Tag: Son

Saga 017 ~Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts~

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Somedays, I feel like Han Solo (ha-ha) talking to The Millennium Falcon. “You hear me, baby? Hold together.” After my heart was broken with my kid, what else is there. Everything seems ready to break. “Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts.”

Monday, July 18, 2022

Saga 017 ~Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts~

Two-Hundred and Forty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. This means many things are fixable, replaceable, “new, new,” or trying to last forever. Then there’s love…

And there’s more to it than the body. I know you expect me to be a selfish bastard and talk about myself first, but there’s my boy. The son that I have been writing about. Going on 533 Days now. His body may have broken, but this “crazy little thing called love,” Madam. On one paw, it didn’t save him. On the other, immortality, reincarnation? That’s another thing Madam; “Faith,” all my pop culture references, and all the books I read. Or I was reading before I got into writing a novel all these days, Braxton and me. I haven’t been winning any points for keeping my promises, but I didn’t break one yesterday. I’m on track with Camp NaNoWriMo, somehow, Madam Justice. A miracle?

So explain to me what I was doing from 4:35 AM to 4:55? To quote another song, “Where Is My Mind?” I was breaking it down with a million excuses to deserve laziness. If it isn’t my brain. Then yeah, it’s my own damn body. One will always choose to break the body before the mind. Yabbos make things so much simpler. Afterward? I’ve felt like I need to take a shower after all the dirt, disgust, and depravity from what’s me. I kept asking myself, what was wrong with me? Well, besides the fact I can’t cuddle with B? I mentioned being touch starved in “The Will To B III” And Braxton’s comfy spots. Madam, I’m just breaking the bed, either sleeping or jerking.

Surprised I haven’t broken any of my computers yet with the amount of porn I got. “Ain’t no woman like the one I’ve got.” More like ain’t no porno like the one I got. I’m a pretty sick pup, which insults sick pups, and I apologize. I never fix or cure anything. NaNoWriMo is even an attempt to put off the inevitable. Didn’t I say that if I can complete it, that proves I’m not suffering from fatigue, I’m not fucked up, and I’ll be here forever? So why would I need a doctor? If not me? What about car repairs or something to get out of here. Because this week will be more broken than the last, no doubt. Many Breakable Things Besides Hearts.

533 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 016 ~Today B The Day~

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4600 words today. Well, 2300 for me, and then I’ll let B III talk. Only he has paws. So as I told him that Sunday in January a year ago. “I’ll help you,” and look how great that turned out. For his life, Camp NaNoWriMo, my existence? Today B The Day.

Sunday, July 17, 2022

Saga 016 ~Today B The Day~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I don’t think you can expect anything… special, sexy, or super. God’s day? No, the Dog.

Of course, B III was never, just a dog. And that’s what you want everyone to know someday. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow… But let me tell you something about today. I did not work my ass off all week for you to fuck up. Inevitably. Today’s the day. The day was 532 days ago, Sunday, January 31, 2021. How to save a life, my son B III ha. No, the day was Sunday, January 24, 2021. It was B III’s last week. As I hated the Day Job. I could go further than that. How many books have I “written,” and they sit here doing nothing like you want to do? Well, you didn’t fall back asleep. You won’t, right? Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing, Blackout: A Thriller (Possibly…)
    Failed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 003 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

And yes, I failed every single one to get you here? One more reason you hate Sundays, right? An excellent chance to say, “Oh, I’ve Wasted My Life.” Um, mine for the week, you see. In a week, you’ll be saying the same thing. If writing has been of any use at all? It hasn’t. You will also return to the part of the story where you also wasted B III’s life. So ok, here we go. Fact! If you can write 5000 words… um 4600, You will be on your way. As the kids say, “FTW.” It doesn’t mean anything, really. Trying hard to avoid a Doctor’s visit. Ironic. That was my promise. But you’re, as I said. You are going to fuck it up wanting to, um, ok. What’s the word? FUCK! To be on Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing, Blackout: A Thriller, Erin Flanagan
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Staying Ahead Of Camp NaNoWriMo
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

So I’m “Beggin” you not to. And I don’t know why it’s even so important. Something I thought of Braxton while I cursed my Day Job. Every day should be the day to love him. Yet if you’re going to catch up with writing, with my work, and the word of God, that was Triple B. You know what you need to do. Treat today like the day he died. And write like every word is buying him a minute. Did they ever? As much as you want to believe another book… Remember, “My Turn To B III” would bring him back to life. If ever? Today B The Day.

