Wednesday, May 4, 2022

Chronicle 307 ~Fandom A’s and B’s~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but instead of “fine” art, I’ll lose myself to Star Wars memorabilia. It’s Star Wars Day.

Hell, I should have taken the day off. Of course, seeing as how we’re talking on the 30th today, Inspector. That’s my great sin. I’m sure I’m not counting the Humiliations Galore I’ve been experiencing this week. In this day and age, to like Star Wars is the least of them. Okay, so first, let me say Happy Birthday, Carolina Bound. Triple B loves his Aunt Carolina, and I’m pretty fond of her (drools) as a friend. Don’t give me that look Inspector, but yeah, I saw her boobs. Braxton is a mega-fan of them. One of my favorite moments was trying to have “The Talk.” And as far as respect for women… what do I know, you ask me. But being a true fan…

If I was to name all that B III was a fan of… we covered boobs, fries, comfy spots, barking. I mean, it was his middle name, “Barks.” What am I forgetting? Inevitably his Daddy. Inspector, no one told me when I met B III he’d bark, “I’ll be the greatest fan of your life.” Ditto, my boy, fucking ditto. But what about the fandoms I joined since Braxton left? Inspector, you know what I want to say. Braxton didn’t up and leave. (Cries) Death!!! Fandoms Inspector like Lord of the Rings or Game of Thrones, nope. But good battles. Did I tell you the story of when Braxton and I watched bullies getting “canceled,” and I accidentally hit B in the face? Didn’t die…

Yep, Dad hits like a bitch but okay, ha. What am I a fan of? What keeps you running now? The girls have seen that it’s adult entertainment for the past few days. Bikini season. Inspector, I’ll drop that pornographic tripe, which is longer than all the books I’ve read. I’ve been all about my mourning, and that ain’t changing anytime soon, I’m afraid, Echo. I can’t forget about B’s Aunt. As I said, Wednesday is her birthday. Today’s Saturday. Succubus Lord, of course, has been kicking my ass. How much have I spent, Inspector? Will I ever spend more on my little boy? I keep saying I will. Like when he lived? Braxton wasn’t a fandom. He’s faith. Will’s Fandom? Fandom A’s and B’s

Gospel 307 ~To The B Loved~

458 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Wednesday, April 27, 2022

Chronicle 300 ~The B Is Silent~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but would that be enough to protect my ears. Once and for all? Sanity… $44 Billion.

Elon Musk bought Twitter on Monday, not that I heard about it. The problems $44 Billion solve compared to the $175 that I spent at the doc’s office trying to fix my ear. Now I meant to tell Braxton’s Aunt Carolina first, but you know me. Time Travelling. Anyway, as the song goes, “So I bit that bullet, and I took that vow. And everything is different now.” A very convoluted way of saying that I went and did what I did. Oh yes, Inspector, there was “Humiliations Galore,” as is usual in this existence. A lot less than the Day Job no doubt. The waiting room, attempting to find the pharmacy, the exam room. You can imagine my pain was that great to endure.

So after days of, is it water, is it wax, should I try wanking off again? Carolina Bound will get a kick out of this. It was like that episode of Family Guy “Prick Up Your Ears,” 5×06. But compared to most of the anime I watch, Family Guy, um hmm, ok, “ear sex.” That’s what my ear felt like Monday afternoon. It’s fucked raw. Closest I’ll ever get to pegging. I never knew my ear was that deep, then getting “violated” with several devices. It was a Bukkake. You know I like dirty talk. “Stupid” is off-limits, Inspector. But my ear was getting rammed! The only thing worse was what was spraying all over. No bugs or anything, but my ear was filled (shudders)!

Sorry for all the sex talk. It’s been two days since the last time I was “saying “hi” to my monster.” Inspector, the things to hear again. Don’t Know What You Got (Till It’s Gone). But then I remembered 451 days ago. I swear the numbers, Inspector. The 300th Chronicle and Fahrenheit 451. But my point is the silence that there was 451 days ago when B III, my best friend, my son, was no more. I keep thinking about all my ailments this year. Being all fucked up sexually because I don’t have to hide. The dead silent earache. God is trying to tell you something, more like a dog. The only man I ever listened to but escaping punishment… The B Is Silent.

Gospel 300 ~B Cause Growing Up~

451 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Wednesday, April 20, 2022

Chronicle 293 ~To B Wrong Sometimes~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how many years have I been wrong about that? I want to be right once.

