Tag: Punch

Saga 283 ~Your Punchline Means My Punches~

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“Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth,” I believe that was Tyson. One more reason I love B. He didn’t talk much, and he barked at everyone else. Then there are earbuds. But I talk to myself… oh no! Your Punchline Means My Punches.

Monday, April 10, 2023

Saga 283 ~Your Punchline Means My Punches~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Fourth Rule

NOTE: I wrote about this effing rule twice! So much for my focus and concentration!

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… Now that’s funny. But I can buy more than $10.00 Walmart earbuds with that money. Work harder?

I rather hurt my ears than my hands today. However, considering what time it is. I did both this morning. Must have. I punched out a clock or went deaf. Who knows. Well, Braxton would or does… I’ve talked about the looks he’d give me; what I wouldn’t give for one of those looks now. And I try to recreate them with Virgil. He’s not Triple B, reincarnated. Oh, I’m reading yet another book on dying fur babies. Find that funny, huh? Not you, of course, Madam. You and all the girls know how I feel about my son. And with everything people have made fun of me about. Even the universe knows that my B III. He’s off-limits. Unheard, unseen… humor; why so serious

Only there’s plenty to make fun of me about. Though if we’re talking about something like last night… I’ll say I’m more sad and pathetic than angry. If Cherry understood. Okay, last night I spent more money, $35.00, to see some titties. Online strippers (sigh). There’s always the fact that I’m begging to see Cherry’s yabbos and M Anime. Haven’t I said before men and women can’t be friends? Friends, but there’s always, um, desire…

Hell! Braxton was my best friend, and I effed him worse than anybody. I killed him.

Anyway, there was this other girl who reminded me somewhat of cuckolding. Maybe that was General Hospital when Elizabeth was sleeping with Lucky’s half-brother. Getting way off the subject… I don’t care for laughter.

So what joke gets me to punch someone in the face? I’m surprised I still have the Day Job for one. Again I killed my son. Euthanasia. I don’t need the cops outside the door like last night. Well, that was more Fire Department and an Ambulance for the neighbors.

Punishment for what happened to Braxton. I still deserve it. But yes, I’m frightened (sigh). In a way, Madam, I’m so busy hurting myself in this way or that. The Cherry Collision or denying myself release from pornographic passions… It’s easy to get angry. Rageful. Madam, this existence is a joke. And when other people remind me of it… Madness. That’s why I like hearing about “My Dick.” No Joke? Your Punchline Means My Punches

799 Days Without B III, Day 240 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 269 ~We Cannot Learn Without Pain~

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Didn’t I say I’ll break a hand someday? It hasn’t happened. At least I’d have an excuse. Not to pet Virgil. Or pound away at keys for… reasons. And yes, the palms of my hands are filled with… Anyway, existence is pain. “We Cannot Learn Without Pain.”

Monday, March 27, 2023

Saga 269 ~We Cannot Learn Without Pain~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Or if I decided to be honest. I’m just a sucker for pain, as the song goes.

Of course, not a day goes by; I don’t think about the pain that defines this existence—my son’s death. Has a day gone by that I haven’t brought up Braxton Barks Bradford? And what did I learn from his leaving me? Well, more like his murder. THEY say at the Day Job with all the Humiliations Galore that goes on there. My face turns red. Well, tries. But it’s my hands, Madam. What color was the pen I used singing Braxton’s euthanasia? The Hell if I know. But my hands are red with his blood. Gray or black with B’s ash, hmm? I’m not opening that box again. What about B’s memorial, the money, and the memories? So many pictures I should look at.

Because everything hurts so much, and I’m still so effing STUPID. That happens when you’re busy pounding away on one head and ignoring the other. Oh, with these hands, Madam. With these hands. I can’t say I use them for anything that resembles love. LUST? I could go on and on about that. But first, I’m talking to you on Sunday, March 26, 2023. And I’m trying to keep my hands off my dick. Or from typing perverted desires. Why do you think I keep repeating The Zoe Colletti/Tifa Lockhart Incident on January 11, 2022? And The Cherry Collision Thursday, February 16, 2023. I didn’t learn from one, so here I am, suffering. Will the pain subside after the lesson has been learned? Or vitamins…

And what did Virgil Vivi do to deserve the pain he’s in? He’s sitting in Braxton’s room because… I could give you an excuse Madam. I’ve been rereading a lot of quotes from all those dead fur baby books. About when I thought B III would be reincarnated and return. All the books I read only to remain STUPID. I should join the Republican Party. Only they don’t read, and the only burning I’m doing is the heat here. Me, being effing horny and waiting on my time in Hell. That’s right. The Day Job again. What’s there to learn? Madam, I want to join my boy. But he wasn’t smart enough to leave. Harsh! I decided that for him. We Cannot Learn Without Pain.

785 Days Without B III, Day 226 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 262 ~Your Punchline Means My Punches~

WillLeave a comment

I’m going to break a hand someday. Will it be on the shower tile, a Day Job locker, or will I finally go all out? Everything happens for a reason. When my ears were stopped up, and I couldn’t hear people’s jokes? Your Punchline Means My Punches.

Monday, March 20, 2023

Saga 262 ~Your Punchline Means My Punches~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Forth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. And hopefully, I don’t get as raw-dogged as all the others. Always practice safe sex, guys ha-ha.

Why am I laughing? For all the people that make fun of me, you know who’s the worst. I think Taylor Swift had it right “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” Braxton’s knowledge. That’s why he would stomp on my head every morning. Oh, look, here’s my tears for this morning. All I have to do is remember that his purpose was to protect, save, and love. And if punching me in the face with those little legs did the trick. Well, then do it. My Braxton. While I’m all in a musical mood, “It’s no surprise to me, I am my own worst enemy.” Braxton protected me from bullies. The two biggest being my old man and me.” The mirror Madam… SIGH

Nah! “I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror.” Hah! Do I not want to eff Taylor Swift anymore? Trust me, Madam. We’ll get to that. Trump was staring at the sun. He’s one sad joke. But I’m usually up before the sun. Even if it’s not at 4AM as I planned. Now if I were a better man, I would change “sun” to “son.” Braxton’s eyes served as a mirror. Only within them, I saw a much better man. Somebody I wanted to be. Not now. Every day if I don’t start the day thinking, “my son is dead,” it’s, “I’ll join him, my B III.” It wouldn’t be a punch in the gut to anyone. Then again, no more jokes.

Punchlines! And here’s another one, Madam. The phone has become the sun. Oh, the light. And I spend at least a half hour punching at the bedsheets. Wayward dick Madam. Staring at orbs, I want more than any sun. Those are called breasts, tits, yabbos, fun bags, dirty pillows, etc. To think of such a release Madam. But instead, I get so angry. Please! Not at women. It’s the fact that I have to punch into the Day Job, and for what now, hmm? It was wanting to throw punches in that Hell. Even after saying the comedian is dead. Myself. But no! I let those bastards’ punchlines go unpunched, and Braxton paid the price. Virgil’s no joke, me neither. Your Punchline Means My Punches

778 Days Without B III, Day 219 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will