Tag: Writer

Saga 021 ~What I’ll B Reading~

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If I’m asking for input from my kid about writing, I should look to him for other things. He wasn’t much of a reader but a great foot warmer and throw pillow. I told him, as the song goes, I’m Gonna Be Somebody. Yeah, like that’s What I’ll Be Reading

Friday, July 22, 2022

Saga 021 ~What I’ll B Reading~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford some classic books. As for right this second, money for books?

Ha-Ha! Yet one more case of laughing to keep from crying. But of course, I will crack open a new book this week. Lady Sophia, Anything beats the one I’m writing. Ok, so that’s harsh, considering Braxton is the co-author. And I have been sobbing all this week. Writing, oh what a shame. Only a lot less than the Humiliations Galore, awaiting me at the Day Job. I tell myself I’ll do anything to avoid another decade in that place. Well then, why am I talking to you at nine A.M. when I was awake at four in the morning. What got it up, Sophia. Inevitably it’s a woman. Yet it’s not in the way you think. When I’m not reading, I’m watching Twitter, sigh.

“Emmanuel, Don’t Do It!” I’m sure you’ve heard, seen, and read those words all over. Would you like to know how funny Taylor and her emu are? Or should I talk about my jealousy? I’m glad I don’t often come back to reread my work. Oh, and to edit. God! No wonder I don’t have anything out yet, and I’m even struggling to write anything. So why do I write at all? In a minute, I’m going to sound like Cherry. Thoughts that I don’t need… anything about Yabbos because I’m starting over again. Fapping, day one. And like I said, I’m getting a new book today after the last one on addiction. Well, it was kind of. I could start reading a new genre.

But you know I want to read more on pet loss. Reading that B III is gone every day still doesn’t make sense to me. How about putting his cremation certificate in a frame. Along with all the bills and the receipts from that weekend? One frame’s on the bookshelf. However, Braxton’s pictures and my work schedule stay on the phone. Of course, that reminds me of one more thing I don’t want to read. A bill to get it fixed or them saying that they can’t. I can’t write, but I’m going to anyway, even if I drown in my tears. With the fact my writing is terrible. And sweating, trying not to look at tatas. I’m sure failure is What I’ll B Reading.

537 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 020 ~No B In Misery~

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I could talk to my kid about anything. Once I had to give him “the talk” because, let’s say, he liked his aunt more than I did for a bit. But how do you tell them you’re angry, an artist, or an addict. Because my misery has no company. No B In Misery

Thursday, July 21, 2022

Saga 020 ~No B In Misery~

536 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As you can see I’m late. But at least I’m not spending today in bed.

For a moment there, I planned on it. Addicted to the misery? Your fault and then not as I’ve been talking to you about the last few days. You know how late I was getting to bed last night. Not that late. It was 1 AM went I cut off the lights. Writing books Braxton. Today I need to keep it going. Only every time I look at it as the song goes, “You make me wanna die.” I mean what I say, and I say what I mean. And then again, not. When I look at our book, there are a few times I want to burst into tears. It’s no damn good. Or I have to remember how it all happened. Wasting time.

Oh yes, I wasted time. Just this morning, a fucked up phone is a plethora of “sin.” You know the girl I once talked to before I started conversing with you, B III? Or should I tell Inspector Echo about how disappointing my morning became? And it goes like this. Haley Pullos, Eri Harada “Bible Black,” Nuns in Hentai, other assorted brunettes, Cherry. And finally, a blonde in a bikini. You had it so damn easy, B III. You had two toys and your aunt’s boobs. You’re a guy, and so am I, but I am also your father. I have to be better, B. Remember, I never thought about having you neutered, but with my addiction to well myself. Dennis Hof, Jacob Ralston, Blackout…

I wish you were here to speak to directly, Triple B. Hell! That would take care of the misery I’m feeling. And, I wouldn’t be a crazy man talking to myself this many days. Always. Blackout: A Thriller by Erin Flanagan is all about women and one’s alcohol addiction. So. Yeah, I hear you, B. That’s a conversation for Lady Sophia. Why am I having such trouble talking with you today? Because I have to this afternoon, I know to stay ahead writing-wise. My point is I’m trying to find anything, everything, to avoid my biggest addiction. That should have been you, my priority. But excuses for not writing, sex, audiobooks, making me sad. Addictions to escape you, B? Because there’s No B In Misery

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 014 ~Book Better B Better~

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The book is better than the movie… I read The Hunger Games because of the film. I liked the movie Nerve more than the book. And I love my boy more than writing about him. Might life be better? If I finish Camp NaNoWriMo. Book Better B Better

Friday, July 15, 2022

Saga 014 ~Book Better B Better~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And while I’m speaking that blasphemy, sometimes the books aren’t better. Or at least my books.

