Tag: Writer

Chronicle 176 ~B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting~

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I wish tonight I’d be reading a Christmas “story.” I haven’t even picked out a new book. I should see if A Christmas Story is on TV. I could tell you about The Matrix Resurrections if I understood it… “But B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting, um one.”

Friday, December 24, 2021

Chronicle 176 ~B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but it’s not for songwriting. I’ve been down that road before. Today though, this is new.

One, first and foremost, Braxton’s not here. Or he is? Geez, how long did I believe in Santa? I can’t believe in Braxton for 327 Days. Santa can take everything back if I get B. “Two girls will be upset, Will.”. Santa would say, who doesn’t look a thing like Jesus. The gift of life, Lady Sophia. Between some girl’s legs. Four boobs Soph. A threesome, a wish. Three wishes and my Olds were better capping it at ten. Yet I blame them for everything. Okay, my “father” for the most part. Then, of course, there’s B III. Not my gift but then… Four little legs came running to get in the car. Those legs followed me everywhere, and now my Braxton flies. I believe.

Five dollars was my cost of betrayal. Well over three hundred but again, who’s counting. At least Judas made thirty pieces of silver. I betrayed my God/dog for my manhood. Stuff and Thangs, my Onlyfans, all because I needed to feel something. Braxton was comfort and joy as the song goes. The Day Job brings RAGE. Here’s to mindless pleasures. Six in the morning, though? I want Braxton to wake me up like he once did when I had an off day. Hell, I might even go back to when my sister and I were kids with all our gifts. Seven days Lady Sophia. Can I have back the seven days when Braxton was sick? Try again? I would save him; I keep telling myself that. Give me a day in the week to enjoy. Eight days would be too much. But then again, eight orgasms? How about methods if I count up all my sex toys. And then I only want to buy more. Forgetting me. In my LUST.

Nine MM bullets? Don’t get scared. Even Carolina Bound didn’t freak out. I’m thinking about Christmas presents, and as I said, Sophia, I could use the ammo, okay. JIC right? Ten dollars’ worth of Braxton’s food is still in the refrigerator. Care to wager Sophia? Eleven girls for a brothel? Um thirteen, Thirteen Women (and Only One Man in Town). Twelve, though, my to-do list. Braxton gave me fifteen years. We counted on each other, but B’s Christmas, Who’s Counting?

327 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 175 ~An Invitation To B~

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So what are my Christmas plans? If I’m lucky, I’ll sleep most of the day. Well, after breakfast. I might take a walk around the neighborhood like I once did with Braxton. Being a black man, it’s like you have to be invited outside. An Invitation To B

Thursday, December 23, 2021

Chronicle 175 ~An Invitation To B~

326 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? You were never one for the groomers. But my head feels better. Outside at least.

I tell you B inside it’s a Dead Man’s Party and everyone’s invited. Yeah, I know that look you’re giving me “leave your body at the door.” We should have talked way sooner than this. You know if I plan on going to the movies tonight. Somewhere inviting me back. Isn’t it like Emergence Day? The only people wishing me well are people that want my money. Speaking of which, hasn’t my wallet been pretty open as of late? I tried talking to Capital A. She’s back on GoFundMe, and I tried B III. I was fucking shameless. Boy, I cried. Nope, not out my eyes, and I’m still a monk. I wish I wasn’t. I wish you were here, B. Locked in your room.

Besides you being punished or my private shower time… Oh, let’s not forget the Day Job and doing things to keep us alive. There were no doors between us. Yes, as I said, I went to the occasional movie. This will be my first since the pandemic hit. Another first. Braxton, I keep track of them all. Even if I got you one of those lovely red vests, I doubt you’d keep it together for a movie. When it comes to my life, though, you are always invited. I guess I didn’t know how boring I was. Your Aunt Carolina could come by B. Do you remember when she wasn’t invited until she allowed you to sniff her up? Well, more like feeling her up.

