No Appeal

There is absolutely no question about it ─ I must not watch further Christmas movies if I have a wee a.m. five-mile+ walk planned.

I certainly enjoyed last evening's Runaway Christmas Bride, but the toll that drinking three cans of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol) and one of Bumper Crop cider (7% alcohol) in just under 1½ hours was physiologically devastating overnight.

I hope that I got to bed ahead of 10 p.m., for I kept my cellphone alarm set for 1:30 a.m. to get me up to ready for the outing. But when that time arrived, I believe that I felt even worse than I did two nights earlier when I abused myself similarly the evening before.

I was nearly incredulous at feeling as hungover and sleep-deprived as I was ─ going anywhere was not possible.

So I set the alarm for 4 a.m. and sought more sleep.

I was to find myself awake enough before that hour arrived that I checked the time at well before then and grudgingly rose to begin the readying process. Alas, I now lack recollection of any precise times. I neither remember what the time was when I left, nor when I returned, except that I believe that the outing took two hours and six minutes ─ identical to two nights earlier when I was in similar shape.

Before I left I had weighed myself ─ sans jacket ─ expecting to see evidence of a lot of retained fluid, but I could scarcely believe my eyes. Instead of weighing 185 or even more pounds, the analogue scale's needle was maybe just a sliver over 180 pounds.

This just did not seem possible.

As good as that news was, it was inconceivable to be stopping at the elementary school playground three or so blocks away to exercise, so I passed on by and hoped ─ just as I had two nights earlier ─ that by the time I had returned that way, my recovery would be complete enough to allow of the activity.

I recall nothing of significance about the walk, except that the three pages of Affidavit of Identity information was gone that I had printed out and left for homeless Charles "Stickman" McCarthy at an appointed place alongside 100th Avenue and just inside the Green Timbers Urban Forest.

I had forgotten to take a look two nights ago, so I do not know if the bundle was still there then.

I did normalize on the walk, so I made the stop at the school. However, I do believe that only because I knew my clothed body weight to be lighter than it usually was, did I manage to achieve all of the latest highs in the repetition totals of the six sets of pull-ups and chin-ups.

So: 8-2-3-3-2-2. The first two sets were pull-ups, and the middle two sets were chin-ups. The final two sets were pull-ups between a pair of gymnastics-style rings, and I was able to hold the very final pull-up of those at highest elevation for a 35-count.

It had been necessary to wipe a jungle gym monkey bar dry of plentiful condensation for the first four sets.

And after all six sets, I ventured over to the nearby cement ramp and managed to eke out 14 full-range decline push-ups, vocalizing my strain at the end.

It was so good to be done! And at my age of 74, to have survived yet another excruciating output.

Note that no one was up when I left for the walk, although my eldest stepson is away this long Labour Day weekend. He left in the early afternoon of Friday with some friends, apparently, and they all were going to Tacoma, according to my brother. No one else mentioned a thing to me about the trip.

My wife had come home last night after I had first gotten to bed, and she was to have another full workday again today at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time. She rose around 9:30 a.m. this morning and left at 10:10 a.m. at most on her fairly long drive.

I didn't rise until well after 9 a.m., and was not to get my brother's invitation until 9:50 a.m. to take over the T.V. and operate our Android TV Box.

When I did do so, I led us off with a 48-minute (48:20) video uploaded back on August 25, 2016, to YouTube's Real Stories channel: Sex Gangs of Britain (True Crime Documentary) | Real Stories.

Research suggests that thousands of children are potentially being sexually exploited by street grooming gangs. This may only be the tip of the iceberg, as experts believe many crimes of this nature go unreported.  Journalist Tazeen Ahmad investigates street grooming and hears from community leaders who say enough is enough and demand action on the issue. She meets victims of grooming and their parents, whose lives have been torn apart.

Darn! I have just discovered that the attractive hostess journalist in that video died of cancer in November 2019.

As I watched the documentary, I kept having the likes of movie fiction Charles Bronson / Liam Neeson vigilantes come to mind.

We still had maybe 15 - 20 minutes remaining of a video I had recorded onto a thumb or flash drive (we had to suspend watching the feature possibly back on Wednesday), so I tuned it in. Originally 56 minutes (56:24), it had been uploaded on December 21, 2015, to YouTube's Proper Gander channel: Stonehenge - Secret Teachings Documentary.

Stonehenge is a prehistoric monument located in Wiltshire, England, about 2 miles (3 km) west of Amesbury and 8 miles (13 km) north of Salisbury. One of the most famous sites in the world, Stonehenge is the remains of a ring of standing stones set within earthworks. It is in the middle of the most dense complex of Neolithic and Bronze Age monuments in England, including several hundred burial mounds.

Archaeologists believe it was constructed from 3000 BC to 2000 BC, though many believe they may have uncovered or decoded this as a hoax. The surrounding circular earth bank and ditch, which constitute the earliest phase of the monument, have been dated to about 3100 BC. Radiocarbon dating in 2008 suggested that the first blue stones were raised between 2400 and 2200 BC. Another theory suggests the blue stones may have been raised at the site as early as 3000 BC.

The site and its surroundings were added to the UNESCO's list of World Heritage Sites in 1986 in a co-listing with Avebury Henge. It is a national legally protected Scheduled Ancient Monument. Stonehenge is owned by the Crown and managed by English Heritage, while the surrounding land is owned by the National Trust.

Archaeological evidence found by the Stonehenge Riverside Project in 2008 indicates that Stonehenge could have been a burial ground from its earliest beginnings. The dating of cremated remains indicate that deposits contain human bone from as early as 3000 BC, when the ditch and bank were first dug. Such deposits continued at Stonehenge for at least another 500 years.

If I am remembering correctly, the first parts of the video were two smaller Stonehenge documentaries prefacing a much longer one.

We finished our morning viewing with a 27-minute (27:06) video uploaded on March 2, 2023, to YouTube's The Why Files channel: The Most Destructive Weapon Tesla Ever Made.

On June 30th, 1908, a mysterious explosion shook the remote Siberian region of Tunguska. The blast flattened 80 million trees across 800 square miles. Every plant, every animal, every insect in the blast radius was vaporized. The shockwave was felt as far away as England.

It looked like a comet impact, yet, no crater was found and no debris was discovered. Scientists still can't explain what happened.

But... at that exact moment, on the other side of the world, Nikola Telsa was conducting his latest experiment: transmitting massive amounts of electricity through the atmosphere.

Tesla activated the generators in his lab and fired up Wardenclyffe Tower for one final, dramatic test: and sent millions of volts of electricity into the sky.

After the test was complete, Telsa looked at the readings on his equipment and said: "Oh no."

The fuller description contains numerous referential links, so feel free to check it out.

It was not yet noon when the video was done, but my brother was set for some bed rest this sunny day. Even though I was undergoing a Sabbath fast, I had not yet sought a needed nap in the early afternoon when he headed off. I failed to take note if he did so on foot to catch a bus, or if he drove to run some errands and then brought the van back before busing away.

Incidentally, when he kept an 11:50 a.m. appointment yesterday at an ICBC station to have his driver's licence somehow 'reduced' by mandate, he was charged whatever the smallish fee is for that ─ maybe $17. But he was also hit with a $400 unpaid fine left over from when he had his licence restored following a previous mandated reduction (for driving under the influence).

My nap left me feeling rather unpleasant, but I did a little sunning regardless. At 2:29 p.m. I commenced nearly 1¼ hours out in the backyard. When done, and after a drink of water, I had another weigh-in ─ this time while totally naked.

My body weight seemed to be all the way down to 172 pounds.

My fast seems harder on me than usual, but that might be a result of my youngest stepson bringing me three slices of pizza that have been filling my bedroom with an overwhelmingly delicious aroma ever since I rose from my nap. And of course, I use this bedside computer for hours every day, so there is no getting away from the scent.

Right now it is 7:42 p.m. and I ought to be able to eat in an hour, so I am going to go downstairs and watch some T.V. until then.

♂♂♂♀♀♀

My selection was FBI: Most Wanted ─ specifically, episode four ("Appeal") of season four. A good one!

