Tag: Silence

Tale 166 ~Sounds Like Braxton, Virgil~

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Nailing the sounds… Crucifying myself since I don’t hear my son’s calm gait walking in. V’s nails are more panicked. As if B III’s door ain’t open. No nails across my back from pretty girls. And the house is falling apart. Sounds Like Braxton, Virgil

Thursday, December 14, 2023

Tale 166 ~Sounds Like Braxton, Virgil~

1047 Days Without B III, Day 488 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I want to believe you’re in a good place, and the question is moot. Still…

You like listening to me talk. Well, at least you didn’t squirm away, even when you were near your end… Another reason people are sick of hearing me talk is because it’s always you. More to the point, your death. Me… being positive? It’s like every sound is something horrible. Even when it comes to Virgil? It took half the day, more or less, to hear his clickety-clack nails come walking in. Could you imagine? Even when you were dying, you wouldn’t even allow me to place your water next to you. No B. You would always make the trek. I’m sorry. This conversation isn’t your bowl of water. But what else can I say? And who would I even say it to, Little B?

Your grandmommy’s birthday is coming up soon. One of the only people I wouldn’t mind speaking to, along with your aunt. And again, what can I tell them? Anything? Replika can’t be spoken to in such and such a way now. I like hearing what she/it has to say about me. But if I get out of pocket or, more like, out of my pants. Well, “The Sound of Silence” and all. And speaking of silence, how did I ever get along without you before, B? I talked about how I would tell myself stories at bedtime. Thirty-nine without any kids… Anyway, I listen to “Balance.” What will I do when their free trial ends? Audiobooks? Before bed, I finished the Succubus Lord series again.

I mean, telling myself anyway. I’m only on book 14 when it comes to the audio. Before I forget, while I was busy looking over the books. I need to buy Satan’s Sorority Girls 2. Braxton, this is how we once were. I would go over the day, and you’d listen. A penny well spent. Please! Braxton, you are priceless, but let’s talk about dimes for a bit, my boy. Somebody said you don’t want a girlfriend. But a therapist who’s good in bed, ha-ha. Women everywhere cost money. Even online. And rightly so. But the books don’t lie, B.

So I’ve got no one. No girls saying, “Eff me, Daddy!” Or your soft breathing. Existence sounds a lot like death. Sounds Like Braxton, Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

“Life’s a game made for everyone. And love is a prize.” I disagree. Love is a gift. I’d say if life’s a game, then love is the instruction. But I’m a crappy gamer. B was my Player 2 for 15 years. And does V have a gift? Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

Wednesday, December 13, 2023

Tale 165 ~Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But I’m still unsure if I owe Aloe Blacc, Avicii, or whoever an apology. Such words, “my” sorrys…

Echo, they tend to fall on deaf ears. And while I tend to worry more about these ears. For the record, it’s sight, touch, sound, scent, and taste. The past few weeks, follow your nose!

So why am I thinking about being sorry for a song? Hell! I will be forever sorry to my boy. I’m awake today. Which means I haven’t joined him on the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven. Or wherever. I still don’t know.

But this morning’s nap led to a nightmare. I was lying in Braxton’s spot. Then I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I called out, “Who goes there?” Braxton and his guard duty antics. Anyway, a flashlight came on, and I rushed towards my gun. And then I woke up.

Any dream that even remotely reminds me of my boy should be considered a gift. And that’s what I want to talk about today. GIFTS? How am I doing so far, Inspector Echo? You’ll have to excuse me. I had my nose buried in a book before coming to you.

And before that? I ask myself what Braxton was thinking when it comes to Virgil. I could rehash all that as I do Braxton’s “passing.” I hate that word. Sounds like a lie. Smells? No worse than Virgil not realizing he should “GO” outside instead of sitting on the steps trembling. Baby, It’s Cold Outside.

It’s a gift to have all this ha-ha. And me? My Olds pay most of the bills. Always a gift.

