💀☠💀☠💀☠ Putin Over Trudeau

Despite often claiming that I will be in bed by 9 p.m., I usually miss that target. Thus last evening. It was probably more like 9:15 p.m., if not later.

When my 1:30 a.m. cellphone alarm chimed to get me up to ready for a five-mile+ walk, it entirely roused me from probable sleep. I was to discover that my wife was not yet home.

However, a 1:48 a.m. online check of the claimed temperature hereabouts yielded -1° Celsius (30.2° F.), which was extremely unexpectedly low by me; and then I heard what was correctly presumed by me to be my wife awkwardly attempting to unlock the front door.

I was secluded behind my closed bedroom door, even though I was almost set to leave for my walk.

Then when I thought that she might be in her bedroom, I slyly opened my bedroom door and peered towards her open bedroom doorway as I was about to sneak down the stairs ... and there she was in her housecoat pantomiming my stealth as she ─ mugging her face with great comical theatrical effect as she can so richly do ─ exaggeratedly slunk up the first few steps of the stairway.

She had been downstairs in the kitchen, and I was now found out.

I enjoyed that. My wife is very dear to me, despite our impaired marriage and relationship. When she realized that I was about to embark on a walk, she counselled head wear, and cautioned that I be safe.

I do not remember the time, but I suspect that it was not yet 2 a.m. So maybe 1:50 a.m.?

The sky was partially clear, but it was chilly and dry out. Nevertheless, I was not feeling limber, so when I achieved the nearby elementary school playground three or four blocks away and found the equipment wet with not yet frozen condensation, I had no motivation to dampen my gloves or otherwise inconvenience myself so early into my walk for exercise that I could justifiably have later in the morning at home in the backyard tool shed.

I did engage 11 declined push-ups on a cement ramp, though. As described yesterday, I lower myself until my thighs, hips, lower rib cage and chest ─ and even my chin ─ are just brushing the concrete sufficiently to be aware of the contact, before pushing myself back up to an elbows-locked position.

Anyway, I had my walk without any incident that I can recall. When was I back? Gosh, maybe six minutes under two hours of having left?

And I was back to bed soon after 5:30 a.m., I believe.

I was to later be awake ahead of 8 a.m., but I held off rising until something like 8:20 a.m. Even so, I felt terribly underslept for the second consecutive morning.

My younger brother was to rise and access the T.V. before 9 a.m., so when I did finally join him soon after the hour with an impossibly large (and good) lineup of videos for us to watch, he had ─ as he always does at 9 a.m. ─ the Global's The Morning Show playing, featuring hosts Jeff McArthur and Carolyn MacKenzie.

As far as I am concerned, as attractive as Carolyn definitely is, the pair are both airheads who laugh outrageously at practically every sentence their co-host says ─ it is contrived garbage. And they have little to say about anything unrelated to entertainment in any of its guises.

My brother launders on Fridays as a rule, so when he ditched me to go to the laundry facilities while some pathetic sequence was playing concerning brands of "doggie ice-cream", with "Furry Friday" viewer photos of their pets to come, I could stomach no more.

I came upstairs to my bedroom where I keep my T.V. And even though I fought off the inclination to just return to bed and to leave my brother with the brain rot he felt was T.V. entertainment, I held off to see if he would seek my return.

Also, I knew that he was likely going to be leaving around 10:10 a.m. to go and pick up his girlfriend Bev to drive her to work.

Well, the prick held fast and never sought me up, finally leaving and turning off the T.V.

I did consider going to bed, but I still desired the half dozen sets of pull-ups and chin-ups that I denied myself earlier during my outing. Those of course rather vitalized me, as did 15 full-range push-ups on the shed's wooden floor.

So I tuned in what I had been watching on my own in my bedroom while my brother had been wallowing in T.V. drivel ─ the superb two-hour interview that Tucker Carlson had two or three evenings ago with Vladimir Putin: Exclusive: Tucker Carlson Interviews Vladimir Putin.

Watch Tucker's immediate reaction to the interview here: https://bit.ly/3SxeZBY

Tucker interviews Vladimir Putin in Moscow, Russia. February 6th, 2024.

Follow Tucker on X: https://x.com/TuckerCarlson

From what I saw, I truly believe that I would rather have Putin over foppy Trudeau as my country's leader. I trust Putin more.

I had watched 36 minutes of the video (2:07:18) here at my bedside computer before my brother had left, so I began playing from there on T.V. via our Android TV Box.

Of course my brother joined me when he returned, unaware that there had even been such an interview ─ I guess The Morning Show boobs never informed him of it.

Thanks to its length and the time that was lost because I forsook my brother's T.V. ideas of entertainment around 9:10 a.m., we were to have no time to watch anything else.

He sought some bed rest, and after I had a very filling midday meal, he left for the day early in the afternoon. I was still up when my wife emerged from her bedroom.

I realized that she would be working as of the latter afternoon, so I did not officially shut myself up in my bedroom to nap. Rather, I left the door ajar by maybe four inches and did my best to relax into what napping might be possible over the next hour to hour-and-a-half.

She and I are extremely bummed by her London Life insurance company contact who a week or so ago had texted her that her monthly premiums would be getting reduced from nearly $300 monthly to just under $100.

That was to take place today (the 9th). And so I ensured that she had $117 in her account to amply cover it.

Well, guess what? The buggers attempted a debit of something like $185, which of course was not there, so the transaction was rejected ─ and the $117 in her account was penalized by our financial institution with a $48 non-sufficient funds charge.

So she still owes her London Life payment, yet we are out $48 because her agent lied to us.

I hope Hell is extremely large for everyone who deserves to be there!

The day has been quite sunny, so tonight will likely be chilly again.

I embarked upon a Sabbath fast, although I did drink after sunset. I had tuned in a 2017 Christmas movie in the late afternoon because I was feeling anxious and despondent.

The movie was Christmas in the Air.

It was not quite my best loved Christmas movie plot, but I eventually got there with the help of two cans of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol) and a shot of Kraken Black Spiced Rum (47% alcohol).

I am no huge Catherine Bell fan, but I do appreciate her a whole lot. So maybe I am a fan?

Much of what this movie impacted me with was attributable to young actress Trinity Likens ─ what a beautiful young thing! And I had no idea until researching her just now that she also has the role of "Jellybean" Jones in the T.V. series Riverdale that my brother and I are deep into.

When Trinity's character finally had her school play towards the conclusion of the Christmas movie was when I truly opened up emotionally ─ the tears absolutely flowed for so many of the losses that I have incurred over the majority of my life. Until then, the tears had only trickled on occasion.

I sometimes believe that if there had been a young girl-child involved throughout my later adult life, I might be a far better man today.

Anyway, if you are curious about checking out the movie, I can probably safely recommend this link at Hura!Movies.

I will be having an early a.m. walk in the morning, so since it is already past 9 p.m., I am calling it quits for today. My youngest stepson just recently presented me with two pieces of pizza; and since I only had my last meal during the noon hour, it is tempting to dispatch those two pizza slices now instead of holding out until after dark tomorrow.