Tag: Will Bradford Jr

Saga 207 ~ Virgil’s Holiday From B~

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E-Day. That’s the second worse day of existence. Um, Thanksgiving. But nowhere near as big when Braxton was here. And possibly New Year’s. But next week this day is a holiday. A memorial. Only I’m not alone, but I want to be. Virgil’s Holiday From B.

Tuesday, January 24, 2023

Saga 207 ~ Virgil’s Holiday From B~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But as the song goes, “money can’t buy me love.” Free me from Hate? Horniness? Happiness?

Um, it got my B a trip to Heaven or wherever. It’s this time next week I’ll Hate the most. A permanent vacation. A holiday away from me. And I’m sure you can relate, love. Reason number whatever we’re talking about today, Monday, January 23, 2023. It feels like I’m working the old Day Job all over again. Tomorrow I rather not be bothered. Next week? I don’t hate my family, ever. It’s not Virgil either though he’s becoming a brat. As I said so many times, it’s not veterinarians, old age, or even the disease that took my boy. “I choose me, and I know that’s selfish love.” Yes, more music. You know, I still need to pick a song on Spotify. Twenty-Four days.

But there are some things you can’t get away from, you know. Another song, love? Fucking Enrique Iglesias “You can run, you can hide, but you can’t escape my love.” Loving someone never takes a holiday but liking them… Whatever and I going to do with Virgil? I’m ashamed that this time has crept up on me and when next week rolls around, love… When was the last time I cried for Braxton? These might be my first tears for today. Come the 31st; I want to eat barbeque and watch dog movies. Even Spontaneous, sadly. Hell! I did read “A Dog’s Journey.” So I could watch the film now. (Cringes). Uncomfortably? I remember the book, that was all kinds of… Who cares; Braxton’s dead.

Always the worse pain imaginable. There’s no escape, and no, I can’t give it a rest. But I know you would never say that. And crazy? Well, knowing V ain’t B. I’ve been reading up on animal communicators. I could try and find one and see what happens. I could see where Virgil stands vet-wise. When I went to Braxton’s Aunt’s wedding, I boarded B III for a few days. It couldn’t hurt to send Virgil away for two days to honor my son. Would that be honoring Braxton? And what about our family? I’m not going out for smokes. The 31st of all days. When I’ll be the most alone. I want to be. Anywhere but being loved and happy. Virgil’s Holiday From B

723 Days Without B III, Day 164 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

I Think Maple Street’s Bugged (Book Review)

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When I usually think of maggots… well, whenever. I think of the dead. And this book, The Maggot on Maple Street, has that too. Well, a death wish, and yet words coming alive as well. Flesh, finding oneself, and fuckery. I Think Maple Street’s Bugged.

If you don’t read anything else, with the way things are going in the world today… Remember, The Maggot on Maple Street for your bug-out bag. It will remind you that there was once intelligent life on this planet. One of the many things Courtenay Schembri Gray is trying to convey. Well, that’s amongst many. And did I say many other things going on in her head? Brains! Indeed if the zombies haven’t gotten to you yet, you still have. That is if you’re reading Courtenay’s book; Ms. Gray, if you’re nasty… indeed, some elements of this work. You’re warned.

Long story short, or compilation, which it is. It’s a collection of poetry from a quite profound young writer. Not to sound cliché. But each and every poem really makes you think. That’s both a good and a bad thing. But more on that in a moment. Such a mind. Courtenay’s talent is immeasurable for such a small work. But if there were more to it. And yes, I have read other titles of hers. Such as Cherry. I suppose she can’t give it away all at once. Such experiences and realizations. Which should drive us all while. You’ll see.

That is if you’re lucky enough to read this work. I imagine “read” would be much too small a word for it, like something out of the movie “The Menu.” When it comes to writing… You do not only read her poetry. You imagine, dream, you relish every single word. Again there is far more to it than that, and again if you will give me the time. I ask you to share some of your time with The Maggot on Maple Street. Hell! The title alone asks for that and far more of us. I have discovered that myself.

