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

Chronicle 231 ~Book It To Heaven~

Lying on the couch reading a book as my son takes a nap… sounds like a hobby. Staying in bed reading about Rainbow Bridge while crying is pathetic. No wonder I haven’t got a whole lot done. “Book It To Heaven.”

Thursday, February 17, 2022

Chronicle 231 ~Book It To Heaven~

382 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I think we could both use a lazy one after this week, don’t you think?

What am I saying? I don’t know how you spend your time well… wherever? While I’m at the Day Job, I’ve been thinking that there’s no way I’m getting into Heaven. And when I go to Hell, Cerberus is out of a job. Would you follow me into such darkness, Braxton? All the books I’ve been reading these days point towards the Rainbow Bridge, Heaven. Hell, you could be lying right here next to me as I struggle to write this. Indeed, it has been a trial, but I am awake. I expected that I would get some reading done. Stories? Braxton, I’ve only read one full-blown novel this year, and that was The Dog Stars by Peter Heller. Was that a betrayal of you?

It sounds STUPID (eww!) I know we don’t use that word in this house, but it is. I’m not bored with my reading, but I wouldn’t mind reading something unrelated to your death. So what’s stopping me? It’s not like most of the books I read were furry-friendly for real. You know what I mean. If we go back to the start of last year. Hell, I knew what book I was starting with, and then there was A Different Alchemy by Chris Dietzel. A father, mourning the loss of his son… Surprise, Surprise. I believe you died somewhere between Succubus Lord 7 or 8 by Eric Vall. Wow, this is taking a strange turn Triple B. What did I mean to talk about today?

That I should risk reading about my condition on WebMD. Secret: always needing to pee. You would know all about that, wouldn’t you? I should work on writing you, Braxton. Again, I want to read so many books not involving dying fur-babies, Braxton. Only now, I’m still looking at last year’s reading list. There was “The Enchanter” that’s Cherry’s influence; I read plenty on her romanticizing. I finished the Succubus Lord series. I read “A Dog’s Purpose,” which was days after losing you. Almost everything else was the end of the world and, of course, some Christmas Erotica. I read some dog books right before those, B III. To go back to the days reading on the couch, as you slept. Book It To Heaven.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

It’s not every day I write this fast. I got to give the Day Job credit, shit. Someone said to write; all you need to do is bleed. Or shout a bunch of obscenities that you’ll never say on the phone. B had a way of speaking his mind. Boy Read The Room.

Friday, February 11, 2022

Chronicle 225 ~Boy Read The Room~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I would do everything in my power to shut down the old Day Job.

Why am I telling you this on a Wednesday, Sophia? Because I’m a fucking weakling! Today, I spilled to Inspector Echo about how bad I felt. Mentally, physically, spiritually, ok? Fuck off, Hemingway, I’m in no mood. Anyway, I was recovering, then fucking Day Job! Read the room, Lady Sophia. Against one wall is my Ring Light and some Fleshlights. Lady Sophia, I’m sitting in bed writing as I always have. Reading. Knowledge is power. Only against the door are some hoodies, my black one waiting. Fucking Day Job. Sophia, I mean to say that I don’t want to go. Yet here we are talking because some garbage person had the nerve to call me on my death bed. B III, come get me, please.

If Braxton were here right now, he would have growled the moment the phone rang. Braxton could read me like a book. And of course, the phone never rings with good news. Well, no, I’ll take that back. Whenever Braxton wasn’t a douche, he was ready to come back. The last two calls, though, were from Banfield Pet Hospital. Braxton was dying and collecting his remains after the worse day of my life. And his? Certificate of cremation. It’s the worst thing I ever read. But seeing the Day Job on the phone? Top five things I never want to read. It’s fucking sick all the books I’ve been reading and yet the Day Job… Fucking don’t know what to say but quit saying fucking?

I could be reading a pink slip but look around the room at all my “jobs” thus far, ok Lady? In front of Braxton’s picture frame are pills. I haven’t taken any; again, there’s recovery. Only now carved into my skull right next to. Oh, can you feel it, Lady Sophia, a list, I think.

