💀☠💀☠💀☠ What a Difference

My wife never did touch the $200 I had arranged to be available in our joint account yesterday morning, so somehow she made do with the $300 in cash I gave (or hopefully only loaned) her.

Anyway, yes, there was debauchery since my last post. Instead of going to bed sensibly last night after watching shows with my younger brother, I remained up until after 4 a.m. ─ possibly even after 5 a.m.

I can be so damned disgusting.

Nevertheless, I was up this morning shortly after 8:30 a.m., and as yet my brother had not emerged from his bedroom. However, he was to do so in time to take control of the T.V. by 9 a.m.

I never joined him until maybe 9:15 a.m., by which time he was ready to let me take over and tune features in with our Android TV Box. I led us off with a May 14, 2016, upload to YouTube's Real Stories channel, a video of 47 minutes (47:42) duration: The Boy They Call Chucky (Full Documentary) | Real Stories.

Twelve-year-old Christian Cunniffe has beaten up his entire family. He's set fire to his bedroom, stabbed his sister with a knitting needle and hit his mother seventeen times with a plank of wood.

The documentary was much older than 2016 ─ apparently it was released in 2005. I did some further research and found that quite early in June of last year, "Chucky" ─ then 29 or 30 years old ─ was sentenced to 15 months in jail for battery of his pregnant live-in girlfriend (I did not get the impression that they were married).

He would surely have been released by now, but I was not inclined to waste a lot of time trying to find out.

I'm curious abut what became of his older sister, Natasha.

Next I fired up a nearly hour-long movie in the old Edgar Wallace Mysteries ─ the episode was November 1963's Accidental Death. I must say, lead actress Jacqueline Ellis had some appeal from my perspective.

And I have just now realized that her character in Accidental Death actually was responsible for the deaths of the two men who fell into the swimming pool and were electrocuted at the end of the movie ─ she basically pushed them into the pool.

I have also just now found that my brother and I watched the actress in a considerably earlier episode of the same series ─ Never Back Losers.

My source for Accidental Death was here at OK.ru, if interested.

Between the "Chucky" documentary and Accidental Death, my brother had to nip out and pick up his girlfriend Bev two miles away and drive her to work. I certainly did not have much feel for the activity that freed me up to engage, but I dutifully went out to the backyard tool shed for three sets of pull-ups and chin-ups: five pull-ups in the first set, then three chin-ups in the middle set, and finally three pull-ups between two bars in the last set, with the very last pull-up held at highest elevation for a 20-count.

I then performed 13 slow full-range push-ups on the wooden floor.

My brother and I finsihed our T.V. viewing with an episode of W1A ─ "Episode 3" of series or season three. I didn't find the episode as interesting as usual, but the ending was intriguing. Why did actress Sarah Parish's character pass out in the cab with her co-worker Ian Fletcher?

My brother sought bed rest following the episode. I had my day's first meal, and was to bed for a very needed nap during which he emerged from his bedroom and left for the day.

I thought ─ with Christmas so near ─ that despite needing to get to bed fairly early this evening so that I could rise tonight at 1:30 a.m. and ready for a five-mile+ walk, that perhaps I could squeeze in a Christmas movie and some drinks.

And then I remembered that today is a scheduled bath day. I only bathe every four days, and it involves a shave and scalp shave, and this time even finger and toe nail clippings. Consequently, overall I was probably going to consume a precious hour.

I also wanted some light exercising.

So all I managed was an episode of Chesapeake Shores ─ episode nine ("What a Difference a Day Makes") of season five. I was feeling a lot of tension and anxiety, so during the episode I had a shot of Kraken Black Spiced Rum (47% alcohol) ere having my supper, and then I put down a can of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol).

It is now 9 p.m., and I barely feel the drink. But I must exercise restraint, and hope I manage some decent sleep before my 1:30 a.m. alarm.

Will my wife be showing up later? I don't know.

That's enough blogging for today.