Chronicle 139 ~Number Of B’s Gotten~

When I was a kid in summer school, I prayed to “God” that I ended up with a D average to keep my father from beating me. He nearly ruined root beer. I hit a dog once, which almost ruined Icee’s. Stuff a D student, shouldn’t do. “Number Of B’s Gotten”

Wednesday, November 17, 2021

Chronicle 139 ~Number Of B’s Gotten~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I shouldn’t be catching many Z’s, but the ones I get must be peaceful.

Usually, after I pull my shorts back on. Such is the start of my shame today at what? It’s 7:10 PM, so why am I calling you so late. Day 1 of No Fap again, thanks to 2. Scarlet and… Anyway, along with the conversation we’re having, I have yet again written 5,000 words. I continue to lie to NaNoWriMo. I’m at 28,000 when I should have 28,900. Wasted day. Inspector, I thought I would stop with that. What, did life not matter 290 Days ago? If it had, Braxton would be here. He’d be bored to tears, but “I’m writing for us,” I’d grumble. Should have thought better of that when I was still in school. I would be better off. A B student?

If you count what I know about B III, that is. As for how many classes I failed. How I could make it out of high school at all. My Olds money I threw away at junior college. Such sin. Why not add up everything I have going on with me mentally. Right now, I’m pretty clear-headed, and I told you why. The biggest problem is, at the moment, ADD or OCD. It goes. It was only at the Day Job a day, or so ago, I caught myself counting, I don’t know what. Perhaps how many dogs I’ve seen die. That I can take some guilt for… 2 or 3, B III being last. The worst are dogs I hated. Being A B student?

I was too full of, as Star Wars would put it. Fear, Anger, Hate, Suffering. Again at this very moment, it’s pretty much all disgust and self-loathing. Mixed with exhaustion. Looking at my schedule for the rest of the week. Sometimes I think NaNoWriMo should revoke my membership. Not like they’re checking up. Arrived at the point of no return. Yeah, like I was at PetSmart last Saturday. I talked about checking my wallet, week 3, and no Chase. I didn’t even talk to the ladies there. They say comedy comes in 3’s, huh, Echo. I’m not ready to be a dad again or any other type of “Real One.” Because I keep saying I’m no B Student. Echo, count the Number Of B’s Gotten.

290 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 135 ~To B A Believer~

“Comedy comes in 3’s.” I’ve read that it’s a writer’s rule, but when’s the last time I’ve believed anything other writers have said… like being good. The last one I believed in died 286 Days ago. I believe bad things always come. To B A Believer

Saturday, November 13, 2021

Chronicle 135 ~To B A Believer~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what do I believe in? I should start listening to my motivations again with NaNoWriMo.

Speaking of which, as I told Lady Sophia last night. I believe I was making such huge strides in “Behave In The Cherry Patch” until yesterday and, of course, today. If I’m lucky, ha-ha. By Sunday, I can stop lying to NaNoWriMo for at least a little while this week… Lady Lu, I should tell this weak man that I am. How many weeks has it been now that I’ve betrayed B III? Died on January 31, was cremated on February 4, and I picked up his ashes on February 10. Three days Lady Luna. I heard somewhere comedy comes in threes. I’m not sure I believe that, but wouldn’t it be something if Chase was at Petsmart today? This would be Week 3. To be Lucky or a Loser

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=67HwqNu1g9o

Of course, I mean that about me, Lady Lu, and not little Virgil. Hell, I can’t believe I would adopt him now. As I couldn’t believe what my “father” said to me the day that Braxton died. Of all the pain I’ve felt in my life, I can’t believe anything could hurt this much, Lu. You’re looking at a guy who has starved himself on purpose. With this week, I’ve been starving by accident, Lu. With all I survived with last night, I did take care of one problem. The next on my plate, or rather not in my glass, is dehydration. Water, Mother’s milk… Yeah, I’m about out of both unless I want to start drinking out the sink. Drool some over Cherry’s Yabbos?

I believe I always have time to, as they say, hang out with my wang out, rock out with my cock out, get silly with my willy. I should be careful, Lady Lu. It’s that kind of language which cost me a friend on Facebook a few days ago. After losing B, who cares, Lunalesca? The hackers? I did pass the rest of the night in relative peace. Not a peep has been heard this morning but wasn’t that the calm before the storm. I go out to live, and, next thing I know, I’m fighting for my life both IRL and online. And with this coming week. Life sucks; I believe that more than ever before. I believe in Braxton. To B A Believer.