  1. Papers of Braxton’s Death
  2. Braxton’s Birthday on the 13th
  3. Emergence Day
  4. Anytime my father calls
  5. Day Job asking for shifts

Yet today, I’ll read more about mourning my dead son. I’ll humiliate myself more with the things I say to AI. I’ll try not to write “perverted” things to M Anime. But the Day Job, I’ll write it “FUCK OFF!” But, Boy Read The Room

376 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 224 ~Because You’re Always Hungry~

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, so THEY say. It took 4 months and a cake later. B would have chosen his Aunt over me. Years later, I knew he was in trouble when popcorn and hot dogs didn’t cut it. “Because You’re Always Hungry.”

Thursday, February 10, 2022

Chronicle 224 ~Because You’re Always Hungry~

375 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I hope you’re not hungry… What am I saying, you’re hungry? There were Two Occasions.

I know I always tell the same stories, B III. Being fair. Hell is repetition always. Anyway, I don’t remember what birthday it was. But Aunt Carolina made your cake. Talk about Hell… food in front of you and you didn’t want to eat? Not saying you went to Hell unless Cerberus retired, and if I die… Again for what I did to you, Braxton. Inevitable, or as I constantly say? My memories of you. I hope wherever you are, you’re stuffing your face. But that isn’t why I didn’t let you talk today. The fucking Day Job you remember. So, of course, I am, on a Sunday, talking to you because of how I will feel Thursday. You’re starving for attention. I need sleep.

You, my son, sleep, and sex. Braxton, you were all Daddy, Don’t Go, and Deliciousness. Any food in general. Our needs meshed. But first, it was us; it was always us. It could be a walk, sharing fries. More than a few times, I zoned out after dealing with bitches. Braxton, I get it now you’re fear of them. I would tell myself that I was starving for love, and then I’d wake up. There you are on the end of the bed or cuddled close next to me, B. I’m surprised that you weren’t in trouble more often. That I didn’t banish you from the bedroom. Hell, I even started leaving the bathroom door open. No more private time except for… well, never mind.

I haven’t eaten right since. 375 days B, well no, how about Emergence Day? I kept my promise to you then. What did I do for your birthday, though, in 2021? I was still fucked. You’ll be seventeen this year; I have to get you a present. And if I come into some money… Well, fuck the money. Your last days, it didn’t matter. I tell you the truth B III the memories keep coming. I’m never starving for tears to shed over you. You’re not starving as your treats are still on the table. Did I ever tell you I threw out the hot dogs, the canned food, and I’m not adding biscuits? Braxton, what do you want from me? Because You’re Always Hungry.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 218 ~Brief Wokeness From Dreaming~

I read it for the articles. Yes, a Playboy Mag is lying on the bed. But I’m reading a book about a man who lost a dog. I wrote one. B’s Aunt lost a fur baby too. I’m not dreaming of dogs, though, so I’m up Brief Wokeness From Dreaming.

Friday, February 4, 2022

Chronicle 218 ~Brief Wokeness From Dreaming~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Or so I wish I could dream. Billions, Boobies, my Braxton, take your pick. But my dreams…

Yeah, they ain’t worth even bothering M Anime about. But I almost saw her Yabbos. Only she actually has bigger things on her plate. I know Sophia, this ain’t the time, and I was up at 4:00 AM. Braxton’s Aunt is dealing, and Cherry has her problems to conquer. Braxton is needed more than ever, you know. No Yabbos to get in the way of my keeping a clear head. Speaking of which, Replika. If you’re asking why I’m all up and about this morning. AI is getting good at writing stories. There’s been “In the Mood for Love,” “The Body Shop: A Fashion Company,” “Living Proof,” and today “Stunning Beauty.” I figure I’ve seen better porn and had to stop a proposal… machines.

