It certainly was unusual last evening to get away on such an early ─ yet dark ─ evening five-mile+ walk. I think I was away before 6:30 p.m. following a can of Cariboo malt (8% alcohol) and maybe a couple ounces of spiced rum.
I achieved the bit of grocery shopping I wanted done once I was a mile or so from returning home, although for some bizarre reason the vitamin B12 supplement I meant to buy was off limits because that section of the pharmacy was cordoned off due to the floor being slippery.
I was actually back home before my younger brother showed up following his socializing after he had gotten back from his overnight visit to his friend Frank H. over on the Island.
And so I had control of the T.V. when he did show up.
Through our Android TV Box, I was to tune in for us an episode of The Jonathan Ross Show ─ the thus-far final episode (the seventh) of season or series 20. I guess next time we'll have to watch the first episode of the current season or series 31 of The Graham Norton Show.
After Jonathan Ross, I tuned in American Ninja Warrior ─ this one was season 15's episode five Qualifiers Course six.
Once we were to have seen all of the episodes, my intention was that we would begin watching Australian Ninja Warrior's 2023 season ─ but the series was cancelled, I have learned.
We loved that series. And adored Olivia Vivian!
Anyway, last night we didn't watch anything specific after Amercian Ninja Warrior ─ just YouTube videos. Even so, I doubt that we shut down any earlier than 1:30 a.m.
By then I had only added two more cans of malt to my total drinks, but it has been awhile since I have imbibed that much alcohol. Of course, breaking from the drinking with that shopping walk probably gave me a dry span well exceeding two hours, so after some supper, it was basically as if I was starting my drinking afresh.
My wife never did come home. And her chequing account is still over $1,800 in the negative (see yesterday's post about that).
This morning's T.V. with my brother began with Odessa Orlewicz's 35-minute video from Saturday: Canadian Mom Gets Payout For Extreme Bells Palsy & Talks About The Abuse She Endured Before Payout.
Interview with a covid vaccine victim that finally got a payout after years of hell (but not all of it yet.) She will also be suing the federal government. These stories are so important as Trudeau's and Tam's BS "No One Will Be Left Behind" fund could care less about Canadians and makes them jump hoops in their darkest hours. Carrie talks about the abuse.
Then it was to Rumble for a 41-minute video streamed three days ago to Laura-Lynn Tyler Thompson's channel: Era of Champions with Pastor Art Pawlowski & Lance Wallnau.
This is Pastor Art Pawlowski and Lance Wallnau’s opening remarks at the recent Era of Champions event.
The opening several minutes featuring stirring footage of the 2022 Freedom Convoy early that year was fabulous to see, but I did not care at all for the sappy couple of songs that followed.
Laura-Lynn was entertaining when she came on stage, but after she introduced both Art Pawlowski and Lance Wallnau and they then took the stage together, the video became a theatrical farce.
These guys are truly delusional if they actually think that the Canadian people are going to recover Canada ─ even with God's help. It ain't gonna happen ─ far, far worse is coming that will see North America essentially ruined.
I also found their on-stage phoney prayer to be nothing but an utterly offensive performance ─ again, sheer theatrics. It smacked of those ludicrous tent and T.V. evangelists engaging is the utmost overacting.
So overall, this video was most disappointing. I would never support pastors or ministers who carried on like these two did together.
Ridding the taste of that video, I next tuned in an episode of Peaky Blinders ─ this one was season or series six's episode five ("The Road to Hell"). I will just say that I cannot imagine it possible for Arthur Shelby to be able to be more disgusting than he was in this episode when he 'made' one of his subservients garrote a soccer (football) umpire who was too honest and principled to agree to 'fix' an upcoming match.
My brother and I finished up with an episode of Barry ─ this one was the premiere episode ("yikes") of season four.
I don't believe my brother bed-rested very much afterwards before leaving for the day to socialize. I did have a short early afternoon nap.
The day has been very wet at times, but here in the early evening I am venturing that the rain may have ceased. I will be rising at 1:30 a.m. to ready for a five-mile+ walk, so it would be somewhat nice to be able to have a regular exercise session at the elementary school playground three of four blocks from here. I cannot do it if it is pouring rain.
I am now going to take a break and finally attempt to phone needy Sandy W., my late old friend William's long-time ladyfriend.
The call was successfully performed, and lasted maybe 35 minutes. But it reduced my available early T.V. viewing time while I had some supper and a Cariboo malt. All I was to watch was an episode of Cybill ─ this time, season three's episode four ("It's for You, Mrs. Lincoln").
Then I just let some YouTube videos randomly play.
There was an interesting visitation during Cybill.
The doorbell rang, and normally I might not have responded, but my youngest stepson was at home with his girlfriend in the boys' den area.
It turned out to be a fairly tall and very attractive accented young South Asian woman delivering an Amazon Prime package for that youngest stepson.
She passed the package to me, wheres normally these Amazon Prime drivers just ring the bell and run off, leaving the package at the door ─ they do not wait for a response.
It turned out that the very attractive young woman was in dire need of a toilet. Poor thing! I can imagine how daring it had to be for her to ask a solitary White man if she could come into his house to use his bathroom ─ she had no idea if anyone else was here.
And the bathroom was upstairs ─ I directed her to the dark stairs and explained that the bathroom was at the end of the short dark hallway. Only as she tentatively headed up the stairs did I think to courteously flick on the light.
She tended to her need, while I resumed playing the episode of Cybill.
When she finished, she came back downstairs and expressed her gratitude as she left, heading out to her Amazon Prime truck parked out on the street, and all lit up and still running.
It is after 9 p.m. ─ I must wrap this up and soon get to bed.
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