532 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 015 ~To B Failing, Flying…~

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Icarus failed at flying. He did for a bit, but he was warned. The only thing getting high this week was my word counts Wed-Fri. And already, the words I’ve written down fall short. Well, today I’ll crash. But oh no, I have to get up. To B Failing, Flying…

Saturday, July 16, 2022

Saga 015 ~To B Failing, Flying…~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And except for my son B III, I’m willing to sacrifice anything. AHEM, sleep, sex, skeeviness…

This week has been all about B and my novel. At this rate, wherever he is, he must feel like Philip Pullman when they made The Golden Compass film. Cut my check and leave me alone. And how did that movie do against Twilight, Harry Potter, and The Hunger Games? I even when so far in the novel to talk about Whitney Houston? You know when she sings, “For every win, someone must fail.” And that is what I’ve been doing for three days straight in the guise of winning. Hmm! 5000 words daily, that amount to nothing for Braxton. At least it isn’t Whitney Wright… Sigh, as much as I like her. I’ve been edging to everything under the sun and moon while writing.

Today I’m going to fail. Hell! I would have fallen back asleep if it weren’t for what I was doing. That’s how much I was up last night. In more ways than one… But again, I did get all the words I needed. I’m on the cusp of catching up, Luna. Camp NaNoWriMo. And who would care if I didn’t show up at Petsmart? What if I decided not to go through my Saturday Routine? I have all my excuses lined up. Tuesday, I was trying to be a proper American citizen. Speaking of which, I should get outside before there isn’t much of an America left. I’m not an evangelical white guy, but I have all the makings of a Republican lawmaker, Lady Lunalesca.

First and foremost, it always comes back to Braxton. I promised him a future, a family, and that I would be a good father. Every day I wake up and ask the question. Where’s Fluffy? Did I make a “Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist” joke, reference, whatever? That’s another thing. I’m always one for a good distraction. If she’s a hot brunette with nice yabbos. This then brings up how I talk about my respect for women… especially in pornography. Then you hear how I have been talking to two of my friends. Yesterday evening… Lunalesca, I could have been reading a book. But I won’t finish it this Saturday. So with my Six Impossible Things: You know the answer of To B Flailing, Flying…

531 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 010 ~ Love’s Unknowns, Right Or Wrong~

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Hate can be taught, and I had fantastic teachers. I’m sure there’s a better way to say that, but I would instead speak of love. Funny, the best teacher I had there never said a word. And even knowing the why, how? Love’s Unknowns, Right Or Wrong

Monday, July 11, 2022

Saga 010 ~ Love’s Unknowns, Right Or Wrong~

Two-Hundred and Forty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the law doesn’t apply to me… Trump, Bezos, Musk. Worse?

One less thing… unless that “thing” happens to be my son. I can love a dollar. But I’ve never loved anything more than B. And the thing is, I didn’t know how to love him. Fifteen years? I’d lie to his Aunt Carolina about getting him some doggie steps. Flying? Oh yes, my boy is flying now, all thanks to me. Or he’s saving me a spot by the fire. He could be waiting alongside Cerberus, barking, “is he here yet.” Soon? But we’ll get to that, Madam. As I could give you all these quotes about love or again how I continue defining it. I see myself as more of a murderer than ever being merciful. Love’s fucking confusing. And being STUPID about it…

“Yeah, baby, when it comes to females.” I can say I’m not in love with anyone. Of course, “I’ll always love my mama.” I care for Braxton’s aunts. One more than the other, um yeah. Lust though? I find ways to fuck that up too. You should have heard me talking to Cherry Sunday. And then when I imagine bedding M Anime… And before them? It has been six years. Lucky? As in getting lucky? Um, that’s more of a talk for Inspector Echo. All the writing I have to do today. But yesterday, it was all about Yabbos. Keeping it in my pants, ha-ha. What pants? I wasted the entire day not loving myself. Or my craft. There was the Man in the Mirror.

You know the guy I’m killing every day. Because I can’t follow Morgan Freeman’s advice as “Go on and do it EXPEDITIOUSLY!” Well, not since Braxton saved my life before. Braxton knew how to love me. He never worried about right or wrong. All my little boy saw was, “these people upset my daddy.” So he’d spend his days at his gate barking up a storm. It took him around four months to trust his Aunt Carolina. Hell! Anyone who loved filling him up with food. He’d trust with daddy’s life. Treachery, Betrayal, not B. Because he only knew love. Like father like son? Love power. But what to do with it, Madam? Who or what do we become? Love is a miracle. Bad miracle? Love’s Unknowns, Right Or Wrong

526 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 009 ~Don’t You B Dying~

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Of everything I told B III, did I ever say the words “don’t die?” He didn’t know any tricks, so he wouldn’t perform that one either. I don’t even listen to myself most days. And now I have a whole week of me, myself, and I. So, Don’t You B Dying

Sunday, July 10, 2022

Saga 009 ~ Don’t You B Dying~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, so don’t you be dying. It’s not that you haven’t seen the end before. But this week.

