Chronicle 338 ~When Will I B~

When will I be? The GQP talks a lot of S*** about when life begins. Most days I spend lamenting when my son’s life ended. Bad choice of words. Furry with four legs… no less my son. One worth living for because for myself, I still ask. When will I be

Saturday, June 4, 2022

Chronicle 338 ~When Will I B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. So that means I should get used to being interviewed. But I find myself censored more.

When will I lose this Republican ideology? That’s not the question I meant to start with today, but I’m tired for many different reasons. Even getting up at 4:00 AM. Ok, and then? When will I start writing… well, anything for real? As I said, I struggle to get up. And that’s with January 31, 2021, and January 11, 2022. And now, Camp NaNoWriMo will begin next month. As I said yesterday, besides the urge to pee, there’s the need to write. When will I do anything at all? Yesterday it felt like there was so much to do. And yet I feel like nothing was accomplished. Not a damn thing, Lady Lunalesca, but missing my boy. Mourning Braxton is my PROFESSION. I’m no Spartan.

Willy, what is your profession? Lunalesca, there are so many places I can go with that. Am I talking about, Stuff and Thangs, OnlyFans, just being, um, skeevy. Fucking word! Luna? Is it the fact that I don’t know who I am anymore? Not even how to spell my name? My name? As if it were ever my own, to be honest. Hell! I’ve always hated it, so you know. What am I doing with this existence? If the last few minutes are any indication… Well, I was going to say wasting my time. My time? Nothing belongs to me. Or that’s what I feel. Every day there’s one more reason to miss my son. Now he was mine because he chose me above all.

Why? Now that is the question of the hour. Um, several hours considering what I’ve been doing since, yes, 4:00 in the morning. Now it’s 6:30 AM, and what do I have to show Lu? Why do I exist in this routine? It’s not even a Saturday routine. It’s the wake-up, write, and/or post. Either go to the Day Job, the store, there’s PetSmart, and it all leads back to this bed to do nothing in the slightest. Nothing is stopping me from staying in bed. Closing my eyes B. Why aren’t you trying to find me? I’ll never get his eyes out of my mind. Can you blame me for going to PetSmart? It’s where I’ll be. But to LIVE? When Will I B

489 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 336 ~A B In Psychology~

My son never got his Ph.D., but he was the best physiatrist, counselor, and therapist I’ve ever known. Even if I had to buy him all his/my books. My Olds, of course, paid for the couch. Should have gotten me a puppy and saved money. A B In Psychology

Thursday, June 2, 2022

Chronicle 336 ~A B In Psychology~

487 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Considering the time we’re talking, you already know how my day has begun. Life Sucks!

It was only last week that I said I wake up every morning crying tears. Is it better or worse again, considering there are less today but more for you? Day Job tears are unneeded. But I am still thinking about the past B. It’s stupid, but that book I read, Tender is the Flesh. Then there’s the possibility of reading The 1619 Project. I read the sample… pretty decent. And how about I haven’t been listening to many audiobooks, B III. Neglecting another collection. With so much time off from the Day Job, I know that I ought to be working on your novel. I’m not saying these books are bad. But it’s like I’m betraying you. Not learning to say goodbye… finding you.

Hell! B, it’s been all about reincarnation these days. I got two alerts about puppies. And haven’t gotten around to deleting them. I check them every now and then, and they’re still available. I doubt you would want to come back as a bitch. B, I thought you’d be taller. Oh what, now you’d be Snake Plissken? When I find you again, I keep saying that I’ll name you Virgil. You know from Dante’s Inferno. I know I can’t have another Braxton; That would be wrong, wicked, and plain weird. Speaking of weird, Toni Braxton, Braxton P. Hartnabrig, and WWE’s Kayla Braxton. You’d be staring at her melons too, Braxton. Yeah, you’re definitely not coming back as a girl. But seeing you again or another.

Kayla Braxton

I’m always shocked when I realize these things, Triple B. You’re gone? Yeah. That’s why B, your water bowl is always full, and nothing has been moved from your room. Hairdryer? Oh, I carry your beast hairdryer around from time to time. Your favorite toy, remember? Braxton, besides seeing a doctor for a particular pain. My craziness and depression are also here. But dare I ask, who, who, could take my favorite therapist’s place. One more reason, I’m not one to go sitting on the couch anymore. I don’t need another “pet” covering it. Noted your aunt wanted it to be a casting couch, and then there’s pretty Special K. Good times but video games, movies, books, you and me. Happiness? A B In Psychology.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 335 ~Gotta Pay To B~