Not so my meal. Oh, sure, the three pieces of pizza were juicy and utterly delicious. But I followed those with a dish I assume my wife prepared last night, the watery remnant of which was still in a pot on the stove. I topped that with some of what remained in a container in the fridge ─ another dish that she likely brought home a couple of nights ago.

They were a practically bland overload that has me distinctly uncomfortable, but I have the role here of family dog ─ over the years it seems to have devolved upon me to be the one to finish off my wife's leftovers if no one else is going to do so because of snippy appetites.

Even if I was not as stuffed as I am, I would not have a beer. I am not going to jeopardize my usual Sunday routine of rising at 4 a.m. to try and be prepared for a goodly hike that will involve some grocery shopping. As further is usual, I will attempt to leave here comfortably ahead of 6 a.m. to potentially have time enough for a set each of pull-ups, chin-ups, and pull-ups on the gymnastics-style rings at that elementary school.

Too often I fail to leave in time for that relatively short stop.

I might as well call an end to this post. It is 9:30 p.m., and I need to be prepared to shut myself up here in my bedroom to avoid my younger brother if he shows up before I have gone to bed. It is nowhere near enough for bedtime yet ─ not when I sleep as poorly as I do. But 11 p.m. would be nice, if I don't feel pushed into retiring earlier due to whomever may be home ─ as yet, I have been alone since my youngest stepson took off on his motorbike while I was sunning in the afternoon.

💀☠💀☠💀☠ Runaway

After stupidly buying two 8-packs of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol) at Green Timbers Liquor Store last evening and telling the cashier to round up the tab (something just under $30) to $35 by way of me tipping, it quickly dawned upon me what an idiot I was.

I could have bought three 6-packs of the beer for $32.25 and still told the gal to round up to $35 ─ at least by having done so I would have benefitted from acquiring an extra two cans of beer.

I felt foolish about this as I left the store ─ and the state was worsened by further stupidity on my part because I first gave the gal a mere $25 when I told her to do the up-rounding to $35, so I needed to cough up a further $10.

I got back home to of course find my younger brother still watching T.V. as was the case when I left; and my wife had also been home some while after working the day at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time ─ she had done some supper cooking for everyone.

I was to only drink two beers over the course of T.V. viewing. My brother did not relinquish its control over to me until a programme he was watching ended at 11 p.m., so it developed that we were only to have time to watch one of our shows-in-common ─ Bosch. Specifically, it was episode six ("Chapter Six: Donkey's Years") of the first season.

Thereafter my brother requested "something short", so I sampled a new-to-us sitcom ─ the first episode ("Pilot" "Love") of Kath & Kim. The choice was an error ─ I had meant for us to start watching the earlier Kath & Kim Australian series.

I did actually tune in the proper series first, but I saw that it was Australian, whereas I had believed the series was supposed to be British. However, my impatient brother was sufficient annoyance enough that when I skipped out of that series to sample the later version, I just stuck with it.

I enjoyed it! I had no idea who the Kim character was, but I thought that she was effectively darned hot. And although I see that actress Selma Blair had the role, the actress's name does not conjure up anybody I can remember seeing.

Nevertheless, I checked her Wikipedia acting credits, and I was very surprised to see that quite recently my brother and I watched the 2008 movie The Poker House, and Selma played the role of the addiction-riddled prostitute mother. I had found that the mother character was unusually ... well, sexy. Now I see why ─ it was Selma in her prime.

Anyway, when the episode ended, my brother sat up a while longer watching random YouTube 1960s music videos I set to play via the SmartTube that I have downloaded into our Android TV Box.

After he called it a night, I soon enough retired to my bedroom and this bedside computer, and I remained engaged in dissolution until well past 4 a.m. before at last getting to bed.

I have not had a good day today as a result. In fact, I have felt considerable despondence.

I rose this morning shortly after 8 a.m., and already my brother was watching T.V., so I don't know when he rose. He had an ICBC appointment scheduled for something like 11:50 a.m. to see about a mandated restriction of his driver's licence.

I joined him around 8:30 a.m. to see if he would invite me to again put our Android TV Box to work, but he seemed content with his morning news programmes, so I betook myself back to my bedroom until near 9 a.m., finally getting that invitation.

I led things off with Odessa Orlewicz's 27-minute (27:51) video published yesterday: New Government/Think Tank Document Shows Posible Collapse Of Canada Coming. 2024 Policy Horizons Report.

Here is what WEF's darling Kristel Van der Elst's team that created the 2024 Policy Horizons Report for Canada sees could or will happen to Canada soon:

- Scarcity of food for a massive portion of the population.

-An EXPANSION of geoengineering to "block the sun."

- No more unity among residents.

- Violence.

- Augmented humans put a strain on healthcare.

-Increase In disease.

-Complete collapse of our healthcare

....and more fun things.

This is what they meant by "Build Back Better."

Then it was a 41-minute (41:10) video published earlier today to Rumble's C3RF channel: C3RF "In Hot" interview with analyst Julius Ruechel.

Major Russ Cooper (Ret'd) goes in-depth on Julius Ruechel's magnum opus, "Plunderers of the Earth". Forget about "climate change" being driven by a one-off flooding of the atmosphere by industrial-age CO2. There is much more involved here as revealed by Ruechel's unprecedented and authoritative research into the geological, astronomical, agricultural, political and even evolutionary factors at play with rising CO2 levels. Obscured by censorship and fraudulent, cherry-picked data, the truth of the matter is a far cry from what Canadians are being spoon-fed by their betters and talking heads in direct contravention of our Charter right to have access to information that impacts our lives.

When that video was done, my brother retired to his bedroom for some further bed rest, so I tuned in a 19-minute (19:10) video published yesterday at Rumble's A Warrior Calls channel: Massive TRUTH on Specific Jews Worldwide Destroying Everything An Amazing Speech from War Veteran!

My wife had another full workday today, so she rose around 9:20 a.m., and was on her fairly long drive no more than a half hour later.

After I had watched the last-mentioned video, I had my day's first meal, and was still seated here at my computer when my brother emerged from his bedroom and soon left for his appointment.

I had a nap that left me feeling unpleasant (along with the despondence), and although it seemed that my brother may not yet have returned home, it was a fully sunny day that I could not pass up sunning in.

And so beginning no later than 2:27 p.m., I put in a minimum of 66 minutes out in the backyard. It did not seem all that hot out there, but I did sweat rather plentifully.

When I returned into the house, my brother's van was back, but he had left and probably bused off to do some drinking somewhere.

Note that just before I began sunning, my wife texted me to ask that I transfer her the $700 from my pension money that I had weakly acquiesced to yielding to her, but I must ensure that I impress upon her that it is the very final relinquishment of any big numbers of dollars that she is going to bleed me for. As I have said, if I can get through September to my next directly deposited monthly pension, it is going to be entirely mine ─ she can forget about preying upon me to fund any of her selfish projects.

I needed the degree of emotional connectedness that is impossible in my present life, so early this evening I resorted to a Christmas movie and the drinking it would allow me ─ despite the toll watching a Christmas movie presented after I watched one just two evenings ago.

I selected 2017's Runaway Christmas Bride, and I watched it here on my bedside computer at this link at M4uHD.net, and it played through perfectly.

Honestly, I believed that I had likely seen it before, but my research came up blank of indictment, or even a mention.

And even though I was not drawn to the described plot ─ it sounded potentially farcical ─ I gambled and was to find myself with an emotionally whelming production that I do not hesitate to recommend if you love romantic Christmas movies.

Even when there is not a child to be seen!

Lead actress Cindy Busby had a familiar look to her, but I suspect that it was just that sort of almost chubby, baby-faced, blonde-haired and blue eyed look. Sure, it is possible that I've come across her work before as listed on Wikipedia, but nothing at all stands out with my cursory check.

Initially she seemed 'type cast' against the role, but I quickly gravitated to her ─ and came to love her character. It's pretty keen that she is maybe around three years older than her brawny male lead in the movie!

Yeah, I'd go for her if I was exposed to the actress for any length of time in a wholesome, nostalgic setting ─ Hell, for any sort of length of time!

I had noticed in the opening credits that the supporting actress Fiona Bloom might be favourably known to me from at least one more leading role in a Christmas movie, and I did immediately recognize her as the too officious resort hotel manager.

Happily, she was never fully villainous ─ actually, nobody was unrepentant, despite how they might have initially seemed.

