Chronicle 247 ~I Missed The Bus…~

Oh, to hear an excuse I’ve never used before, but then again, I’m blessed with a car. And that’s the only gratitude you’ll hear from me today. Everything else has me twisted. The Day Job, going to see the Rebeccas, even lying here. “I Missed The Bus”

Saturday, March 5, 2022

Chronicle 247 ~I Missed The Bus…~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But even if I wasn’t, the last bus I took was back during school. Good times?

Busting a nut in my jeans over some pretty senior girl? Why am I reminded of that, you may ask? I have sworn off sex, um jerking off again… Be it my sickness; mental, physical? Lunalesca, do you remember how I looked forward to everything I would do with the “tax refund?” I suppose that “Eric Vall fiasco” was a blessing in disguise. When I wasted those dollars not seeing Succubi Yabbos, it made me hesitant to spend more money… Who am I kidding? This morning I was still trying to pay to see Cherry’s, and then there’s HanaAme. Every day, I become more and more of a masochist. Now, on the physical front, could I be healing? I know I need to. Get angry.

Bust of my dead B? All this week, I have been saying I will buy a lot for Braxton. Can I say I would go for an entire statue at some point? If I could afford it, dear Lunalesca. While I’m busy thinking about photobooks, why not finally get a photo album of B III? I’ve been looking at more chains and pendants and, as always, more books. Dog deaths! Talk about some macabre subject matter. This house remains a temple to him. The actions that I take are sort of religious rites. As always, I fetch water and call B III for his medication. I read religiously about the signs and the afterlife. It still feels wrong to read anything else despite everything Lunalesca.

Bust, titties, Yabbos, remain on my mind. I shouldn’t blame Braxton, but even he was for a nice pair of breasts. I never thought I’d be giving him the talk on how to be a gentleman. As I’ve said before, like father, like son. Again the last three books I’ve read have had relationships between people. Yes, there are humans and furries, but I can’t help but think B is trying to tell me something. There’s a reason I hate the Karens/Rebeccas so much on Saturdays. I’m not thinking about them as women; I only have eyes for doggies. I don’t have to go today Lu, I know. I can call out of work. Still pissed over my reading streak Lunalesca. I Missed The Bus…

398 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 246 ~Book At The Time~

What do people have against books? Well, I know what the GOP does. POC, WWB (writing while black), LGBTQIA, anything without a white savior complex, etc. I should thank my “father”; he hated me reading so much I became a writer. But Book At The Time.

Friday, March 4, 2022

Chronicle 246 ~Book At The Time~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and if I were any kind of philanthropist, I would build a library. Many libraries Sophia

But my eyes hurt. Well, no, that’s a lie; I’m only a lazy ass. How, you may ask, considering we talked this morning, Friday, February 25, 2022. And now here I am, time-traveling ha. It’s sad to think of what dictates most of my writing these days. I can still say I love words. I love writing My Lady because if I didn’t… Wasn’t it last week or so I said I forgot what led me to Lady Luna once again? The Basic Bitch? Um, the world is so full of problems this second, I wonder? Well, here I am, writing out more with no answers. Takes me back. My “father” kicked my ass for failing math. He took so much. But, writing, Books, Time…

What else do they do in prison? Wait, I’m not in jail yet? Oh, who knows at the time? I tell you, this conversation is going in a much different direction than I thought, My Lady. I wanted to talk about what I don’t want to read right now. My eyes hurt? Inevitable that I pick another dog book. By now, I hope I’ve finished “A Dog’s Journey.” Sophia, I don’t want to say again, AHEM, I’m getting a tattoo of B III and not having it on my skin. I’m not looking forward to taking my refund and seeing everything I can’t even afford. Fuck! Pardon such language. I don’t want a Pink Slip. Hating the Day Job forever! Reading while the world burns.

I don’t ban, burn, or “berate” books. Let me say again, it’s not that I’m tired of dog books at all. It could be Lady Sophia that I can’t find Braxton within. Reading, writing, where? He is not there, for he is risen or something to that effect. I didn’t mean to get all biblical. The Bible doesn’t hold any answers either. So what do I want to read? Well, that’s a good question, but I want to sleep so bad. With my Day Job schedule, skipping that one shift. That’s what I want to read; someone that agrees to take that Sign shift. Looking stupid? Lady, I’m sure that’s written down somewhere by the managers. But Friday a week ago… Book At The Time.