It’s not as if Courtenay is asking you to take this journey alone, as she, too, is on a path of discovery of her own. To be on the same road. And yet we all end up in different places. Or maybe we like where we are and choose to stay, as The Maggot on Maple Street will remain with me for quite some time. There’s indeed so much to keep in mind while reading it. The same can be said for her, which is why she chose to share her thoughts with the world. The Maggot on Maple Street

If you have stuck with me until now… no spoilers. These are only my own personal opinions. Yes! Other than this. What are you waiting for? Go buy this book today. Yesterday, if you have a time machine. My own idea. Courtenay takes me to some strange places in musings.

The two poems that garnered my full attention from the get-go were “Mother Cauldron” and “Saturn (De)vours.” There was a line that immediately gripped me in “Mother Cauldron.” And again, the mere titles of these works will give you pause. And then it’s as if you’re running through the words, and you do catch them. Only you don’t know if you’re winning or losing. Or if the writer herself is in her thoughts of how she sees, well herself. This is the same way you see “Saturn (De)vours.” And maybe that’s it. Those two poems were when I first started seeing the writer. And not only the feelings and emotions she was invoking. Now is this a good or bad thing? I don’t rightly know. Yet as for me. I indeed liked seeing the writer and not only the dream that she has shared now. But the mix in everything…

In every other work of Courtenay’s, you’re looking to recapture that moment of her looking at herself in the mirror. This is where Courtenay truly shines, to be quite honest. Having kept up with her other work. It’s the difference between working on herself and “working for the man every night and day.” The fact that most of her work falls into the former is pretty brilliant. Finding those truths that she has discovered about herself. You can only wonder if she, too, stopped. Like you will find yourself doing as you read through her poems and go, “WHOA!” I can’t say how many times I did that myself. Sometimes you may even need to close the book and let the ideas settle in your mind. Just for a bit. One of the reasons it took me a bit to go through such a small book. It’s that damn good.

It’s that damn good, and other things you will say about The Maggot on Maple Street. What, is the title too long? And if I tried quoting Courtenay herself, I think we would be here all day. And I could be reading her book again and again. Um, I guess?

And that brings us to the good, the bad, and the ugly. Well, not really, as I gave this five stars but then again… I’m pretty picky when it comes to books. So I wouldn’t exactly call myself a softie. Not when it comes to this kind of work, ha-ha.

As I’ve already said, the best part of her work is when she’s more or less talking to herself than it seems to an audience. You can tell every poem is like that, but you can see the difference in the wording. It may just be beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that to be sure. Which is something that Courtenay herself is trying to see. Everything can’t be beautiful, and every poem of hers… As a collective, you see the best. But here and there. Sit at your typewriter, keyboard, pen, and paper; what have you and bleed, right? Courtenay does plenty of that and more. It may even scare you in places. Or invoke other emotions and the thoughts of other bodily fluids. And the experience or lack thereof that this writer may have in her own life. Coming to such things, um, maybe.

And again, I say experience. I’m not exactly a genius or anything but with Courtenay. Besides looking up her other works, may I suggest you invest in a dictionary and thesaurus? Am I being overdramatic… in a way? But as any guy can tell you, you’ll be on cloud nine and focused at the same time, and then suddenly, it’s like, huh, after a moment. Keep in mind; that this is poetry and not prose. So there is no warning between particular states of thinking or being. But I can promise you’ll stick around for the whole ride. Courtenay’s poetry can be a bit of a mindfuck for the best and worse. There’s no question about that. Is there a better word than that? Well, I lack this author’s vision. I have read her entire work and enjoyed, studied, and liked it. Something or other…

It is worth the read, though. And for everyone telling me to tell my friends. I can honestly say, at the very least, I have shared the name Courtenay Schembri Gray with some I know. And I’ve said what I’ve said to you and everyone. I Think Maple Street’s Bugged.