286 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 132 ~To B So Heavy-Handed~

Well, that was a mess. The other day I noticed Braxton’s old pills bottles are fading with his name, and inside is plenty of dust. I’m getting down to crumbs with his treats. And my head is being crushed by Heaven falling down. To Be So Heavy-Handed.

Wednesday, November 10, 2021

Chronicle 132 ~To B So Heavy-Handed~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could produce the worst porn imaginable. Brock Lesnar and Rasputia. Didn’t get off…

Well, I did last night. It’s one of the reasons I’m so dirty, disgusted, and a bit dedicated for the next half hour, please. All thanks to a pair of English Yabbos (that I’ve never seen). Heavy the head that wears the crown? More like Heaven came crashing down hard. Anyway, my dream. I was wining and dining Brock, trying to get him to take Rasputia off my hands. I bought him a gun, and I took him to Buffalo Wild Wings. Hmm, I should take away the “wine and dine” part. I couldn’t even pay for the meal Inspector. Confession time, are you ready? Here at thirty-seven, I’ve never bought a woman dinner at a restaurant. I mean ever. My apologies to Braxton’s aunt.

Let me get even STUPIDER, Inspector Echo. While I can’t stand Brock Lesnar, he seems to be a staple in the wrestling community. As much as B III is a part of my life. Hell B was/is my life. And without him, what is life. As they say, ahem Life’s A Bitch, Echo. Could it have been Rowdy Roddy Piper? No, he’s dead, and I’m not scared of him. But Brock? If anything, I need my own Beast back because living with Rasputia. She’s life, in all its glory. Carolina Bound, M Anime, Cherry, will hate me for this, but ok, Echo the truth. Besides having big Yabbos, they have huge issues. I got them too (issues); that’s no secret. I can’t handle them all.

Only B III, Little B, so small, so tiny. No wonder I didn’t listen to him and put him down. Literally, and what a horrible thing to think, but what am I carrying around, Inspector? There isn’t that much cash. But what I do have, I throw at Tits and yet Echo not seeing any. What I do see is Will’s Willie. Only I haven’t been putting him up on Stuff and Thangs a lot. As far as what I’ve been putting into my belly these days? Crumbs, crushing nutrients. I wouldn’t subject another life to the shit I’m going through. Chase won’t be there… Anything I touch turns to dust or makes a big mess. So much for being light-hearted. To B So Heavy-Handed

283 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 128 ~B Aching My Heart~

For the third time in 279 Days, I was offered a dog. My sister showed me a dog only days after B III died. A woman on Facebook told me about a Chihuahua. And today, for a second week at PetSmart, these ladies asked me about Chase. “B Aching My Heart”

Saturday, November 6, 2021

Chronicle 128 ~B Aching My Heart~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can still be petty as all Hell. I can still hate the world, right.

On the 30th, Lady Lu I was embarrassed, enamored, and enraged from going to PetSmart. Embarrassed as I offered my number and email. The lady asks, “for what?” I’m stupid. Enamored with a dog named Chase that I would never see again. I’ll get to him in a sec Lu. Enraged at the lady there, myself. COVID 19 is nothing with people’s stupidity Lady Lu. There are two places on Earth this second where everyone knows my name. Well knows me, at least. Talk to my “father’s” old work buddies sometime. Tony has a son? Anyway, so I walk into PetSmart today, and these women are all around me. “We have Chase. He’s not here, but we can bring him, just say the word.” YES

NO Lunalesca, the answer has to be no, and it breaks my heart. That’s why I go to PetSmart every Saturday, I think. To tell me that it’s still there to be broken, not fixed. I don’t deserve it, Lady Lu, I mean to know, what peace? Hell, I’m breaking the bank, my balls, my book but this incessant heart of mine beating remains. But B III doesn’t hear it. I’ve talked about getting messages. The power flipped out for a second, and his picture frame flashed. B’s stuff on the floor, how his treats lie undisturbed. But nothing Saturday. Well, I take that back. Remember how I talked about the bank? With my budget, I bought a book for a buck, “This Dog’s Afterlife.”

Coincidence, you think? Braxton is a hard habit to break, and I don’t plan on it anytime soon. I told M Anime that she makes it difficult for men to date her. Getting close, nope? I’m doing the same thing when it comes to fur-babies. My Day Job, as always, sucks. Say the magic words “Humiliations Galore.” I’ve been chasing one chick’s Yabbos for weeks now. It’s a good thing God gave Adam a woman and not a dog. I’ve got neither, but which did more damage? Ahh, yes, bring on the waterworks Day 279. So with all the things wrong with me, what should worry me, Luna? I wish it was NaNoWriMo; I’m lying. The truth is worse. Braxton’s Dead, B Aching My Heart

279 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 125 ~By The Ladder B~

Up the ladder to the roof. Like the song. I didn’t get that high today. Days like this have me thinking about Jenny wanting to jump off that bridge in Forrest Gump. I don’t fear heights, but if I had gone flying through the air today? By The Ladder B

Wednesday, November 3, 2021

Chronicle 125 ~By The Ladder B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I know something about the corporate ladder. If you mean my Day Job… Fuck.

