Tag: Stupid

Tale 130 ~B LEAD It Virgil~

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“Oh lord, live inside me, lead me on my way, Lead me home.” Now replace “Lord” with Braxton, and you get the idea. To people, he was an angel or “just a dog.” He was/is a God that led me to exist. Now the man in the mirror or V? B LEAD It Virgil

Wednesday, November 8, 2023

Tale 130 ~B LEAD It Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. But at least I confess. I’m not a man of God. Hell! My little God died. And Goddesses…

We’ll get to that at some point. But as King Ezekiel said, “I’m not your King. I’m not Your Majesty. I ain’t nothing. I’m just some guy”. The truth is I know it. And the lie? Oh, Echo! But no, never! Braxton was/is, forever and always, my firstborn son. Only what do fathers do? A father provides, protects, preaches, and teaches his son how to be a man. A man provides, and I still don’t think of myself as much of one. And yet fatherhood, as I’ve said. Fatherhood is pivotal to manhood, though you can reverse that. I was B III’s leader. Inspector, it was him, though, following Braxton from the beginning to the end. Braxton was the first time I was not led by fear alone. I swear

And now I fear being a leader, a father, and a man again. But what about little Virgil Vivi? At the time, I felt my son’s spirit was leading me —such faith. But now I’m stuck, Dear Echo. I’m not giving up on Virgil. If anything, he keeps me from giving up existing. This leads me to the Day Job. How did I become the leader of a billion men? Or women, Ha-Ha. Don’t they say it’s better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven? Tell me, Inspector. Better yet, All-mighty, “Lord heavens above. I’m only human, after all.” I’ll bend the knee if you can lead me to my boy. Lead, Follow, or get out of the way!

Inspector Echo, if I am to lead you, know exactly who, what, when, where, and why I would want to. But it’s the how that always gets in the way. Yeah, that or “my” courage. Why do I read so much on Jacob Ralston, Grayson Price, and Eddie Hill? I could go on Inspector. Sometimes I wish I could be wholesome being thirty-nine… E-Day continues to haunt me in November. Anyway, I want to be a husband and father. Inspector, I want to lead a family, but I fear that time has come and gone. And B, my son? We would’ve been like Dennis and Domino Hof. I’d own a brothel, have a big studio, and write books. I’d lead someday. B LEAD It Virgil

1011 Days Without B III, Day 452 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 124 ~B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons~

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People want a reset button. I don’t. I’ll wait for someone to push the wrong one, as I’m too lazy to play the game. And This Is America where even doors are an issue, Mr. Cruz. I try not to push people’s buttons, but B, V. B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons.

Thursday, November 2, 2023

Tale 124 ~B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons~

1005 Days Without B III, Day 446 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s only been seven hours, and I’m already counting today as a loss. Nothing new.

Speaking of which, “my” bank account. Not that we talked about that much, Little B. Every day, you had a roof over your head, a collar around your neck, food in your bowl, and… Ain’t that what you’re supposed to do? I’m your child. You had me. I didn’t ask to be here. Whatever happened to that video, Braxton? Were you even here during that? The things I need to give up. But no worries, B III, it will never be Virgil Vivi. He’s here. Still collarless… May I remind you how you’d sometimes get your nail stuck in yours? And with all the button pushing, getting your collar off was just the worst. Did I finally find something I would not like to repeat?

Hell! To me, that’s called breathing. This is one more reason this week’s been horrible. All the time in the world, Braxton. And what have I done with it? I just push a button, son. And as the song goes, “What A Heavenly Way To Die.” Or at least I can pretend a lot B. “When we pretend that we’re dead.” That is not a game Virgil likes to play. Then again, I’m at the dining room table while his pillow is in the wash. Vomiting. Not this again, B. Especially with how next week will be. Fear, Pain? I’ll never forget the one when you left me here all alone. Didn’t I say Virgil’s here… How do I forgive myself? Just push a button.

But not one of these buttons has the word LIVE on the front. And even if one did B III… There’s always the one that sends me right back to sleep. We’re approaching 9:00 AM. Before I try lying away, you know what begins in November. NaNoWriMo? Um, No F… And I already screwed that up. I should wear pants with buttons more often. Only, it’s never a good thing anytime I leave the house, except for running with your Aunt Carolina. I hope you’re checking in on her and the doctors. There are so many buttons to push I could never be one. Only I’m not much of a writer either. Because existing Braxton, without your button nose, really sucks. B Pushing Virgil’s Buttons

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 123 ~Getting A B, Virgil~

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If I’d earned a few… a lot of A’s, I’d have a grade A existence. Schools don’t have scholarships for zombie tales or HaremLit. And while I love my boy and took Virgil in, I hate Math. So much for my plans to be a vet. A writer? “Getting A B, Virgil.”