Fiona can actually very effectively play one hot trim gal! Just having that nearly forgotten past impression of her made me sympathetic to her character ─ and her sexuality.

I also thought that the actress portraying the lead actress's sister was pretty hot, but I cannot identify her name, alas. It sucks when casting rosters of movies only go by bloody first names for characters ─ how am I to remember the lead actress's character's sister's first name when I cannot even recall the main character's first name?

Lord, that's confusing to write.

Anyway, yes, I enjoyed the movie, and swilled away three cans of Cariboo Malt and one of Bumper Crop cider (7% alcohol). I have to hope that my fairly small earlier supper is not going to confound me, for I want to rise at 1:30 a.m. to ready and put in a five-mile+ walk.

My brother returned home at 9:17 p.m. as I typed this late post, and suggested the weather may deteriorate.

Darned, I did not realize that my movie and drinking ran this late ─ perhaps there will be consequences.

At present it is 9:34 p.m., so I am going to shut everything down and get to bed.

Targeted Individuals

I do not believe that I indicated whether or not I enjoyed the Christmas movie Sharing Christmas that I wrote about watching early last evening. I definitely did enjoy it ─ very much. The central Christmas shop helped make the movie feel exceptionally Christmassy, which is what I particularly like.

I also wanted to mention that the movie was unusual in that the male and female lead characters were never to have the usual Christmas movie misunderstanding threatening to make their relationship a bust ─ that Christmas movie trope can get most tiresome.

But I suffered for having consumed three cans of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol) and one of Bumper Crop cider (7% alcohol) in the space of a Christmas movie not quite 1½ hours long ─ and also having a supper.

I am supposing that I may not have gotten to bed too far past 9:30 p.m., for I left my cellphone alarm set for 1:30 a.m. to get me up to ready for a five-mile+ walk. Yet due to the effects of the alcohol and the burden of my supper, when that time arrived, I felt at death's door ─ my well-being was in devastation.

Getting up to ready for a walk was unthinkable.

Instead, I reset the alarm for 2:30 a.m. to give me another hour in which maybe I might recover enough to confront the ordeal.

I likely managed a bit further sleep, but miserable as I felt, I did check the time around 2:21 a.m. and forced a rally that was to get me up from bed.

I still felt awful, but I dutifully began the readying.

No one else was up, fortunately; and my wife had not come home, so I did not have to fret about her ever bursting forth from her bedroom to use the bathroom.

Once fully dressed, sans jacket I might possibly have been a sliver below 185 pounds. And once I was outside the locked front door, it was 2:46 a.m. as I was set to begin my walk under a clear night sky. The claim online had been that the temperature was below 10º Celsius (50º Fahrenheit). No doubt single-digit night temperatures are about to become commonplace.

By the time I was approaching the elementary school three or so blocks distant, I still could not countenance the stress of exercising, so I never made that stop. I figured to do the walk and then stop in on my return, hoping that by then I would have recovered sufficiently that exercising was feasible.

I recall nothing eventful about the walk thereafter. And it did allow me to recover such that I felt relatively normal.

By the time I got back to the school and its playground, the equipment was wet with dew, so I needed to wipe dry a jungle gym monkey bar for the two sets each of pull-ups and chin-ups I would be using it for,

I don't know how I did it ─ sheer determination, and a lot of heaving and some kicking; but I managed my recent peak in the first set of pull-ups of eight repetitions, and then two in the second set.

I hit the usual three chin-ups in each of the next two sets.

And then on the gymnastics-style rings, I managed the usual two pull-ups in each of those two sets, and I held the final pull-up at peak height for a 35-count.

I even managed to extract 14 full-range decline push-ups on the nearby cement ramp.

All of this was unthinkable at the beginning of my walk. To have tried might have been the finish for this 74-year-old.

I now do not know what I am going to do about further Christmas movies, except to maybe try and watch any considerably earlier in order to give the alcohol time to burn off before bedtime. Also, I mustn't be supping just ahead of bedtime either, for it also dehydrates the body and adversely affects sleep. In combination, they can be devastating.

It was 4:52 a.m. once I was back home ─ so, about six minutes over two hours. Not great, but I've done far worse.

I was back to bed ahead of 6 a.m.

I next checked the time just ahead of 8 a.m., but was not inclined to rise quite yet. When I next checked thereafter, it was just past 9 a.m., so that was when I rose.

My brother had not yet emerged from his bedroom, but I opted to watch T.V. regardless. Employing our Android TV Box, I first watched a 12-minute (12:57) video published yesterday at the Substack of Dr. William Makis: VIDEO - CHD (Unvaccinated Richard Tormanen survived 123 days in 4 different hospitals) July 2024.

Then I was early into a nearly 1¾-hour (1:43:57) Odessa Orlewicz video published two days ago: CIA & DARPA Whistleblower & Security Expert Admit They Target Certain Individuals To Test The Internet Of Living Things On Their Brains. They Will Roll This Mind Control Out On A Mass Scale When Needed.

"CIA & DARPA Whisteblower & Security Expert Discuss How They've Been Targeting Individuals Amongst Us (Without Permission) To Test Out The "Internet Of Living Things" On Our Brains... Which They Plan On Rolling Out Eventually On A Mass Scale To Control Us." ...This tech is destroying victims lives as they are used as lab rats unknowingly. Scientists also admit on stage they have this technology and a company on the news admits they use their tech to kill people. I show a wide variety of videos and screenshots.

Although that video ended ere 11:30 a.m., already my brother was set for some bed rest.

I 'dallied' a time here at my bedside computer, eventually closing my bedroom door. Anon it seemed to me that I could hear my brother moving about.

Shortening what would otherwise be a longer tale than I feel necessary, I had a nap, and then was here again at my computer when I heard my brother come back into the house. His van was already here, so it made little sense that he would have bused somewhere and then already returned home, so I enquired of him the reason for his presence.

It seems that he had indeed been out, but he had been driven by my eldest stepson. The reason for that was that the ignition interlock device installed in my brother's van two Saturdays ago would not allow him to start it ─ even though he had not been drinking since last night. He attempted twice to start it.

Each failure is apparently logged by the device, and my brother has previously said that there is a $48 fine for every failure.

I would be outraged if I had something like this happen to me.

At any rate, he had been expected by one of his drinking buddies to help out with the transport of a ladder, but thus far he had been unable to bring his van for that service. The guy had just recently phoned him again, so my brother said that he was to call the chap back, but he wanted first to try his van one further time.

Well, this time it started, so he left on the drive without further ado.

That was probably just ahead of 3 p.m., and he never returned this afternoon, so he must be somewhere keeping sober ─ he would not dare even having a sissy beer after his earlier van troubles.

The day seemed to be perfectly sunny, but it was a bath day ─ I do not have free enough time to sun, blog, and bathe. I can only hope that tomorrow is equally sunny, and that I feel up to doing any sunning.

Following my bath which stretched into the earliest evening, my brother returned home. Apparently due to an accident on whatever bridge he had to cross to get home, it took him nearly 1½ hours.

And now he deems it not worth going anywhere to socialize, so the T.V. is on at 6:40 p.m. and his first can of beer cracked open.

I will not be joining him until I have an evening walk ─ the plan is to make the round trip hike to the Green Timbers Liquor Store after I withdraw some money. I might possibly hit some other private liquor store, however. In either case, I will not be leaving on that venture until it is dark enough ─ so maybe 8:30 p.m. or soon after.

Right now, I am going to lie down for a spell. I was so 'burned out' from last evening's supper that I never ate today until something like 4:23 p.m. That smallish meal and then a bath have drained me.

In fact, I might as well close this post, for it will be too late to report on anything after I have my walk, for I will be thereafter watching some T.V. and indulging in at least a couple of cans of Cariboo Malt.

It is presently 7 p.m.

Sharing Christmas

The two cans of brew I had early last evening prior to lying down for a half hour or less in order to rest up for a planned five-mile + walk were evidently more than I could handle ─ I zonked out for maybe an hour.

As a result, I did not get ready and leave on that walk until nearly 9 p.m.

Fairly early into the venture ─ not too very much farther past Quibble Creek Greenway (Google Map) as I walked Fraser Highway towards 140th Street ─ I was to pass a possibly semi-high woman dressed so provocatively that I find myself still thinking back to her, so affected was I.

