Chronicle 086 ~Give B A Hand~

Didn’t I say something about being up to my neck in… whatever last week. The first thing I read about today is a woman in a noose. Fiction, but um yeah, TX. But I’m more to the idea of finding a way for me to live. Give B A Hand; he was good at that.

Saturday, September 25, 2021

Chronicle 086 ~Give B A Hand~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but maybe if I said, “I’m Will, I AM a Billionaire.” No, I’m Will (only) Will.

I wanted to use another word than that in parentheses, but you know how Hemmingway is. Do I want to spend today complaining about that fucking App? Pardon my French. Also, forgive my SPOILER ALERT if you haven’t read The Handmaid’s Tale. Ofglen (Emily in the show) hung herself. The things I don’t need to be thinking about today Lu. Yeah, yeah, I finished another book. To Braxton, all that would mean is that he would have to get up so I could order another one. Hell reading, writing, it’s what I do. I would say it’s who I am but who is that again? It’s what I have been thinking about since I woke up. I’m Ofwillie. I had another name; it’s forbidden. Daddy

I’m sure I’ve written way more nasty stuff when it comes to women. I in no way, shape, or form wish to insult Margaret Atwood or her work. Can you blame me, though, for being in this state of mind? I have my hoodies, live-by routine, very much fucked. Should I stop Lady Lu? Who knows, in the “future,” like at the end of The Handmaid’s Tale, warning SPOILER ALERT. I could be looked upon as some authority, a genius, a call from the darkness which is this present. A better comparison… Winston Smith. Braxton was here for the reading of 1984, I’m sure. Lady Lu, if you told me it was my purpose to be one of his comfy spots, that’s a life lived.

I’ve told you before that with Braxton, he was the only one who didn’t expect me to be anything more than his Daddy. I made that choice; I like being that man. I love Braxton. Now I have women in my life, Carolina Bound, M Anime. I’m still pretending Lunalesca. Carolina Bound, of course, knows me better than anyone “Of Inner Demons.” Such a risk. As for others, first, there is the indifferent or those that see worthlessness. My Olds. Enemies, Lady Lu, my God, I understand why Offred AKA June was giving up… easier.

“Nolite te bastardes carborundorum,” ― Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale

As in Don’t let the bastards grind you down. I’m the worst one looking in the mirror instead of my kid’s eyes. I counted on Braxton. Give B A Hand

237 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 085 ~It’s Empty B Cause~

Like Father like Son. I’m running on empty and still trying to say something of value. Braxton was dying, and he continued to love so much he stayed beside me. He loved himself enough to walk to his water bowl. “It’s Empty B Cause,” nothing it’s full

Friday, September 24, 2021

Chronicle 085 ~It’s Empty B Cause~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. If I hope to remain so, I know I can’t have days like yesterday or today.

In the back of my mind, the “thought” was there, but we’ll get to that in a bit. I don’t want to go blaming Braxton for anything. Only the house is emptier. I guess I decided to take the night off from playing the beast, and instead, I was a vampire. This morning a ghost. Yeah, I’m still up to my “Stuff and Thangs on Onlyfans. It’s not even like I want to be seen. Well, you could ask M Anime. But I’m not one for a certain kind of picture sending. I’m not STUPID, Sophia, but we’ll get to that too. As for other things in my pants, money? No, even though I got paid. For dinner, I had four bags of chips ha.

Oh, I always have money but between gaming and books. I’m trying to keep up with The Handmaid’s Tale, but I’ll still remain ignorant on life. Yeah, if I could stay awake to live it. My bed is empty right now, but I was up most of the night. B could be keeping it warm. I should get clean, but what are the odds, Lady Sophia. So much to do and no desire at all. Pleasing an empty stomach? Worse is the blank my mind is drawing. I’m filling out. Yesterday M Anime said that, and my answer is? Working out, eating; to be fat, happy? Sophia, I wish I could remember why I even wanted to start talking to you like this after Braxton.

I want to tell his story. I have 50,000 words, and there is even more? I need to refill my Amazon balance and start buying more for Braxton instead of only books. The Red Collar. My skin remains empty of tattoos. Braxton’s water bowl is never empty. His bathroom spot and food dish are never filled. I won’t remove his things from the kitchen counter. This brings me to the AM as I paid tribute, and I saw B’s bucket of treats. I’m “Running On Empty,” and it doesn’t make sense to buy more. Is anything I do ever, Sophia? Writing, for example, going to Petsmart on Saturdays, being on camera, love, however, it’s sliced? My heart’s not empty. It’s broken. It’s Empty B Cause

236 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 083 ~I’ll B Home Later~

Today’s pride will be tomorrow’s humiliations. Hell, I was in a good mood, so I had to time travel. Will Wednesday (today, tomorrow, whenever) feel like this. Doubtful, I’m not that lucky with women, and B never met his step-mom. “I’ll B Home Later.”