Pardon my French, Inspector. If I had fallen off a ladder today, that would have been the last word I would say. It would be more to the tune of “Thank You.” Falling’s a luxury. It takes far more courage to jump. Hell, I jump all the time, out of FEAR, a firm tone, a girl I want to fuck. If I had taken a few more bumps on the head today, I’d learn something. Only it’s as if I played a few rounds of Glass Stepping Stones from Squid Game. No matter where I put my feet today, every step sent me falling. But I kept climbing, why, Echo? The higher I go, the easier it would be to find Braxton. Isn’t that poetic?

Surprised I can even remember what that is. Aren’t I supposed to be on some incredible rise, writing? Between my unpublished poetry and NaNoWriMo, which I’ll be lying to. Only I haven’t been lying about my genuine desire. Yes, Inspector Echo, something else is rising, besides the dick in my pants. Let’s say that Pounds have Dollars beat for sure. OnlyFans girls would be P.O’ed at me. Climbing ladders for $12.00 per hr ain’t helping. Again, I was supposed to be somebody, a leader. Instead, I was followed by a puppy of the human variety all day. Look, I have issues. Understatement of the century but actual mental problems? Do people see me like him? A supervisor asked, could she buy me a Christmas gift.

As long as it doesn’t breathe and doesn’t remind me of the dead. It has to be about B III. In better days, every dollar made scaling those ladders would be for Braxton to eat. Inspector Echo, we are in the days of Humiliations Galore. As always, but more noticeable. I’m hanging all sorts of balls/ornaments on the ceiling. I’m wondering where my balls are. Oh yeah, I’m splashing the contents all over some girl attempting to see her Yabbos. Inspector, I’m having a ball instead of working on my novel. I mentioned NaNo’s lie. Echo, to be a better man and work all night like when Braxton was here. The latter man sucks compared to my former self. Braxton’s Daddy. By The Ladder B.

276 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

I’m sure someone said something wise of grief and hunger, not that I found it… I’m not that smart. All I know is that when Braxton died, my Ma asked whether I was eating, and I picked up ribs. Are you hungry seems easy enough to ask? “To The B Eve’d”

Saturday, October 30, 2021

Chronicle 121 ~To The B Eve’d~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I must be clever? Well, you saw that title. “Behave In The Cherry Patch?”

No, NaNoWriMo Eve is tomorrow, and so is Halloween. Let’s not forget Fear The Walking Dead and Walking Dead: World Beyond. The start of a new week and my list of eff ups aka Six Impossible Things. But um, God “rested” on the 7th day. Yep so did B III. But my story, didn’t I say I would be bringing characters back from the dead? My “loves?” Or am I digging myself into a tiny grave when it comes to writing? There will be some “plowing,” in my words. Don’t remind me, yesterday was all about Blue Balls, Lunalesca. I don’t know how I’m going to write with that kind of pain. Oh, right, the only bodily fluids leaving were tears over B III again.

Saturday was B’s last full day. He couldn’t do a damn thing but Test His Might. If God made woman from one of man’s ribs, man took another and gave it to the dog. Oh yeah, the dog was smart enough to bring it back. Ooh, that was not a gripe at women, Lady Luna. Hell, if anything, I’m not the man sitting on his ass drinking a beer and watching the game. I’m the boy lying in his bed waiting for his best friend to come back home. Braxton would be proud. I ignored him most of the week, but he was no fan of Sundays. That’s the truth. Once again, it’s Saturday, but I guess I’m getting an early start on my grief.

Braxton, boobs, and that “bad man” better known as Dad. One I’ll never see again, two I want to avoid, and three is calling Monday. But Sunday will always be the worst day for me. Some things are supposed to be said, smart things for sad times. Only every single day feels like a funeral, but I’m not sure whose. Yet I stay crying over one, my Little B. Lady Luna, is that why I don’t want to talk about today? I betrayed him when I watched him dying. I go and look at the other fur-babies like B III hasn’t been gone 272 Days. There’s no day or night, only life and death. Stories, Saturdays, my sucky life. Say What? To The B Eve’d