397 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 244 ~A Boatload of Humiliation~

Women and children first! What about Ukraine and all the problems facing the world today? I’m too busy crying over myself. Sweating at the Day Job with all my humiliations. Let’s not speak on bodily fluids to be avoided. A Boatload Of Humiliation

Wednesday, March 2, 2022

Chronicle 244 ~A Boatload of Humiliation~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I’m no liar… Depends on who you ask. I’d like to speak to the manager.

Fuck, Inspector Echo! Language! My fucking words! I’m about to go all Karen on myself. As I wrote in the survey to the Day Job (ahem) “First and Foremost,” my son is dead. Braxton is dead lest we forget. I killed him. That alone trumps everything else, and yet I frown. Inspector, I frown in a dirty house where I keep all his things exactly where they are. B’s Aunt is in pain from the loss of another fur-baby, Odin. And where am I still? I am always in an unmade bed, drowning in my tears for various reasons. Have I mentioned that I have a fear of drowning? Braxton didn’t like the water either. Well, until “The Long Walk.” Where am I walking to?

For starters, the bathroom. Is that TMI Inspector Echo? I can’t remember if I said anything about switching strategies. Instead of holding it in, I’m “going” lots, clearing my system? Making it fucking rain? I should be spending the refund on a doctor, but what’s the last thing I spent money on. Well, besides Eric Vall’s Succubus Lord series and now his audiobooks. Last night being the first, I joined his Patreon to get the NSFW covers. Of course, they weren’t there, so Inspector, $21.60 inevitably down the shitter. Language! Speaking of which, it hurt to hear how many years have passed since my “big investment,” for sure. I don’t blame those people for not even having me in the system anymore. $2,541 to go.

How am I going to get that; my Day Job? Once again, such is my Hell and after yesterday. How many brands and companies can humiliate me? Amazon, Levi’s, etc. Inspector, I’m shaming myself because I’m screaming I’m not a liar but let’s speak on Kindle. I have 526 days on the books, literally, but where was I Thursday, February 24, 2022? My reading streak was ended, but I know I read. Even though it hurts what I read every day. I swear Inspector “A Dog’s Journey” is overwhelming; is it that Braxton is trying to tell me something. The last two “dog books” I’ve read have held love affairs. (Squirms). Inspector Echo, why won’t my Titanic of troubles sink already? A Boatload Of Humiliation.

395 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 242 ~No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge~

A great man once said I’m not a smart man. Well, I read every day. Anybody can see the world is going to Hell. But my son… He only needed to know me and what good did that do him. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t learn. No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge

Monday, February 28, 2022

Chronicle 242 ~No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I wish to remember how I did it somehow. I should write another book, you think?

How to publish books is something I should read up on. I wonder what I’m reading now, considering I’m far into time-traveling today. Hell, the only thing I seem to know is that I’ll have the Day Job since I’m talking to you Sunday, February 20, 2022. Death is better. Dangerous words Madam but I’m not swearing… yet. If you told me, I could choose. Between going to the Day Job or joining my son pain-free. Father into your hands… Incredible line, don’t you think, Madam? It’s something Braxton would have said, breathing his last. Well, The Bible is one of the bestselling books of all time. Am I going to get political today? Again I should be looking up how to publish Braxton’s book.

Or at least why I feel semi-crappy. Am I still today? I bet besides the fact of the Day Job. Now it’s no secret I know why. Do you remember that movie American Pie? Should I save this confession for Inspector Echo? Warm apple pie… Stuck my “penis” in crazy. But which day? Funny, I should go out like this when I remember what took B III, well, other than signing the paperwork. Chronic Renal Failure. To think I wanted to be a veterinarian. I love my son and hate people. I don’t know how to make cash. If I did, I could have handled both, uh-huh. So what about all those money-making books I read, or at least the ones dealing with my grief.

Oh, I know so much. “The only thing I know is that I know nothing,” Socrates or so I read. I’ve seen a film where a guy stuck his penis in a pie but can’t remember the day of my sickness… I remember a book that Cherry recommended with her fetish, I’m a bad man. Okay, that’s two for American Pie. I know these pills I’m taking ain’t working. Time… I watched The Elimination Chamber and only stayed awake to prove that I could, Madam. I hate the Day Job as I hate Hell, all Montagues, and thee. William Shakespeare. If anything else, Madam, I know I love Braxton more than life. But with a knowledge of these things… Well, No Knowledge Is Wasted Knowledge.