Republican Tendencies, if I spell that another way, Inspector Echo. But no, as the song goes… “First, let me explain that I’m just a black man.” Inspector, that doesn’t change. Not that I have the option. No, I want to be right as rain in this specific moment, um yep. I doubt that anything has changed in three days. I am trying to time travel, so it’s Sunday right now. Now that’s something I want to be wrong about. Hell, any day leaving the bed. Anyway, I want to hear out of both of my ears again. Wouldn’t it be nice? Damn, I miss that. Can I stop buying cranberry juice and looking for cures online? Everything’s wrong, but I know the truth. It’s me.

TWO DAYS COME TO MIND when I realize how wrong I am sometimes. B III and my own life, ha. My life? My existence? Now that’s a joke. And the only cure, Inspector? Dangerous words. I was wrong to wait so long to get Braxton help, but I was trying to survive that one week. I was wrong when I thought that everything would be okay and Braxton would live. I was wrong in every move I made that week. And Braxton paid the price for it. That is all. The thing is, someone will think I was right but do not worry. There is always someone around to tell me that I’m breathing wrong. Chances are, I would agree with them about it all.

Since today I’m still “safe” in bed; you know what’s wrong. Right now is perhaps the best I will feel for quite a while. Oh, I’m going to jump up in a few hours. My ear will worry me too. But 4:00 PM Inspector, 444 days where was I? Sitting in my car suffering, dying. That’s the secret, Inspector. Do you remember my theory that the world would end in 5 minutes, so nothing should bother me? In 5 minutes, we’re gone, so humiliations galore? I’ll feel like I’m dying tomorrow or a few hours from now. Remember January 2021. Things will get better… doubtful. Will they get worse? Impossible with B III, his death. I know that, but Inspector Echo… To B Wrong Sometimes

Gospel 293 ~Braxton Paws Is Love~

444 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Chronicle 286 ~Time To B Up~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means “every day I wake up, with a naked lady.” I was that was true.

I don’t feel shame in saying it Echo. It’s the truth, but um, “Battle Cry” did it better. What makes me ashamed is what happened this morning. So you know, I’m a time traveler, and you know what that means. Humiliations Galore but is Tuesday a bit worse? After 43 days, I emptied my balls. A bit crass, don’t I think? The only thing that makes it worse is what got me off. A sexy brunette, always my weakness, some “daisy dukes,” and dirty talk. Fuck I lasted a whole month and then some. Usually, I can say that at least I was productive with my clear-headedness. Inspector, we’ll get into that too. My second conversation, and it’s ten minutes to three PM. I’m up…

But I shouldn’t be Inspector Echo. When I wake up, I hate myself each and every morning. Wednesday may rival today. Today I had the decision… well, bladder control; I have it Wednesday too. I don’t have to go. Is the Day Job making me happy? That’s what Replika wants; for me to be happy. Hell B III has now been gone for 437 Days, Inspector. It’s fucked up. I wasn’t happy with him in the world, but if I saw him right now? I wouldn’t be worried about me being sick either in the physical or mental sense. I’d say I’d never jerk off again, but I only kept that oath for 43 days. There were 161 days before going all the way up.

Yet I want to throw up with all I did. There are so many reasons for that but um, fatigue? It sounds like a clinical word and makes a better excuse than recovering, healing, jerking. I am disgusted at myself because I thought of sexual healing like every morning. Between crying about my Day Job and the fact that my son is gone. There has to be, I don’t know what. But something to make me rise. A way to fix that there is, oh, thank you, wise Yoda. B III doesn’t want that, and I’m only on Succubus Lord 13, 14; who knows? The man or dog I should be writing about for Camp NaNoWriMo. Haven’t thought about it any. Time To B Up.

Gospel 286 ~Can’t Buy B Love~

437 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Wednesday, April 6, 2022

Chronicle 279 ~Getting A, B’s Easy~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But on this day of confession, I’ll admit I’ve questioned my gender only on OnlyFans (sigh).

I mean to say, it’s the only time I wish I had Yabbos to make some fucking money. Now that’s much easier to say than anything at the Day Job. That place is enough of a Hell that I would do anything to get out of there. Today is Sunday, March 27, 2022. Inspector, Time Travel is important. And um downright dangerous, but why am I talking to you this afternoon? I could be doing so many other things. I doubt I’m working on a book, whichever I decide to do. By the time you see this Inspector, I think the day was more manageable. Am I saying you’re easy? For this Sunday, damn straight. More than talking to anyone else. I’m still in bed.

