Tag: Shoes

Chronicle 115 ~Aw Hell Angels, Behave~

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A boot stamping on a human face forever? I’m sure the Shoe Person was wearing sneakers, and the jury is still out when it comes to me being human. A worm, a wuss, worthless. So yeah, you have my work week, but I have an angel. Aw Hell Angels, Behave.

Sunday, October 24, 2021

Chronicle 115 ~Aw Hell Angels, Behave~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, while you still have never hailed a cab. You’ve never sung Hail to the Chief. Seeing Hell?

Like every other week, that would be a yes. In a way, it’s nice to rise from the Ninth Circle and your Treachery to be somewhat in the Fifth. As Drake says, “I got enemies, got a lot of enemies. Got a lot of people tryna drain me of my energy.” Right now, you’re alone. That’s what’s so fucked up about this. Fucking Day Job. You should watch your language; Braxton is listening, but we’ll get to that. The two things you’re more concerned about in the land of the living is one, “I got girls in real life tryna fuck up my day.” Flooring. Dammit, why can’t you let that go already? Well, I didn’t. Two is yourself, looking at these Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Kama Sutra Sex Guide for Couples, Samantha Mandala
    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 001 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

“It’s too cold outside, For angels to fly.” That’s why everyone is stepping on you this week, or they will be. The Shoe Manager is no fucking angel. Language! The supervisor, the manager, there is no one. The Bible says something about finding righteous people. Now let’s be clear, this isn’t your PRIDE speaking. Without a doubt, you’re going to… “You’re in Hell, this is Hell now, you’re in Hell.’ Yeah, paraphrasing Dot Allison’s “Colour Me.” That has been another earworm of mine, and I’m glad you found it. One less thing to worry about, congratulations. How long has your wrath relented? All good things. Nothing has been good, to be honest. You realize why Republicans adore forgetfulness, fury, and fucking Stupidity. Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading Dystopian Girls 2
  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 001 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

You should add having Braxton back or getting another fur-baby to the list. The only thing that got me through this week of humiliations galore is Routine. Braxton is dead. The pain to trump all other hurts, humiliations, and you’re hoping horniness. To be a monk again. It wasn’t trying to get into Heaven but instead your punishment, like sleep. I didn’t buy stairs for Braxton, and he learned how to fly. He’s flying now. When I didn’t want to walk, I brought food home, so B III wanted to eat. He’s dying; you’re sleeping. I don’t have any advice for you but to ask Braxton for courage instead of your condemnation. Want to know if God exists? For Braxton, Women, Aw Hell Angels, Behave.

If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face—for ever.
― George Orwell, 1984

266 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Log 362 ~A Breath Of Will~

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I hate these words probably as much as my Day Job “Another Day,” and that means I’m still breathing and not wasting my breath trying to be, well me. One day when I’m drowning in cash. A Breath Of Will

Saturday, June 27, 2020

Log 362 ~A Breath Of Will~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can breathe without it. I Can’t Breathe, are dangerous words, and that’s why I prefer to keep my mouth shut. When I take in the air to speak, um, that hasn’t been going to well lately. Hell, aren’t my fingers an even bigger problem?

As you know, I started NO FAP yet again. Yeah, I’m in that 24 Hour state of clarity. Lady Lu, as the song goes, I’ll never fall in love again. I’m starting to remember all those years ago when I discovered RealDoll. Now, this might be more of a confession for Inspector Echo, but with all, I’ve admitted? I did enter the RealDoll give away for the summer. What, are you going to change my mind? I swear Lady Luna I’m not one of these “Incel” creeps. Over the past week, though, MILF Dos isn’t talking to me, and neither is Cherry. Two other girls don’t give me the time of day. It puts a whole new spin on “take my breath away.” More like I’m giving it away, and what about GULP? Did I get enough to eat yesterday, which is why I’m energized this morning? I Can’t Breathe.

I know not funny, like that dumbass political so and so. If it’s not women robbing me of my breath, it’s My Dæmon. Yes, he’s my handsome little boy, but he’s also an old man. Yesterday I thought he was getting sick yet again. I swear I hold my breath when he jumps from the bed or uses the stairs. I wonder how do I even get to sleep at night, and he’s right here beside me. I swear if it’s not a woman talking to me, it’s watching my kid’s little chest heave, up-down. He lives, and yet I say Luna, I Can’t Breathe.