In her heels, she was taller than I am; and the display of nylon-encased long legs were more than I could resist looking back for one last longing gawk well after I had passed the woman.

Other than that, I do not recall anything else remarkable about the walk, except that one full week after I was supposed to have left homeless Charles "Stickman" McCarthy information concerning requirements for an Affidavit of Identity at an agreed-upon hiding spot just inside the edge of the Green Timbers Urban Forest, it was clear that he still had not bothered himself to visit the spot and retrieve what I had left.

Really, I am now doing my darned best to avoid encountering that time-waster when I have my walks. I now don a hood when I walk within the 3½-square mile rectangle in which I have previously met or even seen him. My shaven head makes me too easy for him to recognize if he happens to be lurking out of easy notice in the shadows.

I was back home again before my younger brother, so it did not matter that I had left as late as I did, concerned that by leaving so late I was reducing the amount of T.V.-viewing time we would have for shows we follow in common.

When finally he did show up, I had used our Android TV Box to locate a source for The Kettering Incident ─ specifically, the sole season's episode five ("The Forest"). I had previously found that the four streaming apps that I have downloaded into the Android TV Box seemed to offer no working links, so I had used a browser app and thus found this source at OK.ru ─ the sole fault were the obtrusive Arabic or Turkish (or whatever language they were) subtitles.

Early into it my besotted brother immediately started annoying me with a growled stupid question: "Is this a movie or a series, or what?"

Unable to contain myself, I made an exasperated exclamation, and then declared that it was the fifth episode of a series ─ and that he had already sat through the preceding four episodes. The implication of course was that by now he should not need to be so oblivious as to the show and to quit asking stupid questions.

He attempted to defend himself by objecting that it's no fault of his that we only see episodes weeks apart, but I shut him down by pointing out that such is the case with every series we watch ─ there is nothing different being done with this one. In other words, he doesn't have memory blocks concerning other series.

I also pointed out that this is hardly going to change because at best we only watch two shows an evening, and on just three evenings a week, whereas we are following at least 20 series currently.

I may have also added that it does not help that he is frequently passed out through various episodes.

This shut him up for most of the episode.

I wondered if we were going to watch a second show, so when The Kettering Incident was completed I began locating Chicago P.D. and the next episode we were scheduled for ─ season 10's episode three ("A Good Man").

I see now in Wikipedia that the Jay Halstead character was exiting the series for good in that episode ─ I had speculated on that to my brother when the episode ended. Was Jesse Lee Soffer thinking he was becoming too much a star to continue in the role?

Anyway, this episode's finish was late enough for my brother, so he headed on up to his bedroom for the night. I had only drank a further two cans of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol), but it was apparently sufficient to keep me up ─ what, till past 3 a.m.? Honestly, I do not remember. Quite likely randiness took over.

I had checked and seen that my monthly pension income had been directly deposited into the joint account I have with my wife, so I transferred out the bulk of it to my personal account. I left the $700 that I had weakly acquiesced to transferring to her (she does not seem able to access the account any longer with her debit card), but I will not do so until she again directly asks me. She never came home last night, and likely will not tonight either.

This morning commenced for me just after 8 a.m.

Just after 9 a.m. I claimed possession of the T.V., for my brother had not yet emerged from his bedroom. However, he was not to do so until well past 10 a.m., and even then, he kept yawning loudly over the first show that I had set up for us to watch together ─ a 43-minute (43:44) video published July 22, 2024, to Rumble's Stopthe Crime channel: MIRROR "Americans have no idea what's about to hit them, it's STUNNING" Fmr. Border Agent.

"Americans have no idea what's about to hit them, it's STUNNING" Fmr. Border Agent MIRROR 

Only just now have I realized how old the video is ─ had I noticed this morning, I would not have bothered with it.

I next tuned in a documentary that I had previously recorded, but my brother bowed out around 11:30 a.m. for some bed rest before its conclusion, so I will wait until we have completed watching it before speaking of it.

I had a meal, and then behaved depravedly for quite some time. I shut myself up into my bedroom when I heard my brother moving about in his bedroom.

I so very nearly finalized. Even now the powerful draw for relief is with me.

I hate my damned life.

Had I not squandered my early afternoon as I did, I could have sunned, for the afternoon was to become cloud-free from the look of it.

My despondence and depression were enormous. Despite the arrival of my (substantial) pension income this month, my wife was going to be deleting it by $700. I already feel that I need to pay $700 towards credit card debt for which she is directly responsible for $450 of that payment.

All this money that I received today, and so much of it is immediately lost or unavailable.

To attempt to quell or at least somewhat requite my misdirected randiness towards a crushing and vile denouement, I clutched at a Christmas movie resolution allowing of pure emotion abetted and enhanced with alcohol.

And thus here at my bedside computer a mere very few minutes past 6 p.m., I located a source for and began playing 2017's Sharing Christmas.

Wow!

Once I got into the flick, I doubt that I was ever fully dry-eyed.

Lead actress Ellen Hollman did not seem familiar to me, but I realize now that I have crossed paths with her work before. I even mentioned her in some previous post concerning a minor role she had in a movie apparently titled Justice.

I liked her straight off in Sharing Christmas, but it took awhile for her to really appeal on a biological level. Initially I thought that her character's employee was 'hotter' ─ the actress may have been Jade Harlow.

Nevertheless, in researching Ellen, I now realize that physically she is exceptionally fit, and not the slim 'frail' she appeared in this movie.

By the way, should you be curious on the movie, I watched it on my bedside computer at this source at M4uHD.net, and it played flawlessly. 

Despite having some supper late into the movie, guess what I was to drink? Three cans of Cariboo Malt and one of Bumper Crop cider (7% alcohol).

I want an early a.m. five-mile+ walk that I wish to rise at 1:30 a.m. to begin readying for, so I desperately hope that the alcohol does not foul my performance.

My base craving is numbed due to the alcohol, so at least that target has been largely achieved. Will I somehow cross paths with a questionable woman in the night? Not likely ─ it has more potential tomorrow evening when I also hope to have a walk then, so that is when I will be withdrawing some cash from today's pension deposit.

𝔉𝔲𝔠𝔨, 𝔦𝔱 𝔰𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔰 to be me. Even now, I desire 𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔫-abetted release.

Oh crap, I have to ready and get to bed ─ it is 9:16 p.m.!

Remorse

While readying for bed last evening shortly after 9:30 p.m., I was shutting down browsers and such ere restarting my computer to have it all set for when I next rose and posted something freedom-oriented to Facebook (you know, stuff like the image above), when I came across an unfinished game of Microsoft FreeCell that I had forgotten I was involved with.

Well, I never give up on a game ─ I have been known to 'undo' my moves all the way back to beginning a specific game all over again. I have also had to keep at least one game open on my computer for three days because try as I did, I just could not beat it ... but I finally did.

So last evening I figured I was going to be expending maybe five to 10 minutes at best.

Not so; it was after 10 p.m. before I beat the game and was able to get to bed. My cellphone alarm had been set for 1:30 a.m., so I kept it that way despite the half hour reduction in my planned time in bed.

I guess I slept better than is normal, for I do not recall having any conscious period after getting to sleep until I heard my cellphone alarm's chiming. Thus, I did not feel at all poorly in getting up to ready for my five-mile+ walk.

It had been storming all evening since the latter afternoon yesterday, but wonderfully the rain had stopped. I was not going to have to carry an umbrella after all.

My wife's bedroom door was pulled tight, so it was obvious that she had come home following her full day working at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time. Her youngest son was still up in the lads' den area, but he never seems aware when I sneak away on one of my walks.

I weighed myself fully clothed (sans jacket) when I was set to leave: just barely a shade below 185 pounds. And it was 2:01 a.m. once I was outside the locked front door and ready to begin my hike.

There seemed to be as much black night sky as there were broken grey clouds moving about.

I stopped at the elementary school playground three or so blocks away for my usual six sets of pull-ups and chin-ups, and a set of decline push-ups on a cement ramp.