272 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 118 ~Dad Of A B~

Didn’t I get promoted at some point? Thursday, I’ll know if I was a child that was lied to about Christmas morning. $12.00 an hour I should be ashamed, or that I’m paying Love Wolf how much? It was different when I was working for B III. “Dad Of A B”

Wednesday, October 27, 2021

Chronicle 118 ~Dad Of A B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but none of that would bring life or, being specific, Braxton back. The same old regret

Braxton was/is a better man than me, and as I’ve said, what’s the best part of manhood? Fatherhood. Waking up at 37, mourning a son gone 269 Days, knowing you’ll never have another fur-baby or human. For my failures, Braxton would’ve been a good dad. Hell, he made a man out of me. I once thought that’s what women are for. Did I offend anyone? No more than myself with Humiliations Galore this week, but we’ll get to that. I should have let Braxton breed. I could have gotten a free puppy. Being a granddad? Braxton was terrified of girls, well, furry girls because he was so in love with Carolina Bound’s Yabbos. If you’re wondering where I’ve been this morning. Yeah, it’s Yabbos related.

But wait, didn’t I say I’m AHEM “determined to live a life of abstinence—no partying, no women, no nothing.” Thank you, Monique Moreau. Yet I’m still drooling over M Anime, Cherry, “LL,” a paid subscription to Love Wolf… Less ashamed of that than yesterday. Inspector, where are my “huge cojones, well other than OnlyFans, of course. So yesterday, the truck supervisor left for some emergency. This dude younger than me, who’s worked for fewer years than me, takes over the truck crew. And I let him. No fight, nothing. Inspector Echo, I want to run a brothel one day. I’m reading about some guy’s harem this week, “Dystopian Girls 2.” I call myself a Dominant, but I am no leader of men. The truth.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RNgVFY-xZLc

When I was in the Navy for a “couple” of weeks, I couldn’t do a damn thing by myself. Even now, when something goes wrong, I have to go running to my “father” for help. Keeping Braxton alive, though, once we were out on our own. Well, the ending result. Braxton, my little B, B III, “my eldest son, heir to my throne, defender of my kingdom,” is gone. In a way, he’s lucky to be free of this place. That he does not have to watch, his father fall. Yup, that’s a bit from Troy (2004). Anyway, B does watch, and that’s my shame. It’s all that’s holding me together. Because people, seeing me. Seeing myself, I’m my son’s daddy. Dad Of A B.

269 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 114 ~No, Not The B’s~

The bed’s not a mess, but then again, I might have to make it to see a difference. As if anything makes a difference when one political supports the Nazis. The years before, when I had a girl of the week, Anya, Panam, Jen. B’s still gone. No, Not The B’s

Saturday, October 23, 2021

Chronicle 114 ~No, Not The B’s~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, meaning I’d buy a safe place for animals not lucky like B. Blue Pills and Bullets.

The places my mind goes. Last night I didn’t dream about Braxton. But the dream I did have. Now Lu, like everything else in my life, it’s second-rate, second-best, and didn’t allow a second round. Let’s say I should call a physician as it lasted over four hours. Lady Lu, living in a would-be tyranny thanks to the Republican Party. That’s not to say I like the Democrats either. Um, M Anime is all for Anarchy but in a peaceful sort of way. Anyway, so my dream was of Wolfenstein, well, Anya Oliwa-Blazkowicz, to be specific. She wasn’t the only one; there was Panam Palmer from Cyberpunk 2077. And Jennifer Mallick, aka “Huck” TWD World Beyond. There were a few more. But leaving it there.

So as the song goes, AHEM, Lady Gaga “Sexxx Dreams.” This might explain why I didn’t get off on it. Despite how long I lounged around in bed. I still am at 7:20. It would have been something if I were only watching the performance, but I was “Begging,” Lunalesca. Did I mention my ears are being assaulted by everything? Okay, love the music, yup. Lunalesca, if you didn’t know, the Nazis that I’ve often read about are here, Republicans. Oh, there’s the Alec Baldwin shooting. It’s been on my mind. Shutting everything off. Ain’t that the dream? I wish I had thought about that yesterday. No, I save all my wishes for Braxton to come home. Or to go trust that chick from Facebook.

Hell, I wish I could enact a punishment that I know I deserve for B III. I’m a weak man. Always under the influence of a pair of breasts, boobs, books talking about them, hmm? Always at the mercy of bucks, bills, benjamins. Speaking of which, an errand for today. Always afraid of bullets, ballistics, busting a cap as the kids say nowadays? Staying away. Better an excursion to the bank than being with a weapon I shouldn’t touch, definitely. There’s the other weapon poking up, and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours, damn it. As I said, the dreams. If I dreamed of Braxton, I’d be bawling my eyes out, which will happen sometime today. Instead, my balls are useless. No, Not The B’s

265 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 111 ~Bucket Says B III~

All the small things, chicken biscuits off the shelves and not getting them in the drive-thru. The Yabbo files I’ve been working on instead of writing. Of course, there is always my little boy, gone 262 Days. “Bucket Says B III,” sometimes.