How I wish I could say something righteous or anything that might mean anything someday. Why not work on my story, make money, buy a made girl, or actual MILF? We’ll see, won’t we, when I get back walking my child. I should breathe easy now that hey, I put some new shoes on. Funny, my stinky boots didn’t bother me when I went out yesterday. With the plague and being a black man, but I wasn’t holding my breath. Walking on eggshells, broken glass, take A Breath Of Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 359 ~Willing The Limbo Game~

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I don’t play party games, and I’m not much of a dancer, but I’m not crying about Indiana Gone. Well, she did have to deal with some racist jerk. Anyway, how about my game of life tonight? Willing The Limbo Game

Wednesday, June 24, 2020

Log 359 ~Willing The Limbo Game~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, as I sink to the lowest denominator when it comes to people. Hell Inspector Echo, Sex gets a worse rap than violence. I could go either or and as always go down even lower. How about being sad, with general disappointment?

Well, let’s start with my favorite subject, can you guess? Sex, my dear Inspector, and did I say I broke NO FAP earlier this week. Yeah, sometime this afternoon even, so tomorrow is going to be lovely? Geez, Inspector Echo, I can’t survive two days now. As THEY say, like people in Hell want ice water. Isn’t that where I’ve been when we start talking about the Day Job. Am I using that as an excuse? I was all “discombobulated” last week and then… people. It’s one thing to think of MILF Dos as an angel, a queen, or a goddess. How I already feel like a slug for doing something, I still don’t know what I did wrong. At least Sex brings me to life. Everyone at the Day Job makes me want to die. So yeah, I go back to bed and wank off to Tifa Lockhart and Aerith Gainsborough; wait until tomorrow.

Speaking of going lower, what’s that “old” meme AHEM, “What Are Those?” I’ve never worried about designer shoes, but to quote a famous Will, “And what the Hell is that smell?” Those would be my boots, Inspector Echo. It’s not like my money situation has my pants falling down. Yes, I know, I still have money to worry about “Yabbos.” How many times have I mentioned Hell tonight? If I were to die, it would be me looking at Yabbos and never touching them for all eternity, always another pair.

Now I’m not planning on dying unfortunately for myself and others. Still, there are some people I hate with everything within me. Only I have their blood in my veins, or I still need a paycheck no matter how small. What about My Dæmon, who I love like pancakes? I’m not the father that I should be ever Inspector Echo. The only good reason I look down is all him. Otherwise, it’s my penis, the putrid smell of my boots, or that person in the mirror I can’t stand seeing.

My apologies Inspector Echo, for my weakness and wastefulness; I’m not Willing The Limbo Game.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 341 ~Someone SHOE Me, Will~

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One of the worst weeks at the Day Job and that is saying a lot but I haven’t walked out for good, no not yet. Only with all this walking, I have been doing, why couldn’t I do anything a bit more constructive. Someone SHOE Me, Will

Saturday, June 6, 2020

Log 341 ~Someone SHOE Me, Will~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and more than ever, I want that private beach. There are pictures of me on a beach, not that I was allowed to keep any of them. Don’t ever ask me why I have no good memories of my childhood. I don’t have one picture to prove it. Now I don’t mean to be so cranky this Thursday morn or however long it takes to have this chat. By the time you read this, one of the worst weeks of my life has ended. Hell, how do I even keep score? Yesterday (Wednesday), I thought, no one counts days in Hell.

Of course, that was at the Day Job, the SHOE department. Talk about the Law of Attraction. Was this me talking about feet a few days back? Knowing the schedule made me think about my feet. Perhaps I’m feeling, defeated, yeah, not funny, I know. At least My Dæmon took it easy on me this morning. No walk for him, and shouldn’t I be worried? He hates getting old, the rain, and that I’m not sharing. Okay, for the moment at least. Speaking of walking nowhere, how about all the marches, protests, and riots going on. Running for Amaud, Marches for George Floyd, and we can’t forget about Breonna Taylor. Being Black in America, Lady Luna is something. The thing is I have a hard enough time only being me.

Do you want to take a walk in my shoes? If the Day Job is any indication, I intend not to wear any for plenty of reasons. Again the SHOE department is nowhere I want to be, and neither is Home And Kids. I would say I’m sick of running away and trust me, I am. Yet I want to be like Shaka Zulu, in some ways mind you. I want to stop running towards my bed and start running towards glory. With all this NO FAP going on (16 days, 21 hr, 42 min, 50 sec), I should be playing twenty toes. I’ll even admit to enjoying a bubble bath with a good book. Nowadays, I put my feet up for ten minutes at a time to read Too Late by Colleen Hoover. It seems though I still can’t keep up, even with my time traveling ways, what’s today?

Walk With Me… no Lady Luna, Someone Shoe Me, Will.

I Will Have No Fear