Saga 206 ~I Don’t Know Isn’t Stupidity~

WillLeave a comment

I ask authors, “things.” Or at least I read their books. The last one I talked to, I asked to see her yabbos. As far as asking anyone else anything… There’s B, but he never had answers. Comfort was enough. But speaking? “I Don’t Know Isn’t Stupidity”

Monday, January 23, 2023

Saga 206 ~I Don’t Know Isn’t Stupidity~

Two-Hundred and Seventy-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… which means stupidity, lies, and damn “white supremacy” (in some cases). It’s damn near a language, Madam.

But as the song goes, “first let me explain that I’m just a black man.” And while I could go all into racism as people like Ron DeSantis will keep it prevalent. Fuck you, DeSantis! Madam, for now, let’s focus on me. Oh, what? Not on my dead kid? Every day we take a step closer to Braxton’s second anniversary. That’s the wrong word, isn’t it, Madam? His Memorial Day? Aren’t I full of questions today? Now that I’m awake… in a better state of mind. But we’ll get to that in a bit. First, there’s B III. If only he were still alive. Madam, I don’t know how I’m going to do this. Pretty ironic, huh? The one I turned to never had answers.

Again, at least Braxton was/is real. And I would have never given in this morning. Madam, you can relax. As I said, I’m up now. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed. Hairy butt? Virgil ticked me off last night. He’s becoming a brat with his outside time. Time-out? Last night he had to stay in Braxton’s room. So I didn’t bother thinking about behavior. Madam, I had mine to consider. My “Obsession” to go with another song. Fucking fuck. In case you were wondering where I was from, four in the morning, a half-hour. Cumming? I’m thankful that I didn’t. But there was Twitter, Tifa Lockhart’s tits, thumping over an English beauty, etc. How will I ever get over this? Boards don’t hit back. And some Triple D Yabbos?

It was either those or falling back asleep. The Million-dollar question. How do I exist? Every morning when I wake up… that’s Sugar Ray, by the way. Anyway, I look at the time. I was up at four again and settled down by 4:30. By five, I had an energy drink and had been watching The Last of Us reactions. On and off besides talking to you. And still, I wonder. Why don’t I have a billion dollars yet? You saw what it took to do banking and shopping. This week won’t be good, but with 100% truth, next week will be the worse since Sunday, January 31, 2021. Then 2022. Now a bratty friend in 2023. With no one to ask, I remain stupid. I Don’t Know Isn’t Stupidity

722 Days Without B III, Day 163 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 205 ~Virgil Dreams, Braxton’s Nightmare~

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Don’t look up where I was on this day in 2021… Um, too Late! I was looking at boobs… for a book review, thank you. It’s the reason I got up on time today. Or was it the nightmare of my father? Dreams of my fur-kids? Virgil Dreams, Braxton’s Nightmare

Sunday, January 22, 2023

Saga 205 ~Virgil Dreams, Braxton’s Nightmare~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now. And while I wish you were me… uh, no. I pray you aren’t as forgetful or lazy…

Let’s address the elephant in the room. No! It’s better if it’s B III. He’s so much bigger in your mind right now. Friday, January 20, 2023. A day that will live in infamy. Fuck! Well, I forgot a quote for him. I swore yesterday I had finished saying that I would never “Accept” him being gone. And on a day when I felt so productive to a certain degree. Productivity means making it to the dining room table to write. I forgot B’s words. Much too busy thinking about an English woman’s chest but don’t start that today, please. Hell! How do you think you were up on time this morning? 15 minutes masturbating. Virgil was “displeased” being kicked out. Now Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING The Grief Recovery Handbook for Pet Loss by Russell Friedman
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums (Soon)
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 016 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 022 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

At least he’s not in trouble. He can come back at any time. Braxton’s door and the bedroom are wide open. Of course, he won’t, which is the only thing B has over 2V. Other than that, Virgil is living the dream. Did I mention you being productive today? You have to get up off your ass and go out for more than pepper dogs and some onion rings. B suffered that too. When he passed, I chose rings over fries. Waffles over pancakes. And what about all the chocolate? I didn’t allow it, never ever here. Loving Braxton Barks. Now Virgil Vivi enjoys bottled water because there’s no trusting the tap. He gets a new type of food etc. But hand-me-down Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Grieving the Loss of a Fur Baby by Becky Connellan
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums (Soon)
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 022 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Talk about nightmares. You had to look up one of our conversations. Braxton’s last week, Gospel 207 ~Hell With Instructions Will~. From January 21, 2021. Jesus, the man I was. Only as the song goes, “What have I become? My sweetest friend?” What about you? Dreams from last night… nightmares would be more accurate. My father was there. And he, above all else, says that before this week has even begun… Hell! Weren’t you on YouTube and Twitter a moment ago? Well, at least it wasn’t porn. Indeed, Black History. Fuck You Ron DeSantis! Anyway, dreaming of your father says one thing about you and Virgil. He’s living, but you’re not loving. Would one rather live or know love? Indifference Kills! Virgil Dreams, Braxton’s Nightmare

721 Days Without B III, Day 162 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 204 ~Spelling Virgil Without B~

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I don’t say I live… I exist. Nothing’s mine, and what was or is my son, the Indifference that killed him, owning it. What about V? I spend days pushing him to go up the stairs, to the door, etc. Being a “Dad,” dog training. Spelling Virgil Without B.

Saturday, January 21, 2023

Saga 204 ~Spelling Virgil Without B~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I didn’t have to be the most intelligent man on the planet to accomplish this.

Being full of hate, joining a cult, and having no morals would get the job done. Which, of course, doesn’t explain why I’m sitting here at nine in the morning in bed. Or 99.9% of the GOP/GQP who would instead stay poor and racist above all else, Lady Lunalesca. Though if I could have my B III back, I wouldn’t need a billion. Did I say that out loud? Again if you’re wondering why I’m speaking to you so late, Lady Lunalesca… I couldn’t give up porn. Oh, I’m still dry, but it’s getting crazy. I heard anger is more useful than despair. So I suppose horny at least gets you up, or something up. Can I say I’m still in the Depression stage, Lunalesca?

Because it will never be Acceptance. Speaking of 99.9%, I’m sure that Virgil ain’t Braxton. It could be because it’s January. But yes, I have been tougher on Virgil these days. There’s some version of dog training afoot. Virgil has no courage. How about practicing what I preach, Lady Luna? Putting one foot in front of the other? Nope! He does what he has to. After that, he returns to his bed/pillow and stays there scared indefinitely. Giving him attention? Is that the lesson I should be learning? Fighting Indifference? I keep saying it, Lunalesca. It was Indifference that killed Braxton. I don’t own much, but my Braxton and Indifference led to my becoming a murderer. And now, nothing in the world makes any sense.

Or it’s only me. And you wonder why I don’t want to get up off my ass, to go shopping. Hell! I was up on time and immediately said twenty more minutes. Bullshit spam text. Yeah, that’s another twenty minutes. I realized nothing was plugged in. I’ll wait till five. I didn’t want to start complaining to you. So I clear most of my emails until six. Two more hours looking at porn until, thankfully, eight. Braxton’s official medicine time, and Virgil goes outside. He’s been in his room since six. Virgil’s outside, cappuccino, breakfast? From eight-thirty to nine, more porn. That’s been today like the song goes, Mad World. Or sad, lazy, fucked up. Existing over life. Hate vs. Indifference. Spelling Virgil Without B

720 Days Without B III, Day 161 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 202 ~Virgil, Don’t B Mad~

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I’ve raised my voice at Virgil once… ok, twice. What he did on Braxton’s pillow, I tried to wash it and destroyed it. And sniffing Braxton’s bed. But Virgil’s not mad; he’s scared. Physically I’m sick, and my heart remains broken. Virgil, Don’t B Mad