I had to spend some time wiping a jungle gym monkey bar dry enough to use, but with considerable effort and whole body heaving, I managed my current maximums once I had my jacket off:

• Two sets of pull-ups: 8 and 2 repetitions
• Two sets of chin-ups: 3 and 3 repetitions
• Two sets of pull-ups on a pair of gymnastics-style rings: 2 and 2 repetitions, with the very final pull-up held at full elevation for a 35-count

Then 14 full-range decline push-ups.

A stop like this is arduous for this 74-year-old, but it also works wonders for my outlook after finishing and resuming my walk.

There was nothing of note to relate about the walk, except that it was 4:04 a.m. once I was back home and outside the locked front door.

I have kept forgetting to mention an interesting incident that occurred during two recent evening walks, the first of them being possibly a week ago.

I had been hiking along 100th Avenue from 148th Street and was about to cross 140th Street (Google Map), but I was awaiting the traffic light. Then I noticed a female figure coming my way along the forested or eastern side of 140th Street, so I made a snap decision to head on down her way.

But it was not a certain lass (Rayah) I rather keep hoping to again cross paths with. This gal was very nicely dressed in a knee-length skirt, and had a sort of Pixie cut of her blonde hair. Her legs were slim, as was she, but she was quite tall ─ possibly my own height.

As we passed, she kept her eyes and her face down-turned, never once looking up at me. Nevertheless, she was clearly very attractive.

This is not somewhere that a classy-looking well-dressed attractive young woman would be expected to be walking, so I could only speculate as to why she was doing so.

The second incident was this past Sunday evening. Again, I was walking 100th Avenue in the direction of 140th Street after having just accessed it from 138-A Street (Google Map).

The sidewalk along there is side-by-side with a bike lane that is removed from the avenue, so the sidewalk seems especially wide as a result.

Coming my way from 140th Street in the dark was a guy pushing a cart or baby buggy that seemed to contain the sort of sundry items a scavenger might be hauling about, but he had a female companion wearing shorts or cut-offs that could not possibly be any shorter.

He was coming along the bike lane, and she was on the outside of the sidewalk, rather forcing me to pass between the two of them ─ something I do not much like doing because I feel rude in breaching the companionship of couples in that fashion.

She was lagging just slightly, so I passed him first and then was coming abreast of this lass with the seemingly very long, bared legs ─ in the dark they seemed exceptionally slim (i.e., skinny).

She was attractive in a rather 'hard' way, for her hair seemed completely shorn to stubble length on the side of her head nearest me, with the hair above of course considerably lengthier. I suppose it may have been reflective of a Mohawk look.

As we passed one another, her eyes were locked with mine, and she issued a very quiet "Hello."

I responded with an equally low "Hi."

I assumed that she probably did not want the guy she was tagging along with to hear her make the greeting in passing, so I responded in an equally quiet tone. Had she been alone, I would have happily conversed with her.

Little such events are practically titillating to this lonely old soul who has had no physical intimacy with anyone since sometime in March 2013, despite being married and having my wife in my life.

But enough of this topic.

After my walk this early a.m., I probably did not get back to bed until at least 6:10 a.m. It had appeared that I might manage to make it to bed by 5:30 a.m. at latest, but I got heavily involved in seeking to find a download source for a very long 2004 movie that is variously titled, including Dark Kingdom: The Dragon King and Ring of the Nibelungs.

Wikipedia claims that in its original T.V. version, it was three hours and 42 minutes, but in its shorter version it was two hours and 42 minutes ─ i.e., reduced by about a hour.

Well, I was able to locate a source at a so-called torrent website that allowed me a download as an MKV file that I have no idea if our Android TV Box will be able to play on our T.V., but that discovery is some weeks away at this point.

As for length, in checking the file's properties, it is supposedly 2:57:14, so two hours and 57 minutes (or nearly three hours).

Maybe I should have downloaded an AVI file? Such were also available at the same website, but my flash or thumb drive cannot presently afford space for two downloads of such large files. Consequently I have bookmarked the website for potential future use.

Anyway, after getting to bed for some further sleep this morning, I rose just past 9 a.m. My younger brother was already watching T.V.

I had to wait until 9:30 a.m. before he turned the T.V. over to me so that I could operate our Android TV Box.

My first choice was a 19-minute (19:27) video published earlier today at Rumble's WTFLouie channel: 15 minutes with Dr.Makis Ep 026 Alberta Premier Danielle Smith has been Threatened 26-Aug-2026 e.

This man astounds me! How he has the courage to declare what he does whilst still living in Alberta is beyond understanding.

My next and final choice for this morning was nearly 1½ hours (1:28:06), and had been published yesterday at Rumble's Tucker Carlson channel: RFK Jr: Teaming up With Trump, Pavel Durov’s Arrest, CIA, and the Fall of the Democrat Party.

When Bobby Kennedy endorsed Donald Trump last week, he burned his boats. There’s no turning back for him, or for American politics. Here’s his first interview since that happened.

We had broken from that video so that my brother could keep an appointment for a haircut. Then after we had finished watching it, he sought some bed rest. I had already eaten while he had been out, so I was also soon enough able to return to my own bed and enjoyed a deep nap.

My brother was gone, but not for the day. He had gone forth to get some errands run with his girlfriend Bev, I was to discover, for he returned while I was boiling water for my day's third and final instant coffee.

However, he returned only to leave his van here. He was going to catch a bus and re-join Bev at her home two miles hence, and then they would be going to the nearby Legion over where she lived.

The day has been a mix of brilliant sunshine and cloud, with considerable wind. Had it been exclusively sunny, I might have spent some time sunning out in the backyard.

This has been a second consecutive and rare day when neither of my stepsons have been home, both apparently away to work. I am enjoying the alone time.

I intend an evening five-mile+ walk once dusk arrives, and then I will be sitting up late watching at least one show with my brother when we are back home, and enjoying a couple of beers.

My monthly pension was not directly deposited today, so my walk cannot include any shopping ─ grocery or beer. I am too broke.

Exacerbating matters was a text from my wife ─ she had another full workday today, so she left for work this morning shortly after 10 a.m. Her text was to enquire if my pension had come ─ if so, could I please transfer her $1,200, and she would repay me at the end of September.

???????

Well, that led to a rather heated exchange. I emphatically declared that such would not be taking place even if my pension had come. I had weakly previously acquiesced to $700, but I have since concluded that it would be the last time she is taking big money grabs like this and leaving me virtually destitute each month while she lives high with her friends.

To suddenly have her seek to grab another $500 on top of that was too outrageous.

She finally phoned me. She conceded in the call that the $700 would suffice.

Frankly, I do not care if she does not pay me back after I manage to struggle through September, because this is not going to happen to me again. NO MORE huge transfers to her when her own income matches mine ─ I am done funding her extravagance.

Since April, I believe that she has gotten a minimum of $2,400 from me, always promising some payback, but never honouring that promise. Her promises have proven worthless.

Maybe at the end of September if I do make it through, I will tell her not to bother paying me anything back because it will only mean that she will be 'needy' all that much sooner and she will then be after me for another 'loan' that is really only a claw back of her repayment.

I will tell her to keep her money, but not to bother coming to me again for more once she blows everything she's got. She can go crawling to her sons ─ who do not tend to be as weakly stupid and gullible as I am.

Lots on my mind ... as usual.

I chose this early evening to tune in FBI ─ episode two ("Remorse") of season six. I wanted some alcohol boost.

Despite first watching the show and eating a natural peanut butter sandwich comprised of just peanut butter and two slices of mostly organic whole grain bread, I was still able to drink a can each of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol) and Bumper Crop cider (7% alcohol).

It was a darned good show! I watched it here at my bedside computer at this link at M4uHD.net, if interested.

I was home alone until one of my stepsons finally arrived into the house at 7:27 p.m.

It is now 7: 43 p.m., and I am going to rest my eyes and frame for a while. It's not going to be gloomy enough for me to care to brave the public for at least another half hour.

Spare Room

Apparently I got back home last evening just after my younger brother had managed to make it back ─ he had not yet turned on the T.V. and was in his bedroom changing clothes.

Because of a fairly early start at watching T.V., after I put our Android TV Box to work, we were to watch two of the shows we follow in common.

First was The Morning Show ─ episode five ("Love Island") of season three.