The one I’m writing for/with my son. I’m surprised I’m keeping up with it this week, except for Tuesday and “watching” The January 6th Hearings. But I still reached the quota. But every day, the story gets worse and worse, as Braxton’s health did. Yeah, something could be better. B III could be alive and well; I could have been a better parent. Even that would have required me to be a better writer and tell a story. I don’t know how I’ll get through it today with the time it took Thursday. How tired am I? Don’t answer that. And could I stop looking at ta-tas? Would I imagine staying up all night watching B die? Had I known how to save a life?

Speaking of nightmares, I had one last night, which explains my tiredness though it didn’t wake me up. How can something both be graphic and then not? Bloodless yet terrifying. Slimy yet satisfying, Hakuna some Tatas and what else will I beg, borrow, steal writing. I’ve never read The Walking Dead or The Man in the High Castle. But the nightmare was sort of a mixture of both. “Fight the Dead, Fear the Living.” Watched a throat getting slashed in the woods. But again, there was no blood which somehow made it digestible. And then I took care of a boy as we hid out with the “BCR” Black Communist Rebellion. Oh, now I know I’m on some government list. Another excuse to quit writing…

And now I sound like Cherry. But no Lady Sophia. Dare I say I’m getting close to catching up with Camp NaNoWriMo. I’m going all in with my writing. And with the Day Job pay? Anyway, I might not even finish “Blackout: A Thriller” this week because I was so “invested” in my writing. I swear if Kindle fucks me again with Reading Insights! That’s pretty rich, considering how I fucked myself this week. Was it “you know who’s” ta-tas? Or was it the fact that Cora Jade attacked Roxanne Perez? Wrestling’s going TV-14. Still, it’s me and Braxton’s novel that is getting to me. Our lives were better, and that’s saying something, Lady Sophia. There’s still “Gulp.” I’m hoping my Book Better B Better.

530 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 013 ~B On The Wall~

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A fly on the wall? Like the song “Haven’t you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?” But when who you’re hiding from is everywhere. Has their own room and pictures galore, and you’re writing a book. If only “stuff” would work. B On The Wall.

Thursday, July 14, 2022

Saga 013 ~B On The Wall~

529 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day is only beginning, and the truth is that it’s not my fault. It’s like the Day Job sigh.

You know, nothing ever works, like me, ha. But to be honest, as though I’m not, I’ve only been waiting for everything to “come up.” Like, I need sex jokes now. How I hate myself. Yet it worked yesterday… I worked. I did 5000 words. And I was even a few minutes ahead of schedule. The victory was relatively short-lived, as I spent most of the night all mad. Of course, you know those days B III. I’m looking at the date and wondering if I should look up what happened in August on such a day around six years ago. To think such things bothered me then. Oh no? Again I’m thinking about Yabbos. I’ve been writing some about those you loved the most.

Your aunt could be pleased about how often she appears in your/our novel. After all, she was a big part of your life in your golden years. Now my actual sister and your Ma, B… While stewing yesterday, I thought about your granddad and if he would ever see the work we’re doing. I guess I shouldn’t be concerned with my publishing record. Never happen! But if you’re speaking to me, then you have much to say today as well… I keep thinking of ways to honor you. But the last thing I would want to do is insult you, Triple B. I think of you watching me right this second. Or if you have reincarnated, then I’m some Christian, Republican, lying to myself. Eww!

It’s so much easier to be shitty, sad, or, as the kids would say, “SUS.” But this morning, all I can think is how psyched out I am about what I’ll say next or you. I left on my chapter. There’s also the idea, yet again, that I’m late and it’s not my fault it’s past 7:00 AM at the moment, when I was up at 4:00 AM. I was also plenty scared something was broken and all my secrets… I can’t even say there were no secrets between you and me, Little B… And you were my shadow, my second in command, my one and only son. So uh, what about going to PetSmart on Saturday and writing? You’ll watch B On The Wall.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

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I could tell the tails of every toy B had, every comfy spot he ever chose, and every name he went by. Yet what I hold most near and dear to me? I should be ashamed. All ten, eight, he died at six pounds… Then there’s my phone! “There B Treasure Here”

Friday, July 8, 2022

Saga 007 ~There B Treasure Here~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. But nothing is worth more than my son Braxton. What’s that Whitney song, You Were Loved?