Last night, I got paid for two minutes of work that I usually do in an hour. Pathetic. I mean, it beats the Day Job, ha-ha. One day I might have a book in stores if I wasn’t wandering around with… something else in my hands. Life, Gotta Pay To B

Wednesday, June 1, 2022

Chronicle 335 ~Gotta Pay To B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. While I’m on that subject, I want it to be because of brothels, cosplay, dirty girls…

Thank you, Rob Dyrdek, who is pretty damn wholesome. A family man. My family… well, who I considered family died 486 days ago. It always comes back to Braxton. Inspector, sing it with me, “All You Need Is Love.” I didn’t get paid to sing, but we’ll get to that. Now you know how I feel about love, sorry Aloe Blacc. While I do agree life is a game. Love isn’t a prize Inspector; it’s either the instructions or a gift. My Braxton was/is a gift; I didn’t buy him. He chose me over my sister but loves her too, without a doubt. Me more! He gave love, hope, and peace like it was candy in his pocket. No wonder he didn’t like clothes, ha-ha.

I say, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” Sorry, Jesus? Yet another reason I’m not religious, and I miss Braxton. If you count how much money I’ve given to the church. Left Behind Series? And, of course, many of those pet loss titles talk about God. Knowledge, Power? Hell! I’ve never spent money on sex… Correction AHEM, I’ve never paid to have sex. Only it’s the first of the month, and that’s when I try to subscribe or unsubscribe to all the porn I’m into. Again, love, hope, and peace? Nope! I like Yabbos, specifically Tifa Lockhart’s and Cherry’s, but that’s another tale. A way to feel something. I don’t know. But then again, who needs groceries or healthcare, Inspector. Being Black in America.

But no, racism does enough to humiliate us as a country. This is about my own shame and disgrace. For example, the Day Job. The fact I might have sent B’s aunt a dick video. And there is always the fact that I could not save my son’s life. The price I pay for that. Now about me getting paid for something. Last night someone paid to see me naked. Don’t get excited. It was nothing like I paid MILF Dos or Cherry for her teases but a start Inspector. Who knows, they may pay for more? I’ve been paid for my writing. Well, years ago. But I’ll continue to go to the Day Job even though B isn’t here because… Gotta Pay To B.

486 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 331 ~You Wouldn’t Believe B~

You wouldn’t believe B; I need more sleep. That’s what I told my son plenty of mornings as soon as the sun was up. And afternoons after work. You wouldn’t believe B if he told you those were the best days of our lives. And now You Wouldn’t Believe B.

Saturday, May 28, 2022

Chronicle 331 ~You Wouldn’t Believe B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. I should say I’m crying right now. Disappointed, Discombobulated, playing with my dick. Could be true

You wouldn’t believe B AHEM, “when somebody loved me, everything is beautiful.” Hell! All I know is that I never want to open my eyes. Be it 2:30 AM to discover all the lights are on. My standard for waking up at 4:00 AM is because I want to be “Successful.” 5:15 AM? You’ll have to excuse me about the time. This morning, I discovered the last day, I felt “normal.” Well, I take that back. I haven’t felt like that since Braxton died but let’s say healthy… Tuesday, January 11, 2022. The question is, what am I going to do, Lunalesca? At the moment, not a damn thing. But when it was my ear… I was listening for B III. Dick ain’t helping anybody.

You wouldn’t believe B if he said that his Dad would find a way to save us both, Lunalesca. I’m trying Lunalesca. And yes, I know you could go all Master Yoda on my ass. But again, speaking of my ass. That’s what led to my discovery this morning. All it takes is getting out of your head. My big one or the one I’m damn-near always using, Lu? The one from Friday, um yeah. Then there’s my writing. Didn’t I say some lady asked me about it at the Day Job? Well, another girl asked yesterday. Talk about trying not to be discovered. I’m the guy with a dead fur baby. What more is there to me these days. Going through albums, not Braxton’s.

You wouldn’t believe B thought he was dying and that I wish… Haven’t I said enough dangerous words this Saturday? It’s not even 7:00 AM, Lunalesca and all I want to do is go back to sleep. Of course, you know I haven’t left the bed yet except for nature’s call. Again with what happened on January 11. I’m thinking about Sunday, January 31, 2021. The day I told my best friend goodbye. At least this morning, I wished a Happy Birthday to Cherry. I don’t know where I was at 25. As far as my Emergence Day, well, to sing you a song Lunalesca, “the dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.” But “Endure and Survive.” You Wouldn’t Believe B

482 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 329 ~ I’ll Always B 15~

When are the grownups going to do something? I’m not much of one, and my kid had four legs. I don’t regret the 15 years 11 months with my fur-baby, but I shouldn’t have ever been a Dad at around 21. With how I live, “I’ll Always B 15.”