You are your father’s son. No one would think about inviting a perverted would-be psychopath. Fighting Bipolar disorder, Anxiety, Depression, and OCD. A medical degree? I don’t have one. And even if I did, I doubt your grandma would invite me “home.” Oh, and your granddad? B, ain’t enough cash, so I see Capital A’s point. And home, um, oh? The last time I ever thought of home was when I sent you away? Before, it was when I got cut off from the Olds, but I was called to collect you, and we found ourselves here B III ha. Is that my way of once again inviting you back for Christmas? Everyone Says Hi, well me. To live, to love. An Invitation To B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 169 ~B There Dead Air~

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Blah, blah, blah, all under the guise of the holiday, but that’s still a week away. I should have a new story to tell. My first Christmas without my boy or anyone. The cold bothers me, but Elsa is hot. The worst thing is the silence. B There Dead Air

Friday, December 17, 2021

Chronicle 169 ~B There Dead Air~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means Christmas should be a pretty big holiday for me. When I was a child…

Halloween? A few were spent on the streets of suburbia behind a mask ha. Others I was in a church here or there. Now, wait, aren’t I supposed to be talking about Christmas? Hell, this whole season in my life, this Mad Season, insane, inevitable? Somehow I ain’t Iron Man yet. Well, unless we’re talking about my willy. I swear, Lady Sophia, I need to treat LUST like a fucking zombie virus. If that were the idea, I would be dead now. Don’t threaten me with a good time, hmm? After my Humiliations, Galore, sigh. Is it any surprise that I’m thinking about the past Sophia? There’s the book Hold by Claire Kent. Remembering a song here or there. And now the movie Dead Air.

Thanksgiving that I have so many stories to tell myself because you know my usual. Again today, as the song goes, “work sucks, I know.” Wasn’t I talking about yesterday, the woman and her Christmas card? Now I got a bag from the Day Job. It ain’t a pink slip. I am thankful that I wrote another story this year and got all the badges to boot. Yes, I lied to get them. But what other accomplishments do I have this year? To check New Year’s resolutions. Of course, one of those was to keep my son alive. You didn’t think we would have a whole conversation without me mentioning him. 2021 is the worst year ever. That’s saying a lot, even beating out my Emergence year. No easy feat.

Christmas time, though, and as I’m sure I’ve said. If I stay out of trouble, this will be the first year I’ve ever been alone. B’s Aunt Carolina Bound said she’s coming to town to celebrate with her Dad. That also means she’s coming to see me. Smiling Faces Sometimes. I mean that more about myself than her. How have I kept it together? Impossible! Sophia, this could all be some nightmare, and I’ll wake up. Some nights I’ve believed. Of course, my go-to is that I’m dead, and this is Hell, but I’m breathing as the song goes, “I’m still breathing, I’m alive. Yet, I dream of an apocalypse. So Dead Air, Sophia? My movie night with her, without Braxton… B There Dead Air

320 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

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If I could’ve, I would’ve held my breath forever the moment B took his last. The will to live, yup. It was strong with him, too, if I hadn’t stopped it. That’s the problem. People telling me what I don’t want to hear, but B. Take A Breath Braxton, um

Thursday, December 16, 2021

Chronicle 168 ~Take A Breath Braxton~

319 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I know it’s late… 6:30 PM but you should look in on your Grandma, B.

It’s her birthday, B III, and you’ll have more of a chance to see her than me. Well, I’m being a selfish asshole, aren’t I? My interactions with her today equate to two beeps. Sending her a text and getting one back. Another reason dogs were given paws, not fingers. Braxton, I can also say this is why you were given barks, not words. I have heard talking dogs. But no matter you were the best B, always and forever. Um, you would make too much goddamn sense if you had words. Pardon my language, Day Job, and well… Humiliations Galore again. So yeah, I stuffed my face and took a nap. But do I want to talk about it, B III? How about no.

Oh, gasp, shocker, relax B. You did what my Olds couldn’t do for years. If I ever talked to them about my day? I wanted to stop breathing. You know what I mean. There was that time I didn’t eat and fell out on the floor, and you went and got them. Keep me breathing. That’s what you did, B III. You kept me breathing even when I didn’t want to. It’s getting harder to do these days. Yeah, without my tunes, I have too much time to think. Hell, for a while, I had an earworm to that song “Fly Me To The Moon.” You liked my singing B. “Now I didn’t say that,” you’d give me that look. Again allow my selfishness B.

If you had one more breath to give, I’d ask you, spend it with me and not your grandma. When I had those arguments in my head at the Day Job, I wanted to say this. “At least when my son makes a noise, he’s helping me out. You can shut the fuck up!” Language, I know B III. I’m sorry. Anger is more useful than despair, I heard somewhere. The lady in Shoes was dicking around with me today. Pitying me by giving me a Christmas card. Worse, she was “proselytizing.” It took me some time to find that word. Anyway, between that and The Christmas Nanny, Tess being all alone. Yeah, B III if you can get here somehow. Take A Breath Braxton.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

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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 161 ~Days Ending With B~

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Bad days aren’t going anywhere, and I fooled myself into believing neither was B III. He was always here. No, he is here if you listen to me say goodbye and hello every time I walk in the house. Every day, those Days Ending With B

Thursday, December 9, 2021

Chronicle 161 ~Days Ending With B~

312 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? There would be no fries today, but I could have brought you breakfast. Whataburger chicken?

