In lieu of a movie early last evening, I instead phoned Sandy, the ladyfriend of my late old friend William A.G. It is a social gesture that I feel compelled to make from time to time. I phone nobody else outside of my family.
What I did watch before my younger brother arrived home from his daily socializing was the first episode of season five of The Avengers ─ this was the very first colour episode, and Diana Rigg's second season as Emma Peel. As I hope was surmised, I had previously gotten through the fourth season (or series, as the seasons are referred to in the U.K.).
What an impact Diana Rigg as Emma Peel had on this teen back in the 1960s! It may be hard to fathom, but I passionately loved the woman for two full years, often fantasizing about one day uniting with her in an almost Apocalyptic world by crossing paths with her in Hyde Park.
It would of course be a highly-charged dramatic and action-themed meeting and bonding that was designed to fast become romantic ─ that by my own design; and it would be a romantic bonding that would last a lifetime, for we were to have a courageous struggle together against the forces of Darkness in the Biblical End Times which I believed back then would befall the world in approximately a decade's time.
In other words, that End Times scenario might strike as early as the mid-1970s; but if not, then certainly within the decade thereafter.
Believe me, when I say that I often wonder how it is that I have lived as long as I have, it is the truth. Considering my world view as a teen, I might have correctly been adjudged as being mentally ill.
But properly delving into all of that would require far more time than I have in this post, so I shall speak no further of it.
After my brother was later home last evening, I was to enjoy two cans of the strong (8% alcohol) malt that I keep in stock while continuing to use our Android TV Box to watch an episode each of Batwoman, The Graham Norton Show, and Yellowstone ─ we finished watching the first season of that latter series last night.
I am unsure how much longer my brother is going to put up with me playing episodes of Batwoman ─ why the Hell are 50% or more of the recurring characters homosexual? This gets unrealistically ludicrous, and I am growing sick myself of having homosexuality stuffed down my throat.
This morning my brother and I watched T.V. videos of a different sort, beginning with yesterday's livestream to Rumble's A Warrior Calls channel ─ the video was in excess of 1¼ hours: Truth Is Unleashed Prepare To Fight Evil.
See Dr. William Makis articles featured in live stream - https://makismd.substack.com/
Then I tuned in a 27-minute video uploaded on March 4 to Rumble's Action4Canada channel: Schools & Children: Caught in the Transgender Industry's Web.
How the transgender industry has captured our schools and children via money, activism, propaganda, and marketing.
The video was rather timely in relation to my aforementioned thoughts on Batwoman.
The final video we watched was the last half hour or so of the BitChute documentary that I mentioned in yesterday's post that we had to take leave of due to how late it was running, for it was 1½ hours (1:32:36) in length: The Chernobyl Disaster.
The Chernobyl Disaster was a nuclear accident that occurred on Saturday 26 April 1986, at the No. 4 reactor in the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant, near the city of Pripyat in the north of the Ukrainian SSR. It is considered the worst nuclear disaster in history and is one of only two nuclear energy disasters rated at seven—the maximum severity—on the International Nuclear Event Scale, the other being the 2011 Fukushima Daiichi nuclear disaster in Japan.
Earlier in the morning today my brother had to leave to pick up his girlfriend Bev at 10 a.m. to drive her to work, affording me the opportunity to hie out to the backyard tool shed for some exercising ─ I had weighed 197 pounds fully dressed and wearing runners.
Unfortunately, I could not quite match my present ceiling of repetitions in the six sets of pull-ups and chin-ups section. I had thought that I might manage three repetitions in the third set, but after two I was depleted. Thus: 4 - 3 - 2 - 2 - 2 - 2.
I have over 10 pounds of flab that I need to divest myself of ─ a loss of more would definitely be better.
Anyway, following the morning T.V. which actually brought my brother and I into the noon hour, he sought some bed rest to shore himself up for his imminent departure to engage his daily socializing; and he left while I was in bed enjoying a needed nap.
The earliest morning had been quite overcast, but the day became fairly sunny and that mixed state prevailed.
I am unsure what I am going to do with my evening. Rest up again and get out for a local walk; or retire to my bed early and rise at 2 a.m. for a far more private walk with a dramatic reduction in annoying traffic and other pedestrians?
I am leaning heavily towards the latter course.
We shall see.
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