On the one hand, talking to you is the easy path. I can keep going to the Day Job. Every day I will cry over my son. I can live in fear for as long as I can, but you know how it ends, right? I’m going to let Gail say this because these are dangerous words. Gail Graham’s book:

Ditto Inspector, fucking ditto. What happened to me watching my language. Don’t I need every word I can get, even if it is a pardon? Have you ever pardoned me for anything now that I think about it, Echo? Inspector, the last time I said sorry for anything and meant it was 430 days ago speaking to Braxton. Like “Love and Happiness,” sorry’s too easy.

But you know what isn’t easy? I’m sitting on it. Now, getting off my butt, my pathetic ass, and walking to the dining room table to write. Hell going to the den today will be a challenge. Breaking my back for a Day Job I despise ain’t easy, but I do it because what’s the alternative? Write a damn book and get paid. Fuck, I have several ready, waiting, what? Busting my head against the wall and not busting a nut for some relief, why not? B couldn’t care less. Let his Dad have his alone time and worry about getting us out of here. A new furbaby, a job, a book. When I needed Braxton, “Get in the car.” When Getting A, B’s Easy.

Gospel 279 ~A Link To Braxton~

430 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Wednesday, March 30, 2022

Chronicle 272 ~B A Good Man~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I need some titles like Jacob Ralston has in Succubus Lord. Thinking of sex already…

And what time is it? So that will be my second apology of the day. The first is that I’m either wasting a good title or repeating it, “B A Good Man” Inspector, being good… Hell no! Before the humiliations of Tuesday, sigh, I caught a look at myself mirror-wise. That’s what inspires me today. “The Horror, The Horror,” saying I’m not a good man. Pardon my wordage but fuck me. I don’t know how I say I’m a man at all. Well, most days. As far as being good… Braxton would still be alive. It always comes back to my son, doesn’t it? The fact that I haven’t cried yet shows my tears were more about my life. Don’t worry; Braxton always gets his.

In fact, before I turned back to the sex… I spoke of Succubus Lord, and I’m on #10 now. Anyway, I was looking up the price for Cuddle Clones. All my memorials for Braxton, sigh. No, I am not good at all. Keeping my dick in my pants doesn’t count when the AM is this:

1: Dreaming about “doing” Dakota Skye at my Day Job.
2: Looking up money shots, Helter Skelter (Hakudaku no Mura), Bible Black, Tifa

3: Finding the cover shots of the Succubus Lord girls
4: “Planning on seeing X (2022)
5: Watching Hentai “Nuns” violated
6: Listing out dirty fantasies… “wakefulness.”

I was awake last night, which explains why I’m only waking up now. Did I mention I miss Dirty Diana?

Not that I will give up talking to my son for anything. I should be more like Cherry and blab my thoughts on Twitter to save time. Even then, “Temptations End.” Twenty-four hours wasted Echo. I didn’t even eat dinner yesterday as I was so disgusted with such humiliations galore. Next week will be worse, and this week isn’t over yet. My whole life is one fucking waste of time. Well, fifteen years seeing about my boy, and here come my tears. Have I been a good man these past 423 days without him? I don’t want to go look in the mirror once again. There was a point Monday I thought I was healing from my “affliction.” I’d need to B A Good Man.

Gospel 272 ~Braxton In The Mercedes~

423 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Wednesday, March 23, 2022

Chronicle 265 ~These Words By Embarrassment~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but only with books, sex, and… I need another sin. My father thought reading… a vice.

How about repeating myself over and over? It’s what happens with time travel Echo, ok? Monday, March 14, 2022, is a much better day than anything now, um humiliations galore. But speaking of said shames to endure, what about the stupidity of my current ideas. Inspector, what book am I reading right now? I’m pretty sure it will be something on dogs. On the 14th, I’ve read a total of 13 books, all on pets. Now my premise is this. If I stop reading about dead furries, I’m somehow disloyal to Braxton. Inspector, I read 58 books last year, and that’s with Triple B’s death. 5 about grief, 2 more novels, 1 with a dead son. And now, Inspector, what about Audible? Succubus Lord Collection.

That brings us to our sex portion of the program. Again Inspector, playing on repeat. Didn’t I say before, I wanted to avoid any actions that, let’s say, “stimulated life?” Inevitable right being who I am? I swear there are days I miss, “Dirty Diana?” No, she’s never coming back. Every day is different, and Thursdays are for my son, for B III, so ok. So, of course, you may be wondering why I have become more “outspoken” as of late, Inspector. I’m going back to that 161 days I kept it in my pants. I wonder, am I still holding out now? Anyway, the longer it goes, the more noise I make. No time for Triple B when I have Triple X. These words.