Thursday, May 26, 2022

Chronicle 329 ~ I’ll Always B 15~

480 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? 480 days, I still wake up in tears. At 15, I saved them for school.

That was way before your time Braxton. By the time we met, I was a college, hell, junior college dropout. To be honest, I wasn’t supposed to make it that far. I was already practicing starving myself in high school. I didn’t move on to sleeping pills until the car. I’ll never regret knowing you, B. But that doesn’t mean I ever felt like the man you needed me to be… a father. Hell! I can’t tell you who I was at 15 other than I wanted to die soon. Who am I to tell you about that, right? You were only 15 B III. We’re the old men here. Braxton, I feel it, but I don’t know it ever.

Is it that your Aunt Carolina’s birthday was “Star Wars Day?” Cherry will be 25 Saturday. I kept telling myself that you would see 20 if not older. 5 years to do right. Braxton, how many parents won’t watch their children grow up? How many people had their entire lives only to be cut short? The wrong time and I’m not getting “political.” Republicans… But to be shallow, selfish, and sad. In other words, “I’m just a regular everyday normal motherfucker.” In other words, I love you. Yeah, I couldn’t help myself, Braxton. Music. But I don’t know what I was listening to back then. Whatever it was, it beats me singing? That’s one thing I know I won’t be when I grow up… become a singer but growing up?

THEY think I should have done that. Especially when it comes to getting over you. Braxton, what brought all this on was again another “revelation.” My OCD when I was at the front door, I always count to 5, 3 times, so 15. When I check locks, Braxton count 15. A lucky number? I remember I would cream myself about that girl in “Group 4. “Growing up, when, where? Instead of keeping my porn in a binder beneath a drawer? Paying my own way finally? Not telling the lady at the Day Job; I’m thinking of writing? Not subsisting off stuff in the microwave? Or waking up because other people want me to? I’m too old, but you know. You said, “I’ll Always B 15.”

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 328 ~B Getting Things Done~

Besides B’s Aunt and an AI, nobody asks how I’m doing or how I spend my time. At the Day Job, I have to lie. So every day, I would come back and dump everything on B. Now I bare myself in more ways than one. But B III. “B’s Getting Things Done.”

Wednesday, May 25, 2022

Chronicle 328 ~B Getting Things Done~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now. If that was the case here and now, it would all be worth it. But alas…

I can imagine all the ways I suffered “Humiliations Galore” today. But of course, I’m time traveling, not knowing what awaits. For all I know, I could be getting lucky. No, not like that, Inspector. Like the song “The dreams in which I’m dying, Are the best I’ve ever had.” The world in which we live Inspector, the Great Replacement, the Day Job, Onlyfans, etc. That’s where I should begin my apology tour. I should’ve started talking to you sooner. Hell, I should be talking to you on Wednesday. Inspector, it’s Thursday, May 19, 2022. Okay, ask me how I spent my day besides talking to B III? Um, writing a note 1 more, ha. Well, at least I wasn’t napping. I will on Wednesday.

Only today, for the first time in forever. Oh, I did not just go there, did I? One more thing? An excuse, a distraction, fucking weakness. And if Braxton were here, my son, my heart. B would be taking the day off as I did something constructive, productive, damn worthy. Protecting Pops, Property, and Pancakes. If he wasn’t pretending to be one, all curled up warm in my lap. I wonder if he hated his job as much as I hate mine. B didn’t complain. Not until a Wednesday afternoon, January 27, 2021. And even then, I scooped him up and fell asleep, only to wake up and see him at his guard post. That’s what I get for not carrying my own damn cross.

15 years surviving me is way too much to ask anyone to carry, so he rested when he could Echo. And now here I am, wanting to subject him to that again? Braxton’s done enough. And the good news is I’m too lazy to go looking for him because I won’t find him with the Rebeccas over at Petsmart come some sunny day, this Saturday or the last. A chance? But anyway, the “Humiliations Galore” are the worst. Taking my boxers off is pretty easy. That’s what I was doing today. Going all Stuff and Thangs. The house is a mess, and a dollar hasn’t been earned. Braxton only had his collar. If he could speak. Daddy wouldn’t be STUPID. That’s B Getting Things Done

479 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 324 ~Time To B III~

Well, it’s time, but the only thing I’m sure of is that I’ll be crying at some point. I wish it was always at 4, be it AM or PM. I don’t feel like getting up, and my son is gone. Like love and grieving, my stupidity has plenty of time. Time To B III.