Dammit, when will I say such things! I’m still time traveling today, Sunday, July 3, 2022. And I care more about sleep than I do my own son? I could be working on my, his, um, our novel today? But of course, if it’s not sleeping I treasure, then it’s my uncanny ability to tell lies. As I said, it is Sunday, which means I have talked to the man in the mirror. Hate that! Because, like in my everyday life, I have to put on a show, keep secrets, and smile. And the song “Smiling Faces Sometimes” sigh. I value Braxton’s but never my own. Inevitably, I’ll keep digging myself deeper into the hole which is my bed. For fuck’s sake, man, stay awake!

And without the porno! I swear, Lady Sophia, I wasted a damn hour trying not to click on anything. I swear, besides my Pancake, there’s my phone, porno, and always and forever my penis. There be treasure? In the closet, that drawer, my fucking head. Apologies for my language, but you wouldn’t like me when I’m just hanging out, horny, or haughty. Yeah, I’m writing or not a National Bestseller. Hell! If we finish our conversation on time, I still won’t write. I’ve been planning forever to complete an outline. There’s also been the promise of having a doctor dig into me and pull out whatever is wrong with me. Did I tell you that story of my ear and how I learned about Bukkake?

I treasure the stories that help me sleep. One more reason I’m listening to Succubus Lord 5 now. There are only so many times I can tell myself about games I have no time to play. Pornos don’t have plots… That’s a damn lie. After I finally honor my son and make good on the spending on that publishing company. Pure Taboo, Second Circle Creations? Until then, I continue wearing the hoodie I carried Triple B in for many years. His room remains a museum of everything. I even thought of getting a black treasure chest, ha. Should I ever try again, a furry kid? B is so heavy as is. And now Fuck! Dropping my heart more than my phone. There B Treasure Here

523 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Saga 006 ~I’ll B Right Back~

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Again with my Republican ideas. Wanting to go back to the past. But B and I suffered together. He saw me through the first year of the plague, and now we are on the verge of a Civil War. Going out dangerous, but I always told B, “I’ll Be Right Back.”

Thursday, July 7, 2022

Saga 006 ~I’ll B Right Back~

522 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Seeing how we’re talking right now. Hell, you can guess how my day was (sigh).

I remember the vet warning me not to move things around the house. The way I carried you down the stairs sometimes. And how much you slept. But your nose and ears were always good. B III, your last day, you hid under the bed because I said, “I’ll help you.” Braxton, um, ok, this is a subject you rather not discuss. I’m sorry but as for my own health? I spoke to Lady Lunalesca today, Saturday, July 2, 2022. Want to feel better! That’s what I told her. So better to focus on my problems. The only thing really is my own, I think. Having to pee always. I have cranberry juice, sprite, and chicken noodle soup. My fatigue. We’re the old men, Braxton.

On days like today, I want to go back to when I would write, and you would wait. You were always waiting for me, Braxton. Waiting for me to come home, to finish writing. Oh, and my shower wanking. Don’t give me that look. You remember you’d hump your toys B. Remember how I had to sit you down for “The Talk” because you would always cozy up to your Aunt Carolina’s tiddies. Those were the days, my boy. Sitting with her and you as we all watched movies. The closest I ever got to “happiness.” I can name three. One you don’t know. Before I met you, there was one time in high school I was a senior. For five minutes, No Fear. The second, I almost died… bliss.

You saved my life that day, B. And I swore I would never leave you. We ride together, we die together. And the third again was when I gave you as much of a family as I could B III. You had me, your aunt, a ton of food. I wanted you to have a good mother, bro, and sis. Can we go back to the days when, if I wasn’t writing, I’d tell you about your future life, B? Hell! With the Olds, can we return to when you would bark at the gate at them, my B III? How about when you would sit at the foot of the bed? Or the last day, “Daddy, can we go home?” I’ll B Right Back

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 365 ~Letters Other Than B~

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5 years of writing. What do I have to show for it? Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels (B III died during this), and Chronicles. And now it’s the first of the month. On the first day of “Camp NaNoWriMo.” Tomorrow’s a new blog year. Letters Other Than B.