Breakfast is what I was most looking forward to B III. We aren’t big breakfast guys. I don’t want to get sick at the Day Job, and you would be all “Now My Watch Begins.” Then again, “Pancake” was your nickname. I bought the good bacon and sausage for you. But the “Boys In Blue?” Talk about paranoia B, and I would if you were here. You are here. I keep having to remind myself of that. Then I would keep myself out of trouble. I’m trying B, yup. But the boss man leaves, a call to the office, I swear a cashier said, COP. If anything, I only want to go on my terms. Braxton, my little boy, that choice was made for you.

Blinding myself with tears, I’m sorry. It’s another thing that happens every day, no matter what. This would be twice today. Yesterday I was talking about how I can never stay awake. If I take an afternoon nap, I look to your corner, Braxton, as soon as I wake up. I should be spending bucks on a Cuddle Clone, a tattoo, a chain. I spend it on boobs, Yabbos, and a lack of UK titties. I don’t sleep nude; usually, I told Cherry. Again where’s all my money going? Anyway, I only have to survive another half-day, Braxton, then it’s us. “Whatever, Daddy.” I can hear you now. You’d huff or bark, knowing again I would be sleeping or writing the days away. But together

Being father and son, brothers, best friends. How I miss those days B III. I wish I could remember them more, and it’s not like I’m forgetting. I can’t focus on the Day Job anymore while other people break the rules. I’m getting why you barked at everyone. My world. Breathing in it, though, is getting harder by the day. 312 to be specific. Today I was laying out your treat and realized there are so few left. They might not last another week. I should start another tribute. A picture frame, one for each week. 52 is a lot. Hell, I pay Cherry, order B-dubs, visit PetSmart once a week B. And I love you every day ending in Y. Days Ending With B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 155 ~To B Humiliated Soon~

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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 154 ~From B’s To Effs~

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No one is above the law… Well, white guys with lots of money. Or an asshole who likes to wear earphones. A chick, having full-blown conversations on the phone while on the clock. But anything that brings me peace? Air pods? From B’s To Effs

Thursday, December 2, 2021

Chronicle 154 ~From B’s To Effs~

305 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day was effed up with a capital F. The worst day of my life?

Of course not, B. Always and Forever, I love you like pancakes, but your last day, Sunday, January 31, 2021, is my worst. I still use that day as the bar. If I survived that day, then today was nothing. It’s how I know I’m not suicidal. Well, I’m always a little, but I’m still breathing. That leads me to Emergence Day, which is a step down from your death. Me being given life. In the words of Captain Deladier (Starship Troopers). “Someone made a BIG goddamn mistake!” My Olds. But isn’t today supposed to be about you and me, Braxton? If it were more about you back then… Anyway, like yesterday I have ten more for the Humiliations Galore.

  1. Paranoia, um, the boss got called into the office. Oh no, it’s the cops, but it wasn’t B III
  2. Paranoia, I thought I got bit by a spider. It would serve me right.
  3. Remember all those rules the Manager went over yesterday. Yeah, only apply to me.
  4. Then she went over the same rules as other people broke them. That bitch
  5. I had to hear about my ineptitude twice today fucking crappy praise from supervisors
  6. I couldn’t point out garbage bags. But after all, your daddy is a waste
  7. I couldn’t help a customer find a Hallmark ornament
  8. Here’s a big one, lying about being pissed about #3 through #5
  9. Used the restroom at the Day Job, so I’m pretty grody. No shower after, room’s gross
  10. I got a KAREN at work today over some shoes. What’s My Age Again?

So what would be your advice Little B? First off, stop doing things that will get me arrested and fired so I’d end up leaving you. I’m not a white man with money. Again rules apply to me and no one else. Take a damn shower so I can cuddle you. I did get McDonald’s today, so you would have never forgiven me for showering first. Tell the damn truth. You would use silence to lie B, like father like son. It’s sad though, I say your name to avoid cursing my entire life. But honestly, B III, eff my life. From B’s To Effs

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 148 ~Pump The Breaks B~

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To think I damned last Friday. Today’s Black Friday, so yeah, my “Humiliations Galore….” Well, I don’t want to talk about it, then again I do, but my son is gone. When nobody is Happy you survived the day, then I’d get back here. “Pump The Breaks B.”