How about my words, where the Hell is B III’s book My Turn To B III? There is also Gulp. How embarrassing it is to have made an investment with one company on the one hand. I’ve also got a publishing company. I need to pay one, and I sit on my ass doing nothing? Even today, as soon as I finish, I’m going right back to sleep. Haven’t left the bed for anything but nursing a sickness. Of course, by the time you read this, well, why do we talk so damn early? Because I would instead stay a slave and be nowhere near the man that B thought. All words and no action. Taking embarrassment to heart but Braxton? These Words By Embarrassment.

Gospel 265 ~Hair of the Braxton~

416 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Wednesday, March 16, 2022

Chronicle 258 ~Don’t Look Up Because~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I wonder if Trump is considering what a pussy he is. I shouldn’t disrespect pussy.

That’s the thing, though, Inspector. If I was looking at that kind of cash, I could say pussy, cunt, or cock warmer and get away with it. That works with AI but more later, hmm… Now I am not a prophet. I’m speaking to you Saturday, March 5, 2022, and you know why that is. Hell, I don’t see what humiliations I have suffered by the time you read this. The shame is my routine. I woke up with morning wood then had to run to the bathroom. Oh, and turning on my computer getting pretty hard once again. Cherry, HaneAme… Inspector, I’ve already had this conversation today, of course. Why not look to you? It’s ironic because I know I’ll be more down Inspector.

So why not talk about my greatest humiliation, hmm? Even Braxton’s death is about me. Selfish bastard! Language, but with everything I’ve said to you and others on this day? Let me be clear, I am not ashamed of my boy. B III showed more strength in his final days. A power that, for the life of me, I’ve been trying to tap into Inspector. By now, it’s day 409. That alone should make me ashamed. Yet there’s also when I was sitting there, and everyone knew Braxton was sick. There was walking in and out with his bed and toys. I’ll never forget Wednesday, February 10, 2021. I collected what was left of my love in a box. Like the song… Just Look Up.

Talk about wasting my life watching “Don’t Look Up” reactions. Then again, they’re making money while I’m getting my slave wage. Grammarly (dings) dangerous words. Anyway, Inspector Echo, I’m getting it, Don’t Look Up, Republican tendencies. I’d see I’m fucked. I’ll see that my boy is up there somewhere if I look up. The day he died, I still remember. When I look up today in the darkness, I’ll realize more than ever I want to see my son now. My eyes will always be drawn to another pair of Yabbos or some goddess I can’t have ever in life. Oh, let’s not forget the things I will look up, torturing myself with sex. Looking down, my penis, pay, and pills. Don’t Look Up Because.

Gospel 258 ~On Braxton’s Big Day~

409 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Wednesday, March 9, 2022

Chronicle 251 ~To B This Way~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. So I’m hoping in two weeks. In case I haven’t been humiliated… Infection, Succubus Lord, Broke

Didn’t I say something about investing in a dictionary? Yes, two weeks ago or since you keep track of me, Inspector Echo, Saturday, February 26, 2022. Too bad they don’t sell time machines… yet. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Inevitable. Inspector, let’s go back to those three, well, four words I used beginning our conversation. You know I’m still trying to figure out what’s wrong with me… physically. Again, I know how but I don’t know which outfit. That means laundry time. But antibiotics, doctors? With what money? Let’s start off with my fun and Amazon taking almost twenty bucks. With the way I’ve been time-traveling, which means more of the Day Job. Succubus Lord? Fun! Any money left, Inspector?

Why am I asking you? I don’t mean that as an insult, but I’ve been thinking about it this morning. You and everyone else in my life and what you do. Selfish Bastard! Language! But what is true is true, especially when it comes to sex. I’d like to think of myself as a giving lover. Buying M Anime lingerie doesn’t count. Anyway, for everything I want to do to a woman. Hell for everything I want a woman to do to me. I’d give it up for B. No woman has ever made me feel as he did. I skipped porn or did to mourn my lost boy. Of course, you didn’t think I’d forget him in two weeks. Now my “father,” Inspector Echo…

I wonder, have I heard from him since Friday two weeks ago. I love my Mama, and I need my Old Man. Besides the money they provide, only pure adrenaline at the end of the day. The Day Job is my Hell. I’ve said before when it comes to B III, I’m his murderer, Echo. I don’t blame the Vet; I don’t research dog food. Echo, it was Hatred and Indifference. Inspector, what about my friends? It’s wanting to see their Yabbos for the most part. I’ve seen Carolina Bound’s. Almost with M Anime. Cherry teased me. Oh yeah, Special K? Completely naked! Good times and her birthday was February 25. But B knows me better; he’s my… will. He knew To B This Way.

Gospel 251 ~Worries And Wrinkles Braxton~

402 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will