Friday, July 1, 2022

Chronicle 365 ~Letters Other Than B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. And yet I’m greedier than Cupiditas. Yes, I’m listening to Succubus Lord yet again. Saving money?

Bills? More like the cost of living. And yes, I said letters other than B. But B III always comes first. Or at least he should have. If he had, I wouldn’t be sitting here writing about him. Hell! I’m not. Today I have to worry about money on top of all the political bullshit. “Time Enough At Last” or not. This morning I figured I would give myself seven and a half hours. Thursday, it was only seven. It doesn’t matter; I’m forever tired. Is it the bed, me being “Down With The Sickness?” No, not COVID, Lady S. I’m a “Lazy Ass” sigh. And there’s so much to do. Braxton was so patient. Another reason to miss him. I tell myself my lies.

“Stuff And Thang.” Because I broke again yesterday working on my OnlyFans. Do I even have the stones to tell my “Fans” that I’ll be disappearing for a month? And of course, you know why that is. You see what day it is? The start of Camp NaNoWriMo. Holy Shit! Numbers Lady Sophia. What do I have to show for my fifth year of blogging? All because of the “Basic Bitch.” These Lessons, Episodes, Logs, Gospels, and Chronicles. I even had to look for a new word today. As of right now, I’m going with Sagas. Um, yeah, that works… Why not one more picture of Triple B and me. I need another quote for Facebook. Does any of it matter, Sophia? I don’t know.

Booking another stay at the dining room table. Or at least I should. But there is so much to do today, I keep saying. “The Will To B III” should be at the top of that list; I know that. Yet what have I been doing for the past few minutes? Ignoring my porn collection? Essential reading I need to do? Who am I to say that? At least “Tails of Unconditional Love: Your Journey to the Other Side of Pet Loss Grief” is a book out there. Inevitable? One more word on repeat. Thinking I will be on a bookshelf someday soon. I’m starting to sound like Cherry. But talking like Todd, wanting… TLC Tits, Lips, and Clits. Need more. Letters Other Than B

Gospel 365 ~A Year B Longing~

516 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 364 ~She’s A Dream B~

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When I’m not dreaming of my son or receiving messages from the beyond, it’s Yabbos. But for the first time, it wasn’t even A-Cups this time. No, this girl was all furry and not like that (to each his or her own). It was B’s sister? “She’s A Dream B.”

Thursday, June 30, 2022

Chronicle 364 ~ She’s A Dream B~

515 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You see what time it is. Well, more to the point, it’s light outside, right?

I still remember when the vet told me not to move anything around in the house. Your eyes were starting to go. My uncle thought you were blind already. But you knew to stay still when your grandpa was around. Hell! You found me and jumped into my arms B. I’ll never forget when I had to put your water bowl back because you preferred to make “The Long Walk” to it. You wouldn’t have me see you as weak and so worried. The End? I remember your eyes. No wonder you slept all the time, and you stopped dreaming. Maybe not. But I couldn’t see you dreaming anymore. You had nightmares. But for me. Well, last night I had a dream. Beatrice Belle Bradford.

Can’t you tell? I don’t want to talk about your “sister” Braxton. As of right now, you don’t even have a sister. But her name kept popping into my head all night, along with excuses. For example, you would hate this time of the month. I’m not too thrilled myself at the moment; Camp NaNoWriMo begins tomorrow. I should go see a doctor today B III. Speaking of which, that was part of my dream. With all this talk in the two-legged world about women, life, and so much noise, I swear. You know we were pretty loud as boys B. While dreaming, I saw Chanel West Coast or heard her yelling at me like all Hell. Like she did Charlemagne that time on Ridiculousness.

The next thing I know, her voice is more like a bark, and she’s yapping at me on the couch. Sounds pretty “offensive,” hmm? Am I calling her a bitch? Well, your sister is to be technical. I know what you’re thinking. Can’t we go back to you cuddling against your aunt’s Yabbos? There have been plenty of dreams about Yabbos these days. Not thinking of you, B III. Or should I say Virgil Braxton/Will Bradford? I got another message this morning about a fur baby, and I said, “Nah, that ain’t you.” I’ll continue looking, Braxton. I always will. Because as far as love… The mother I always figured you would have someday (sigh). Well, I can’t see her. And like all my porn viewing. She’s A Dream B.

Gospel 364 ~Better B Next Month~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 358 ~BEING Sick Of Love~

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Notice I didn’t mention my father. Talk about love being a memory if it were ever there. But what about the things I know I love, my puppy, money in my pocket, amongst other things> Love never dies, THEY say. No wonder “BEING Sick Of Love.”