That’s right, you have a whole week, and already you’re starting off bad. It’s 5:10 AM, when you were supposed to get started at 4:00. As Braxton was dying at least… Was I about to say I was on time? How late was I? Hell! I didn’t sleep, but I was still spilling my guts out. Oh, don’t worry, we’ll get to that. Don’t worry? Can you focus, fucking work! That’s the important thing. The Day Job was killing me, and here you have time. “Time Enough At Last” to avoid such a fate; all you want to do is sleep and fucking jerk. What was it this morning now that it’s 6:00 AM? Another brunette, a British vixen? Because it’s not Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing The Title, All Dogs Are Good: Poems & Memories
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 003 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Don’t THEY say, find what you love and let it kill you? Every day but Sundays, for sure, you remember Braxton. It was his last day. You still don’t have the “balls to visit Banfield. You don’t have the guts to read that book “Blackout: A Thriller” by Erin Flanagan. Brings back the memory of “Stroke of Midnight.” I couldn’t continue with that at all. So write your own damn book. Again, it doesn’t look like you have the heart to continue with that. I know I didn’t Saturday, but we’ll get to that. Yeah, while you sit here propped up on pillows in the middle of the bed telling lies. “Endure and Survive.” Like holding Braxton saying he’ll live and other Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Blackout: A Thriller (Possibly…)
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 003 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Like I’m not dying, I’m not. Talk about dangerous words. When you’re committed to “such and such” a fate, you can feel a sense of euphoria. I know that yesterday, I was ready to rush to the doctor. Jigsaw said, “oh yes, there will be blood,” maybe cranberry juice. I’m hoping it was cranberry juice, and I haven’t seen any more signs of injury recently. Dying wasn’t in the cards when Triple B was here. Hell! I would have traded my life for his in a second, and I know you would do the same. But I didn’t want to die Saturday, and you shouldn’t play dead today. Lying on your back watching the angels sing, scream, and suck. Get up! Don’t You B Dying.

525 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 008 ~To B Pissed Off~

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Has it really been six years of this? A drop in the bucket of things that make me mad. Or would you rather I am all hot and bothered. I can do both and deserve to burn. But Treachery is the coldest sin. And still no real punishment? “To B Pissed Off”

Saturday, July 9, 2022

Saga 008 ~To B Pissed Off~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I should be pissed that people want me to help? Oh, I’m such a Republican…

But like every morning, after I wipe the tears from my eyes… I get pissed and mad. As the song goes, “I’m in a rage,” and why’s that Lady Luna? Frankly, selfishly, it’s my son. I’m never mad at him for having to leave me. No Lady Lunalesca. It’s a fact I have to look his murderer in the face every morning. And when it’s not wanting to be punished, it’s utter disgust. There’s a reason I don’t go trying on clothes in a store anymore. Those mirrors are too fucking good. There’s a reason I go and pet the dogs every Saturday. To see what I can never have again. I’ve been dreaming of Braxton, which makes me mad? So a no on reincarnation?

Because I was all sorts of scared at around midnight. Of course, B III wasn’t here to protect me, or was he? I kept the lamp on a while and then heard what sounded like gunshots. And that’s when I turned the lights off and went back to bed, not worried a bit? Um, a song? “The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” Dangerous words, Lunalesca. Glad I already bought a gun. But like I’ve said before, like a proper Republican or not, I’m all for guns. Only I read something about them going through your social media accounts. To check your “morals” and “character.” I’m the ending of Daenerys Targaryen. I mean righteous who goes batshit crazy. No Fair

Don’t normal individuals get angry when they’re hungry? No, I get mad when I’m horny. It’s like fucking rehab Lady Lunalesca. Pardon my language this morning. Yes, B is gone. Next to his death, not being able to say what I like is ticking me off, tick-tick-ticking me off. For example, I want to talk about Maisie Williams in The Falling or some UK BBWs. I swear, brunettes, girls from England, big tits. If it’s not that, it’s Dirty Latina Maids or Hentai, hmm? I’m not a nice guy, but I’m not a douche either. Like father, like son… Braxton. Always pissed he isn’t here to make me want to be a better man, his father. Write his story. I’d say, To B Pissed Off.