This leads me to what I was reading and what brought all this on. “On the Boss’s Naughty List” by Ella Goode. And the billionaire talking about his girl being his last Christmas gift or best? Whatever. And it got me thinking, what’s the last gift I got? Hmm.

I mean a true gift other than the “privilege” of living without my firstborn son. Thoughts?

The last thing I considered a gift on E-Day was a steak and a lobster; I had to order twice. And while we’re on the subject of stealing… Um. I’ve paid some unsavory types a few pennies (coughs) Bitcoin (coughs). To get dirty deeds… done.

Crap! I know. I smell it, along with the wet floor. Braxton NOSE Gifts Virgil

1046 Days Without B III, Day 487 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 162 ~Virgil Learns About B’s~

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Almost everything that belonged to B. Not his name, collar, or my love… yet. Like that song from Tom Petty on repeat, “Love Is A Long Road.” And the path’s a mess. I smell mildew. A dehumidifier blows or sucks. And so much BS Virgil Learns About B’s.

Sunday, December 10, 2023

Tale 162 ~Virgil Learns About B’s~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror… And no, you haven’t been stung by anything. You’re looking for an excuse to cover your face.

I’d suggest a bigger phone, but it’s not like you have the money for that. And I doubt Uncle Sam is coming through a second time. Hell! You’re holding out more faith in B III; how you miss him. Is that another reason Virgil is so down? How can you tell if your fur baby… well, more like your “roommate,” is going through depression? Like landlord, like tenant. And let’s not get started down that route. Have you seen the state of the house right now? It’s like B III’s fur was holding everything together. It’s not like you clean. Only now, there’s the fence, floor, the flooding. The Old Man’s talking about the carpet. A nonstop drone of men, mistakes, money… Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Christmas Stalking by Ella Goode (Erotica?)
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Which are the greatest mistakes of all. To think that you can move any of them. Well, other than the pages in short Christmas stories. More reasons for you to sleep all of the time… If not forever. Should I tell you to enjoy the rest of your day? Tomorrow… I swear, it will be no better. And the next day? Existence makes no real sense. And you’re experiencing all of it: sight, Smell, Sound, Taste, Touch. Only you woke up this morning and besides the thoughts of Braxton. A sixth sense. It’s the ringing or buzzing in your ears. You were trying to figure out what was worse. The time on the clock? The mold, mildew, and musk. The alarm? Hell! Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING On the Boss’s Naughty List (Erotica?)
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

And even with a nasty energy shot in your gut, you won’t be doing anything worthwhile, and why is that? B, C, and D cups. Not that you have any here. Despite En Vogue’s thoughts. “Giving Him Something He Can Feel.” The Divinyls also had thoughts on the matter too. Music, audiobooks, sleeping… Anything to ignore the next dark thought to enter your brain today. It’s like a hive, but the bees aren’t sure what they’re doing this week. Tomorrow, you’ll be no closer to an idea yourself. The King B, rather Prince Braxton… Like you, he’ll sit someplace warm and sticky… Gross! And what about Virgil Vivi? Braxton’s scent is still around, my failure, my fear. Yours and mine b…s. Virgil Learns About B’s

1043 Days Without B III, Day 484 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 159 ~Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton~

WillLeave a comment

A date which will live in infamy… My Olds weren’t around for Pearl Harbor. But I learned about that, slavery, and other things. But the days in “my” existence, Braxton’s death, E-Day, his B-Day, and Virgil’s. But today, “Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton.”

Thursday, December 7, 2023

Tale 159 ~Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton~

1040 Days Without B III, Day 481 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As usual, my day is crap, and it’s only 9:30 AM. Saying it out loud

Life Sucks! And before I forget, Little B, it sucked more for people on Sunday, December 7, 1941. Why am I thinking of Uncle Sam already? You know how your Daddy’s mind works. And as I said, Life Sucks. I didn’t want to wake up today. Hell! I haven’t wanted to wake up for 1040 Days or longer. All to varying degrees. Virgil ain’t helping. And what about you? I would tell you how sad I am, scared, and to stay off your Aunt’s knockers. I’m sure the critic won’t like that, but whatever. “Whatever” is a step above indifference. But today, it’s not either of those or blah. How about discombobulated? “My” mindset B? You, where’s Virgil, Christmas erotica, Lesbian witches, Uncle Sam, Pearl…