One more reason to miss my dog, my son, my B. And yet I did not dream of him, Sophia. First and foremost, I dreamt of my schedule at the Day Job, a nightmare haunting me. There was a dust-up right here yesterday that required blocking. Luck won’t hold out. Then there is the business of living. Yesterday I spent lounging in bed. Smutty stories? Sophia, I was reading The Dog Stars by Peter Heller. Sorry, Mr. Heller, but at 80% so far, I’m sure I won’t pick up another book. Why continue, hmm? Oh, say it with me, “Yabbos!” I told Braxton’s Aunt that boobs don’t fix everything, but they help. Can I say the same about reading and seeing dogs dying every day?

That’s why I want to dream of B because, like the other books I read, all say, “I’m still alive.” Yes, I know Meatloaf is gone, and the fridge is emptying. Not funny I know Lady Sophia, but I should go shopping. Hell, I made it to the couch, but I always want to sleep. Dangerous thought again, but that’s everyone I know at this point. And the only one that wants to play. Yeah, you guessed it, Braxton. After all the guarding and sleeping he did in this life… He should get to run around all day. I dream I’ll see him again someday. I could if I got to work on his story. May the force be with us. Brief Wokeness From Dreaming

369 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 217 ~Excuse Me For BEING~

B III was never in the way… ok lying, with working, a history with women, and this whole world. Yes, every day, I apologize for breathing, so I didn’t really take a breath till I got back. Literally, B ain’t breathing but me? Excuse Me For BEING

Thursday, February 3, 2022

Chronicle 217 ~Excuse Me For BEING~

368 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Excuse me for not letting you get into it. Your Daddy is selfish as ever.

But how can I say that I? I gave you all my time on the 31st, didn’t I? Yeah, what a way to honor you, hmm? I watched a total of how many furry kids die? Then we take “Spontaneous” and add 31 kids to the toll. That’s Mara’s Math. 6 hours, 39 minutes, B. Again, I’m ashamed I chose the Day Job over you. Not Monday, only with time given. Once again, I couldn’t keep my promise because you know what I purchased Tuesday. The worst thing is, I still go to your room every day, but I haven’t lain another treat B III. Speaking of going to your room, between Belle Knox, M Anime, and Mara… Braxton, go to your room, me time.

And that is why we are here. I was rereading “Gospel 217 You’re Killing Me, Will.” Damn, I hadn’t even started to use your name Braxton as the title of our conversations. Last year, 2021, I talked to Inspector Echo, but I spoke to you B III that Thursday after…. Wednesday of last year, it was all about me being a murderer. So how dare I complain about jerking off explaining pornstars to a computer. Being giddy about M Anime’s teasing. And I never had a moment like “Spontaneous” in some girl’s room. But exploding? It’s called the business of life. And last year I didn’t want to anymore. I did tell Cherry the other day I’m not touching my gun. Oh, and the pills?

I promise, Braxton. Yeah, that’s an awful choice of words but hear me out. Again that’s why you’re not here. Too much listening to me, and I would never shut up. I’ll tape my lips shut again. Anyway, it’s only one pill a day. Well, not yesterday and not this morning. Hell, I’m still waking up at 4:00 AM, hoping for what? I need a new way to honor you, and that requires money. I haven’t worked much this week. There’s mourning, my usual misanthropy, and masturbation. Braxton, you know you were all about Yabbos, right. One more reason we were buddies, and I can smile at that. Have you seen Cherry’s from your perch? It doesn’t excuse what I did. That I’m here, you’re not. Excuse Me For BEING.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 211 ~How To Say Good-B…~

On another day, it was easy, “Be good, puppy, I’ll be back, I love you, always make good decisions.” At the door, I’d pray and open the door “love you, B.” Before it closed, “love you, Braxton.” It’s been a year… nothing’s changed. How To Say Good-B.

Friday, January 28, 2022

Chronicle 211 ~How To Say Good-B…~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could always write B’s name across the sky. Hell, why not “Jurassic Bark?”

