Chronicle 167 ~Wings, No Bill, Braxton~

I had days off from the Day Job. How did I see to it that they weren’t wasted? I got Astigmatism and the Doc. I could use some new glasses. Well, as long as I can see my son… oh right. Um, I could go blind for “other” things. Wings, No Bill, Braxton

Wednesday, December 15, 2021

Chronicle 167 ~Wings, No Bill, Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so I could help so many dogs, but I can’t afford the wings. Not again, Inspector.

Astigmatism isn’t fatal, but there’s a reason I’m not spending $350 to $550 on glasses. Yabbos, I “love” incredible Yabbos. I could feel my way Echo. And always, Spank Bank. There’s the fact that I broke my “streak” yesterday. They say you’ll go blind “jacking.” Inspector, I also know that I’ll never see anything as beautiful as Braxton. No, my friend, all I saw was the $138.00 that my Day Job card won’t pay off. Even when I’m not there, the Day Job results in Humiliations Galore with my declined card. Then I went through the trouble of making a claim. That, of course, will be rejected. There’s also the fact that if I took more from my paycheck, boom, new glasses. Not this year.

I’d joke with B III that he’d become a seeing-eye dog, or I’d be a seeing-eye man. It turned out to be the latter as I carried him and heard B’s vets. “Don’t move anything,” they said when he was still on 4 legs. 318 Days Echo, everything remains. Always Echo. Now I’m planning on buying a frame weekly since only two treats remain. I could go scrounging around in the crumbs again and hope to find a few more, but again my eyes, my eyes. I should check to see if Walmart sells dog frames. NO giving my Day Job cash! Better to be a live chicken with my cowardice in that place than a dead duck. It’s not fair, Inspector. Life’s not fair.

That was pretty much me in the tub yesterday working on Stuff And Thangs for OnlyFans. Hell, one of the reasons I would keep the door open instead of having my private time is B III. Braxton would need me, or he’d rest against my leg if he was sick. Braxton was never one for water. Which is why I took him to the groomers. Being mad at them took a bit of the heat off me since I took him there. He didn’t want to be a duck or an angel. And yet, in trying to stop him from gaining his wings. I murdered Braxton. Dammit, that was dark, and um, books tell me I didn’t. Yet, I’m still alive. Wings, No Bill, Braxton.

318 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

Not to get all racial or woke, but I’m the black workhorse at my Day Job, um mule. My manager is black, but the CEO is a white lady. So when’s the last time I made a real choice? Only me? Braxton’s death? “Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing.”

Monday, December 13, 2021

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

Two-Hundred and Eighteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I answer to no one. Well, shareholders, if I’m in business. But to be God…

I’m a BELIEVER… NOT. Only I know why men made God in their own image and not vice versa. A white man, giving brown people orders. The same guy, trying to save the Jewish people from themselves. And who takes credit for everything. America, America. Hell, thinking is hard work. This is why most people tend not to do it. A long time ago (a couple of weeks), I didn’t. I could pump my ears full of music or listen to people speak of imaginary worlds. Obeying my “superiors” was easy. Without this J? RAGE!!! Every day I become more and more of a Republican. Not in ideology but in practice. When you disagree… it feels like dying or killing.

Dangerous words, I know, Madam. Now Braxton was the best boss I ever had. “Then you’ll find your servant is your master,” as the song goes. I swear I became a savant of his doggie language. A soldier, faithful and loyal. A sling, carrying him around, my son B III. When he stopped breathing, I swear I stopped too. Who was in charge? It’s like that episode of The Twilight Zone circa 2002 “The Path.” Braxton could read me, and through him AHEM, “I believe I can see the future.” I did what was needed to keep us going, J. Now what’s left to me now is the breathing, and you know how I am about that most days. I don’t want to, I’m afraid to, it hurts a lot.

But I’m in charge. Stupid me beats out my manager, managing Olds, pairs of mammaries. We, of course, know that’s a lie because I’ll be going back to my Day Job at some point, Madam. If anything, I must obey my Olds, or I’m homeless a loser at thirty-seven, Madam. Mammaries, Yabbos, Tits, you ask me why I’m sitting here naked planning on working on my Stuff And Thangs today. Did I, honest to God, believe; I was going to be an OnlyFans star? Nope but that’s what I get for listening to one head instead of the other, Madam. Once I read everything is about sex, but sex is about power. Our ultimate obedience is to power, not life. Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing

316 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 163 ~Why I Didn’t B~

Why I didn’t bring him home, more like why didn’t I bring him back alive but you know I’m one for music and the truth. That is, if I’m not “Manifesting” the worst possible scenario for my life. Not like I’m living or trying. Why I Didn’t B.