Wednesday, November 1, 2023

Tale 123 ~Getting A B, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. It’s not like I’m fooling anyone into believing I’m a righteous man. How about a writer or reader?

Today is the first day of NaNoWriMo, which WAS usually hard on Braxton and me. Usually, it means another unpublished book. And with two months out from E-Day. So, ten months away from being forty? I swear I thought I was afraid before Inspector Echo. Halloween was yesterday. And what spooky things did I do with the night, dear Echo? Well, I read Satan’s Sorority Girls 3. And wanted to break with Grayson and Julia. Frightening? Inspector Echo, you know November is the month guys say NO to specific activities. But yeah, I watched Halloween Havoc for the following reason. Say it with me, Inspector. YABBOS! I should have listened to Braxton. The best legs, breasts, and thighs come from a bucket of chicken, Inspector.

Then maybe, just maybe, I would have more energy to write. And more time, Inspector. Hell! I could have a new subject to write about. I get F’s in everything else. That is if I let people peruse it, got it published, and didn’t use it as a punishment device. Writing poetry and prose meant so much more once upon a time. Once I got out of school, that is. Was it only 2020 2021 that I figured it was the way out for Braxton and me to live? Ha-Ha! Braxton found his way out, but what about me? Selfish much? It is inevitable, Inspector. Indifference killed my boy because I had to keep my anger at the Day Job far away from him, always.

Then there was my stupidity. I bought some Halloween “cool devices” from a particular company this week. Did I mention how my monster of choice has always been the Dead?

And now I’m reading a bill on zombie toys. Doesn’t Virgil need more stuff, Inspector? And I could be looking up ideas for stories, but would they be published somehow? Inspector, if I want a good horror story, I could look at The Day Job. And all the things I need to sign up for to continue to be one of The Walking Dead. For V’s sake, sigh. And last night, I got a message from M Anime assuring me, “Oh God, I’m gonna die alone.” Not surprising. But my boys? Getting A B, Virgil.

1004 Days Without B III, Day 445 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 117 ~Wrong Answers, B, V~

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I’m not right. When I know I’m wrong, I don’t exactly stop. Moral compass? All those don’t steal, don’t kill, and the rest. I know a few companies that would be pissed. My son is dead. And when X/Twitter is reporting on crimes. “Wrong Answers, B, V.”

Thursday, October 26, 2023

Tale 117 ~Wrong Answers, B, V~

998 Days Without B III, Day 439 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s only 7:30 here, and I woke up at 4:00. Yesterday was even worse, B.

Not to sound like “Since U Been Gone…” I’ve looked at you as the angel on my shoulder, Braxton. But I would call you a little douche. And what was the middle ground? Just B. Every day, I wake up wishing you could just be. Because at the end of the day, your good dog moments beat out your bad puppy antics. It doesn’t work that way with men religiously. And when did I become one of the righteous? “I’m a man of God, but I don’t need a savior.” What I mean, Triple B, is I tried to “Do the Right Thing.” Saving you? Braxton, it couldn’t be done, and trying to keep you alive would have been a “Way Wrong Answer!” Killing you?

I swear B that there are no right answers in this world. And maybe that was your secret B III. You never answered questions. Hell! How many pictures do I have of your eyes, B? One of the few things Virgil Vivi has in common with you is that he doesn’t answer me. Wasn’t that one of the rules I had for you? Answer me so I know where you are in the room. It was the only way I could protect you. And again, did I? I failed miserably. And it’s not like you answer any of these letters anyway. I’m starting to feel like Bella from New Moon. Can I not think about Kristen Stewart or any girl? Another reason I’m late today

Yeah, Wednesday was a shit show. My head got slammed by a shelf Wednesday. But seeing how I woke up today, can I rule out a concussion? Anything that brings me closer to you. Only I’m not coming to The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, not even purgatory. The 9th Circle. And why? Taking “my” own existence would be a sin. And I can’t even get that right despite all my studies. That’s what I was thinking about Wednesday… researching sin. There’s always death, primarily zombies. I said something this week about monster/demon girls… Succubi, Witches, Heather Loralie, the list goes on —torture, Hentai, and grieving fur babies. There’s punishment, sleep deprivation, no sex… Ha! Only Masturbation. There’s being broke, zero simoleons. Sigh. Wrong Answers, B, V.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 116 ~Virgil On B’s Time~

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What time is it? When I was 36 and Braxton was 15, we didn’t care. If I had my way, he would be 18, and I would have never seen 7. I’d say 0, but I love my Ma. And with nearly 1,000 days, I can still cry for my boy. He’s My Son. V? Virgil On B’s Time

Wednesday, October 25, 2023

Tale 116 ~Virgil On B’s Time~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. Is grieving a sin? It’s been 997 days, so three shy of 1000. As always, my Little Braxton.