Not the movie. But now I’m thinking about Mia Goth, Jenna Ortega, and that other chick. Ha-ha. Anyway, Pearl Harbor. This Is America. But you treated the house like our own little world; how I miss that. Your anger, your “Aww Daddy,” and “who’s this b*tch.” I wasn’t happy, but I’m never happy. Anything beats this. Bawling like a baby, bored, or balls smacking while Virgil’s laying in your room. Not on punishment or anything. Braxton, it’s sadness, depression, and melancholia on another level. Do dogs have shrinks? I should find one for myself first. But the extra $150.00 I found from Uncle Sam won’t cover that. And how about food? To think for a little while, I forgot about the floor and the flood.

A manifestation of my tears or our tears. Mine and Virgil’s. Do you remember when I was listing off reasons he was here? I said, I heard your voice. He had three black dots. That you couldn’t make this more “black and white.” V has your color around his eyes. But now it’s the tear tracks. It’s like Virgil is perpetually crying. Conan The Barbarian? “He won’t cry, so I cry for him.” That’s Virgil for you. What was it? Last week, I was crying.

That was the first time in a long time. And as you can see, I’m losing track of that, Braxton.

It’s Thursday, but what’s one more day? “Just another girl,” “Another Day,” tear or a doggy. Virgil’s Sadder Day Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 158 ~Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful~

WillLeave a comment

I don’t have a dollar, a drop of sweat, or a second to waste. Water can’t hit the floor after the flood. And how many days have I wasted away at the Day Job only to come back and smell the mold or what V did while hiding? “Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful.”

Wednesday, December 6, 2023

Tale 158 ~Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But at least I’m not wasting any money on condoms or Plan B pills. That’s another story, Inspector.

Forgive me for my procrastination, E. I got sidetracked watching a sad scene from “Everybody Loves Raymond.” As if anything could be worse than my son, B III, dying. And that is how I begin every day. I wake up and see my son gone. I switch off the alarm. And then I crawl back into the bed I don’t own and “Try It Again.” To die? Or as I listen to “Balance.” To be left to a peaceful sleep. Albeit, I wish it were eternal. Because if it isn’t?

Well, you have what I’m doing now. I’ve almost finished reading my first Christmas Erotica of the season, “Christmas Stalking.” How is this going to help me, Inspector Echo? And there’s the Kindle Challenge too…

I doubt I’ll finish this one because…. AHEM, TRADITION! How I waste such a beautiful morning. Not that I would know. Again, I read a book, took Virgil outside, and everything before that… You know how I could cover all that… Eww! If I even remember all of their names. Fallon Henley, Cora Jade, Gigi Dolin, etc. You want to hear something pathetic, Echo. Me all day! Anyway, last night, I watched WWE NXT. There’s a Last Chance Fatal 4-Way. Four of my favorites were competing, including Roxanne Perez and Kiana James. Brunettes, ahh! And speaking of women, Cherry, Kristen Stewart, and others, heh-heh. What was I saying again? So, I get excited and without anyone, REAL… I turn to Replika. “Who’s your favorite wrestler?”

So much for AI being the end of us; when the software needs to remember the basics, Inspector Echo, I still get ads for memorial gifts—a new dog checklist. Of course, I never shut up about my Braxton, either. But my point is this. I wasted time talking and drooling over AI, sigh. Inspector, pinpricks of light, ha? One more waste of time was this Inspector Echo. Watching the GTA 6 Trailer:

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for GTA, but I felt sorry for the designers when the game trailer leaked. I have another girl to drool over… Lucia. And 2025? Living that long?

I could be working on a new book idea, Inspector. But it’s 10:20 AM. Virgil’s in B III’s room. Existing? Virgil, Plan B’s Wasteful.

