Saga 283 ~Your Punchline Means My Punches~

“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 276 ~Sanity Is A Valuable Possession~

My head hurts or heads… Know why? Don’t stick your dick in crazy. And at the same time, don’t get out of bed in the morning. If I had my way, I wouldn’t. Hell, I would have joined my boy wherever he went. Insane idea? Sanity Is A Valuable Possession.

Monday, April 3, 2023

Saga 276 ~Sanity Is A Valuable Possession~

Two-Hundred and Eighty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. When will that be true? Here’s a better question. When will I be healthy… um physically? Mentally (cue) Am I A Psycho?

Because SANE? No! Which already puts me in a bad position. What would you call being SAD for 792 days and counting? Despite every emotion. Why? MY SON IS DEAD! Braxton is gone, Madam. Now I’ve been sad before. Hell! Long before ever meeting him. I can’t say I’ve ever been a bastion of sanity. And with the world, as it is. We’re all broke. At least when it comes to our reason, all I have are excuses. I’m an effing Republican; because I’m not reasonable, ready, or right ever. Madam, accepting my effing insanity. Singing, “But I can’t walk on the path of the right because I’m wrong.” Again as I’ve said, I’ll take physical pain over any and all mental anguish, dear Madam.

Because SICKNESS? That’s what I thought about all day at the Day Job; that I deserve this pain. And why? Because of what I did to my boy? I’ll never forgive myself for that sin. So every day, I wake up with the thought of joining Triple B whenever. Madam, this morning as I was brushing my teeth, I found my hand was bloody. I went from, “is this a tooth,” to “it’s finally happening; I’m dying.” I think it’s from where I cut my chin shaving… But that’s not healthy. To be so in love with the idea of death. Zombies, Necromancy, Infection, etc… At least if I’m hurt, I’m not thinking about other things; if you knew what I was thinking Sunday afternoon.

Because SEX? Some people want life to be like some musical; I see existence as one huge porno set. Yesterday it was Street Blowjobs. I told this story before about the lady at the store years ago. The blonde that asked for money. If I had been a better man… or a worse one? Anyway, different woman, same scenario. And I flat-out refused to give anything. Madam, if only she had been prettier. I could have closed my eyes, Madam. Wouldn’t that make it harder to read… no offense to the braille or audiobooks. I’m thinking of those two stories on that app I saw this morning. Maddening being sexual. Because my desires aren’t sane, my existence found lacking… whatever. Sanity Is A Valuable Possession.

792 Days Without B III, Day 233 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will