Saturday, December 11, 2021

Chronicle 163 ~Why I Didn’t B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but why wasn’t I sooner? Uh, because you’re a fucking lazy ass? Braxton gave that look.

Only what was I talking about last week or the week before? Noticing puppy paws? Besides the paws that were too big, I also saw tails. What dog would be happy seeing the Cheshire cat smiling down on them (My Mask)? Um, only pups deserve a smile, Lady Lu. So why am I still sitting here alone? I’m over the whole “Chase” scenario. I’ll never be over Braxton, but Chase sealed it. It’s a Chihuahua or nothing. I told you I’m a dog snob. Braxton ruined me for other dog breeds, and don’t think about it like that, Lunalesca. Well below losing Braxton and my paranoia. It’s that fucking Mariah Carey song All I Want for Christmas Is You. My answer, my B III alive.

So why didn’t I try harder? Republican tendencies or more like Slave Mentality. Work hard, do what you’re told. Hell, when I’m not at the Day Job, I’m getting myself into so much trouble. One way or another, I will myself into a punishment all for B III, I know. Why didn’t I dream positive thoughts today? That’s not my motivational speeches talking… fucking Day Job. Instagram is trying to pick up the slack, sending me “inspiration” from some rich white guys. Most days, my only motivation is not to get fired from Hell, Lady Lu. Everything “I Rise” for is no damn good for me. That includes my novel, which I haven’t looked at upon completion. NaNoWriMo should kick me out, I swear Lunalesca.

Why I didn’t stop myself from lying. I wanted to win, and I did the 50,000 words ok. I did. Why I didn’t stop myself; from stuffing my face when I came back? Tradition Lunalesca. Why I didn’t live in a way that would make B III proud of me. He would still be alive. Yet the most fucked up thing I’ll say about today is this. I “Don’t Know Why” I didn’t come. Yes, we both know I have a thing for hot brunettes. Michelle Branch, Vanessa Carlton, Norah Jones, Mariah Carey, ha. Anyway, I’m still claiming monk status after what happened this morning. I didn’t come. I didn’t cum. Who am I trying to convince? Hmm. TMI right? Living? Why I Didn’t B

314 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

Most of the stories I write end in a brothel someplace. And I won’t dare to say I’m one to write a harem romance. As for this month, I’ll only be reading Christmas “stories.” And hoping by the end, well… not looking for miracles. B There Bad Stories.

Friday, December 10, 2021

Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I’ll never tell the story of inherited wealth. I work. The Day Job’s the worst.

So I tell myself an even worse tale. Today while I was buried in boxes, of course, I thought of those last few minutes before I resigned my son to one. I ignored everything else. Sophia, if I had done that before and focused on B III, he would still be with me. I mean more than spirit. How long am I going to tell this story, hmm? Nothing’s more horrible. You’re asking about good stories. I tried that while I was buying coffee for Cherry. Sad that my paycheck has never been that big. It was only because of 3 paid vacation days, ha. America, America. If you wonder why I have been avoiding the news for some time now. End of the world…

Please, my world ended on Sunday, January 31, 2021, at around 3:30 – 3:45 PM. The Revolution Will Not Be Televised. Watch World War III On Pay TV. No, I’m not scared. Yet another lie. Now don’t get me wrong, Lady Sophia, I’m not afraid for the country. We’re beyond screwed, but no. As always, I’m one selfish prick. Always bad words. OnlyFans Lady Sophia. My Stuff and Thangs if you’re wondering where I was tonight. Well, this afternoon, for the most part. A picture is worth a thousand words or $5.00. Only where was I this morning? Besides my good deed for today, I was waiting for sirens, boots at the door. To be on the news. The one tale I don’t want to tell

Like my tears, but they always come. Today they were brought on by another book I’m reading. I’m getting into the Christmas spirit, my first one ever alone thirty-seven years. So the story is called “The Christmas Nanny” by Elizabeth Kelly. Remember I read her work last year, “The Christmas Wife.” Should I read the one with the dog? NEVER!!! Sophia, you know the stories I tell to myself at night? I was telling myself the story of Final Fantasy VIII. Only freaking YouTube reactions. I’ve been watching Squid Game. Okay, I mean the reactions now. How I wish my Gganbu would come back all rich. Knowing Braxton, food wouldn’t be an issue. A Christmas miracle. I got some time, only B There Bad Stories.