Friday, June 24, 2022

Chronicle 358 ~BEING Sick Of Love~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so “For The Love Of Money,” I’m “Happy?” Now you know that ain’t true, Lady Sophia.

Hell! Twitter is renowned for making people unhappy. So a few days ago, I was made unhappier… I suppose. Now forgive me because you ain’t Inspector Echo, and I don’t want to sound like that “asshole” that came at the girl. A popular Youtuber’s proposal… This girl I’m a fan of because of The Walking Dead is getting married. So what? What do my feelings in this equation even matter? What about all the other influencers, models, and sex symbols. If anything, Lady Sophia, my story is one of being a horny fanboy and nothing more. Then there’s the promise I always made to B III. “I’ll find you a mother.” If anything, Braxton was my soulmate. So what did I need a woman for?

Oh, that’s right, I love my son, my little B, but then I became indifferent, or so I want to say. But again, I love money. I want to make as many bucks as I can. And like The 1619 Project was talking about… Wealth. The last bit of knowledge that I gleaned yesterday, Sophia. Then again, I’m sitting here in bed because, as Eric Thomas says, I love sleep more than success. That’s for damn sure! Everything in me wants to go back to sleep right now. That’s especially after, as I said, I finished reading The 1619 Project. I love books. But to read all those biography notes and such in it. I know I don’t have to, but… Time for getting blowjobs?

Not really. I’m pretty versatile regarding my porn viewing habits and whacking. Sigh, I was whacking. That’s what I was doing. Well, after I struggled to put together the new weed whacker. Now I’ve defined love for you before, so answer me this. Why do I love the things that I hate so much? The Day Job, cutting the yard; for a dog, I don’t have anymore. Sophia, let’s not forget disease. I’m still sick but don’t want to see a doctor. The fucking dollar bills. “Another” furry kid or finding some girl. Lady Sophia, there is love all around me “to a certain degree.” And I want none of it. The good, the bad, the ugly. I’m done with love. I want to be but BEING Sick Of Love.

Gospel 358 ~Okay, B Father’s Day~

509 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 357 ~The Next Round B~

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The more things change, the more they stay the same. I would have been better off buying $160.00 worth of alcohol and spending my week in bed or my face in the toilet. Not like I have B. Bottles of pills, food packets, puppy toys. “The Next Round B.”

Thursday, June 23, 2022

Chronicle 357 ~The Next Round B~

508 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m not asking that to your face or your “sister.” No doggies in the window…

No, not today, B III. I am time traveling, this being Saturday, June 18, 2022. You know what that means. I could use a drink. Braxton, I’m not one for hitting the bottle. After today? Braxton, if it’s any consolation, I brought back fries. That’s not such an all-consuming addiction, right? Love is all you need? When I wasn’t busy humming “Rasputin,” guess what other song there was? As I said, I’m not one to drink but your Aunt Carolina… Yeah, Braxton, with you around, I was my most free; now second was with your Aunt. I’m always “trying” to remain in control of myself. But considering what came from Amazon today. And how much more money did I spend to reclaim the lost ground?

Your yard, Braxton. Your Old Man, yeah fucked up, surprise, surprise. I’m not working on your memorial, but $80.00 for a new yard trimmer. But wait, there’s more, Triple B. Remember, I know my limits, but without you here to spend money on or curb my enthusiasm… Well, that outfit came today. The one that a particular vixen wears. Dammit! It’s not like I can do anything with it. And all I wanted to do was get her out of it, so I could see her Yabbos. B III, trust me, you would like them to. I was begging, Braxton. More than you for a bite of anything and with the money I’ve spent. Would liquid courage help me with returns to the Day Job?

It couldn’t be harder than walking up to Banfield today when I didn’t see any fur babies at the front. Of course, I didn’t make it to the desk. It was like my heart was beating out of my chest. I was shaking, scared out of my mind, and ready to scream. Were you too? The last time I talked to Banfield was when they put you in a wooden box. And a little of you in my pendant I wear every single day. Your spirit, strength, and security. Those are everything. I wish I could say I was delirious, discombobulated, or drunk. Medicine time. I shake your meds, but I could use a drink. And still, I’d never forget you. The Next Round B.

Gospel 357 ~Be The Needle B~

Always and Forever,
Your Dad