I’ve come to play
I think I’ll find another way
It’s not my time to go.”
Die Another Day

1556 Days Without B III, Day 997 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 303 ~Braxton, Virgil, Have WRITES~

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“Now, did you read the news today?” Sorry, but no. The Genesis of America is that things get worse. Modernized but worse. It leads to a friend’s bad dreams. But we compared ourselves to Winston and Julia. Classic reading. Braxton, Virgil, Have WRITES

Wednesday, April 30, 2025

Meditation 303 ~Braxton, Virgil, Have WRITES~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Though I woke up this morning, uh, not feeling that way. Not good, not bad. Super, super (super!)

Listen to the song “Teen Idle,” and you’ll get it. But who knows? Maybe you won’t. It’s the same thing with my writing. And didn’t I tell myself I was going to be positive today?

What can I say? Old habits die hard. I have a thing for sisters in pigtails and bikinis. Uh, Ew! And then there are the rules. My rules. Do you remember, Dear Madam Justice, Echo?

Do you remember Rule Fifteen, I Take My Own Lumps? ONE of the things that rule means is that I take responsibility and accountability, and pay my own way. Big bill? Inspector, yes, it was a VERY big bill that I handled. If I take care of myself, Braxton, and Virgil, “we gon’ be alright.”

But Braxton isn’t alright. He lives in books now, Inspector. I’m trying to remain positive. And I also read that I went a week without any self-fulfillment. Sisters, Pigtails, Bikinis…

“I’m sorry, I just need one minute to make sure I look good. Do you think I look good, Mr. Armstrong?” ― The Cleveland Show

Yes, my dear Echo, that’s all it took to break me. But I did enjoy my streak while it lasted. And Virgil was already in Braxton’s room. I swear he’s communing with B III’s spirit.

Meanwhile, I’d usually be drooling over pictures of Cherry’s Yabbos or the confession she wrote once upon a time. And speaking of writing, Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom has been doing plenty of that lately. Again, I shouldn’t be calling M Anime the stepmom. But um…

Inspector, I swear M Anime is trying to send me a message through her writing.

So yeah, you are not Lady Sophia. I leave books and edits to her. But M Anime first wrote about a fictional first time in a brothel. That led to “Nightmare At The Meat Market.” She asked about Cherry’s sexual characterizations, and so I shared “The Eve of A Cherry.”

With that, she told me about another dream. Sex? Xu? “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” And most recently, she shared her “dream” of her and The Associate having sex. Wow!

So what does it mean when a woman is having “Sexxx Dreams” and compares her partners to you? Book boyfriend material? Anyway, as long as I ignore the news, I’m reading plenty of good things. Erotic books, bills paid, streak before… Braxton, Virgil, Have WRITES

1550 Days Without B III, Day 991 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 302 ~Room After B, Virgil~

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To be a man and a Dad, one must “Make Room, Make Room!” I don’t know if B has only taken up more space since his death or if there is so little left of me. V needs space, too. And yet I step forward only to ask myself. Where to? Room After B, Virgil.

Tuesday, April 29, 2025

Meditation 302 ~Room After B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Every little step I take, you will be there. But I’m not Bobby Brown. I’m…

That’s the thing, my love. I want to say, “All Yours.” But I’m not one to shy away from the truth. And while I’m constantly asking myself where I am going, It’s where I am.

“Where you gonna go, where you gonna run, where you gonna hide? Nowhere… ’cause there’s no one like you left.” — Carol Malone, Body Snatchers (1993)

Darling, I have never left the last place I saw my boy on Sunday, January 31, 2021. There was Braxton, in his own bed on a vet’s table, looking at me to do something, save him, or spare him any more pain. My boy wanted to stay. And since he couldn’t, I have. That is the truth. It could be a new definition of love. At its most simplistic, love means you before me. By that logic, I do love Virgil, too. But the concept that one would only stay.

Baby Doll, I could give you a whole playlist on that “Stay With Me” “If I lay here. If I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world?” “We were made to never fall away.” You can thank B for that last one. “You’re coming back for me.” Damn right!

However, this is the rub. How can I return to a place that I have never left? Where am I?

We are in a dream. I still see us on a beach somewhere. Our two-legged kids ran along in the sand and waves. Little Braxton pulled with all his might to keep them from the water. And you are pulling me and trying to get me to join you. Where?