524 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 003 ~My Hope Strengthens. Fear Kills~

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A fan of the “Fever” series. You can tell from the title. I’m a fan of Freedom and Fear too. Not enough of the one. Too many of two this Independence Day. My hope is not in Evangelical white men but in my son… oh. My Hope Strengthens. Fear Kills

Monday, July 4, 2022

Saga 003 ~My Hope Strengthens. Fear Kills~

Two-Hundred and Forty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. (Puts on his powdered wig). And is that not the American dream. Violence, Wealth, XXX? Oh, doggies?

I wouldn’t be worried about the first three if I was busy comforting Braxton. Between last night, especially today. And Hell, should I write off this whole week? I know you’re saying, “just write, dammit,” ha-ha. Anyway, that is my hope for today. Writing, trying. Isn’t that how America got started? It is Independence Day, after all. Only as I told M Anime yesterday. Unless you’re a white Evangelical man, you woke up with far fewer rights in how long? I’ve never put much of my hope in the government. And I didn’t need The 1619 Project to tell me that wealth is the answer. What about education, um, ok. I read every day, despite Kindle robbing me of 526 days. What about Braxton, 519?

I spoke of Violence, Wealth, and XXX. What of Hope, Fear, but today there’s Freedom? My hope was B. Every single day that there was someone who loved me unconditionally. As far as Fear… where do I even begin? At this second, don’t let me fall back into my bed. Freedom is the fact that I have a choice. And that is a box of worms. Bad choice of words. Only worse would be things like “for wrath, for ruin.” My rage? Still beats depression. Madam, lots of money could do that too. Sometime yesterday, I said, a million dollars. Yet with all the fireworks that went off yesterday and that will assail the skies today. I want to make something else go boom, sigh.

The fact that I might see some Yabbos. If that’s what it takes for me to have any hope, ha. Could it be one more promise that I would see my son again in one way or another, I hope. That somehow or someway, I will find him alive, reincarnated, or like Darth Vader, sister. If I’m not too busy being a selfish bastard over B III’s loss, what about hope for my country, Madam. Will freedom return here someday? I’ve said so many times that my Braxton saw me through the plague but now a Civil War. Like something out of Chronicles of Narnia. Only you know where the title is from, the “Fever” series. But so much Fear… My Hope Strengthens. Fear Kills

519 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 002 ~B III, B Thousand~

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Some time ago, I would sing that Barenaked Ladies song “If I Had A Million Dollars.” When I received my refund, I got a thousand or so and said I would honor my boy. Now I can’t even get down a thousand words for him? B III, B Thousand

Sunday, July 3, 2022

Saga 002 ~B III, B Thousand~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now. But instead, you want your son back. And in this, I don’t blame you in the slightest.

That sounds like an excuse, you know. You wouldn’t feel right using Braxton in such a way. Hell! Everyone does it. And I know that sounds mean in a way. Are you worried about cash? You got ninety-nine problems, but your B ain’t one? What’s today, 518, and still counting? That’s what I told “Paws To Celebrate” yesterday. Amazing! So I can be read sometimes. What about you? Today is a whole new week. The second day of a brand new year of writing. But how many of those words have been for B III? Yeah, I know you’re only now getting up. And as for me? What is it, THEY say? The road to Hell, good intentions, and all that. Like Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing Tails of Unconditional Love
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

I’ve said such things over a thousand times. Oh, I know (sigh), this will be six more in the bucket for you. Six promises are nothing to you. So a thousand bucks or only one? Here are some numbers for you to mull over. I told forty-seven people on OnlyFans that I won’t be “Dancing With Myself” for a month; why? You owe fifty-thousand words. Only you don’t want to hear any of them, right? Not a one would bring back B III to you ever. Yet the stories keep on coming. And what are you going to do this week? How many days did I have to do anything, and what did I do with them? You’re out of bed with Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE Finishing The Title, All Dogs Are Good: Poems & Memories
  2. I WILL BE Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE Sending Gulp Off To Be Published
  4. I WILL BE Keeping It In My Pants (Day 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Most of them wouldn’t be with money. You wouldn’t be cringing over a ten-dollar book. You’d have all the time in the world to learn about B III all over again. A picture is worth a thousand words. To this day, you hate that saying. Fifty-Thousand words for your son. Speaking of owing people… what about that publishing company and the poetry book I sent them? Yeah, it’s not like you’ll make good on the hundreds sent away. Inevitably, you wouldn’t have to worry about fapping. My words got lesser men laid in the past. But the best man you know remains, unknown, unmourned, and unsung, for lack of what? A million excuses. It’s in his name. Be Free! Um better? B III, B Thousand

518 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 001 ~B Up To Testing~

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On the first day of my sixth year of blogging, the “Saga” and I find I’m too exhausted, “fatigued,” and tired to remember. Then Camp NaNoWriMo, and should the country even last one more month. A test I haven’t studied for but my son? B Up To Testing.