Friday, November 26, 2021

Chronicle 148 ~Pump The Breaks B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means there should be no more humiliation. Penis Rocket, Bernie Sanders, lying to Stephen Colbert.

Hell, with today being “Black Friday.” the Humiliations Galore portion of my life was multiplied. If I started talking about all my shame today, I would never ever stop Sophia. I could always tell you some more about Braxton. Always with the pain of his loss, everything pales in comparison, my lady. It’s pretty fucked up using Braxton this way. Would you rather me tell you a pornographic tale? Yet again, I will lie to NaNoWriMo about “Behave In The Cherry Patch.” I finished reading “Only Gone From Your Sight.” So many stories. But the one that came to mind this afternoon was when I escaped for an hour at lunch. Am I trying to remember happier times with my lost boy? After a nap.

Anyway, when I do get a lunch break, I would come back to walk Braxton. I’m trying to remain “cheerful,” Lady Sophia, honest. AHEM, so I’d return, and we’d walk the path behind the house. I could be late a minute or so getting back to the Day Job, but B III IS worth it. He was so tiny that when he sneezed, sometimes he would bang his head on the floor. No wonder he was on a quest for comfy spots. Hardheaded but a soft behind, that’s B. I could never figure out what was wrong with one side of his bed, you know. Saving a place for me? He could have wanted me to sit my ass down. Sometimes for only ten minutes.

Once, when we first got here, I remember that I came back to the house, and Braxton had slipped through the bars to greet me. I can tell you so many miracles of Braxton showing love, but him staying with me, not sprinting outside. Impossible, Parenting, I did it right. Sophia, of course, you know my favorite view of Braxton. Waking up like I did today, and B III at the foot of the bed staring out the door. He would come back and decide if I was strong enough. If he cuddled me, I’d drift off. If he ran around the bed. “Daddy’s awake.” That was his way of telling me it was time to live but 299 Days Sophia. Pump The Breaks B

299 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 147 ~Forgetting A’s Yeah B~

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This was my son’s “Christmas.” Sure he would get a large fry for himself on birthdays. His aunt baked him a cake. He’d get half my fries when I stopped for fast food. Today though, he’d get to see Grandma and, of course, turkey. Forgetting A’s Yeah B

Thursday, November 25, 2021

Chronicle 147 ~Forgetting A’s Yeah B~

298 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? If “Only Gone From Your Sight” is to be believed, nothing I do tops wherever…

Only I ask that you allow me to try. Now we never did the holidays though you stuffed your face full of fries on many birthdays. There was also the time your Aunt Carolina “baked” you a cake. And let’s not talk about my Emergence, but there was steak, Braxton. Anyway, today is your Christmas or, instead, Happy Turkey Day. Can you tell that I’m trying to remember all the good times? The way you would dance around. And B, if you’re a good boy, pretty lucky one, grandma would pat your head. Thanksgiving dinner. Braxton, this isn’t me being a smartass, but you do remember last year? She brought a whole turkey… You were here to share it with.

Speaking of sharing, you know it’s my routine to share my sins on Wednesday. I did plenty, but I’m talking to you a bit earlier, not by much. You know about this time with NaNo season, I’m deep into my writing. There was the time ants invaded us one year. While I was working this afternoon, I found that I got 4,600 words down before 5:00 PM. So that’s good for me, right? You know what I’m doing half the time… But do you know why I got this done today? I didn’t stop to cry over you. Oh, I sobbed later, B as always. Braxton, it was like you weren’t on my mind at all. Language of the Heart, Only Gone From Your Sight.

It gets worse B III. Yesterday I spoke about things from my past. There are things I bought or did before you were ever here. I’ve been lugging one around with me all day. I feel as Ellie did some “Its light on the reading, but its got some interesting photos,” Um, yes and no. English Visual Novels B III. We would lie right where I’m sitting now, and I would read all sorts of stuff. Of course, things like cough Virgin Roster cough I saved for when you went to bed or got in trouble. Finally, there was what concerned me before you died. I shouldn’t cough, and I should say you’re still alive. Right now, though, I’m hungry, and I can’t share with you. Forgetting A’s Yeah B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad