While awaiting my younger brother's arrival home last evening from his daily socializing, among other things I watched an episode of FBI ─ this time, season five's episode 11 ("Heroes"). This is a series that I watch on my own.
Once my brother was home, we were to watch an episode each of three series, beginning with The Flash ─ this time it was season seven's episode 10 ("Family Matters, Part 1").
Boy, we have two more seasons to get through before the series finale!
The second show we watched was an episode of Doc Martin ─ this episode was series (i.e., season) three's episode three. Apparently the episodes in this series (season) were originally given two titles. In the instance of this episode: "City Slickers" in the U.K.; and over in the States, "Love Thy Neighbor".
My brother and I normally are very respectful of Doc Martin's shrewd medical prowess, but this episode ─ originally aired in October 2007 ─ was sheer inoculation propaganda worthy of the present day where so-called 'medical authorities' blatantly lie about the safety and effectiveness of the toxic substances being inflicted upon the ignorant and uninformed masses of our world's populace.
I actually squirmed with the discomfort of what Doc Martin was preaching concerning the poisons his ilk administered in their day.
The final show that I tuned in (all were via our Android TV Box) was Kevin Can F**k Himself ─ the premiere episode ("Mrs. McRoberts Is Dead") of season two.
This morning my brother and I watched alternate fare on T.V., beginning with a livestream today of well over an hour (1:12:51) to Rumble's childrenshealthdefense channel: Healthy Babies Don’t Just Die.
What is the true story behind Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS)? Do babies really just die without cause in their cribs? After experiencing the tragic loss of their children, Leigh Griffin and Kari Bundy began to dig into these mysterious fatalities and discovered a shocking reality. Tune in to ‘Good Morning CHD’ to find out what they uncovered!
It was a very good episode. These two mothers truly are inspiring.
I followed this with a 59-minute addition yesterday to BitChute's TheCrowhouse channel: Our Time Is Now.
Max Igan ─ much like Chrristopher James Pritchard ─ generally covers so much in each video that detailing one is more work than I dare engage.
Some of Max's apparent beliefs are outside what I am presently able to countenance, but he is always interesting.
My brother sought some bed rest following the video; and even though I decided to refrain from my first meal until after a nap and some sunning, I had still not returned to bed before my brother emerged from his bedroom and left for the day.
Despite my nap, I was out into the backyard a little ahead of 2 p.m. for a little under 1½ hours of sunning. However, after I came back into the house and had that meal, it wiped me out ─ I had to nap again.
This is pathetic.
I have since had a bath, which consumes considerable time. I hate having one for that reason, so even having one every fourth day still makes me reluctant to yield the time ─ it robs me of time for any possible exercising, and also tends to limit my blogging time.
I am unsure what I am going to do with my latter evening. I have thought about getting out for a long walk with some shopping, but even the bath has sapped me. I may just retire early enough to make rising at 1:45 a.m. for a five-mile walk reasonably palatable.
Perhaps I can make the evening excursion if I get some rest for the sake of my eyes, mostly. But it is already nigh 8:30 p.m., and I am not leaving myself much time for recuperation ─ I would need to leave on any evening walk before my brother's return.
Tomorrow's post ought to bear the tale of just exactly what fell out.
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