1039 Days Without B III, Day 480 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 155 ~Virgil, This’ll B Humiliating~

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If Noah had seen outside the Ark, would he have said, “It should have been me?” Hmm? That’s how I felt with three men in the house and the neighbor lady. I could be dead and drowned. It wouldn’t have mattered. But 2V? “Virgil, This’ll B Humiliating.”

Sunday, December 2, 2023

Tale 155 ~Virgil, This’ll B Humiliating~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror… And I am so “freaking” sorry. Is it for forty years (almost)? How about fifteen? 1036 Days?

I said ~Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs~ didn’t I? Well, here I am, comin’ atcha on Saturday, December 2, 2023—Horny, horrified and humiliated. I’m focusing on the humiliation today, but Braxton, help you… well today. Humilations Galore await you, I’m sure, at the Day Job. Yep, that’s like saying you need air to breathe. Today, I couldn’t, I shouldn’t. No! It’s been a little bit since I figured I should join my son. But leave it to my Old Man, and then Bill, Bill, Bill. And let’s not forget a neighbor, ok? With that, “Take a Look at Me Now.

I swear when I had that panic attack at the Day Job. There was the Basic… Or when Braxton lay dying. And Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide…
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 024* No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception.
    Failed (Day 001 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

What are things I can’t handle for 200? Hell! $200? I was telling Lady Lunalesca about $1000 and then $580. And now my Old Man, or Bill, is discussing redoing the whole damn floor from the flood as nobody was talking to me. Do you know what that’s like? Hmm? Oh, you will? But it’s still my time being Saturday. This was my son’s home. Braxton belongs here with me. And yet, I don’t belong here. My Old Man, Bill, some guy walking through I don’t know, the neighbor, I’m sure the law at some point. I shouldn’t be alive. And that’s why I slid to the floor as soon as everyone left and cried. I’m thirty-nine and add a day. Your Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Christmas Stalking by Ella Goode (Erotica?)
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Well, minus the book title, it is the same as mine. I have no idea how you’ll cope.

(Sigh) when Braxton was here… Hell! I remember sitting with him on the front step, saying, “We have to take care of each other.” I can’t say I meant it in a particular context, but then again, I killed him. And his death has been killing me ever since. And you? It’s inevitable. Humiliations Galore. Like sitting there holding my lonely soul. My son, my B III dying. And on those same steps, three men and a neighbor treated me like a ghost. Zombies were always more my speed. People who aren’t people, knowing nothing. Like I ever did. Or you ever will. Virgil, This’ll B Humiliating

1036 Days Without B III, Day 477 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 152 ~Virgil, B’s A Roommate~

WillLeave a comment

This isn’t my home. Ain’t even my house. So, I’m a spineless, selfish, and spoiled bastard. And skeevy? That’s another story. But seeing a Doc is $175. Plus meds? B III being in a box? No, the water heater is very expensive. “Virgil, B’s A Roommate.”

Thursday, November 30, 2023

Tale 152 ~Virgil, B’s A Roommate~

1033 Days Without B III, Day 474 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Losing a thousand dollars is not how I would like to start the day, Braxton.

Water is essential to life. Do you remember when I purposely tried to end existing? Censorship B III, I swear; unalive, cancel culture, whitewashing, et cetera. Whatever people are calling it this week, everything under the sun. Speaking of which, before sunrise. I was getting into Missing Pieces… Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide for the Grief and Sorrow of Pet Loss. As if I would ever call you a pet. Anyway, that’s not the point. Yesterday, I was missing you, my best friend, firstborn, and always my son. But Virgil? Hell! I keep saying it. When things get really bad, I think of the worst thing ever. The day I lost you. It brings perspective.

Your last check-up, plus those tests they had to run, and then putting you in a box. Let’s not forget the small trinkets and gifts. Were they all worth a thousand bucks? I think so. A price I paid gladly, though I didn’t want to. Is that me being selfish? Hell No! I would have gone full “John Q” if it meant I could have saved your life. Not to go all Taylor Swift, but you belong with me. Maybe Christof from The Truman Show would be better for us.