313 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 160 ~B Not Ashamed Today~

Today was uneventful at the Day Job. Not a win, but it could have been far worse. I’m ashamed I had to go to such a place but not what I did getting back to the house. For the love of money, for the love of Braxton. B Not Ashamed Today

Wednesday, December 8, 2021

Chronicle 160 ~B Not Ashamed Today~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and like the others, have I no shame, have I no honor? I don’t have Braxton.

That fact alone bothers me more than anything. Looking at the date, I see I missed any remembrance of Pearl Harbor. Way before my time, of course, but history lessons? Inspector, I haven’t forgotten my Ma’s birthday yet. I should put an alert on the phone to be safe. Do I even have the money to get her anything? A present from B and me. Inspector, I’m not bothered by all that begging I did the other day with Cherry yesterday. Hell, I’m a guy, and I like Yabbos. Everything I’ve ever wanted from this world is not for me. If anything, I should be grateful for days like today. Say it with me “Humiliations Galore.” Only when there’s nothing of real merit Inspector Echo.

Nothing of real merit. Like my body? The things that happen since I have claimed monk status once again. It hasn’t even been thirty days yet and tonight is a hard one if you catch my meaning. Find a way to survive the night. I want to go back to I Am Legend, for real. Braxton and I never hid in a bathtub. With him around, I was never scared for myself. Well, no, that’s a lie in a way. I was afraid that I would leave him alone. I stay alive for him. If he sees me now. Sad that he’s the only one who does, meaning find clothes. Inspector, this afternoon I was back to Stuff And Thangs after a month. NaNoWriMo season.

That’s how I should be making my money with writing. How long have I had this blog? How about all that money I paid to have Gulp published? NaNoWriMos completed? Instead, it’s like I’m content to waste another decade at the Day Job. Even if every day was like today, it’s still Hell. My very own Skid Row, and here I am playing Seymour Krelborn. I keep telling myself I’ll do anything to escape, which means this… Stay Awake. Inspector, I would rather be naked, isn’t that so? As long as I sleep uninterrupted. Inspector, that’s what I should be ashamed of. Waking up because B III needs me is one thing, but my fucking Day Job? The promise of fries. B Not Ashamed Today.

311 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 158 ~Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won~

Pick up your cross peace is found at the lance’s point. Pens are mightier than swords. All I want is to carry my son. A season of peace, but I hate Christmas, like the dude in Succubus Christmas Special. I’ll behave, but Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won

Monday, December 6, 2021

Chronicle 158 ~Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won~

Two-Hundred and Seventeenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that counts as winning. You don’t get “better” than that, as far as I can see.

To be honest, today, I don’t feel like fighting anymore. One more reason I had Braxton. A son shouldn’t fight his father’s battles, but how often will I say this? I’m out for the count, and there he is, watching over me. Braxton’s protection. A toy dog? Toy Soldier. Madam, I’m not wise. So they say, um, grief is love with no place to go. Oh, ok, true enough. The same can be said with rage. My rage is justice that can never be served, but it stays, Madam. I feel like fucking Oceania. That might be a decent stripper name, but I don’t mean it like that. It’s more like George Orwell’s “1984.” The war inside myself is continuous, and I didn’t even start this shit. It’s not fair.

All’s fair in love and war, and I don’t want either. At least I don’t want to be alone, J. As the song goes, “before you start a war, you better know what you’re fighting for.” Again “don’t put your blame on me.” I’m sick of it, and yet I stay. There’s nothing else, Madam. So why not try winning? If anything, why not try fighting at all? Today’s example… Madam, when I was “young,” and of course you know this tale, but I was in the navy a bit. I thought I would find my manhood somehow with serving. Three weeks later… Sigh. Anyway, today, a coworker busted her lip after slipping on the floor. And me being a gentleman… Gotcha, I stayed put.

A good man would have helped her. A brave man wouldn’t have spent all day hiding as the womenfolk went rushing into the rain. After a decade of wasting his life, a real man would be running that place. Yes, I’m fighting a war, Madam, against grief, rage, and fear. Going all Yoda on your ass? Ass, I’ll behave, Madam, Nineteen Days, Cherry, Carolina Bound might be pissed. So here I am, my enemies are known, in a war I never asked for. And if you told me I could stop fighting? Thirty-seven years and at least I ain’t dead. 309 Days without my son, brother-in-arms, and tireless defender. To accept that I can win this without Braxton… UNACCEPTABLE. But Wars Aren’t Fair; They’re Won.

309 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 156 ~B Feet Gives Paws~

Like father like son, Me and B III like and get annoyed with the same things. We both like boobs and hate feet. Then it came to his paws, and I did everything in my power to protect his and stay on my feet with my horrific Day Job. B Feet Gives Paws.