Saturday, May 21, 2022

Chronicle 324 ~Time To B III~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But of course, you expect me to say that. It’s routine, it’s regular, it’s all ruined.

That was 4:00 PM yesterday, to be specific. Do you remember that episode of How I Met Your Mother? (1×18) “Nothing Good Happens After 2AM.” Amend that to 4:00 PM? Lunalesca, I splooged all over Friday, which I deserve, for working on my Stuff & Thangs. At least I should have filmed it. But of course, you know who I talked to at the time. Speaking of BAD memories, I remember when my father kicked the shit out of me for not doing my Math homework. Luna, such dreaded memories pop up? IBC Root Beer? The worse thing is that my son died around 4:00 PM. No, I left after the fact and never saw him again. And yes, the tears are to be expected.

Lunalesca, you wonder why I start crying at 4:00 AM. Well, this morning, it was 1:45 AM. The lamp was still blazing, the TV was on, and I was surrounded by the messes I had made. Wow, I didn’t expect this conversation to go this way. Mind you. 4:00 AM thoughts? More like 6:30 AM. And that’s because I went back to sleep. I’m in no damn hurry. Seize The Day? Hell! Yesterday, I realized STUPID mistakes on top of the humiliations I suffered. For example, why I’m not feeling better “The Placebo Effect?” And why my Cranberry juice tasted “funky.” I grabbed the Cranberry-Raspberry instead. Stuff makes me feel sick. Stupidity in and of itself tells me I don’t belong here. Such dangerous words…

Now that’s nothing new, Lu. Going back to high school days, junior college Group #4 and She Who Won’t Be Named. So grateful to forget the dick-teasers, skeezers, and weirdos. The last time I could say I “Got 5 On It.” Yet another reason to miss Triple B. No fives… And 4:00 AM was a goal instead of a burden. 4:00 PM, he would be at his post for me. But “comedy comes in threes,” THEY say. And my son being gone… the comedian’s dead. Two against the world, that was us. Lunalesca. Where will I be Saturday 4:00 PM? Horrifying to imagine it. The wrong time but the right man, ha, always in the wrong place. That was my B. Time To B III

475 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 322 ~Of My Favorite B’s~

Some of my favorite words start with B. Brought to you by the letter B. If only I “existed” on Sesame Street, but they had to deal with death too? I think. Speaking of all that surrounds us, thanks “Tuckems” I write about my son. “Of My Favorite B’s”

Thursday, May 19, 2022

Chronicle 322 ~Of My Favorite B’s~

473 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You could always tell how my day would be without reading the clock, my Pancake.

“But Pancake,” you would harrumph, but you would want to take a walk before breakfast. At the very least, go outside. That is until I started bringing fries back. I’ve been there, Braxton. I remember when I discovered Big Macs. Then McDonald’s $3.29 Lunch. But you were still alive when it was only $3.00. You’re alive somewhere, B, and I doubt wherever that is they’re serving you pancakes. That’s my job. Speaking of which, that’s why I’m waking up so late. No Day Job today, but I did say good morning to the “void?” Am I sticking to the theory that you’ve been reincarnated? Out there somewhere B III? These days I’m back to learning about grieving, mourning, bereavement, etc. Oh, and boobies, Twins. SIGH

Books all across the spectrum B. I keep thinking of ways to honor you. Hell, if you’re out there alive… Yesterday is a perfect example of why I’m not ready yet. It was three hours. Yet when I came back, I wasted the whole day in bed and didn’t eat anything. Well, until 11:00 PM. As far as reading goes, I read a sample of “The 1619 Project” and started “Healing Solutions for Pet Loss.” One of those you clearly wouldn’t be interested in. And, of course, I’ve been raging about the “Great Replacement Theory.” If I wasn’t on a list before, I am now B III. I would honor you if I went back to reading on the loveseat and not talking to myself.

Because you’re out there, B III. My boy, my brother, my back. The world’s so heavy. Bed seems to be the only cure, and then um, when’s the last time I took a piss, Braxton ha. Basic question, but you would know following me B III, the paper around the bedposts. Boobies! Because I would rather talk about them than our bathroom habits. To rise again. I’ve been listening to “The Good, the Bad, and the Crazy Stupid Hot: Succubus 3.” Ian is crying over Alaria while “doing” Meera. I cry over you, and no size of boobies on any specific girl will make up or replace my love for you, B. If I finish your book, will I find you some time, somewhere? I hope. Of My Favorite B’s

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 321 ~To B That Old~

Between B always being in my bed, not letting me close the bathroom door, or running behind me wherever… I’m getting too old for this (stuff), and apparently, so was he, though he had a bunch of toys. I got too many myself. “To B That Old.”