Then I tuned in Chicago Fire ─ episode two ("Every Scar Tells a Story") of season 11. I had meant for us to watch The Kettering Incident, but I was unable to locate a working link for the scheduled episode in the four main streaming apps that I have downloaded into our Android TV Box. I am certain the episode is easily enough found online, but I need to research it in order to do that, and I knew my brother was too impatient.

So I will have The Kettering Incident set up for tomorrow evening's viewing.

My brother called it quits around 1 a.m., but I stupidly managed to sit up until (I am sure) well beyond 3 a.m. That's what comes of having consumed a total of three cans of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol) ─ or was it four cans? ─ as well as two cans of Bumper Crop cider (7 % alcohol).

Still, I managed to be up this morning just ahead of 8:30 a.m. My brother emerged from his bedroom right around 9 a.m.

Just before I joined him to watch more T.V. via our Android TV Box once he issued the invitation, I was surprised to hear my wife come into the house. She softly bade me a good morning as she passed by my bedroom and shut herself up in her own, no doubt having partied with friends much of the night.

The first item I tuned in was a 58-minute (58:17) video published yesterday at Dr. Mark Trozzi's Substack: Wins of the Week Ep35 with Ted Kuntz.

Thank you for joining us. There is much good news to report. Scientists, politicians, authors, actors, arbitrators, judges, doctors, lawyers, restaurant owners, and students are all among this week’s heroes.

We are shattering lies with truth, taking over unions, challenging corruption in courts, governments, medical colleges, and school boards; banning the same “masks” that were forced upon us; suing the mind-control propagandists of Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, and the Biden administration; dismantling the carbon dioxide scam; punishing those who enforced the COVID-19 injections; suing Big Pharma’s propagandists who slander honest doctors; forcing boards of education to explain themselves; and exposing the false math and vaccine lies of the CDC and CPSA.

Please keep up the great work, and take care of your mind, body, and spirit.

Definitely enjoyable. I do not wholly agree with all that Dr. Trozzi says, but he is never too far wrong. However, I DO believe the two men to be too optimistic.

Next I tuned in the last remaining portion of a movie we had separated from yesterday ─ I had it recorded onto a thumb or flash drive.

It was not a great feature, but it was a pleasant enough little story ─ 2018's Spare Room.

I had recorded it because it featured Alicia Witt in the cast, but I think that she may only have appeared three or so times at best, and her character seemed to be a bit of a bar fly. I almost missed noticing her because she never had much in the way of close-ups.

The two lead actors were Skylar Samuels, whom I see from her acting credits that I have likely seen her work before but I do not remember her; and Martin Sensmeier, who seemed equally unknown to me, but by whose credits I now understand that I have actually seen quite a lot of him.

I was a little surprised to see Danielle Brisebois heavily involved behind the scenes in the movie ─ I well remember her as the cute little girl the Bunkers basically adopted near the end of the All in the Family series, and then was Archie's responsibility alone (after Edith had died) in the successor series Archie Bunker's Place.

Anyway, I do not remember any longer what my download source for the movie was, but it can presently be watched at this M4uHD link.

After Spare Room, I tuned in a 42-minute (42:28) video published yesterday at BitChute's ittabena channel: Ancient Canaanite Occultism_ Modern Malta's Serpent Priests Mystery (Full Documentary).

I suppose that it was entertaining and interesting enough if you can get into that sort of speculative subject matter.

The final video I played was over an hour long and published earlier today at Rumble's TheLastAmericanVagabond channel: Derrick Broze Interview - Us Government's Fluoride Report Finally Released & The Two Party Obsession.

Joining me today is Derrick Broze, here to discuss the recent release of the US government's long suppressed NTP toxicology report outlining the very real risks of fluoride -- a long awaited report that followers of TLAV are already very well aware of. We discuss the implications of this report and what we can expect next. We also discuss the recent RFK Jr.  endorsement of Donald Trump and the near overwhelming rise in partisan obsession that is on full display as we lead up to the 2024 election.

All Video Source Links Can Be Found Here At The Last American Vagabond: https://www.thelastamericanvagabond.com/derrick-broze-interview-8-24-24

Oh, shoot! It is already past 9 p.m., and I want to be to bed by 9:30 p.m. so that I can rise at 1:30 a.m. to ready for a five-mile+ walk. However, the day has had a fair amount of rain, and it has been raining especially heavily since the latter afternoon ─ I do not doubt that I will require my umbrella.

My brother has been home some while after heading out in the early afternoon in his van. He reportedly refrained from any drinking, and just visited with his girlfriend Bev. He knows that I will be having my early walk and thus will not be watching shows with him this evening.

My wife had to work in the latter afternoon, so she rose while I was having my early afternoon nap, and she headed away on her fairly long gloomy drive around 3:15 p.m.

This is it for me today!

If They Knew the Truth

X (formerly Twitter): classicalliberty

I should never have involved myself in any T.V.-watching last evening just because my younger brother remained home after getting back from witnessing the marriage of his daughter in the States.

I was not to get to bed until at least 2 a.m., so there was no hope of rising at 4 a.m. as is customary for me on Sundays.

As well, I also drank possibly three cans of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol) and one of Bumper Crop cider (7% alcohol).

Employing our Android TV Box, I led us off with Vera ─ episode three ("Blue") of season 12.

It was ─ as usual ─ a darned good show, and my brother was sober enough to be properly focusing on it.

My mistake was to follow up the long episode with an equally long episode of Endeavour ─ the absolutely very finale episode three ("Exeunt") of the entire excellent series. The episode was the finale episode of season (or series, as the British prefer) nine.

An extremely comprehensive description of the episode is here at WGBH.org.

Playing the episode was a "mistake" because by then my brother was becoming insensible, so it was pretty much wasted on him. He was failing to understand segments; and sometimes he would depart at key points to muck about for a few minutes. Even when he was within earshot of the T.V., he would seem to be incapable of following along with the show by just listening.

And his blather ─ he just could not cease recurringly over-talking the show, spoiling it for me. At the very end, I had to replay the scene where Endeavour Morse gives his mentor Fred Thursday that man's 'lost' pension investment. The two men have a touching farewell, for they would not be seeing one another again, and Thursday says something ─ one word ─ to Endeavour that the latter responds to with "Morse. Just Morse." Or something like that.

I missed entirely what Thursday had said because of my brother's drunken blathering at this major emotional and key scene, so I replayed it ─ and I still had to declare to my brother that I wanted to hear what Thursday said, for my brother would still not shut up.

That final phenomenal scene in which Endeavour in his vehicle is driving away and passes a flashy red Jaguar ─ and we then see Endeavour looking into his car's mirror at the now-passed Jaguar as an older man's eyes peer into his own Jaguar's mirror to look back at Endeavour's vehicle ─ meant nothing to my brother.

I explained that the driver of the Jaguar was none other than the older Morse coming to start that leg of his story, but all my brother had to say was, "Whatever."

In other words, it meant nothing ─ not a trace of sentiment exists when he gets this insensibly plastered.

So he quite spoiled my overall enjoyment of this final series episode, and he meantime got nothing from it himself because he hardly understood much of what took place.

It is a shame that there do not seem to be any free sources for the special "Morse & The Last Endeavour". I have searched, but cannot find any.

Should you be interested in that final episode, though, two sources that presently offer it are this one at Supernova.to that took awhile to load and appeared to buffer a little afterwards, and this one at M4uHD.

Regardless, we finished our viewing last night with The Conners ─ episode five ("A Little Weed and a Bad Seed") of season five.

And as I said earlier, it may have been 2 a.m. before I made it to bed ─ if not later.

My morning began a little before 8:30 a.m. My brother never emerged from his bedroom until shortly after 9 a.m.

When we began watching some T.V. together at 9:30 a.m., I used our Android TV Box to play the final 15 minutes or so of a video we had to break from yesterday so that my brother could seek some bed rest. At 44 minutes (44:44), it had been published two days ago to Rumble's AnitaKrishna channel: Canadian Rail Strike and talking with Shaun J Freedom.

His mother went into hospital for bronchitis and never came out due to hospital Covid murder protocol. Now's he started a business to help others get the medical attention they need.

https://www.larxmedical.com/

As I expected, that is not Shaun's family name ─ i.e., "Freedom". Thanks to an article that Anita displayed telling his and his mother's story, I tracked it down to this Substack.