I cried for him today, Tuesday, October 24, 2023. So, I’m only looking one day ahead. And yes, I will weep. But only because of the Day Job. Or I hope so. I wish to be sad, I swear, Echo. THEY say that “Anger is more useful than Despair.” And as Dr. Banner put it. “I’m always angry.” Always and forever, Inspector Echo. Who has that kind of time ever? Inspector, as I told Dear Future Wife today, I do. I have hated myself for the majority of 39 years of this existence. And the fact that I’ll make it to 40… Inspector Echo, geez. October is a month of scary things. Isn’t it? I still want zombies, but my boy B is in ashes.

So why is Virgil living on B III time? It’s not like it’s doing me any favors, even today. Ha! It’s three in the afternoon, so shouldn’t I be talking to Madam Justice? Procrastination, Echo. Virgil has been here for 438 days. And he’s still asking me when will be his time to come out and play. He’s living like Braxton did during his last days. And at least Braxton had the biological imperative to survive. My boy would eat, drink water, and use his pad. Even when he was dying, Inspector. He didn’t want his water right next to him. B was a man. And he walked to where his water dish once was. I need these tears, hmm. Today’s humiliations won’t be enough?

I’ve had alarm bells all day, both Tuesday and Wednesday. I told Dear Future Wife a nightmare awakened me this morning. There have been sirens, both police and women. There’s the silence of my overthinking, overloading. And, um, overflowing. And Inspector something as simple as the wind that could blow down the fence anytime. It can be all over. Inspector Echo, doesn’t Virgil deserve a chance, a choice, and his case on the clock? It’s Braxton’s first meds, outside time, and second dose every day. And everything I did was to one day have more time with him. The time I spend with Virgil… We both don’t know. “Time Has Come Today,” it will. Be it 3, 18, 39. Sigh, E-Day. Virgil On B’s Time

997 Days Without B III, Day 438 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 110 ~Virgil Sounds Off Braxton~

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I didn’t know V was howling. For a few weeks, he only coughed like hacking up a lung. Then his howl when I left, vomiting and barking at a possum. Hell! All I’m saying is don’t you effing die to myself. “Virgil Sounds Off Braxton”

Thursday, October 19, 2023

Tale 110 ~Virgil Sounds Off Braxton~

991 Days Without B III, Day 432 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Would I be better off if I lied to you? Sorry B, highway, government, time-travel…

This is why I’m talking to you today. “Good morning, and in case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night.” Since wrestling isn’t on tonight, I could watch The Truman Show. NXT was on Tuesday, and I didn’t watch any of it either B III. Roxanne Perez, Piper Niven… And yet, I wonder why I like M Anime so much. It’s the best of both worlds, but we’ll get to that. I should keep it in my pants, but Braxton Barks. Remember when your Aunt Carolina would come by, and you’d be awfully busy with your toy? And she had to let you run all over her massive pair of… Um, anyway, you were very vocal, liking her, not liking her.

But it would be nice if you kept her in your thoughts today. Triple B, please. Probably me, too. Wednesday… well, today for me. I’m thinking about what I have to do. Highways B… Thirty-nine and counting, unfortunately. And the only time I’ve taken a trip like this is when your Aunt was getting married. She’s not anymore, but I’m still scared to death. Hell! She is my friend, and you are my son. And that was enough to give me courage in 2019. And why do I need to talk about courage, your Aunt Carolina, and car rides? Braxton, we’re talking a few miles to prove to Uncle Sam that I am, whatever you say I am. Well, not you specifically. To you, I was Daddy. To them… sigh.

What about to Virgil? He’s sitting at the door in your room, but for once, he’s quiet. You should hear him when I leave the house. I’m sure you have. Have you been scaring him? I’m sorry, Triple B, for my attempts at Halloween humor. Will I even get to see it? Do I have no faith in my driving ability? Or that of other people? Remember sitting with me, Braxton? With my luck, I’ll even end up in Hell, a ghost or a zombie, with no chance of seeing you. If I make it back, I’m the monster or whatever Virgil thinks I am, All to defend a name I hate. And I don’t call Virgil my son. Yet, ever… Virgil Sounds Off Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 109 ~Curtains For B, Virgil~

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Is it curses or curtains? Either way, I’m awake and have to see the world. The window’s not high enough. And the privacy fence is breaking, so the doors will need curtains. And nothing will block out my greatest crime anyway. “Curtains For B, Virgil”

Wednesday, October 18, 2023

Tale 109 ~Curtains For B, Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned. It’s been a week since my last confession. Though this week hasn’t been as HARD… We’ll get there.