Saturday, December 4, 2021

Chronicle 156 ~B Feet Gives Paws~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so when I say stuff like that title. No matter what, I’m still pretty damn funny.

Didn’t I say sometime this week I hate being funny? I also hate where my feet lead me somedays. Pretty much my Day Job, PetSmart, and preparing to live my life as such. In other words, errands. So, of course, that’s what I was doing today. Um, after PetSmart Lu. We’ll get to that. But first, a confession. Hell, not even that. A simple fact. I HATE FEET. It’s just the way I am, Lunalesca. Call it a personal preference like having a thing for brunettes, before them Asian women. Or being a breast man. All women have breasts, Lu. Okay, to some degree, at least. Women have feet too. Yet I adore one and hate the other, I swear. Reasons women don’t like me…

So what does this have to do with my son as everything does? Going on 307 days. How about his 15 years of life? Well, this morning, I’m going into PetSmart, and I see this familiar van that carries some of the dogs, I believe. I walk in, but they aren’t at their usual spot. Needless to say, I was pissed, which is my standard mood. But since I look at the kitties too, I keep going. And I hear the dogs barking in the distance. They moved their cages. Anyway, I started my window shopping and then it hit me looking at the smallest. Cinderella, I swear that’s where I heard this Lady Lu but “Your Feet’s Too Big.” Or paws in this instance.

Yes, I can be a fucking snob, shallow, or some sort of messed-up guy. But I looked at those furries, and the moment I saw their paws, it was an instant “NO” from me. One of the ladies said they would have different dogs tomorrow. Recovering Lunalesca, but trying. I do mean from the Day Job. I didn’t have it in me to try and change my shifts today. That’s gross, my weakness, but what isn’t gross are Braxton’s paws. My B’s toesy wosies. He hated me touching them or rushing him to the vet when they said he stepped on a pine cone wrong. I love Chihuahuas, nice Yabbos and B’s nails clicking on hardwood floors. But Feet, no thanks? B Feet Gives Paws.

307 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 155 ~To B Humiliated Soon~

Coming soon… yeah, I should shut up now, but I would talk about “adult situations” much easier than the effing Day Job. And the fact that I will go back next week and the week after. Aren’t I ashamed… of what happened to B III? “To B Humiliated Soon”

Friday, December 3, 2021

Chronicle 155 ~To B Humiliated Soon~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I have yet to tell a comeback story. Now the humiliating ones. Oh, every day.

Will it feel like a holiday? Did I get a holiday after the past 2 days? Considering I’m counting 3 things instead of 10. My words are still a rush of nonsense but a minimum today. The General Manager, Boss Lady, is still a… I think I told you about people making rules addressing everybody but meaning you. The same comes for giving out orders, fucking truck. And in the end, you know how much I hate to be touched, Lady Sophia. Do I look like a bitch? Don’t answer that, but a fist bump? Lady Sophia, can’t people respect, hands-off? Braxton helped me come up with my rule. If you ain’t my dog, my girl, or applying? Hands-off me. Should tell that to me.

As you know, I’m a fan of a particular pornographic actress, a pretty poet. And plenty of pinup playable characters made porn by certain artists. Anyway, where is all my money going again? Only I haven’t seen a plump yabbos in weeks. Monk status regained? Yeah, Lady Sophia, when I’m not being a “holy roller,” it’s like I’m one of the dead or the Reaper himself. Tomorrow as routine, I’m heading to PetSmart again. Now, this isn’t the point, but my shame when I left without Braxton and then with him in a doggie bag. That was not funny, I know, my Lady, but I’m all cried out for now. Hell, I’m somewhat surprised steam isn’t coming from my eyes in all my rage, geez.

Rage leaves you nowhere to hide. Can’t see the forest for the trees? All that is left is me. If Stuff & Thangs taught me anything. It’s that I’m not scared necessarily, Sophia. Dammit, next week with all my clothes on is much worse. Than writing, wanking, and working out how to keep my head above water. The idea of drowning in reality, creepy. Take that how you will. I even worry about the dumb stuff, like someone asking me what book I’m reading. Well, ‘tis the season, so Sophia, witness, Succubus Christmas Special. Lady Sophia, it’s something to do while I wait for next week and more of my Humiliations Galore. The comedian is dead, but the laughs keep coming. To B Humiliated Soon

306 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 153 ~About Last Lie Braxton~

I told B the truth most of his days. Ringing a doorbell, or you’re not in trouble, B; there’s no pill in the peanut butter, cheese, or hot dog. Then a Wednesday like this one, I told the truth when his truth was he was dying. “About Last Lie Braxton”

Wednesday, December 1, 2021

Chronicle 153 ~About Last Lie Braxton~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now so that I by no means have to relive this day. I told Braxton, “Shush It.”