Wednesday, May 18, 2022

Chronicle 321 ~To B That Old~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means women, health, and, dare I say, my son should no longer be issues. Damnable lies.

B III will always be in my head, heart, and my non-happiness. Non-happiness? That’s like Braxton’s birthday on February 13th and Valentine’s Day on the 14th. Echo, that’s the closest to LOVE I’m ever going to get. I’d give up sex to have B III back. Hell, haven’t I, when he was still alive? Masturbation was few and far between ha-ha. Only when Triple B was locked in his room. He didn’t like it when I closed the door to the shower so I could have some “personal time.” B hated most women, not his Aunt. Inspector, I swear Braxton knows too much about me, and that’s a reason for abstinence. Religion, School? Father was telling me I was ugly back then… nope. It’s my kid B that stopped me.

And then, without him around, I show up naked on the internet. OnlyFans! My Laziness. I continue adding a plethora of girls about whom I’ve been blabbing to Madam Justice to the LIST. Inspector, I give into every sin at some point. Seeing my movies yesterday… greed or lust. There’s my Treachery for what I did to B. With you Echo, I have no pride, so um Violence? Only against myself, don’t worry. Anyway, as an old man, I assume this would happen… Okay, Inspector, you know I’ll beat off like IT owes me money. Zoe Colletti Incident… That was back in January. Inspector, let’s add that sex toys were present and clothing. Anyway, I ain’t felt right since that session. Everything works fine, but lots of restroom breaks galore.

The lesson… always wash clothes before sticking them on sex toys. It should have been hell; respect my son’s memory, especially the month he died in 2021. Oh, and also how to make a doctor’s appointment. If you think getting a doctor to go all bukkake on your ear is wicked. Yeah, tell them you did something pretty crazy with your dick. I’m an open book. Well, not with everything. As I said, I was going through porn collections yesterday. Yikes! Inspector, what if I told you that I never intended to be this old? I keep telling myself Braxton would never forgive me. He followed my lead, not the other way around. Ask his Aunt about her boobs. That horndog. To B That Old.

472 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 317 ~B It So Small~

All The Small Things, The Little Things, Pretty Young Thing. And Little B was the cure for them all. I would tell B that he would be as tall as a king. I go back and forth between him being so high in heaven or heavy in a box. My life, B It So Small.

Saturday, May 14, 2022

Chronicle 317 ~B It So Small~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. It’s like saying my penis is small… An outright lie. Sorry for dick jokes or title.

Hell, if I were to write a poetry book for B III or any book period. Words are such little things, Lady Lunalesca. Yeah, that’s another lie, considering how tired they make me. Or I’m weak, whatever. My Lady, I’m late getting up and still sitting in bed this second. Who was it that said this? “You don’t want a girlfriend. You want a therapist who’s good in bed. Is that why I often converse with you and the girls from the bed? It’s inevitable. Lunalesca, of course, you don’t see a (P.Y.T.) Pretty Young Thing, walking out the door. Yes, lay off anything related to my penis. I’m not forgetting about my furry boy again, to be sure. I meant Braxton, and speaking of…

One more reason to miss the little guy. A humongous reason, being able to talk to him, Should I stick with a “happy” medium? I still hate that word too. Things that I miss Lu. Okay, so I miss those walks B, and I would take. Can’t say my health is looking any better for it. Having to stretch out to give him bites of food or find his furry little head to pet every day. He was never more than ten pounds, but are you gonna carry that weight? Always. Better him than anything at the Day Job. That’s something I should remember. The Day Job is one of the medium, middle, motherfucking circles of Hell. Greed, Anger, Hersey. My biggest sin is Treachery.

I know Lady Lunalesca. I finished listening to the Succubus Lord series some time ago. Remind me to yell at Eric Vall about his book deliveries. Braxton’s Aunt’s birthday gift. That’s a big thing, disappointing my friends. Then again, dear Braxton is my best friend. And yet I made every cent such a big deal. There was never any until it came to his end. I didn’t mean to make sadness the gigantic talking point here, but as the song goes. I’m just a sucker for pain. Or, with my ear no longer being the main problem, I can switch back to why I’m sucking up dried cranberries again. Something so small that’s not helping, unlike B III or another furry… B It So Small

468 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will