Wednesday, September 22, 2021

Chronicle 083 ~I’ll B Home Later~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I must have good clocks. I don’t think I’ll ever want to own a Rolex.

Now while I can get into my fondest for digital watches. How about the “Humiliations Galore,” at the Day Job. Hell, today B would have got a reprieve. You’ll be surprised what a pretty girl in a “virgin killer sweater” can make you forget. A nap, books, um NXT hmm? It’s why I’m talking to you so late, Inspector Echo? What do I mean, considering it’s Tuesday night? I’ve woken up pretty damn early the past two days trying to make a better life. Then after the Day Job and my binge of fast food. I’m KO’ed for hours, SIGH. Braxton would be proud, I mean it. Chicken and Fries, and as for that nap today? Um, ahem, I make them “Good Girls Go Bad.”

That’s why things like OnlyFans don’t frighten me. Echo, I’m naked every day in these words. I write some pretty horrible things in novels, poetry, more. Oh, and here’s a note, Hemingway will ding me using the word “pretty” four times now, Inspector? Anyway, the Day Job fucks me over. If I’m going to show all, be embarrassed, or have someone laugh at me, I can do that from the comfort of “my” bed. Sure, I might have locked up B III more, but I think he would prefer that to death taking him. Day 234 and it’s difficult Echo. You know that A-Word I’ve been kicking around, Acceptance. It’s not, even if I acknowledge the Day Job is a much worse place than here.

I’m sure June would disagree in The Handmaid’s Tale, you think. I let myself down by not reading enough today. I can’t help feeling I’m letting the Day Job down, like a pornstar that can’t get it up. I let Braxton down by working all the time and then sleeping. THEY say home is where the heart is. Dangerous thoughts Inspector but I would never. All the things I’ll never do. But I’m never late when it comes to the things I hate. Unless a pair of nice Yabbos were involved. I told Braxton I’d bring him a mother. Inspector, today there were good vibes, French fries, and I didn’t want to die. B III wouldn’t have minded, “I’ll be back.” I’ll B Home Later

234 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 081 ~Yesterday Was The Easy Day~

Sad but true, even before Braxton and worse without him. It’s sort of like that movie Office Space. Every day is the worst day of my life except for Emergence, Braxton’s last day, and the Day Job anniversary. Yesterday Was The Easy Day

Monday, September 20, 2021

Chronicle 081 ~Yesterday Was The Easy Day~

Two-Hundred And Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I won’t be writing at the dining room table tomorrow. I’ll be busy with humiliation.

If there’s anything to hope for while I Time Travel today, it’s this. No, not that I’ll see a fur baby at PetSmart Saturday. Today is the farthest from that, being Sunday, and I got another email about a puppy yesterday. Every day I’m farther away from B III, dammit. Um, excuse me, Madam, I need that pain. As I was trying to say, I can only hope I’ve seen the worst humiliations this world has had to offer. Only I know I haven’t. If I were smart, I would be in bed right now, soaking in whatever energy, comfort, peace to be found, yep. Despite all I have done today, the only fact is that Monday will be worse. Dare I become a prophet?

A Realist. As I said before, it will be 232 days without my son when you see this, dear Madam. It doesn’t get easier. I still have yet to see one where I wasn’t crying about him. I’d take that over living like this. It’s a horrible thought to think that Braxton was the lucky one. It should have been me. I’ve said it before that 2020 and being 36 was a cakewalk, piece of cake and easy as pie compared to the moment right now. Let’s look at today, Sunday. Besides talking to you, I got dinner started early. I worked on “Stuff and Thangs.” Madam, I took a shower. I even changed my mind between reading The Handmaid’s Tale and The Red Collar.

Compared to tomorrow or today, whatever. Madam, this whole week is going to suck. Yes, every day will be worse than the last. Braxton’s not here to lie to anymore. I only speak the truth to myself, and when it comes to the day job… I know I didn’t say Another…

“There’s too many men, too many people, making too many problems.”

My fucking Republican tendencies. They want more people until they’re born. More, unless their immigrants. Yes, more unless they have brains. People make the days harder, that is true.

“If anything, I am an equal opportunity misanthropist.” ― Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle.

I think that’s it… I hate days more than the people. Hating myself the most because Yesterday Was The Easy Day.