“Merciful Father, I have squandered my days with plans of many things. This was not among them. But at this moment, I beg only to live the next few minutes well.” ― The 13th Warrior

I want to talk about and yet don’t want to talk about his death. The last lies I told Braxton. But again, it was a day like today when he was crying, and I grabbed him up. I cuddled him and slept like the dead. I, of course, found him on guard duty. Humiliations Galore… I told Braxton all of them that day, as I’ll share these with you. What B III died listening to.

One. The floor pads/rugs, whatever were replaced at the Day Job because I was STUPID. Two, getting ragged on by two bitches in the stockroom. There were two different supervisors.

Three, standing there like a fucking idiot just laughing and smiling like a damn clown. Four, you know how I despise those cowards that can’t call a person out. So they make arbitrary rules to be a bigot, a racist, a zealot, an asshole, or again fucking STUPID. How I hate that word. Anyway, the manager goes all-in on “air pods” and phones Inspector. Did I mention who bought a new pair of headphones and uses them pretty religiously?

Five, someone tried to steal my work cart while I was working, making me look stupider. Six, this associate asked me for help, and I did after my babbling, mumbling bumbling. Seven, to further point out my ineptitude, I get undue praise from a manager. Dumbass. Eight, I failed in helping a customer and got embarrassed in front of “Customer Service.” Nine, I ignore another customer who eventually tracks me down for help with the kiosk. Ten, being called out in front of people for my air pods. I fear to touch my phone at all.

I had to keep a list Inspector, and even now, I’m sure I’m missing a few. What about my shame outside of the Day Job? Well, as you can see, I gained every NaNoWriMo badge. Did I write 50,000 words? YES, 50,200 almost. Did I write every day for NaNoWriMo? Hell no! I didn’t get 1,667 words each day. I didn’t write for so many days in a row. On the 30th, I checked to see I “got” every badge. It hurts less to lie to them than to my son. I was honest; I tried. About Last Lie Braxton

304 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 151 ~Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men~

Docs have diagnosed me with plenty over 37 years. Social Anxiety, Bipolar Depression, Astigmatism (eyes in my head). Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder sigh. The Day Job takes advantage and how I keep a specific collection. Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men

Monday, November 29, 2021

Chronicle 151 ~Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men~

Two-Hundred And Sixteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, but as the song goes, “He doesn’t look a thing like Jesus.” But today, “It Is Finished.”

Can I be any more profane, offensive, or STUPID? That’s how I feel about today, J. Can’t I be positive for one whole minute? If I weren’t suffering from a massive case of blue balls at the moment but we’ll get to that. First things first, I’m not lying to NaNoWriMo. That’s right, Madam, for the fifth time, according to the good people at NaNoWriMo, I have completed my 50,000 words. This is the part of the story where I would pick Braxton up and dance. Of course, we’ll get to that too. Right now, my legs are twisted pretzel-like. So I finished “Behave In A Cherry Patch,” so as NaNoWriMo says, Now What? I want all the fucking badges. I can’t stand it, Madam.

Apologies for the language, but I was obsessed with writing my novel and every badge Madam. Come December 1st, I’ll never think about it again until Camp NaNoWriMo. I’ve finished three this year, two camps, and November without my boy. Um, today there was Cherry. Hell, even before her, there was Ariella Ferrera, Yuffie Kisaragi, to say the least. How many times have I wished I could be a regular guy that watches porn? No, I’m one for intimacy, meaning I need everything. Do I need to go over the list again of frightened women? Money though? Every CEO, billionaire, Mafia Don. Whatever money man gets the women in the novels I read. Or a beard and/or a motorcycle. I’m in on some particular Yabbos.

But at least for now, my grief is richer. My promise, my vow to B III. 11 Days right now. It’s been 302 Days without Braxton, though. I believe before, and then when he died, I went 161 Days. B give me strength that I don’t give in to temptation and since I’m done, Madam. Braxton is my obsession. But when he was alive, though, I became indifferent. Obsession leads to trouble, Madam. And it seems, for the most part, my obsession is my own pain. As another song goes, I’m just a sucker for pain. Yeah, fuck you, Hemingway, for dinging the word “just” and the name Grammarly. Oh, there’s the $139.00 you took, Grammarly dammit. Stories, Boobies, Doggies. Obsessed Men Are Dangerous Men.

302 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will