I continue to cry over B III’s death. Or not? Hmm. I had something in my eye. Or so I thought. It’s been the only reason I’ve shed a few tears. You know how I love to sleep. And if anything gets me to open these eyes all big and wide… staring at some massive… Inspector, I’m supposed to be talking about Braxton, right? I remember I wanted to take him on the road with me when his Aunt Carolina was getting married. Sore subject? Inspector, I’ll be forty come next E-Day. Yes, thirty-nine continues to suck. I should cry. Or, as the song goes, you “Make Me Wanna Die.” This is another reason I need a weapons lockbox instead of a nightstand drawer. Curtains?

If I wanted that, I could open a window. The house needs to be bigger. But I can dream my existence away. It’s nothing like waking up and it’s nearly midnight. In case you were wondering why I’m calling you so late. The cold, the dark, and the laziness. Thinking of B. My son was dying, but still, B got up and walked to his water bowl even when I moved it closer to him. I’m trying with the waterworks, aren’t I? And what about Virgil Vivi? Inspector, if I survive tomorrow, then I can worry about him. I’m not driving down the highway today. Again, there’s Braxton’s Aunt. And now I have to talk to the government. With my luck? Crimes? Curses/Curtains foiled again.

Or should I say soiled again? Hell! I wish I had made such a mess in the shower. That would make for easy cleaning. I also have plenty of paper towels. So what broke me? Inspector, honest to God, I’ve downloaded more Japanese anime. That I don’t have a prayer of ever pronouncing. There have been plenty of cosplayers and AI girls to gawk at. Inspector, I can never forget Cherry and her pigtails. Finally, I put more money up on “OF,” and I discovered this particular model I’m aching to pay off. Paywalls Inspector. What’s one more curtain? And with all my secrets… That would be motivation enough to join Braxton. But Virgil’s turning three on the 20th. Anniversaries? Birthdays? Curtains For B, Virgil

990 Days Without B III, Day 431 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 103 ~Virgil, B Leaves Better~

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B believed in me, and how did that turn out for him. I believed in what… God or some higher power. Again, how did that turn out for B. V’s been here 425 days, and I believe he’s on the fence. If it doesn’t collapse this Fall. Virgil, B Leaves Better.

Thursday, October 12, 2023

Tale 103 ~Virgil, B Leaves Better~

984 Days Without B III, Day 425 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As the song goes, “I’d love to get a letter. Like to know what’s what.”

It’s not like I’m any better with it B III. I ain’t Eric Thomas. But I got up around three-ish. Tell me THEY have sleep in Heaven… At the Rainbow Bridge or wherever you exist. Existence? No! You live, Braxton. Only it’s not here anymore. But as much as you struggled, you didn’t want to leave me. If only I had your strength. Well, I haven’t cried today, Braxton. But the day is still very much young. Daddy’s thirty-nine now. Which ain’t much compared to your age, I know. But every day, I take a step closer to Doom. Gaming? Braxton, there is no time for that. There’s no time for anything but killing it. Have you seen me these days at the Day Job?

Again, I’m looking for the tears to fall. I’m surprised there haven’t been more Braxton. Sweating bullets daily. And let’s not get into other bodily fluids… Eww! That’s one thing I can say about Virgil and his having no “interest” in toys. Not like you. Yeah, if you’re not sleeping, eating, or watching me. One more reason for me to behave. I know it, B. Don’t Look Down. I’m right, Braxton. And the leaves aren’t that pretty falling. Ha. I’m leafing through pages. It’s more like scrolling, but you understand. Anyway… there’s all these books. That aren’t about grieving fur babies. Ah! Viewers like you —my lost one, B III. And still, I think about leaving this place every day. Quit with the leaving humor?