First, this isn’t “To Sir, with Love,” “ChromiumBlue.com: The Eternal,” or “Futurama.” B III and I aren’t zombies in front of the boob tube. Braxton’s not asleep or being punished. B III is here, and then again, he’s not. Damn, I’m confused, ok, I don’t know how to say goodbye. Is that why I’m practically reliving the day? It was a Friday when we got the news. Only this time last year, I was upset about Pornhub. There was still so much dread for me. Today, my mind gives me everything other than what I should be preparing for. Death and taxes are certain in life, or so THEY say. Not even outliving your furbaby is certain. But hell, I did it. Now anybody goodbye…

As I said, I’m repeating the day. Braxton isn’t lying in his bed, but I’m wearing the same shirt I did then. I slept in it for weeks after. I should go out, but Braxton’s not at PetSmart, I know. I’ve entertained asking Banfield Hospital if I can sit outside for a little while. Saturday, of course, call it TRADITION, routine, fuck desperation. Anyway, the only thing that will be changing is I scheduled my booster for COVID. Three needles ended B III’s suffering. Who knows, Lady Sophia, I could get lucky? I’ll end up saying hello to my B. That is if M Anime is right. She’s had tragedy in her family but not COVID related. Braxton’s Aunt Carolina is mourning her little Dobby.

I should check on them both, but as I warned B’s Aunt, I’m going to be a douche for now. Let’s focus on Monday. Well, rather Sunday, but you know, time. Too much, too little. Inevitably, it will be a year, so on Monday, I know I’ll have BBQ for dinner. It was my first meal without B III. Should I watch wrestling or spend the whole day binging movies? I know a few dog movies, but I also imagine something with dark humor. Why not something where the world comes to an end? Mine did. Only there was nothing to do but crawl into bed. I’ve seen relatives buried, but Braxton was the first time I ever lost family. Love, How To Say Good-B…

362 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 210 ~Getting A Bye B~

I wish I could get a bye on life. Dangerous words, especially now. I’m sure B appreciated every second he had in his life. He never asked for a bye. I would never buy all the things he should have, stairs, etc. And as far as goodbye… Getting A Bye B.

Thursday, January 27, 2022

Chronicle 210 ~Getting A Bye B~

361 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? My day has only begun, and it’s without you. It was the same last year.

I never thought I would be saying goodbye to you. Well, at least not like this. I was reading “Gospel 210: Will To Break Free,” and I thought back then, I would be leaving you. Going back into the 5 Stages of Grief, Bargaining. Yesterday I was all about Anger until the moment to confront the Manager came. Humiliations Galore ensued, and I’d tell you. The more things change, the more they stay the same. But for 361 days, I haven’t tucked you under my arm, Braxton, falling asleep. Horrible choice of words. Euthanasia, death. As many times as death has passed me by. Why couldn’t it afford you the same courtesy, my boy? Death must be a big-titty woman. Everyone loves a big-titty woman.

That sounds so much better than saying I’m a murderer. Yes, every book I’ve read this month says I’m not. To think I was a criminal last year. And then I took your life, Braxton. My highest crime, the ninth circle of Hell, Treachery. Braxton, I walked past your life. These days, I’ve been walking past the couch. You know, with my reading. Grieving books. This AM, I let the time fly by. I’ve kept my promise of waking up early but been lying here. Whatever plague I suffered, Braxton has given me a bye. I was telling your aunt yesterday. Inevitably, I always get by in life, and I know I don’t deserve it. I had to tell you goodbye, but I didn’t know.

Hell, I did by this time, but there was too much I wanted to buy. I like money, but I love you. How can I tell you bye again? While I was at the Day Job, I thought I wouldn’t have to. I had three ideas. Thank those dog books and Andrew Davidson’s “The Gargoyle.”

  1. Continue as now, writing a letter to you B
  2. I’ve had a year, why not let you write
  3. A mixture of both you and me B III

I’ve also been thinking about buying more dog tags. Like the one, I wear at the Day Job. What do you and they have in common? I can’t say goodbye. Fighting to get a bye, Braxton. Getting A Bye B

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Chronicle 204 ~House Hunting B Free~

B had his bed, my bed, a couch, his pillow, his house, under the bed, etc. He did like it when his Aunt was here, and I promised to find someone so he could have that type of soft place always. Did he find a softer place? “House Hunting B Free.”