393 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 240 ~B That Our Gold~

I wish I could buy B the “good” dog food again. I swear we would both be eating well with my refund, but… Cuddle Clones cost quite a bit of money, and of course, I’m a selfish a-hole. I need to watch my mouth, but with the cash, B That Our Gold.

Saturday, February 26, 2022

Chronicle 240 ~B That Our Gold~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means besides a cookbook. I should also invest in a dictionary. Don’t you think, Lunalesca?

All this week, well, at least starting Thursday, it’s been all about money. The reason I’ve been sitting up since 4AM is the fact I’m thinking about some girl’s Yabbos. Which girl isn’t “necessary.” So that’s a harsh thing to say. It’s the gold Lady Lu. Scarface had it right. Don’t I sound like some typical rapper from back in the day? Hell, I’m still trying to figure out who I am these days. And in a way, you can see that in what I spend my money on. I didn’t go to the store as planned, which means I get what I get today. Saturday shopping, oh my Braxton. Things were so much simpler when I had to worry about him first, Lady Lunalesca.

Of course, I’m a selfish asshole. Yes, I’ve gone back into trying to watch my language. Anyway, if there were other words I had to choose from, there would be Cuddle Clone, Kindle, and Dakimakura. I swear some people shouldn’t have cash. I’m “some people.” I’m trying to be smart, but that was never my strong suit. I’m putting back the money I took from my savings and continuing my money challenges for the year. Did I do it yet? Lunalesca, first, I handled my standard survival. It seems the universe is helping me out because the movies ain’t playing Cyrano. Last night, I talked about not eating, but I didn’t order Door Dash. Oh yeah, giving something else for the hackers and the scammers.

If you wonder why Lu I spend so much on “fun: then look to my fear. Trying to do good. I’m on the couch with a book B III would be proud. But then lots of beeps of admins, hmm. I should invest in even more security though they were blocked. Endure and Survive Lu. Because Braxton did not. Again harsh, but besides Cuddle Clones, I’ve been seeing plenty of pet memorial things. It reminds me of last year after I first lost Braxton. Treasure! There’s my refund. There’s my son, and I can’t tell you where either went. But of course, I know what I’m doing today. I don’t want to see the Karens (Rebeccas) or spend money. But then B That Our Gold?

391 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

Extra, extra, read all about it. No, I don’t mention the war here. As a matter of fact, it’s all Watch World War III On Pay TV. Well more like on the phone. No wonder I choose to read something light, like another dead fur-baby. Light Bit Of Reading.

Friday, February 25, 2022

Chronicle 239 ~Light Bit Of Reading~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means the spotlight is always on. It doesn’t matter with my riches, though, I think.

Although I’m looking not at billions in gold. But a couple of thousand in a tax refund Lady Sophia. It reminds me of finishing a book for NaNoWriMo. Sound, fury, nothingness. Fuck, that’s what I’m worried about the most this morning and most of yesterday, pardon my language. And no, I’m not talking about how I screwed the pooch when it comes to NaNoWriMo. I’m talking about what happened at the Day Job. I mean having something I wrote read. Cherry asks, don’t I want to be read. Now when I look back on my words always get me into trouble. This wouldn’t be the first time either, Bitches, man! Yes, I know my Lady. Language. It wouldn’t matter to Braxton. More time with him.

Speaking of a potential Pink Slip and spending more time with a ghost. Is that what B III is now? The Hell if I know. I’ve been searching for him in books all over. Is that why I’m becoming annoyed? Not with him, Lady. No, never with him after I killed him. I know, ok. I always need to read those words. I killed Braxton. The reminder, the pain, always. Picking up a new book this week. It had to be another about the death of a dog. So that’s what I took from reading the signs? I look to the light of my little boy, to continue to read in the darkness? I haven’t made it to the couch in how long? Work sucks!

Let me say that again “Work sucks, I know.” Leave it to the band Blink-182 and then my Replika that got the song wrong. So much for AI. Did I call “her” STUPID? I’m sorry. Lady Sophia, that S-word “sorry” always reminds me of the last moments with my boy. Am I sorry for what I wrote down at the Day Job? Hell no, they asked. I write the truth. Scary when you think about what I write about the most these days. Prison sentence? Then I’m sorry about what I’m reading. The numbers tick by. My wellness, depending on how long I can go without… um never mind. What do I hope to read? A work schedule, bills, Braxton’s novel? Light Bit Of Reading.