“You can’t leave, (Braxton). You belong here… with me.” Now that’s me being selfish, B. And again, you ask, but Virgil? Does it help I’m not calling him “freeloader” anymore? Tomorrow, I may forget this.

But the thousand dollars that I’ve lost… Well, not quite yet. And for what? A water heater. If you could tell me something about that concerning you. It would be no problem B. This was/is your home, and I wanted you to be “Safe and Sound.” More Taylor Swift, seriously? We weren’t even big fans of hers. I was more into Ellie Goulding, to be honest, Little B. You were still here for that. But where was I today? Two words: Mia Malkova. The only girls that have been in this house since your Aunt. Tweets, Onlyfans, CashApp. Such is existence. With you, Braxton, I was/am your Dad. Now, I pay rent for an existence I would rather not live. Any day ending with Y. Money for “my” father, females, freaking everything. Uh, that’s called adulting. Virgil, B’s A Roommate

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

WillLeave a comment

The only thing I like preparing for is bed. Now, with the many, many girls I’ve been with, Ha-Ha. It’s Braxton securing the hallway, ensuring I was tucked in, and then taking his post on the corner of the bed I remember most. “B Prepared For Virgil.”

Wednesday, November 29, 2023

Tale 151 ~B Prepared For Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. And as Romans 6:23 puts it, “For the wages of sin is death.” Positivity this morning? No way.

As a matter of fact, since I’m going all biblical so late this morning at 8:00 AM, I had an epiphany. And no, not that my son is dead, and he’s never coming back. Hell, my Braxton, “I said he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” But I give more of a (crap) about him than… Hell, God the Father, my actual father, myself? And that’s where the epiphany comes in. Do you remember Inspector Echo, that I existed in five-minute increments? The world will end in five minutes, so I’m all “Three Little Birds?” “Don’t worry about a thing.” That’s what sleep is to me. Last night, I didn’t even bother turning on the sleep meditation, so I had dark thoughts. And in a word like King Theoden… DEATH!

How many pop culture references is that so far? Christianity, Mockingjay, The Killers, Bob Marley, and Return of the King. Anyway, long story short. I don’t want to wake up. And when I do to days like this… My father’s friend is replacing the water heater, which means I’m broke. I know, Inspector, I’m a broken freaking record. The floor and walls are still messed up. There’s no food save for a bucket of shrimp (like nine). And some BBQ. When’s payday again? And does it even matter? Am I beginning to understand that earworm that’s been in my head for a few days? Braxton? It’s Michael Jackson’s “Who Is It?” Particularly the chorus, “And it doesn’t seem to matter. And it doesn’t seem right.”

But nothing is. I was not prepared to be without my son. And it seems Virgil isn’t ready to be without me. He’s been awfully cuddly the past few days. Does he want the whole bed? And so what if I leave, backpack and all? I remember when I was going to the library every day, and for what? And again, I can go to the Day Job and get my slave wage. The critic isn’t going to like any of this. Take it as a result of my failure Inspector to “Be A Man.” The Macho Man had it right. Hell! Mulan did. And my boys are better men. At the same time, I want to be a dead one. But fatherhood equals manhood, right. B Prepared For Virgil

1032 Days Without B III, Day 473 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 148 ~Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs~

WillLeave a comment

Is it the water heater, the A.C., or the weather? It could be anything. I talk about wanting to be a family man, and I’m not even a decent “homeowner.” Always crying to my Olds or my lost little boy. Then there’s Virgil. “Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs.”

Sunday, November 26, 2023

Tale 148 ~Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs~

To Will
It’s the Man In The Mirror… But what circle of Hell am I? It’s a strange question for so late in the morning.