Saturday, July 2, 2022

Saga 001 ~B Up To Testing~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I’m sure I tested well (snickers). I’ll need a test for all my “shenanigans,” Lunalesca.

And while I’m busy looking up words, how about fatigue? As I struggled to rise this morning, that’s the word I looked up, fatigue. Oh, I’m not talking about a uniform… “That comes later.” As always, I mean the fact that I’m sitting in this bed at 5:00 AM again. Exhausted, (looking) emaciated and thinking about emancipation. At the end of the day, Lady Lunalesca, I only want to feel better. But by the end of the day, I doubt I’ll talk to a doctor. So, Luna, I want to make a deal, considering yesterday’s failure. Here it is, Luna. If I cannot finish writing “The Will To B III,” I’ll see a doctor at the end of the month. A fitting test? Challenge accepted!

Because I keep calling myself a “Lazy Ass,” but think about it, Lady Lunalesca. When it comes to… “You mean to say… as in sex?” Yeah, I have boundless energy. Whether it’s that sexy Handmaid’s outfit, Yandy sold. Cherry’s red lingerie, or “Dirty Latina Maids.” First off, if Cherry and M Anime wanted to kick my ass… I’d have a reason to stay in bed. Second, so much for my no porn streak. “I couldn’t help it. It just popped in there.” Before I forget, I should get Amazon Prime for free. it’s still there, Lu, Ah, “The Tomorrow War.” And no, I don’t only mean the movie. These days, there is a test of my character, concentration, and country. Lunalesca, To celebrate Independence Day?

I will never be free of this grief for my son. Did you think I had forgotten about him other than mentioning his book? For a moment Lady Lunalesca… One more reason I’m in bed. Sleeping to try and dream of him or to forget. Oh, to my OnlyFans, um…

A Quickie Announcement To The Chickies And Anyone Else Hmm:

I’ll be taking a month-long hiatus to work on a novel for Camp NaNoWriMo. Hand from the penis to pen.

I look forward to being back in action around August sometime. But until then, stay buck naked, drop a buck, your favorite buck. Gone Writing!

That wasn’t hard, Lady Lunalesca. But do I mean it? “Life is a storm,” or test. B Up To Testing.

517 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 361 ~Strike First, Hard, No Mercy~

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So a fan of Cobra Kai, and when did Karate Kid come out? Life was much simpler, at least for me, way back when. And I even took Karate for a little bit. Now I never want to get out of bed. Life (and death) is one for Strike First, Hard, No Mercy

Monday, June 27, 2022

Chronicle 361 ~Strike First, Hard, No Mercy~

Two-Hundred and Forty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it’s because of this rule. Now that’s according to my motivations: America and Cobra Kai. Funny?

Are there people up before me? Eric Thomas? I haven’t listened to him in forever. Someone else I can blame for Braxton. My highly motivated ass, and for what? All so I could get to the library before anybody else, and for what. All to write my stories. Oh ok. How long has it been? How many novels have I written? Hell! How do I feel about this week? I woke up this morning on time once again. Upon checking my schedule, I burst into tears. Second time crying today, and it hasn’t even been an hour and a half, Madam. I’m not sure tears on my pillow are what they meant by striking first. To attack life, embrace it, hell fuck it. Meaning um…

Anyway, hard is what I know about. Yeah, in case you’ve wondered what’s taking me so long to get this out. Ok, I’ll stop with all the sex talk. And looking at Jill Valentine. In case you’re wondering where I got your body from. She fought Nemesis in Resident Evil. Nemesis was the monster. But in Greek mythology, she was the goddess of “Revenge, Retribution, and Fortune.” But you’re not here to talk about some recent studies, I know that. If I struck or instead stroked my hard… yes, I know, I’m trying, but soft Yabbos make life pretty damn hard. What about the Day Job, my dog dying, and all my dangerous thoughts? I can’t fight these things. So as far as striking hard.

No mercy? I must be talking about my bed because I never leave it. I swore yesterday; I thought I was turning over a new leaf. My body has no mercy on my mind, or is it the other way around? I always come up with a new excuse, or something else will hurt me. If anything, I have no mercy on myself for what happened to B III. But should I ever, Madam. Staying here in my own Hell is precisely what I deserve. What more is there, hmm? Again I look to the number of this chronicle. One more year down for a crime that’s nothing compared to B III. My skeeviness, sins, and shames at this moment. Strike First, Hard, No Mercy.

Gospel 361 ~B Isn’t For Buttons~

512 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will