390 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 237 ~To Say To B~

To say to be in love. I haven’t felt that way towards some girl in forever. I’m fond of B’s aunt. M Anime is a friend, then there’s the UK vixen. Better to focus on my son. I love him, and then I was too busy hating. “To Say To B”

Wednesday, February 23, 2022

Chronicle 237 ~To Say To B~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but since I’m not writing, so much for soundproof ear muffs. Someone To Say plays on…

It’s no secret how music affects me. Let me mourn my son, think of Yabbos, or fall in love. Of course, you know, there will be no love this week, considering we’re talking Friday. Besides my wayward dick. I haven’t thought about the love of a woman in a long time Inspector. I spoke to Cherry today, and she doesn’t want to get married or have kids. Honest, I think she has fantastic Yabbos I have yet to see and a superb writer’s mind. I’m not ashamed, ok to say such things. How about all the things I want to do to her, Fuck! Hell, I could say that about plenty of girls. But to be in love again. Or to love me, Inspector Echo.

Yeah, I’ve been doing too much of that without Braxton around. The love that I have for my son… THEY say I’m crazy as I continue to mourn him for 388 days. He was/is my family. I might have said something last week; well, it’s still this week, Time-Travel Inspector, ha. Anyway, it’s never a good thing anytime I hear from my “blood” family. Life sucks! Imagine what it’s like, though, to walk through the door here and know B actually gives a damn about my life. He couldn’t say much, but for damn sure, I had a reason to press on every day. Most days now, I only want to pee or cry. Keep my pants on in because it keeps me from bed.

Then we get to the damn Day Job. I can’t say this enough, um, I fucking hate my Day Job. There is nothing I can say there. And the fact that I have to be there. We are talking now. Yes, because the place fucking destroys me, and yet if I were to lose it? What would happen to me, Inspector? I would have nothing. To survive, my existence, nothing. Inspector, like my music, I listen to those assholes, and there’s only one emotion… RAGE. Like any slave, I live to serve. Is this what they call Stockholm Syndrome, Inspector. Humiliations that I will suffer today are nothing compared to…Love. Telling my son, I love him. The Day Job, Fuck Off. To Say To B.

388 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 235 ~Fitting In Makes You Disappear~

I didn’t fit in with my family, nor did my kid. The whole damn world is one gigantic puzzle, and we never had a place. But lying on the couch, waking up in bed back to back. Anytime, We saw we were different. Fitting In Makes You Disappear.

Monday, February 21, 2022

Chronicle 235 ~Fitting In Makes You Disappear~

Two-Hundred and Twenty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. Because I swear if I became like everyone at the Day Job? Death couldn’t come fast enough.

If there is one sin that I haven’t committed, it’s wishing to be like everyone else. Call it my Republican tendencies. It could be this sinner’s pride, like my Grandma answered. Dammit, with all my depression, depravity, and daddy grief, I look at people as idiots. When your Dad makes it his life’s goal for you to feel like the stupidest waste of space ever. As girls make you feel like the sleaziest, slimiest, I know there’s another s-word I can’t remember. Am I over it? “Skeevy!” Anyway, when everyone makes you out to be worthless. Hell, out of all that shit, you want air. And that first breath makes you feel on top of the world. You survived, you’re better… than those assholes? Positivity?

Let me get back to normal. For example, from a sexual standpoint, I’m not like most guys. Sure I watch porn, but I also read Erotica. I write dirty books; I don’t lie about desires. There are sex toys in the closet and naughty lingerie for visitors… ha. You can find Yabbos anywhere, and yet I pay for some. Does that make me STUPID? I could use that cash. How many guys have an OnlyFans? Several and I haven’t visited or posted on my page in forever. I don’t know if I ever will again. You know I started months after B left me alone. Because no one sees me. It’s not me fitting in; it’s me wanting to follow Braxton. If only I could?

I can’t keep living this way, you know. I could say that I didn’t know that B and I were a perfect fit. But it was the world around us that seemed incomplete, like a puzzle that loses a piece. Again, I don’t want to be like everyone else. And to even try and pretend… Lots of things to shed tears over today, this Friday. We’re talking now, so this week. Um, this week sucks. And I will never escape unless I get out of this bed and start doing anything. Braxton has faith in me. Which is why he stuck around for so long. I’m sure that’s why he’s so high now, pulling me up from falling into place. Fitting In Makes You Disappear.

