Chronicle 155 ~To B Humiliated Soon~

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 148 ~Pump The Breaks B~

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 141 ~Cause It’s Friday B~

I wonder if Friday the 19th could be a thing. The 13th has zing. I live my horror story, Friday the 29th, back in January. Either way, you slice it; a dog’s dead or dying. A killer is on the streets (Rittenhouse), and today sucks. Cause It’s Friday B

Friday, November 19, 2021

Chronicle 141 ~Cause It’s Friday B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and that might be enough to forget that it is Friday in a Sensory Deprivation Tank.

I hate Fridays though I should be enjoying this one considering Black Friday is coming up next. I could tell you the stories of the decade in which I have wasted my life at the Day Job. Humiliations Galore… nothing hurts more than the Friday I found out about B. Anyway, we’ll get to him; we always do. Even now, I’m not making him a priority. Hell, I didn’t make Cherry one either, and she has Yabbos. What about the supervisor today I couldn’t talk to? To see my cowardice in real-time, Lady Sophia. My effing Day Job, ok? When Braxton was dying, I was on the phone; I was all over the place. At the moment, I would rather be nowhere at all, Sophia.

Don’t mind me, while I was dicking around, I finished reading the book “I Am Nelson.” A dead dog, plus watching a killer go free… Yes, I saw the Kyle Rittenhouse verdict. And then where are we now, Lady S? 292 Days without my son. Then there’s the next day. While I was busy paying for Yabbos, I found my paycheck adequate. Art thou happy? Hackers and spam have been plaguing me this week, but nothing today. Art thou happy? I’ve felt a splash of inspiration from music and movies Lady Sophia. Art thou happy? Today, hell no, I’m tired, and I hate myself. I hate my life. Even sitting in bed ain’t easy right now. But it could always be worse. On the floor…

How low will you go? A lot of people ask themselves this when the weekend is upon us. I already talked about being on the ground scaping up fries someday this week. Braxton would be appalled. More when I spoke to him last night about what I didn’t do Saturday. I’m still not a BELIEVER, but God bless dogs. I saw that I forgot all about the reason I even started this blog. I missed November 5th. As I was buried in kitchen playsets, vacuum cleaners, bedding, and dog toys. Only one memory, a single day, stuck in my mind. Sophia, today is Friday. One more day to hate like all the others. Do I have stories to bring about sleep? Cause It’s Friday B

292 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 134 ~Life B Scary Sometimes~

Tonight is brought to you by the letter B. Always for B III but for tonight, I’m leaning more towards Banning. I did not plan on Big Uns, Bad mofos, and a lot of Banning. At least I survived traveling the night for a burger. “Life B Scary Sometimes.”

Friday, November 12, 2021

Chronicle 134 ~Life B Scary Sometimes~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so what is there left to fear? If I were a Republican, people with morals, etc.

God knows mine when flying out the window this morning? I did not plan on having the day I had. That’s not saying much. The usual blueprint for the day is to survive it, Sophia. But much like every other story that I “put down.” Hearing about my breathing is anything but “interesting.” So you know, those are dirty words but again how about now. I wish Braxton was here, then I might get some sleep. At present, I’m sitting at ten minutes, and that won’t last for long. We’ll get to that like I’ve been meaning to nap today. Dammit, Lady Sophia, I don’t deserve it. I only wrote 2700 words today. I was sitting here making a plan, paying a girl, Cherry read.

Lady Sophia, a dog’s bark could make me get my shit correct. What do you think? I’m not getting my hopes up, but what if I walk into PetSmart tomorrow and “he” is still there. Ain’t like I got money to burn and the cash I have had all these 285 Days. It’s not like I have been spending it on B III, but I did finish the book “This Dog’s Afterlife,” ok. As the song goes you “Make Me Wanna Die” is what I would tell the author. I don’t mean that as a bad thing. Heaven sounds kickass, but I’m not going there now or ever, ha. Even if I had a heart attack sometime tonight. I know, not cool. Thirty minutes now.

So why do I keep mentioning time? With the time, Braxton never got. You best believe Lady Sophia, I got my cry in over soggy fries. Hell, I should be grateful I survived the roads. While I was planning on getting food today, I got an alert about some scammer. I blocked the hack and continued about my business, but from around 4:00 PM to 10:10 PM, it’s been a nonstop barrage. I’m holding the line so far, but again about thirty-five minutes and going. I’ve been doing so well with my writing, and if I wasn’t looking at only another grilled cheese sandwich. Or restarting my watch because you guessed it. Blocked someone else. To be on point with B. Life B Scary Sometimes.