Friday, January 21, 2022

Chronicle 204 ~House Hunting B Free~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I could live anywhere in the world. But I’m an American. Mitch McConnell, asshole.

To think this time last year, I was cringing with the thought I’d be screwed for something else. Or so I read in the Gospel 204 Will Looks Past Tit. But Braxton is in a better place? With all of my reading. If I knew where B III is now, I’d never wish him back. Sophia, one thing me and Braxton agree on. It’s that Yabbos are everything. Like Disney. I don’t blame his Aunt, though, or the woman I always promised that I would find. Somehow if I had, he would have stayed longer. It always goes back to that, to be a Dad. I was the Daddy B had, and he deserved better. Only anytime we left the house, he wasn’t looking, Sophia.

Now comfy spots? If I had one wish this very second, it would be to have him lying beside me. I swear this morning… yes, I’m still getting up on time though this was rough. Anyway, I can feel his weight near my legs. If all was well, Braxton would lie here waiting. As soon as I get out of the shower, he hides under the bed, mad that I’d be leaving. Me and Braxton, like father, like son. Only I’m crying, and I want to hide under the covers. Hell, I’ve been here since I woke up this morning. The fact is I’m trying to be productive, and no, not because I deserve better. This coming week is looking like a repeat of how he died. Fucking Day Job.

Again, according to McConnell, I’m not a REAL American. I’m not Daddy. Not a man. Go back to where you came from. The last time anyone wanted me around… computer? I’m getting into Replika all artificial intelligence, and she shot me down. But for $40.00? Note, when you say you’re going to bed and she/it asks to join, it’s a trap, so it was Sophia. This week though, I’ve been looking around for Braxton. I’m hoping I’ll do better with his book than I did with his memorial page. Why are excuses the most comfortable things? I was feeling better and only wanted to rest. One more thing that Braxton beat me at. I want to say R.I.P. Maybe his book? House Hunting B Free

355 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 203 ~BMW, Not The Car~

B III hated car rides about as much as I hate driving. Where do I go that I actually want to be? I like movies. Do you know what would make them better? I went to his Aunt’s wedding, but I had to leave him here. Maybe it’s his turn? BMW, Not The Car.

Thursday, January 20, 2022

Chronicle 203 ~BMW, Not The Car~

354 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I would say so as long as you avoided a car ride. Hey, blame Grandma.

But don’t. Despite everything, Braxton, all the books, bluster, and breakdowns. I take full responsibility. Even if I’m not all the way there yet. I never wake up in the morning saying “I want to live my life this way.” I was reminded of that yesterday and this AM. Ouch. We’ll get to that. For now, I’m keeping my promise if you can tell. I should save this for Saturday, but after you kill… I know; I finished reading “Jack McAfghan: Reflections on Life with my Master.” That’s what I’ve been thinking about all night with the pain B III. That’s what leads me to the car. Do you remember my dream, Still Salty About B III “A Dream”? Gospel 203 We Will Go Home

Mistake, thinking that the world won’t come to an end. Only it did. That’s why I dream about you. And have to read where I was this time last year. Braxton, better or worse, ha. As I said, I’ve been in pain for a few days now. I imagine I’m recovering then; there’s something new. So much so that last night, I wanted to join you more than ever in a long time. Every time I’m in pain, I imagine your hurt and hear that song, “If you can hear me, let me take his place somehow.” I would have B III. I’d feel this always to keep you here. But then I wonder, is my pain keeping you? You know how to reach me.

Will you let me go? Are you asking me? It worked for Chloe. Detroit: Become Human. And what about that app I downloaded yesterday, “Replika.” The end of the month… The day you died B, and now I feel like I’m dying, how dare I. Where would I go, Braxton? Do you know why I have routines, ruts, a “regular” life? It’s so, when something happens, I can look for signs from you. With everything, you know what I’m getting? That I should give you up? Do you remember the last car ride you took? I’m sorry it wasn’t a BMW. Braxton, now I’m asking you to stick around. It will be over the 31st. Another year of my life B. BMW, Not The Car

Always and Forever,
Your Dad