232 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 080 ~Go B, Go Home~

All The Small Things or The Little Things, let me stop myself before I make another playlist. There’s always so little time; my son, who was 15, will always be my baby boy. Not to mention I feel like a speck or a peck, eh Willow. “Go B, Go Home”

Sunday, September 19, 2021

Chronicle 080 ~Go B, Go Home~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but what’s in your wallet? Using a credit card slogan? It must be early. Only 5:50 AM.

Braxton was big on life. All he needed was but a sliver of light, and it was time to go walking. Breakfast is to be served uh… well you know the word you want to use. (Damn Hemingway App)! Anyway, there was a yard that needed protecting. Braxton was home. Nowadays, and yes, I know your week is only beginning. Here’s a quick note, what is it with the word “only?” You know, if you use any other word ending in the last two letters, you get dinged. Speaking of the bumps, bruises, and battery, it’s the little things, right? Hell, I was annoyed yesterday for a lot of things. The smallest ones being there were no itty-bitty dogs at PetSmart. Oh, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Succubus 6 (Devil In The Deep Blue Sea)
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Why would petting another fur baby make this list? I also mentioned the word Acceptance. That word is “humongous” to you. Again must please Ol’ Massa Hemingway because a tiny synonym would get flagged. Are you editing Gulp this week? See, this is what you’re thinking about. All these bits and pieces of your life and trying to put them all together. It’s so much easier not to imagine life. That right there is a thought. You’ve been here so many years, and that’s the idea that will get you into a world of shit. This morning you had a brilliant line for a girl, but of course, she would assume the worst.

“You are my sun, my moon, my starlit sky,” ― Willow (1988)

Were you listening to me, Neo? Or were you looking at the woman in the red dress? ― The Matrix (1999)

So I guess you’re saving the best for last, eh? Try and finish a thought, okay? This chick was wearing a black dress with celestial bodies all over it. No love, no flirting: cuteness. Hell, all your love is still for B III, who was worth a million girls. To imagine such love from something and for something so little, my wee puppy. Um, what were you doing before having this talk with the mirror? Right, you were in front of your camera… Onlyfans. Nope, there is no advice for that. B is for breathing. Go B, Go Home, sigh. Do Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, The Handmaid’s Tale
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

231 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 079 ~What Comes NECK B~

*GULP*, I’m surprised I didn’t mention the poetry book that still sits before my eyes on my screen. Hell, I paid those people what, two or three years ago, and I haven’t sent them anything. I’ve been up to my neck in… whatever. What Comes NECK B

Saturday, September 18, 2021

Chronicle 079 ~What Comes NECK B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could get my neck checked out. I should get my eyes examined too.

Only what excuse comes next? It’s 5:50 AM, so of course, I’m pissed. I’m trying to aim for 4:00, and Braxton would think, am I crazy. My neck hurts; she’s not so pretty, there’s time. No, there isn’t. That’s what this neck pain is smarting as I can’t remember, dreaming. There’s one more excuse; let me see how I was sleeping wrong in the dark so I can fix it. Don’t they usually put a bag over your head before they execute you? Or am I living in a world where it is better not to look? Lunalesca, I continue going on about novels today. I’m still thinking about The Handmaid’s Tale. I finished reading my current book, and I saw Blindness by José Saramago.

All these things Lady Luna. If I wasn’t being so selfish again, I could worry about the rest of the world or my country at least. You know how I hate sounding like a Republican but “Hang Mike Pence!” Should I say anything about Trump, seeing he’s not president now? Using the words “hurt” and “myself” is dangerous business, and I’m not Johnny Cash. Only I will be hurt as I go to look at the fur babies today. Have I arrived at Acceptance? Fuck no, never Lu, but a new circle. I look at dogs, I go to Walmart, and then there are tacos. It’s my routine for Saturday. Betray my son, relive a car accident, and my humiliations at BWW over and over.

It’s all my fault, Lady Lu. I’m not blaming anybody else for being thirty-seven and living this way. That’s one more fact. I’m getting older, and that is why my neck hurts? It could be the fact that I haven’t gotten what I deserve. Believe me, it’s nothing good, Lunalesca. Seeing as I’m not having sex anytime soon, the neck is overlooked. Gulping in terror. There’s that fancy meal I was supposed to have on Emergence but wasn’t that awesome. Luna, I am what I am. I deserve a noose but to quote Stephen King, God is Cruel, I know. I live choking on words, wanting to puke my guts out, eating “good,” going broke. Routine Luna, to imagine what’s next. What Comes NECK B

230 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 078 ~Let’s Book It, Braxton~

I always pictured the Daddy reading to his kids. Of the 38 books I’ve gotten to so far, only 11 (maybe) were appropriate. Braxton was here for four of them. All of January. Yet The Handmaid’s Tale has been on my mind. Let’s Book It, Braxton

Friday, September 17, 2021

Chronicle 078 ~Let’s Book It, Braxton~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but what did you do today, Braxton? No hands for applause. Some whining, big floppy ears.

I want to talk about Braxton but, there’s something I’ve been thinking… Moira and Emily. Didn’t I say something um wanting to read The Handmaid’s Tale? How about today, ha. I’ve only seen the show, a bit into Season 3. So here’s my question. Would you want to be Moira, no fanfare but to know that you’re safe? No one that doesn’t know what you’ve endured can ever understand. But now you’re a person you can live, your life matters. Or would you instead be Emily? Your life matters, and everyone knows? You’re seen not only as a survivor but a big damn hero. The world that you escaped from, the things you had to do in such horrific circumstances. Not only that, but someone is waiting for you only.

I’ve been talking to M Anime about how hard it is for her to be a woman. I in no way, shape, or form what to imply I know her struggle. Oh, I would rant to B about being black. My point is this. While I imagined reading The Handmaid’s Tale instead of, well, my latest. When I walk into the house, I remember all the days Braxton was still here to greet me always. Lame, isn’t it? When he was young, for sure, I was an Emily, and I didn’t have to bring in a baby. Bringing in a bag of goodies was enough, and of course, yeah, I’ll hang onto this B III. When he was older, I was Moira. Helpfully loving quietly.

My Day Job stories were a lot more appropriate. Despite multiple uses of the word “motherfucker.” In my younger days, my Olds wanted to know about my day, but not really. Now B III, my son, wanted to know everything. Yeah, I’d imagine that’s why he fought against so much. I told you before, people would say it was like B had to protect me. Sophia, when I would pick up a book, that’s when Braxton knew I was at peace. Hell, to think today, I wanted to tell you about the last book Braxton and I read together. Succubus Lord 7. Gospel 212 and Braxton’s last Friday. He didn’t see the end of Succubus Lord 8. Not appropriate anyway. Still, Let’s Book It, Braxton.

229 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 076 ~B There An Age~

I haven’t forgotten the tattoo I want to get for Braxton and the different acronyms “EHC,” “JSS.” Since yesterday all I’ve been thinking is “FML,” only it’s never been my life, has it? My life, and so what chance did I have of saving B III’s? B There An Age

Wednesday, September 15, 2021

Chronicle 076 ~B There An Age~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but will there be an age I know no FEAR, HATE, or STUPIDITY. Fuck My Life.

Fuck, Mother Fucked, Fuckery! You’ll have to pardon my language Echo. Only who am I to tell you anything? God, I’ve been thirty-seven for over a week now, and I still go crying to my “father” for everything. In all honesty, as the song goes, “I feel stupid,” you know. Inspector, it would be one thing if it were only him, and how old is the ASM at the Day Job? Oh, I go running to the young as well. Hell, I wonder, will today be as humiliating as yesterday. Ten years of my existence wasted with a company, and I still don’t know shit. Will I be as worthless as I was yesterday “relying” on one of my much younger coworkers? Fuck My Life.

My motto, a mantra, the mold God broke. So he’d know never to make “me” this mistake again. I don’t even believe in God… well, not since B. How many years was it that I sat outside with him? Day One, and said that we had to look after one another. It was only us. Last night, this morning, was the most terrified I’ve been in quite a while. It’s taking everything within me to not curl up in the fetal position and lie here for the rest of the day. I should call out of the Day Job. No offense to you, Echo, but I should be doing more. What, hiding my entire life? You know that vomiting feeling I’ve had since last Friday?

Life retching out of me. That’s what I want. Today is the first day ever that I’m a bit glad that B III isn’t here to see what has become of his Dad. Now that right there is the sickest, vilest, cruelest thought I have ever had. I couldn’t protect Braxton. I can’t save myself. Hell, by the grace of God, I have been ferried through the night. If I see this day’s end and everything is “normal.” How I hate that word. What would “normal” be in this day and age? At this rate, I would give anything to go back to exactly where I was around this time. Asleep, dead to the world. Because today, Inspector, Fuck My Life. B There An Age
227 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 074 ~Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith~

I said humanity had a duty to survive but considering the direction we’re going in. I know I’m a bad man, and there have been more than enough days wishing I got what was coming to me. It’s ain’t over for me, Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith.