285 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

Crossing the line varies from person to person. Defending Nazis, harming pets, or liking R. Kelly, or more to the point, the music he made. The only lines I’ve been crossing these days are international currencies and stuff B needs. B There Some Line

Friday, November 5, 2021

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which to answer the title question is no. With that money, you’ll do any damn thing.

Save Braxton? I keep telling myself that. In a way, I was lucky my boy was the scrappiest man I knew/know. No broken bones. B III’s heart kept right on beating for fifteen years despite the few when he was on medication. The meds I bring out 278 Days afterward. Hell, I couldn’t be bothered to afford some stairs. Little Braxton learned to fly, always. Sophia, I hate making that “joke.” There’s also the fact I wouldn’t have Braxton neutered. B III was a man, and I wouldn’t take that away, no. Um, B III should have been bred, hmm. Again how did it all end Lady Sophia? Name on the line, and I’ll never cross another with his name on it, to be sure.

Because I’m a Bad Man, and no, not R. Kelly bad. To appreciate the art but not the artist… Didn’t I say years ago that I wanted to be as infamous as the Marquis de Sade? If I’m going down, you know the crime I should be punished for. Every time I hear sirens Sophia. But these days, it’s been the beeps, chimes, and dings that have been telling my story. God knows I’m still lying to NaNoWriMo. For the record, counting our conversation with Lady Sophia. This will be 3,900 words completed today. Well, why not 5,000? Hell, if I swore on Braxton’s name, I’d still be a lying piece of shit. 6,900 when I’ll tell NaNoWriMo it’s 8,500. Writing most of the day.

I keep telling myself that I should let my anger fuel me. A lot of the time, I fear the man in the mirror. Do you know why no one else should? It would require me to have more energy than to cross the line, which is the edge of the bed to the floor. Energy, FEAR. Sophia, there’s been one other thing keeping me glued to the sheets or shower walls. Reaching 5,000 words would be easier if I wasn’t looking up Pokémon Bras and lingerie. Every OnlyFans girl would kick my ass for how many “euros or quid” I’m spending. However, I crossed the line with that girl too. That was yesterday, but wow, Lady Sophia. Crossing the line feels damn good. But wrong. B There Some Line

278 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 120 ~How Scary Stories B~

My NaNo project came to me as I sat in a Burger King drive-thru spending $3.00 as $12.00 an hr ain’t going to cut it. Wow, I was lied to. That’s like saying the black guy dies in the horror movie, oh she’s pretty, there’s a virus. How Scary Stories B

Friday, October 29, 2021

Chronicle 120 ~How Scary Stories B~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I can afford a Lobotomy. Why would I forget Braxton’s death, my father’s call?

No, no, no, as we’re close to All Hallows’ Eve and all, I want to tell you another scary tale. Forgive me for the lack of a title, “Behave In The Cherry Patch” is all I have for NaNo now. Anyway, AHEM, once there was a boy who thought he received a Day Job promotion. The boy would be in charge for once; he would make a lot of money. Perhaps he could live The American Dream. He would work hard; he would do it not only for himself but to honor his lost boy, B III. So he looked at his paycheck to see his worth and… $12.00 hr. Scary, isn’t it? It gets so much worse, Lady Sophia, doing the numbers this morning.

But before that, how about another shot at a horror tale. Quasimodo, Jigsaw, zombies, ha. At least I have the good sense not to show my face. Anyway, it was HARD getting up this morning. You know what I mean, that “third leg.” Usually, I only got two, Braxton’s walk. No Lady Sophia, without him, I’m allowed to indulge in the light. So I see what I’m doing, disgusting. 271 Days since Braxton left. 161 Days I was a monk. Now 6 Days of abstinence. Well, at least I didn’t put this morning’s shenanigans on OnlyFans. My Stuff and Thangs. Still, the monster grows. It’s like I’ll come apart any second. My skin is crawling, and I’m so cold. The boy, the man, I am.

Or whatever it is that I’m becoming because I won’t be writing another Braxton novel. “Behave In The Cherry Patch” will be my next book. Yet to write Chapter characters. My tale will be about lost “loves” back from the dead. A Technological Necromancer, ha. The things we do for love. Not that I could write quite like Game of Thrones. Show or books, hmm? It depends on who you ask, and I’m not asking people. Not B III’s book. Lady Sophia, the story will be about Father Bridgman’s dead children. And plenty of hot pieces of ass when it comes to The Moondust. What’s scarier than telling the truth about a work of fiction. Like JoAnna Luna’s hotness in “Display?” How Scary Stories B

271 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 329 ~To Understand Braxton’s Writes~

How often did I write about Braxton before? It’s still such a shame it took his passing for me to put his name on the page. Still, he was a minority, Chihuahua, an only child, and he loved me even in stories. To Understand Braxton’s Writes.