Thursday, January 19, 2023

Saga 202 ~Virgil, Don’t B Mad~

718 Days Without B III, Day 159 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Even if you got food poisoning, you’d consider it your best day ever. But milkshakes…

2V can’t be mad at me today. Besides sharing a ton of fries with him, I’m sure he doesn’t have a stomachache right now. Not throwing up or crapping all over your room B III. About to get all TMI. Well, Jack’s is now one more place I can’t go anymore, considering how I’m feeling. But I can’t check the walking path, either. You remember all the walks you took until you got old and I was lazy. My zombie apocalypse buddy. Braxton, I swear I have plenty of reasons to be mad these days. A stomach bug. Way too many boobs, and missing you, my boy. More than ever. It’s making me a meanie regarding Virgil Vivi. I’m a crappy friend so far, B.

I’m sick and tired. Yes, plenty mad too. But Virgil is scared, if anything. It’s been about five months, and where is he? As I said, Braxton, your room lying on a pillow by himself. At least now I have an excuse. I don’t want him to see me like this, about to blow any minute. And I mean that in more ways than one. So gross, I know. I remember your good days and bad. If I thought of those more, I would focus on something other than your last ones, Braxton. And as far as Virgil is concerned… I suppose that’s one thing you two have in common, Triple B. Every day is your last and his first. And at best, I’m in the middle every given day.

But right now, I don’t know how I feel. Well, physically, I’m hopping out of bed. Fuck that milkshake! Or was it the chicken? The fries were on the chicken, but V’s good. I’m fucked. At least I’m too sick to be Humpin’ Around. So I can’t eat, I can’t hump, I’m just like you. How dare I compare this to your last days. Yet again, you see what I’m doing, don’t you, Little B? Anytime there’s pain, I have to dig into the greatest pain. Hurts Like Hell. As the song goes, “I loved and I loved and I lost you.” But I don’t love Virgil like you. When shall I? Not this month; the next, ever, I don’t know. Virgil, Don’t B Mad

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 201 ~B-V That’s Naming’s Hard~

WillLeave a comment

Long story short, Virgil Vivi. Virgil for a Roman poet who saw Dante through Hell. Vivi, for the black mage in FF IX. Fire magic… and I’m carrying the fire, well him. I can’t write The Road or Harry Potter. What’s my name? “B-V That’s Naming’s Hard.”

Wednesday, January 18, 2023

Saga 201 ~B-V That’s Naming’s Hard~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now… so I’m Elisabeth Badinter (no idea who that is.) How about J.K. Rowling? Nothing against Trans…

Hell! I know a few people named Braxton and even more named Virgil. Their net worth combined wouldn’t equal a billion. Actors, singers, announcers, anime, and the like Echo. But as Robin Williams said, “you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?” Hmm. I’ve never made it a secret. What is it people say, go into a business where you are always needed? It’s books, babes, and bullets. Well, that’s my opinion. But how do those things relate? Intelligent people wouldn’t need ammo. Neither would people getting fucked. But as the song goes, “I am a real American.” Not a Republican. I said a Real American but guns… Only books will be my first love. Well, true love is Braxton. But Cassandra Sarbeck…

Again, somebody, I don’t know, but you do know me, Inspector. So pornography, uh, duh. “Dancing Bear” Lady’s Night Blow Out, to be precise. I swear, being horny or angry. Inspector, this explains why I’m talking to you on a Tuesday night but tomorrow… fuck! The Humiliations Galore awaiting me at the Day Job. Yet it’s today I’m most ashamed of. There’s the fact that when I got an e-mail here, it told me Cassandra Sarbeck was a key term. As much as I want to be known for my pornographic passions. What about my book “Gulp?” I have two more stories for my dead kid, my Braxton. Wouldn’t he be proud of his old man? And I could tell you all about Virgil today.