Wednesday, October 20, 2021

Chronicle 111 ~Bucket Says B III~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would make it in for a chicken biscuit sometime today. There’s always time.

Um, no, there’s not, but I did wake up around two AM today. But getting two more hours of sleep, I woke up at four and then fell right back to sleep, yep. It’s not nightmares but wanting to wake up dead and then seeing death staring you in the face. B was my life. Doggie kisses or some pretty girl’s… it’s been a long time since I’ve made a comparison. Where are we now; 262 Days without Little B. Even longer when it comes to the chicks. Hell, all the chicks in the world wouldn’t make up for Braxton being here. A monk again? I’m trying Inspector Echo, twisting my legs all into knots. As it stands, 3 Days, 17 Hours. Yes, it’s timed.

Braxton isn’t very patient when it comes to his favorite things in the world. Going outside, a biscuit for his bathroom spot, doggie cuddles from Moi? Inspector, it’s Fries always. These days as a routine, I stop and pick up fries except for Saturdays. If I’m going to betray my best friend. When I pick up a box of Street Tacos, I’ll choose onion rings. Bastard. Only this week, all I’ve wanted is a chicken biscuit but with the “promotion” and all. As the song goes, “Work sucks, I know.” If I go pick one up today, what’s left this week? Echo, a lesson from Braxton, “The best legs, breasts, and thighs are in a bucket of chicken.” My little boy was a wise one.

I’m not talking about my penis; that would be my big boy, right? Besides thinking of the vittles, I haven’t been getting. Or my Braxton, of course. It’s been all about boobs, some Yabbos. When you’re hauling boxes of crap, what’s a man to do? If I was writing Echo? Now I’m not complaining about OnlyFans. I’m thinking the reason I started that is because the house is Hell. But the Day Job is what took me away from Braxton. Should I be thanking them or cursing them? At least the ASM quit, so yay. I still need to eat. Chicken for my table or more like for Braxton’s tummy. For now, I’ll go write at the dining room table, SIGH. Bucket Says B III

262 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 107 ~To B The Boss~

I got soul, but I’m not a soldier, which explains why I never made it in the Navy or the Army. I was a Dad, but where’s my son? Now somebody wants me to be the boss, and I think about how much I effed up Thursday. Me being in charge, “To B The Boss.”

Saturday, October 16, 2021

Chronicle 107 ~To B The Boss~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which makes me “The Man.” Hell, I’m a man, I keep telling myself. The world disagrees.

Now I’m not in the LGBTQ community though I support it. God only knows the number of friends titties I want to see, SIGH. Braxton was enamored with Carolina Bound’s. Some things I couldn’t give my son. I wish he had met his stepmom. But “How To Be The Man.” Day one when B and I found ourselves on the porch of this place. I hugged my boy, and I said, “we have to look out for each other. It’s only us now.” Oh, and now I have one bedroom made into a Den. The second one is The Library/B III’s Room. Uh yeah, family. I’ve said and not to sound like “idgit” Marjorie Taylor Greene but being a father is the epitome of manhood.

It was/is the most tremendous honor, privilege, duty of my life. Thou Art Courageous to take up such a task. Great men do not seek power; it is thrust upon them. Before I rip off another game or show, do you remember Little B jumping into the car choosing me? Lunalesca, I picked him the moment I saw him in my Old Man’s hands. Hell, I don’t know what to do with myself, but it was effortless with B III. Love. That’s why I’m so lost. I don’t love myself, and while I care for my friends, when I’m not staring at their tiddies. Yeah, I should stop watching Emily. Anyway, I refuse to lead anyone else to ruin, to death, or worse, my STUPIDITY.

That’s why this boss man stuff has me so terrified. It’s not like I’ve even acted on anything; I only got the promotion Thursday. It took me fifteen years to fail Braxton. I hear you, Lady Lu, that was old age. We’re talking what a few months here. Humiliations Galore. Yesterday I was looking over the schedule thinking as soon as I saw my position… Lunalesca, I didn’t go crawling into the bed, but again I failed six impossible things. Braxton and I knew Yabbos could fix anything. Boobs and chocolate before The End, ha. It would have been the least I could do as his Daddy. As his boss? My boy led me through life. My Turn To B III. To B The Boss

258 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will