I next tuned in a 53-minute (53:25) video published August 21 at Rumble's Unscrew the News channel: Albertans Might Riot If They Knew The Truth!

It turns out that Alberta Healthcare is less about health than we would expect.
Where exactly is the $24 Billion dollars given yearly to AHS going?
You might be surprised to know that a large portion of that money is being used to fight doctors like Dr. Makis and currently have 500+ lawsuits on the go.
He has roughly calculated that they have wasted nearly $10 million trying to ruin his career, intimidate his family after he refused to a ND of $400,000, to shut him up. There are many whistleblowers that can carob-orate similar stories where AHS has poured money and time into destroying anyone speaking ill of this mafia organization.
Shouldn't they spend all or most of the money for healthcare, on "healthcare"?
How many patients should they be allowed to murder? A few? None?
Danielle Smith seems to be controlled by one or many of these corrupt organizations.
Who is she supposed to be answering to?

When that video was done, I started playing a movie that I had previously recorded onto a thumb or flash drive. Due to its length, we stopped nigh midway through the noon hour so that my brother could seek some bed rest. I will report on the movie once we finish watching it.

I never sought my needed nap until after my brother left on foot to bus away to start his daily drinking. The nap ─ as often it happens ─ left me feeling distinctly unpleasant.

The morning had been overcast, but there was quite a lot of afternoon sunshine and blue skies.

Maybe around 3:30 p.m. my wife unexpectedly showed up, then left again around 4:55 p.m. She had taken today off work and was headed off to party with one of her restaurant co-workers who was soon to be leaving for Thailand ─ whether a visit or to return there and live, I cannot say.

My wife said she likely would not return later tonight if she drank too much, She doesn't have to work until late tomorrow afternoon.

I am torn as to how to spend my evening. Normally I would make the 5.625-mile round trip hike to Real Canadian Superstore and then watch a show or two with my brother after we were both here later in the evening.

I just hate the idea of watching T.V. with his drunken persona on two consecutive evenings. Also, two successive late nights with some drinking does not do me kindly.

My other option is to remain home and get to bed relatively early and then rise at 1:30 a.m. to put in a five-mile+ walk ─ but that is what I normally do in the wee a.m. of Tuesday, and I have no desire to be doing that on two consecutive very early a.m.s.

◘◘◘

I have been finding myself feeling quite low this latter afternoon and into the evening, despite making my decision to visit Real Canadian Superstore.

So early into the evening in order to justify a malt and a cider, I tuned in The Guardian here at my bedside computer. It was the first season's episode four ("Lolita?").

It was good! This was a darned decent series.

I watched the episode at this link at M4uHD.net, and it played perfectly.

It is now 8:07 p.m., so I am going to begin readying for my outing.

My Niece's Wedding Day

As planned, I rose overnight at 1:30 a.m. to begin readying for my five-mile+ walk, and it was clearly raining steadily.

My youngest stepson was still up in the boys' den area downstairs, and would be oblivious to my eventual departure.

As well, my wife had come home following her full day of work at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time, and she was just about to go to bed, so I kept my bedroom door closed.

When I was set to go, my fully clothed weight (sans jacket) was approximately 181 pounds; and once I was outside the locked front door facing that steady rain, it was 1:59 a.m.

I needed my umbrella throughout the walk. There was to be no self-debate over whether I should stop at the elementary school playground three or so blocks from here for any exercise ─ that was going to have to await my return. At least then, if it was still raining, I would not have to face a wetting and then have to bear that state for too much longer.

I had the three pages of Affidavit of Identity information for homeless Charles "Stickman" McCarthy that I would be leaving just within the Green Timbers Urban Forest at an appointed spot alongside 100th Avenue. With the rain as it was, I had very little concern of getting tied up and delayed after possibly being recognized by him if he was lurking somewhere out of my notice. Even if he was braving the wet night, my umbrella allowed me to be an anonymous figure whose identity was pretty much shielded by its cover.

My route was such that I reached the appointed drop-off spot after I was into the second half of my walk.

Exactly two full days earlier I had left a note at that spot explaining that I had been unable to print out the material to leave at that time, for that had been the arrangement. So the note declared that I would meantime get the material printed and leave it early Saturday (today) for him to collect.

My note was still there, apparently untouched. Evidently Charles himself had not managed to attend the pick-up as had been arranged, so I retrieved my note and left the three pages in its place. He would be none the wiser that I had not printed out the material as I originally had said I would for the Thursday a.m. drop.

Of late I have begun increasing my pace after passing the halfway point, and that was certainly so on this occasion.

Once I was again at the elementary school and nearly home, I did stop at the playground for a half dozen sets of pull-ups and chin-ups and a set of full-range decline push-ups on a cement ramp.

There would be no wiping of a jungle gym monkey bar to exercise with, so I pulled out my old slim CLC gloves and ─ not daring to remove my black denim jacket ─ I started exercising with a set of pull-ups.

I only managed four repetitions, so I did two more sets of two pull-ups apiece before moving on to two sets of chin-ups, three in each set.

After that it was over to the gymnastics-style rings for two pull-ups in each of two sets that were clearly a strain; and when I attempted to hold the final pull-up for a 35-count, I likely rushed the count a little as I began to weaken and very slowly start an unwanted descent.

The decline push-ups were also a strain, for I barely managed a dozen of them.

It was exactly 4 a.m. by the time I was again outside the locked front door. My full excursion had taken just one minute over two hours, so it was very good time.

Once into the house I saw that my youngest stepson had gone to bed, so I turned off the kitchen light that he often carelessly or deliberately leaves burning. And then I went straight to the bathroom scales to see what my weight now was with my wet jacket and such still on: 187 pounds.

I was to eventually get to bed a little before 6 a.m., but my body temperature was low, and I never managed to feel fully warm in bed ─ this hampered my ability to easily find sleep. I was awake for long periods, it seemed.

Note that I was undergoing a Sabbath fast that commenced before dark Friday evening, and there had been a point well into the second half of my walk when I felt abnormally hungry.

While into another wakeful period in bed, I decided to check the time, and I believe that I read it to be somewhere between 9 and 10 a.m. ─ in other words, 9-something-or-other a.m.

I rose, desirous of later watching some morning videos on T.V. via our Android TV Box with my younger brother.

He was already watching T.V., so I spent a little time at my bedside computer before going downstairs to boil some water for a black instant coffee and then to join him.

Anon he invited me to play 'something short' ─ he wanted to get some further bed rest early because he was heading out at 12:30 p.m.

Well, I already had in mind to play Anita Krishna's latest video, and it was just about 45 minutes, so I tuned that in anyway.

My brother found it to be very interesting and was caught up in sitting with me longer than he had intended, so I took pity and offered to shut it down for us to resume tomorrow morning ─ there was something like 15 minutes of it remaining.

And off to his bedroom he went. By this time I had realized that I had risen an hour later than I had thought I was doing. It was already 11:30 a.m.

It all came to make sense that when I earlier rose and came forth from my bedroom, I saw that my wife had not only already risen, but she had bathed and gone for the day ─ another full workday. I just couldn't understand why she had done so especially early, for she does not usually leave until after 10 a.m.

Did she have something else she had to do first?

But no ─ she had probably risen at a usual time, and left for work similarly.

Anyway, once my brother headed off for his bed rest, for myself, I opted to watch a pair of relatively short recent videos at Rumble's A Warrior Calls channel.

First was one listed as 36:24 that had been published August 19: They Are Rolling in Their Graves/ TRUMP CONTROLLED.

The World is Shown the Corruption on multiple levels.
Either we the people wake up and gather on mass not to protest but move our courts or this world is finished.
They are pushing all of us into conflict time is off the essence
Trumptards are lost this man is not a savior he is corrupt to the core protecting Hillary clinton and more.

Judging by the video's viewer comments, not many people side with Christopher's stance concerning Trump.

Christopher also played an old clip from possibly 2020 in which a 102-year-old woman in some care home claims that she was taught in elementary school that the Earth is Flat. Well, whether or not it is, and whether or not she did have that taught and has not imagined it in some age-related dementia, my own mother was born two years prior to the old gal in the video, yet she never said a thing to me over the course of her life that schools in her early years taught Flat Earth.