But no Inspector. How long did it take me to find the blonde’s name in Harem in the Labyrinth of Another World? Her name’s Roxanne, by the way. God bless hentai, right E. There’s Erza Scarlet from Fairy Tail. Selphie Tilmitt, Scarlett Fay. And let’s remember all the Japanese titles I’ve been watching. Thanks so much, Twitter ha. Oh, all my keywords. I’m surprised I know my own name. I feel you, Oh Il-nam. A billionaire screwing people. Anyway, indeed my name is better off not being remembered. I hate people. And my sons… excuse me, my son and Virgil are much better men than I could ever hope to be in this existence. It’s their names and meanings making me B-V That’s Naming’s Hard.

717 Days Without B III, Day 158 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 200 ~Forms of Virgil, B’s…~

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It’s enough to make me hate writing? If it wasn’t signing my name on unpublished books, bills I have to pay, and the memories I created. It’s what Triple B is; a memory… So it’s B’s name, I won’t forget. Only those forms for 2V? Forms of Virgil, B’s…

Tuesday, January 17, 2023

Saga 200 ~Forms of Virgil, B’s…~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can cheat on our taxes every which way, right? And the termite guy?

There is also running a business, even if it’s mine always. Beats the fucking Day Job. There’s my writing which I must love (obviously). But it doesn’t mean it isn’t hard. There’s being a Dad too. Report cards, field trips. The responsibility for our kids’ actions. But always, there will be Braxton. He’s the one that I saw first, loved first. Yeah, I’m not ashamed to write down that I’m a fan of “FLCL.” I’ve been all about anime these days. I’m trying not to think about the last thing I signed for Triple B. Better to have XXX, huh? Because being an adult sucks even with all these blessings. I’m able to afford repairs, inspections, and appointments. Did I have to say that? I’ll never forget Braxton’s last one…

Every day is another step closer to what will be two years, Sunday, January 31, 2021. The doc lucked out. As I’ve said before, not once have I blamed them. No reason. It’s my fault. Wednesday, February 10, 2021… I don’t remember if I signed anything; I think I did. That’s the day I picked up Little Braxton for the last time. Fearing reincarnation, Tupac… Why must I torture myself with this fact? But Saturday, August 13, 2022, there’s Virgil. He’s not Braxton. Every day I believe that more and more, and who knows when it will be set in stone. When I will write it down in all its finality. A form of catharsis, confession, a condition of my surrender to the truth, love.

B is gone. A ghost, a memory, or a Cuddle Clone. Don’t I still need to see the tax guy? Well, we do, right? Let the heart speak, but we had to sign paperwork too. And I never intend to erase it or sign something to the contrary. The Band Perry’s “Better Dig Two.” Hell! You won’t be signing any papers for me yet. I have a son to remember, a wife to love, and a world to put in its place. Big talk for someone cringing at every bill despite being in our position. Lovers, parents, family but payment forms, cash, check, credit? Lover, husband, daddy. Easy signing at the bottom and ignoring the bottom line at rock bottom. Remember, Forms of Virgil, B’s…

716 Days Without B III, Day 157 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 199 ~Find Pains Greater Than Fear~

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Braxton is the word of God. As Christians say, God is Love. God to Dog. Easy mistake. Now FEAR and PAIN… I’ve claimed fear’s a great pain, next to losing B, the greatest. There’s Blue Balls, my “father, stupidity, and the GOP. Find Pains Greater Than Fear

Monday, January 16, 2023

Saga 199 ~Find Pains Greater Than Fear~

Two-Hundred and Seventy-Fifth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now… which means I shouldn’t fear a damn thing. Honestly, there’s always… well, don’t need the cops knocking.

I don’t fear death. I wonder if Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. did. His birthday was yesterday and today’s his day… Hell! I wish I could say I looked into him first thing. Nope! Braxton. After that came porn. Then there was The Last of Us. Finally, Dr. King. He had much to fear. Fear is a great pain; I’m sorry, Grammarly and Hemmingway, for my lack of IQ. STUPIDITY! Next to the pain of my son’s passing/murder… Being Stupid is What Hurts The Most. It’s what leads me to read every single day. Or why I feel so “proud” watching The Last of Us and being all, “I understood that reference.” But nearly every waking moment Madam like the song goes, “I feel stupid!”