Wednesday, May 26, 2021

Gospel 329 ~To Understand Braxton’s Writes~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and like any other American, I have the right to remain silent. I won’t, though, nope.

If I had my way, to fulfill a “promise” I made to Madam Justice. I would much rather talk about Copious Cleavage, Titanic Ta-tas, Supersized Slobber Knockers. Indeed my shame. So if it’s not going to be about “stuff and thangs.” If you don’t understand by now, my euphemism for sex. I wish I could forget about my rage and wrath at the Day Job. Inspector Echo, that’s a lie because the only person I hate more than the ASM and my father at this point is myself. For the high crime, I won’t shut up about. I killed my son. It’s been 115 days. Braxton still appears, if not the main subject of my blogging, journaling, confessing. Pray tell, is this Exhibit A?

Did I tell you I killed Braxton twice? My first offering writing with Camp NaNoWriMo in April was to end Bastian “Barks” Bennett. Bastian was the adopted Mexican child of the main protagonist. Antagonist… Father Win William Bridgman. Novels mourn freely. While on the subject of Camp NaNoWriMo, I believe the next one is in July. I intend to write about the real Braxton Barks Bradford but is it out of love or laziness? I want to put the letters I’ve been writing to him in it, but that means so much of the work’s complete. Not only do I feel like a cheater but to exploit Braxton in such a way. My tragedy, my woe, “Is It A Crime” Inspector. One more for the list.

As you know, it’s sort of hard to be into “stuff and thangs” when all I do is mourn B III. I signed up again for “stuff and thangs,” what was it Friday, and they rejected me. It’s still Saturday, and you’re the fourth girl I’ve talked to. Yes, this week sucks… is it worse? Inspector, I should have spoken to Braxton more, even if it meant writing less. What was it? Four years ago I started writing about, you know who. And every day since it’s been these words, these words, these words Echo. They have power, and fuck what I wanted to do, I want them to bring Braxton back… they never do. Keeping love alive, rather than hate. To Understand Braxton’s Writes

115 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 206 ~Willing The Days Away~

Facebook was closed for a minute. Well, more like I got logged off, and then I found out why. Seems like many places have been closing or under scrutiny. Now here I am, open book and all being driven crazy by paranoia. Willing The Days Away, hmm

Saturday, January 23, 2021

Gospel 206 ~Willing The Days Away~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how many days have I given away to get here. As “The 13th Warrior” put it, “I have squandered my days with plans of many things.” Around this time last week, I had no idea the storm that I’d unleashed because I look at myself as a bad man, okay. I have my vices like anyone else, though one has been tempered somewhat with “events.” My usual anger, my fire has been snuffed by my depression. It’s like I’m drowning. Now that leads me to a third sin… I’m breathing.

That’s dark, and of course, you’re not Inspector Echo. I’m all into time-travel, not that it makes much difference nowadays. It’s not that I’m living in the present. The past is only full of regret and the future, to quote another movie “John Q” well “There’s only two ways out of here. Jail or dead.” Not the most appealing options, I must say Lady Luna. What are the chances, though, and in keeping with the movies “The Empire Strikes Back,” there’s this? “Never tell me the odds.” I would say I’m getting lazier… breathing’s difficult. Damn, it feels closer to impossible. You want to hear something really STUPID? It could all be for nothing. Every day I read up on other criminals, and I think about “All These Things That I’ve Done.” I opened my eyes, that’s it. My Lady, I opened my fucking eyes.

“Oh god, I’d rather you were blind” that’s from A Knight’s Tale or maybe my Dæmon. Okay, that’s mean, he would never wish me harm. Yet I’m hurting him by wishing it upon myself now. Living each day hoping that I will actually scare myself to death and find peace. It almost worked last night when Facebook was all wonky. Only this morning, I found out Facebook itself had been hacked and flooded with…I wish I could go back to free speech and all. In some ways, I believed it would be a closed fist that would be my end. Nope, I opened my eyes, and where did that land me? What am I doing every morning? I say I’m an open book with a mind to match, and what do I find waiting. My hands are, you guessed it, wide open, and then what?