Monday, September 13, 2021

Chronicle 074 ~Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith~

Two-Hundred And Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Every day I say that; such is my faith. But my wallet… I’m mad about twenty bucks.

Hell, I’m angry about math in general. You know that song “What’s My Age Again?” Fucking Emergence Day. I remember where my father was by this age, sigh. Sleeping… nope. Like Sunday, I wake up to see I’ve lost cash on something I never use, something I don’t want. If it’s any consolation, at least it’s better than Yabbos. For the love of money, eh? Speaking of Yabbos, two words, Prom Night. Understand, I’m getting too old for this shit. But Samantha Flair “robbed” me, I’ll have to let Whitney Wright go. Oh, the Yabbos. To have faith in one pair and such faith was misplaced. The others were my bread and butter. What was it I said about feeling good yesterday? Today I’m tired.

Why shouldn’t I be? Do you see what time it is and it’s not for the Day Job? Still, today is all about survival. Most days, I don’t even worry about that much. “Humiliations Galore!” That’s what I want to avoid most days, but of course, today I need to get my haircut. So much for recouping the losses from the thievery. Funny, I think so bad of some chick. Of anybody when I need only say his name. Braxton. Oh, did you think I forgot my son? Talk about Losing My Religion, but we’ll get to that. It’s Day 225. How many more, hmm? As long as I keep myself alive. No, this isn’t living. As always, Madam, these words, are they living, breathing?

It’s like The Scorpion and the Frog, Toad, Boy, Goose, whatever. To cause pain, and yet I had two lives to keep alive, two men that I trusted. If anything, B III had enough faith for the both of us. Honestly, it’s not going back to the days when B III was alive. I want to go back to survival as routine. When I’m not, I hate the man that I am. There’s a rule for that, you know, ok. Rule Four: Hate Will Keep You Alive. Do I need to go into Rule Five? I see why hate is so prominent. As the song goes, I’m only “Human.” That’s in dispute, depending upon who you ask. Braxton isn’t here anymore, but he had/has faith. Survival’s Fact, Life Is Faith

225 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 073 ~B Kind Of Trouble~

On September 12, 2001, people had much bigger fish to fry. Now here I am twenty years later, complaining about twenty bucks. I’m all for Onlyfans but let’s just say I’m not paying for those. I should buy more stuff for Braxton. B Kind Of Trouble

Sunday, September 12, 2021

Chronicle 073 ~B Kind Of Trouble~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but Mo’ Money Mo’ Problems as the song goes. What I wouldn’t give for B III’s shit.

I’ve read Dennis Hof’s book, The Art of the Pimp: One Man’s Search for Love, Sex, and Money. He and some of his friends and associates talk about being “Mother Fucked.” Pardon the language. When Dennis gets Mother Fucked, he’s done with you, that’s it. Okay, so this morning, I was Mother Fucked. I’m feeling like a Republican talking about George Floyd and a twenty. Yeah, it was $20.00, but that was my money. Now I ain’t no cop. Yes, I have my own stupidity to blame… For the record, I’m over Samantha Flair, ha. I’m sorry you’re starting your week off on such a sour note. You feel stupid, your cash was “stolen,” and as far as sex goes… not on Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, The Theta Prophecy By Chris Dietzel
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Survive The Thirty-Seventh Emergence Day
    Completed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

To sing a song, “why do the things I hate come so naturally?” If it’s not a pair of English Yabbos you didn’t want. Why not Cherry’s (sigh)? You’re kind to the Day Job. You’re kind enough to your bed. Fuck your comfort zone, the motivations would say. Goddammit, man, you give all your energy to a place you despise and nap away your life. That’s not saying anything about the life I took. My B. I spent an hour Saturday looking at other fur babies. Like you can afford one when Onlyfans robs you. Don’t be me, I beg. Easier said than done? The world is headed to Hell, and The Handmaid’s Tale tells all. Only you’re reading something else and Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Succubus 6 (Devil In The Deep Blue Sea)
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Yesterday I talked some about the saddest memories of Braxton being the best. Considering the state of the world, losing $20.00 is nothing to over $300, letting B III rest. Again you hate the Day Job with a fiery passion, but at least they’ll pay you slave wages. Today you’re going to sit here in blankets trying to stave off the cold of your Treachery. Hell, you’re even back to monk status at the moment because nothing turns you off more than stealing. Again your stupidity or mine. Anyway, you don’t deserve to feel good. Advice wise I’ve got nothing but remember who you have to pay. Paying for your sins. A tattoo, Cuddle Clone? Having worries and cares of B. B Kind Of Trouble.

224 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will