Again, I don’t know. A man is supposed to lead, but I would rather follow my boy or have you, my love, follow my rules. One of those reasons is “chains and whips excite me,” ha-ha! You know how I’ve been feeling about money these days. Building our “Red Room.”

More like I wanted to “Paint It Black.” Like all the ink along the pages of the books I write. I read something last night and to see the dark lusts, depravity, and desires. Love? Honestly, it could go either way. Let’s say all the dark places in women that men yearn to go, my love. Because with you, at least, I’m moving forward in a Kama Sutra way, baby.

Love? Room After B, Virgil.

Even if you leave this room, you can never leave this room.
— from 1408 (2007)

1549 Days Without B III, Day 990 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 296 ~Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil~

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I didn’t plan on being a Dad. And I can’t count on being a husband. Last I saw, I was $3,000 in the hole. Showing a bunch of anime holes or writing about lady parts equals a whole lot of nothing. My boys need to eat. “Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil.”

Wednesday, April 23, 2025

Meditation 296 ~Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… But no, I haven’t knocked up Braxton and Virgil’s future stepmom. I should stop calling “M Anime” that.

“Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love.”
― Andrew Davidson from The Gargoyle

I didn’t plan on having a son. I didn’t plan on my Braxton. I didn’t plan on being a Dad. But one night, my father walks in with this little ball of fluff. And though I had begged for a dog for years… There’s this tiny thing being flopped into my sister’s hands. My Neo.

That’s what I called him anyway. My Ma quickly changed it to Braxton. But to me, he would always be “The ONE.” And because my sister knew how to make a life. And “I am an equal opportunity misanthrope.” “Here I Am”: Father, Friend, and Fiend. Because I never planned on killing him. But I survived. I learned. And I’ve never forgiven myself, either. I dream, plan, and do nothing.

So that’s why I’m here Monday, April 21, 2025, financially effed. I should have followed.

Who, Braxton? “Too Little Too Late,” as the Barenaked Ladies sing. We’ll get to that. Today, there’s Virgil. 984 days ago, he wasn’t here. Hell! Braxton was very much alive on Tuesday, October 20, 2020, when Virgil was born. Three months later, my Braxton passed.

How much did it cost for tests and trying to keep him alive? “It Doesn’t Matter.” But when was the last check I got over one hundred dollars? And now Virgil’s vet visit, security, and the fact we need to eat… I didn’t plan on seeing forty or on trying to be Virgil’s hero. SIGH

He needs a father. I need to be a man.

Please! I don’t know the first thing about being a man. I’ve got man parts. And what was I doing with that hardware before coming here and talking to you, E? Trying not to come.

Talk about blasphemy because I was the same way on Easter Sunday. Whether it was M Anime’s nightmare that I’m writing “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” There are thoughts of Cherry’s huge vanilla Yabbos. Then such and such posted Megumi and Ayami from “Ecchi na Onee-Chan ni Shiboraretai,” so I had to cut up their episodes. But this led me to two more sisters I was moaning about in the bathroom. Filming OnlyFans? Nope. “Don’t know why I didn’t come.” “Mama told me not to come.” Braxton Wasn’t Planned, Virgil.

1543 Days Without B III, Day 984 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 295 ~No B In Sharing~

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Manners! Language! You talk too much! Should I say more about my furry kid? Four years gone. Or what about the walk with his little brother on a rainy morning? Money woes. Manuscripts that will never be published. Manhood. My Evils. “No B In Sharing”

Tuesday, April 22, 2025

Meditation 295 ~No B In Sharing~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Enough to SHARE my life with you. Or give it. Oh, to be so noble.

Missing my Braxton, I could be a modern-day samurai. Committing Seppuku? No. That would only dishonor my firstborn son, you, my love, and our family. What? You didn’t think I only studied Japanese Adult Anime. Would you instead have me share more about B III?

Money has also become a concern. I was talking to my Ma the other day and wanted to share with her that I am afraid. A man provides for his family. Husband and father. “What Kind of Man Would I Be,” to admit that I’m afraid I can’t give you and our kids everything you want and need. But I wouldn’t be a good one. “What Makes a Good Man?”

Manuscripts full of bad ones. I was reading “My Writing.”

Yesterday, I kept getting the same response from “the critics.” I share far too much.