And to avoid it, I sleep only to feel worse after, for having to face the day. The time wasted. If you asked me what I wanted to do today, well, besides everything I’ve done since four in the morning. Well, starting with this conversation that we’re having. Fearing existence. There’s wanting to organize everything that’s piling up that I never get done. Lazy Ass! There’s also a book review I want to do… Things that keep me up, Madam. My Braxton, worrying things are breaking down. And some girls’ boobs. If only every book were written by a girl with a set of melons I’ve “almost” seen. But I won’t. But I’m not sleeping.

It’s a pain. But, yes, a fear as well, right?

Blue Balls keep me awake as well. I keep thinking, any minute now. I’m going to explode all over the place. If you saw what broke me from a 161-day streak mourning my B III.

A greater pain is what is about to happen a little less than an hour from now. I swear, dealing with people. At least this time, it isn’t my fault Madam. The pain my father brings. Isn’t it ironic? He is the one that not only brings pain but the very spirit of fear. But B? Braxton made me braver than I could ever know. But a pain far worse than my father could dare to dream. Then again, being brought to this existence? Fear? Find Pains Greater Than Fear.

715 Days Without B III, Day 156 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 198 ~Virgil Piles On B~

WillLeave a comment

Trying my best CJ impression. Ahem, “ah shit, here we go again.” But existing requires multiple uses of the word mother-effer. I can pick up anything else outside or raise it up so V can’t get to it. That’s B’s. But with every step, Virgil Piles On B

Sunday, January 15, 2023

Saga 198 ~Virgil Piles On B~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means while I “watch the money pile up,” so does time. But you? Pile of shit.

Whoa! Now that was harsh. But you were up at 4:05 AM. Need to remember how to set an alarm clock? You’re not in the best of moods now. Only think of Virgil… better, Braxton. One is scared, and the other’s dead. It is so hard to be positive. Again, all the time, huh? Martin Luther King Jr. would be proud, you think. Another reason to wake up early. Instead, let’s focus on you, which means your guilt about Braxton and Virgil today (sigh). The most pressing issue would be that Virgil needs more food. Which means picking your ass up and going to the store. Yet it occurred to me yesterday that getting up is like picking up Virgil’s… or, um, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING The Maggot on Maple Street by Courtenay Schembri Gray
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book (Sometime Soon)
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 009 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 016 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Yeah, we can throw these away. Well, except for the two that I got done, ha-ha. Number four, I keep piling it on. Last night there was Sarah Kerrigan, the Queen of Blades from StarCraft. There’s also Nao Iihara from Resort Boin and Hitomi Kurumizawa in Megane no Megami. If I did as much research on making money as I do with Hentai… Fucking genius! That’s something you should try. You have time during the week, but you won’t ever. Besides picking up Virgil’s… You don’t mean to be so hard on the little guy. Again it’s everything going on with Braxton. I had this thought perhaps that’s what’s wrong with Virgil. Why he’s scared to take a step. Braxton’s everywhere, like Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING The Grief Recovery Handbook for Pet Loss by Russell Friedman
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums (Soon)
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 016 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

He’s on top of Braxton. Every step is where B III once was. The pillow, the bowls, the bed, even you. It’s like walking on a corpse. And who would want to do that? Republicans. Well, if anything, you’re going to spend money like one. No! You’re like a Democrat because you’re not thinking about yourself. Is that my advice for today? Think about Virgil? Braxton is more your speed. You should think about them both if the car’s running. Dammit! One more thing for your to-do list. And I don’t mean some yabbos, either. Money as in taxes. If you get a refund… Only B III died on the 31st; his birthday is February 13th. This fatherhood shit. And Virgil? Virgil Piles On B

714 Days Without B III, Day 155 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will