My mother died in 2006, so she definitely lived long enough to have had time to mention something like this.

And I even spent time with her own mother ─ again, not a word was ever mentioned of being mis-educated about the shape of the world. Don't you think it would have merited some sort of mention at least once?

Anyway, the second video of his was listed as running 24:46, and had been published August 22: MONKEY POX/ BIRD FLU / VIRUSES ARE ALL....LIES.

Christine Massey is the only woman in the world exposing powerfully the lies
This interview shows the world with links below the truth destroying this evil narrative
Please share this video far and wide as future of mankind depends on it!

These are the links to see the massive evidence simply laid out for the world view and share far and wide.
https://viroliegy.com/
https://drsambailey.substack.com/
This monkeypox summit is posted on Sam's site:
Monkeypox Mania Summit
https://drsambailey.com/resources/videos/interviews/monkeypox-mania-summit/

More and more highly intelligent people are coming around to this very real possibility ... or maybe likelihood?

This latter video of course brought me to the noon hour, and I was still here at my bedside computer when my brother finally emerged from his bedroom.

I heard him fussing about in his bedroom and then downstairs for quite some while, and then at last he voiced that he was heading away.

I had not in this time actually seen him, for I remained here in my bedroom.

And then he came directly to me, asking if I would do him a favour. So I turned, and there he was fully attired in a suit and looking remarkably respectable.

The favour involved a smallish somewhat thickly filled dun-coloured envelope that had an "R" written on it and then a fairly large irregular ink 'dot'. He wanted me to take over its addressing ─ that is, to print his daughter's nickname.

This only required three more letters, but it seems that my brother's years of heavy drinking have rendered demonstrable instability to his hands ─ they really do shake quite badly.

So I printed the remainder of her name, and added three descending horizontal lines that grew progressively shorter.

He then asked that I also add "from Dad", so I did.

His 30-year-old daughter is getting married today in Washington State where she lives, so he is attending. Evidently he was not expecting me to accompany him, for he never previously issued an invitation ─ which is fine by me. I would rather never lay eyes upon his scheming, lying, malicious ex-wife for as long as I live.

Since my brother cannot drink if he is driving because of his van's newly installed ignition interlock device, he will have to remain entirely drink-free at the event the whole time he is in the States.

And so even though it is presently 6:10 p.m. as I type these words, he has yet to return. When he does, he will be perfectly sober.

The question thereafter is will he remain home and begin drinking? Or will he change his clothes and bus away to do his indulging?

I have just finished a nude weigh-in to see how my fast has progressed, for I will be eating again following sunset and dusk ─ I try to wait until it is actually dark.

At very most, I was 173 pounds.

The wet morning did taper into a dry afternoon, and by evening's arrival I noticed quite a lot of sunshine and blue sky. But I have felt somewhat unpleasantly cool all day without new calories coming in. And I only had that one unsweetened black instant coffee in the latter morning.

I've been dawdling with this latter portion of my post, so since it is presently 7:02 p.m., I am going to take a break. In fact, I believe that I shall be lying in bed beneath the covers and warming up a little.

More anon.

♦♦♦

My brother showed up at 7:10 p.m.

He had gone south fully intending to spend the night in his van, but following the marriage in which his daughter wore white, rap-style music became the entertainment and there was little to actually do.

Sure, he could have gotten obliterated, but he preferred not to do that.

So he came home.

And now he'll be spending the evening here.

I do plan to rise at 4 a.m. tomorrow, but I suppose once it is dark enough, I will join him and we can watch one of our shows ─ I have Vera in mind. Episodes are usually 90 minutes or so, I believe.

I can eat, and have a couple of beers, and properly be to bed ahead of midnight. It is presently 8:30 p.m., so I shall now conclude and publish this post.

Box of Tricks

It is truly remarkable how plastered I felt when I left home nigh 9 p.m. on last evening's five-mile+ walk after having drunk just a can each of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol) and Bumper Crop cider (7% alcohol).

That condition did not seem to ameliorate until a third of the way through the walk ─ essentially, when I took to Willow Trail near Green Timbers Way & 96th Avenue (Google Map) and worked my way along until I emerged the forest at 100th Avenue & 148th Street (Google Map) via Salal Trail.

Basically it was nearly a mile of dark forest walking, for not once did I use my flashlight. One must put one's alertness at high gear, for apart from coyotes and other wildlife of smaller size, there is always the potential of encountering another human ─ whether sane and innocuous or not. Even just someone who might trail-walk at night with a large or unfriendly dog is always a possibility.

I did once sight a largish animal afterwards when I was walking 100th Avenue in the direction of 140th Street. I was on the forested or southern side of 100th Avenue and noticed it in the distance ─ maybe around the 14200 block (Google Map) it crossed the highway from the northern side to gain the forest.

Whether it was a coyote or just a raccoon, I could not discern. But it appeared to be of such a size that I concluded that I preferred not to be walking past where it disappeared, so I crossed the highway and continued along the northern side from which it had first appeared.

I arrived back home ahead of 11:30 p.m. to find my younger brother watching T.V.

After I dressed down in my bedroom and then joined him with a further couple cans of Cariboo Malt that I was to drink, at his invitation to put on 'something interesting' I had already earlier used our Android TV Box to be prepared to play: The Avengers ─ season two's episode six ("Box of Tricks").

Maybe a quarter to a third of the way through the episode ─ my wife had arrived home prior to then from probably working the day at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time ─ my brother had passed out and remained so until into the next show I tuned in.

That show was the fourth episode of American Ninja Warrior's current season 16. I was rather impressed in that episode when burly Matt Iseman actually managed five ─ or was it six? ─ pull-ups or chin-ups on a dare from his co-host.

My brother retired to his bedroom for the night following the episode, but I managed to remain up until possibly 2:30 a.m.

My morning was to commence somewhere between 8 - 8:30 a.m., And I was to take control of the T.V. just ahead of my brother because he never emerged from his bedroom until after 9 a.m. By then I was watching a video (1:19:35) published earlier today to Rumble's A Warrior Calls channel: This Simple Conversation Educates World / Will Deliver Justice Once and for All.

I'm not in the mood to reproduce his bombastic video description ─ you can access it for yourself at the link.

After that I tuned in a better than two-hour (2:08:50) video streamed August 22 at Rumble's Vaccine Safety Research Foundation channel: VSRF Live #140: Down the Rabbit Hole part 3: Dr. David Martin.

This week's guest, Dr. David Martin, PhD., is an expert in a wide range of scientific, historical and other forensic areas of study, he never fails to deliver eye-opening revelations of the well-orchestrated maneuvering which has occurred over the last decades between military groups, big pharma, world governments and clandestine cabals, all of which have created these chaotic times we now inhabit.

Join us for this mind-blowing discussion and as always, please share this link and bring some friends.

Dr. David Martin:
https://twitter.com/DrDMartinWorld
https://www.davidmartin.world/

That interview was to become exceptionally interesting once it got solidly underway. I especially appreciated Dr. Martin's proclamation that Monkeypox is wholly a side-effect of the mRNA genetic gene therapy shot.

The day proved solidly overcast, and in the latter morning there was one period when it rained heavily. My brother didn't have the best conditions, either, when he left to bus away to drink.

My wife had a full workday today, so she rose possibly as early as 9:20 a.m., and left shortly after 10 a.m. on her fairly long drive.

I spent what felt like a couple of hours in the latter afternoon and early evening finally getting three pages of information printed out concerning what exactly involves getting an Affidavit of Identity ─ I intend to leave the information for homeless Charles "Stickman" McCarthy at an agreed-upon spot just inside the Green Timbers Urban Forest alongside 100th Avenue when I go on my early a.m. five-mile+ walk overnight.

The challenges of getting that information printed are so very involved that I am not even going to attempt to explain what I went through. Suffice to say that I became so damned stressed and anxious as my day wore away that I badly want to do some drinking, but I will probably only adversely affect my outing ─ and what little sleep I will be allowing myself before I rise at 1:30 a.m. to ready for the venture would also be adversely affected, even if only by the need to micturate.

At present it is 8:47 p.m. ─ I would very much like to be in bed by 9:30 p.m., so I am going to stop blogging for today.