Truthful, yes, but too much. There’s “No Hope Left.” Apparently, I can’t say such things. I didn’t tell Braxton that as I watched him die. I don’t tell Virgil that when we walk every day. He needs to believe in a better world. A better me. What about myself, love?

Looking at myself in the mirror, I inevitably say, “I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend.” But what’s the truth? I want to tell the worst things, my Dirty Little Secret.

Braxton was euthanized Sunday, January 31, 2021, because I failed him. I don’t know how to reach Virgil. And I wish I was never born.

Because I am afraid. “It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” So why not share my sins with you? The things I have never done. Is it effed up that I think about this, like sharing food with my boys? Braxton eating hot dogs, and Virgil has pizza bites. You love?

I get off on the idea of watching you with someone being “ravished.” Cuckoldry vs Netorare (NTR). There’s a book in the closet, “Ravishment: The Dark Side of Erotic Fantasy” by Desmond Ravenstone. I’ve been excited by nonfiction violation stories. Exhibitionism is something I’d explore with you. My Sadism. Fear brings out my depravity. I share this with you because telling myself, my boys, I’ve failed. No B In Sharing.

1542 Days Without B III, Day 983 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 289 ~Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil~

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I’ll read and/or write anything today, as I’m not checking the mailbox. And I don’t want to read about dogs in distress… Uh, half my Kindle is Pet Loss books. Disregard females and acquire currency. Ah, writing. “Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil.”

Wednesday, April 16, 2025

Meditation 289 ~Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… Considering this conversation is on Tuesday, April 8, 2025, how do I know. I’m living three to five.

What are those sins? In no particular order, Braxton is dead; I have thoughts on big Yabbos, and like MAGA… And make no mistake, Inspector, I despise MAGA. Eff DJT! Anyway, like MAGA, I give into IGNORANCE and HATE. But what rivals my son? FEAR!

Is it a sin to live in fear? Yes! Because of FEAR, I’m not the man I should be, Inspector. Existing… Living in FEAR is disrespectful of my Braxton’s life. The little brave dog he was. And I’m not the Dad I must be for his brother Virgil. I swear what I’ve thought up, E.

I saw a message about a distressed dog, and I thought the neighbors were talking about my Virgil. But it’s much further up the street.

I hope… Yes, I hope. But what do I hope for the most today? Other than B III beating death.

I want to be… I am a writer. Wimp, womanizer, and worthless but writing Inspector. That’s what we’re going to talk about today. The books “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” “The Eve Of A Cherry,” and “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” These are not just titles; they are my struggles and my desires. My darkness, Inspector. As I said last week, you’re no librarian or editor, but the inspiration of Yabbos trumps my fears, Inspector… For now. But today, all I ask is for creativity, originality, and time. More sins.

“The Eve Of A Cherry” we talked about last week in Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~. And it is about as original as talking about an English girl’s Yabbos can be. I discovered “Fake Driving Lessons” and “Fake Taxi” due to Cherry and her lovely mum. But… again, I began working on that story after so many years because of another muse of mine.

“Nightmare At The Meat Market” was all M Anime’s doing. Funny, both she and Cherry are writers. I know how to pick ’em, don’t I, Inspector? But Cherry shared dreams, and M Anime has nightmares… They just so happen to be the hottest things ever.

“Cries Come Women, Come Country” is M Anime’s recent nightmare. Or so that’s the title I chose. Long story short, a resistance soldier is captured and is used as a “comfort woman” for a general. But where are my son’s novels? Braxton’s Shelved Elsewhere, Virgil.

1536 Days Without B III, Day 977 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 288 ~Love’s A B, Virgil~

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I’m sure I’ll turn to look at the love of my life in bed and then down at my feet and mutter, “Son of a B.” Not in an Eddie Murphy/Marcus Graham sort of way from Boomerang. It’s because B isn’t resting there. V’s trying his best. “Love’s A B, Virgil”

Tuesday, April 15, 2025

Meditation 288 ~Love’s A B, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? Something you and Braxton have in common. The reason I’ve been playing the song “Jumper.”

“I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that you’ve been living in
And if you do not want to see me again
I would understand.”
Third Eye Blind

Must I always jump to memories of my firstborn son, Braxton, who died long ago, long ago, long ago. Four long years, and still, I linger on that first minute. I love it and him.