I’m still free for now, only Willing The Days Away.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 199 ~Black And Blue Will~

Now I’m sure I talked about my Dæmon last week but what about me? Am I ever so selfish? More like another dreaded S-Word, and of course, there’s another word that might offer some release. Food, Fun, um… Nah. Black and Blue Will

Saturday, January 16, 2021

Gospel 199 ~Black And Blue Will~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but how can that be true when I got eight hours of sleep last night. Even now, my eyes are still red. So um, more excuses? Don’t mind if I do. I would say my mind is in gray fog, but no, I’m crystal clear on what I want. Yet another reason I’m talking to you so late. It’s not COVID as the song goes… “It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine.” This brings me to the red, white, and blue? How about my STUPIDITY of BLM. Black Lives Matter or Blue Lives Matter, oh duh, am I right?

Now I apologize that Black and Blue doesn’t have the same zing as Black and Yellow. I’m no Wiz Khalifa. It’s hard to make rhymes when my brain is fighting all the time. Of course, sitting on my ass all the livelong day, suppose my brain figured something needed punishment. Now from one head to another. Cherry, a LONG TIME AGO, would have asked why I’m punishing myself. Let’s just say somethings are very blue. This probably explains why I looked up Rei Ayanami earlier (Blue Hair). Blonde, brunette, redhead, EVERYONE!!! Lady Luna, did I mention the latest book I’m reading? I’m trying to be a “good boy,” so I can’t tell you the title. Anyway, it’s by Maximo Montoya. Hell, he’s a saint in comparison to Nakayohi Mogudan. I’m sure I butchered that, but hey, the art has words…

Oh, and you know I can do worse but again, let’s start with my STUPIDITY with flags, Well the color blue, ok Lu. You know I’m in 100% support of Black Lives Matter. Of course, Blue Lives Matter are some racists, so and so’s. In conclusion, the letters match (mind-blown). I hate having to write when I miss something so obvious. Yeah, when I’m writing anything at all. Which at this moment are all the artists I’m going to bankroll. No wonder my belly is like a void. Yeah, I know what hungry is, even starving. $500 of green… However, I remain a greedy SOB. Why am I going to spend coin on my stomach? There are other parts of the anatomy that interest me. Yeah, my poor blues. Hopefully not the Po-Po. I’m not a Trumptard, just a black man. Black And Blue Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Gospel 192 ~Will Seconds That Emotion~

My firstborn is good, or at least the vet didn’t say anything and handed me more of his meds. My second Saturday of the new year starts off like the others, nuclear pop and me being lazy. Will Seconds That Emotion, but I’m usually DEAD last

Saturday, January 9, 2021

Gospel 192 ~Will Seconds That Emotion~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I bet that still wouldn’t be enough. No, I wouldn’t convince Spotify about how much I like or, let’s say, am annoyed at Old School Soul. Considering I looked up Smokey Robinson right now, I’m not helping my case. As if I would do anything to help myself? Didn’t I say when it comes to caring about me, “I rather stay home in bed?” The Day Job, the Dæmon, or the “daddy” (take that however you like). I’m always wide awake and raring to go. I always come second, Lu.

Now “a second” isn’t always a bad thing. Only people think I’m STUPID, SLOW, or I SUCK because I need a few dozen. That is when it comes to me. Hell, I want to go all Rod Stewart and scream, “Do Ya Think I’m (you know). I’m a discombobulated Elliot Moore. My second, of course, isn’t a wifey like Alma Moore. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve now turned to 2008’s “The Happening.” Anyway, my second is my Dæmon. As he lies here nestled against my legs, I wonder how he puts up with me at all. SIGH, senior years. Seconds tick by, and what am I doing with them besides sitting here. Again I was up so early yesterday to make sure the Imp got to the vet. Doesn’t matter how long I sleep. It’s as if I never rest. I rather become Tony Stark than Elliot Moore. Um yeah, he had Pepper Potts.

Trump’s seconds haven’t been “decent” people until recently. Pence, I mean damn, and I’m trying so hard only to say her name… Stormy Daniels. In their own times, they might have staved off the apocalypse. How did I become the leader of a billion fans/men? In my continuing efforts to not put black women second. Or not listen to another rich white guy. I can say I feel a bit like Iris Bennet. Ok, maybe I have a type, and yes, you should invest in Pop Culture quips. Again um, I put everyone first, and I ain’t even second here. I’m last when it comes to the artist’s work I want to buy this morning, for what purpose hmm. Last, as I see the stores empty out. Why is that?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_81dBIElu_g

Wish I could say I was Dauntless or Abnegation. I’m Factionless. Will Seconds That Emotion

I Will Have No Fear