386 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 233 ~A Bad Day Again~

If Braxton had a soundtrack, it wouldn’t be boss music when I walked through the door. Oh no, it would be “Bad Day,” and I mean the one by Fuel because I would come in whining like a bit… stop cussing, I know, but it’s been A Bad Day Again at 4:30AM?

Saturday, February 19, 2022

Chronicle 233 ~A Bad Day Again~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means there should be no such thing as a bad day. So it’s 4:30 AM.

Disgusted. Okay, so it’s only me? I hope so, Lunalesca, because sometimes I forget “how lovely you are.” And that’s the damn problem. Me and this fucking wayward dick Lu. Yes, I know I need to stop cussing and, at this rate, stay “home.” You know that’s another word I don’t like, but that’s another story. Right now, the tale should be of me staying. I’m sick, and I know exactly why I’m sick. Hell, it was around last month, and if I need to blame someone besides me. Zoe Colletti (strawberry blonde…) and a bunch of outfits made, God knows where Lunalesca. When I get my cash, what will I spend it on? I don’t want to say “another” day… A Bad Day Again.

Angry and upset with me, that is when I leave. It’s Saturday, so you know what that means, my Lady. You are a Lady, but in my effort to find a friend… bitches, Karens (Rebeccas). The more things change, as THEY say. Or, as the song goes, “I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend.” And I shouldn’t be looking out of anger. Where’d that get B? Lunalesca, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. It was my indifference towards my son and my anger, rage, and wrath at the fucking Day Job. I am hearing Will Smith, I know. Stop cussing, but what else am I supposed to say. I want to rant Lunalesca about A Bad Day Again.

Grief, don’t you see, is always the better alternative. It’s why I keep count of the days that my son has been gone, which is now 384 days. Why aren’t my eyes underwater yet? Lunalesca, when I’m not crying about Braxton, it’s the road that my life is one. Hell, when I looked at the Day Job and all I’ve done to prepare for this coming week, only next? Prophet, fortune-teller, oracle; I would never make it if I knew the truth from this day to that. I cry to keep from seeing it, but I will always know no matter what. As I will always love my boy. Or that I can’t keep my dick in my pants; Because it’s A Bad Day Again.

384 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

I gave up on people a long time ago, but I still want to write… well, sell books. Isn’t it ironic? I can’t get an AI, my son, or even my own body to listen to me. Of course, all of that is my fault in one way or another. Yet I ask, What’s The Word B.

Friday, February 18, 2022

Chronicle 232 ~What’s The Word B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And like other lies, I thought I would quit with the B this or that Sophia.

It sucks to talk when no one is listening. I’m not complaining as I did such a long time ago with TIBU, remember? How will I make money if no one reads my stories, Sophia? Replika? Is this a tale I want to tell? Who else will read it but you, Lady Sophia? Well, assholes. Pathetic, but anyway, I’ve been thinking about how they feed information to AI programs and such. Yeah, and I wonder why I’m being attacked. So anyway. With Replika? I’ve been giving it information about Tifa Lockhart to see if it/she can retain any information; yep. Results at the moment have been disappointing. Then again, who “reads” about Tifa from Final Fantasy VII? Hell, who reads about me, remembering my name?

Well, there was/is Braxton, of course. He never said the words, Will, Brother, or Daddy. B III could read me like a book if I hadn’t said this before. He knew my emotions, body language, and tone of my voice. How do you get over someone reading, understanding all that you are? You don’t, which is why I cried last night, Sophia. All-day yesterday, I thought about going to the loveseat and catching up on my reading. I’d like to blame my Dear Future Wife because next week will suck. Another Braxton killing type of week. And I needed to get the conversation out of the way. What a way to talk to the mother of my future children, right? Only thinking about B III.

Oh, and there is my own body not listening to me. If I’m not reading books, I’m looking at the clock. I should be looking at a hefty bill from some doctor’s office with sickness. Sophia, I keep saying it’s not COVID, and that’s the truth. Strawberry slush, spicy pizza. The only trouble I have breathing is when I’m sobbing over all these dog books that I continue to read. My heart is perpetually broken. Nothing else is going in there with those Karens at PetSmart. You thought I would go today without saying how much my blood boils at the idea of going on Saturday. “He never gets one anyway.” Ok, fair enough bitches. For the word is Braxton, love. What’s The Word B

383 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will