Only I’m quick to jump onto some mattress with you. Or anywhere, for that matter. Love and lust. Dare I say I might actually like not feeling so sad all the time? I’ll take love over war. As I’ll take Sadism over Masochism. Are those dirty words? If you have read what I have been typing lately in novels. Again, if I sound like anything from Jumper, then be worried.

But Virgil’s here, along with our other children, so you and I, my love, won’t be jumping or bouncing soon.

Son of a B! Am I mad, grieving, horny as the Devil himself. I’m confused and depraved, and even when I wake up, the first thing I think of is that I’ve had enough. Hence, Jumper playing. If only love…

You know what stops me? My son B, B III, Little B, Braxton. I was once… Dad of a B. However, to love like that again, there are no words because there aren’t any answers.

How many words are in the English language again? And I was working with a writer the other day on one of many stories; “The Eve of a Cherry,” “Nightmare At The Meat Market,” and “Cries Come Women, Come Country.” The third is an Erotic Horror War Thriller. And thinking of all the horrible things I put in that synopsis. Honestly, is that what love is to me? Is it making someone feel horrible? Like me 24/7. You’re still here.

“In my trials
And my tribulations
Through our doubts
And frustrations
In my violence
In my turbulence
Through my fear
And my confessions
In my anguish and my pain
Through my joy and my sorrow
In the promise of another tomorrow.”
Will You Be There

My Braxton is not here. But he loved me when I had no earthly or divine idea of how to love myself. And I could honor him by loving myself the way he loved me. The way he chose to love me when he should have been a furball locked away in my sister’s purse.

And that’s why I hear his voice, his bark now. The words “I love you” should mean something. But there are other words… Braxton says, “Don’t be afraid.” You tell me, “Whatever you want.” Virgil and the other kids call me “Daddy.” Myself? “Tomorrow’s gonna suck.” Love’s A B, Virgil

1535 Days Without B III, Day 976 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~

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For once, I’m not crying, complaining, or considering I’m not the best father for my boys B and V. My sons are better men and good dogs. As for me? I claimed slothfulness earlier. And now I’m writing. Is that what I call it? Virgil Has Tales, Braxton

Wednesday, April 9, 2025

Meditation 282 ~Virgil Has Tales, Braxton~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… And while you are my judge, jury, and executioner. What you are not is a librarian or editor.

You are an investigator, my Inspector Echo. And I am a writer. Laughs hysterically, Ha! Can’t I see what day it is? Wednesday, April 2, 2025? But as I told you earlier this morning, the Day Job called. And Braxton and Virgil wouldn’t care to hear about it. Or books…

The Eve of a Cherry is one of the books I want to talk about today. Why? Do you want to hear me grieve more about Braxton or say something unkind about little Virgil Vivi?

Thought so! But The Eve of a Cherry is criminality, wanting to be flattery. And I need a refresher, considering M Anime asked for it. Her nightmare inspired “Nightmare at the Meat Market.” Cherry inspired “The Eve of a Cherry.”

Cherry Roslyn Fae is a murderess, offing the lovers of a man, Cade Xavier Cosgrove. He runs to America, and Cherry’s mother, Anna Cecilia Fae, hoping to avoid the law, flees with Cherry to the States. Both Mum and daughter fall into the hands of Father Bridgeman and The Moondust organization and Bridgman’s pseudo-son, the Boy. Forced into several (adult situations) to cover their crimes, both Cherry and Anna attempt to avoid ending up dead and further deviance and depravity. Only in the end… Uh, The Eve of a Cherry.

Does that pique your interest, Inspector? I sent the whole thing to Cherry, and… crickets.

She’s talking to me again; this was years ago. But of course, I still have my Day Job. My writing…

And now, M Anime is becoming quite the writer herself. Remember Triond? But Inspector… Words!

“Nightmare At The Meat Market” stars Sofía Ana Acosta, a retail employee stalked by a man named Antonio Mateo Correa. In an effort to get away, she takes a night shift from her employer, which turns into working at a brothel. She’s an adult film star in illegal cinema. Cherry Fae Kensington is Mr. Thornfield’s personal assistant who owns Max-Mart (Names). She manipulates Sofía for the CEO with William Atlas Beckford. Though they all seek to escape, control, or destroy the organization. Antonio? Cuck, NTR? Nightmare At The Meat Market.

Do I feel ashamed writing such things? If it fed my boys. Tell them better stories. Virgil Has Tales, Braxton

1529 Days Without B III, Day 970 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will