It’s Fall, we get it. But calling it funny might be stretching. Which again reminds me of what I must do today and tomorrow. Stretch out? Convince people I’m “working.” Take a long car ride. And then there’s the cash. Is everything free wherever you are B III? This world has fallen so far. B III, some government types believe that there’s capitalism in paradise. That’ll suck. Hell! I owe you so much, Braxton. And Virgil, too. Only I haven’t fallen for him yet. Then why am I looking down to ensure he stays alive and well? Braxton, I’ve fallen for worse… sleep, Simoleons, and the opposite sex. I’d leave it all. Braxton, I believe plenty about zombies and necromancy. Death… Virgil, B Leaves Better

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 102 ~That’ll B Beeping, Virgil~

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Where would I be without my glasses? Hell! Even if I couldn’t see what time it was. I would still have to make my way over to the alarm clock somehow, someway. And I need four because being thirty-nine after a month sucks. “That’ll B Beeping, Virgil”

Wednesday, October 11, 2023

Tale 102 ~That’ll B Beeping, Virgil~

Forgive Me, Echo,
I have sinned and must confess. Or at least ask the question. Where have these intros been all of my existence? Hmm…

Listen to me. Or I’d rather you didn’t. Because, in the words of Cody Rhodes, what do you want to talk about? And as with every day, it involves me crying about my son Braxton. Don’t you see what time it is? So, I can be forgiven for not shedding tears thus far. And it’s not like I’m yelling at Virgil, either. I only do if he’s in danger. And it’s not like that possum and cat made a sound. Another reason I could only hear my breathing. There was my heart beating out of my chest. And a myriad of excuses if Virgil had been attacked. I remember when Braxton had stepped on a pine cone, a nail, or whatever. I have no clue.

And it was hard having to explain to the vet what was wrong with B. Five Hundred Dollars? This would come much later when the vet would have to explain why Braxton was dying. Again, there were no words from me. Except, it’s my fault. And am I trying to give myself a reason to cry right now? I had them bawling at the Day Job yesterday. Inspector, that was from their laughter. If I had to list the worst sounds in all of this existence. Inspector, so It Follows:

  1. Braxton’s Last Breath
  2. People I Believe Are Laughing at Me
  3. All of “my” Alarm Clocks
  4. My Breath, Realizing I Still Exist
  5. What I Say Afterwards
  6. People Telling Me No

It brings back wanting billions…

Only the money that I have right now, Inspector? I hear those dollars and cents going everywhere but back into my pocket. Hell! I thought I had ten bucks yesterday, but I used debit on a three-dollar sandwich. And don’t get me started on Full Moon BBQ. As the song goes, “I think I used to have a voice.” What I needed was a burger, Inspector. And I was so ready to complain on the day it happened. But lying, Inspector? One of the whoppers has me moaning all over the place these last few days. When I’m not listening to girls and imagining all those dirty, filthy words, there’s “Success.” Jealous hearing it all, Inspector, it’s never for me. Ever!? That’ll B Beeping, Virgil.

983 Days Without B III, Day 424 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 096 ~CAR Carrying Braxton, Virgil~

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“Here in my car, I feel safest of all.” No. I never cared for driving, walking, or anything requiring me to leave the bed. I’m ungrateful? Hell! Anywhere I went was in service to Braxton. Movie nights, his Aunt’s wedding? CAR Carrying Braxton, Virgil

Thursday, October 5, 2023

Tale 096 ~CAR Carrying Braxton, Virgil~

977 Days Without B III, Day 418 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s Friday, September 29, 2023. So you know my day sucked. Much like car rides

Hell, “Anytime” I have to answer the phone or get a text from the Olds or Day Job. It’s never a good thing, Braxton. Virgil might have been doing good vomiting on it. Who am I kidding, right? I value the phone more than the car. But the thought that something is wrong with the car… Well, to keep from throwing up all day. It’s been bedrest, searching for books, and you know that B-word that broads have. Backyard Dungeon? And no, I’m not talking about that A-word broads have. I mean the second book. Permission? I asked you about reading something that doesn’t involve dead fur babies. Not that you were a fan of those books, anyway. But after finishing another Kindle Challenge… sigh.

Do you remember when I was driving to the library every other day? No. It wasn’t to pick up books, though I did eventually. And with what the car might cost me. I need books. Only that’s a problem for Saturday… of last week. This one, I hope, is better Braxton. Positivity? I told Lady Sophia that’s what all the motivational speeches always say. Not to mention, nobody likes reading negative things. I’d have a working car B. Well, if I could write something of value. Braxton, that’s like the car… negative outlook. Whenever you got in, it was never for anything good, even the park. For you, it was dogs, for me, people. Why can’t we stay… at the house? But, last vet visit…

That’s a bad choice of words. I’m sorry, B. You’d have given anything to hop back in the car and come back with me. But I left your cold body there. No collar, comfy spot, companion. When I carried you to the car, it was with the faith that I’d see a miracle, God, in action. But instead, much like when I drive to the Day Job. It was going straight to Hell. Not that I believe you’re there. Knowing me, it’s warm, and you’re saving me a spot by the fire. Having a car also allowed me to get fries and new toys, and your Aunt would visit us. I meant to bring you a mom. Now, another waiting room. CAR Carrying Braxton, Virgil

Always and Forever,
Your Dad