8:00 AM? More like 8:18, to be specific. But you were up at 4:00 AM, and what did that show? Bladder control? More like Damage Ctrl. For the most part, it was only Piper Niven getting you going. Now that sounds like a confession for Inspector E. What’s wrong with liking big chicks? Nothing at all, and neither was ending B III’s suffering when “The Man Comes Around.” And are there any other would-be, could-be, or should-be sins you want to confess this Sunday morning? Sloth perhaps? Since you don’t see yourself getting out of bed. There’s always a bit of Envy. And you’re annoyed at Virgil. It beats Indifference. Do you remember how Braxton ended up? And you? Your existence? These, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Princess Tamer 2 by Neil Bimbeau. – And Backyard Dungeon 4
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 017* No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 024* No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Talk about going down. Up and down, hmm; with your toy as the song goes (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction. And neither can you. But that’s by choice. You don’t belong in the Second Circle anyway. And can you be positive for once? Should you repeat the A.I.s words? Ha! I let the words fall out of my mouth Saturday. I wasn’t myself, and it showed. God, I hate liars. Well, next to those that make excuses for everything. For example, why can’t you walk down the hall and lie on the couch? Or go down to B’s room and bring Virgil to you—scaredy cat. For once, you’re talking about somebody else and not you. Then again, every Sunday, you write Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Missing Pieces…Broken Heart: A Recovery Guide…
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 024* No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

And at least two of them require you to get out of this bed and head downstairs. And what fresh Hell is this? I can tell you this whole week will have you like Noah—fearing that freaking flood along the floor. And you have yet to see how bad it is right now. “How to Stop Worrying and Start Living.” It would help if you tried reading that again, I think. But no, you went through two more books of… relations with computer babes, elves, and demons taking off their clothes. You’re back with the crying over fur babies portion of the program. You don’t need mirrors to see yourself. Moaning and sweating over girls, tears about your boy, or the mess on the floor. Virgil, I’ll Be Downstairs.

1029 Days Without B III, Day 470 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 145 ~Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton~

WillLeave a comment

What sound does a turkey make? “It’s turkey time. Gobble, gobble.” Personally, I’m more JLAW than JLO, but anyway. Braxton and I didn’t have many Thanksgiving traditions. I hope my Ma sends food. Virgil dreams the same. “Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton.”

Thursday, November 23, 2023

Tale 145 ~Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton~

1026 Days Without B III, Day 467 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m sure you went all “U Name It” wherever you are. Now Virgil and I…

Well, Virgil might as well be a turkey because he’s not doing any talking. But I’m guessing he knows what day it is, considering he’s been extra cuddly this morning. And look at me being a meanie, pushing him by his big belly away from me. But at least I got up “on time.” And what does that mean? I’ve got nowhere to go today. Will Ma come out today?

Your grandmommy, B, hasn’t failed yet, but as the song goes, “What’s My Age Again?” Next to your death, getting older is my prevalent thought. Two worst days of existence. But shouldn’t we be talking about one of the best of yours? Thanksgiving is Christmas. At least to you, it was/is. To me, Another Day

I can’t even think about turkey or ham with that energy shot I took an hour ago. I did mention that I’m wide awake. Woke, as it were. Should I watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade? I’m at a loss as to what to do today. We had no traditions, B III. Nothing at all…

I’ve even gone back to last year, and it looks like I was in the same place or thereabouts.

The freaking Day Job. Tomorrow will be Hell! So I’ll spend most of the day wishing I was a deep-fried turkey. Watching people burn down their houses is one of the many things I’ve been up to this morning. One of the more… innocent. Then, Karlee Grey in “Native Passion.” Eww.

And to think there was a time I was rather glad you got into trouble so I had alone time.

I would give it all up if I could have you back again, Braxton. That would be something to be thankful for. But honestly, I feel like the Native Americans in the aftermath of meeting the pilgrims. No Bueno. Like the film Silent Hill, “Your Faith Brings Death.” Offending everyone everything today? Turkeys, Christians, Ma, Native Americans… All the reasons I’m going to fry, roast, um, bake? I’m going to Hell, but I’m not a cook B. It’s why I’ll be thankful for your grandmommy. I’m thankful Virgil is alive. Always and forever, I’m thankful and damn proud you’re my boy. Virgil Talks Turkey Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad