I was almost certain yesterday that I was forgetting to remember and mention a morning video that my younger brother and I had watched ─ well, I happened across it this morning by sheer chance.
At 19 minutes (19:27), it had been published on September 19 to Rumble's Bonobo3D channel: Stop Logging Stanley Park!
Michael Robert Caditz is one of a group of four Vancouver residents taking the City of Vancouver to court, to stop the logging of Stanley Park. In this interview Michael reveals what he's learned about what's behind the destruction and harm to Vancouver's celebrated urban forest. The destruction of thousands of trees is causing irreparable damage to the ecosystem, putting the public at risk of injury, and increasing the chance of fire.
Stanley Park Preservation Society
https://savestanleypark.ca
Petition:
https://www.change.org/p/halt-logging-of-stanley-park-immediately
I have now signed the petition.
Okay, about last evening.
It was around 8:30 p.m. when I left here on my 5.625-mile round trip hike to Real Canadian Superstore for a mere litre of Dairyland whipping cream (33% butterfat) to use in my coffees as the creamer. I still had enough in the container that I am currently using that I might have been able to wait until Thursday evening, but certainly Tuesday evening if not Thursday. I just required a walking purpose.
However, fairly early into the walk I almost abandoned the shopping destination in favour of just having my usual five-mile+ walk, but I had not brought my Titan baton flashlight stun gun ─ I like to have it with me anytime I plan on using any of the Green Timbers Urban Forest Park trail system at night.
Sure, I had my dagger on my hip, but a dagger is a final resource that I would prefer never needing to employ.
So I held fast to the shopping destination, and actually had quite a treat in the form of the woman just ahead of me in the lineup. She was massive!
Either Black or maybe South Asian, she might have just barely topped me in height, but her dimensions otherwise were nearly phenomenal.
She wore a pair of black tights that had a sheen to them, and these encased shapely and hugely muscled legs. Even her buttocks were massively filled out, but not in the way of so many Black women who have a ridiculous caboose that protrudes out behind them in generally grotesque fashion.
Instead, this woman's behind was naturally contoured and proportional to the rest of her ─ so huge in that fashion. Yet it did not project outwards to the sides, either. Again, her contours were completely proper. No sign of saddlebags.
How buttocks can be as juicy and as massive as hers, yet not be at all gross to behold, just mystifies me.
She was broad-shouldered, and wide even in the area topping her sides, having that telltale taper that someone well-muscled has when viewed from the back.
She and the cashier spoke several times, and her voice was definitely female, as was her face.
Honestly, I have never seen a woman in real life with her dimensions. As I said, she was only possibly a bit taller than me ─ so an inch or so less than six feet. But judging by her massive musculature, she would have to have outweighed me.
Yet she was exquisite physically ─ absolutely exciting to this male!
Note that the very light afternoon rain had long stopped, and the pavement everywhere was almost all dried out. But early into my walk I was certain that I likely felt a few tiny specks of rain.
This seemed even more so as I was approaching home. Later on that evening, it was to start raining anew.
Anyway, I got home to of course find my brother watching T.V.
After I dressed down in my bedroom and got around to joining him just ahead of 11 p.m., at that hour he offered over control of the T.V. so that I could put our Android TV Box into action.
I led us off with American Ninja Warrior ─ I believe it was season 16's "Episode 5", the final of the qualifiers. We have fallen well behind in our viewing, so I am going to have to tune the season's episodes in more often than I have been doing.
The second and final show we were to watch was Doc Martin ─ the premiere episode ("Preserve the Romance") of season five. And as usual, it was most entertaining.
After my brother retired to his bedroom for the night, I was to get involved in a damned lengthy E-mail that I never finished off and sent away until 4:16 a.m. ─ I could scarcely believe it! By then the three Cariboo Malts (8% alcohol) that I had drunk over the course of the evening with my brother must surely have burned off.
My morning commenced well ahead of 9 a.m. ─ actually, I believe that I rose even before 8:30 a.m.; I did not expect that my brother would already be watching T.V. downstairs as he was.
I waited until just after 9 a.m. before going downstairs to join him, and get invited to put our Android TV to work again.
First on the agenda was a 13-minute (13:42) video published yesterday at Rumble's AnitaKrishna channel: Jagmeet Singh's Flip Flopping Relationship with Trudeau.
It's the off and on bro-mance between NDP leader Jagmeet Singh and PM Justin Trudeau, that's driving Canadian crazy. Make a decision and stick to it. You're together or you're not!
Call an election then! Let's have a non-confidence vote and trigger a carbon tax election, but no, Singh didn't.
Next were two videos published at Rumble's HealingEarth channel, both of which had been published earlier today:
Source: Dialogue Works
https://www.youtube.com/@dialogueworks01
- CRAIG MOKHIBER, International Lawyer - Western Media Can Be Prosecuted For Its Role In Gaza Genocide (28:05)
Source: Palestine Deep Dive
https://www.youtube.com/@PalestineDeepDive
Normally there would have been time for some further viewing, but my brother had a 1 p.m. memorial he wanted to attend for the local Whalley Legion branch president Tony Moore who had died very recently.
And so he knocked off ahead of 11:30 a.m. for some bed rest before he rose anew in the early noon hour and readied, then left to catch a bus, leaving his van at home so he could get involved in drinking.
I believe that there was very light rain this morning, but if so, I cannot say if it was an unbroken condition of the night.
My early afternoon nap was enjoyed, and it finished with a pleasant dream that involved some potential relationship-building with an attractive young woman working in some manner of shop.
What is rather unusual is that when I was coming out of the dream, I knew that I had now visited this young woman for the second time and was expecting her to have the same appearance, but her hairstyle was different and thus the aspect of her face.
What is unusual is that I think that my first interlude with her was in some previous dream, and it was how she appeared then that I was remembering.
Quite strange.
When I nap, I usually leave my cellphone downstairs so that I will not be disturbed. When I fetched it, I saw that my wife had phoned me at 1:45 and 2:52 p.m., so I phoned her back.
To my surprise, she had been home briefly during my nap and had even begun a load of laundry that she wanted me to take care of.
But the big deal here is that she wanted me to transfer her $500 ─ she had some dire need for which the money just had to be in some account by midnight tonight; she promised to pay it back tomorrow when her twice-monthly pay is supposed to get deposited into her bank account.
I had to explain that I did not even have $40 to access online ─ I won't until my monthly pension income arrives later this week.
For some reason she did not seem to fathom what I said and then launched into the importance of having the transfer, so I had to interrupt her and stress anew the details of my situation.
This rather alarmed her, for she was desperate about the $500.
She then asked if her youngest son was yet up from bed, for he had not been when she was here. But he was not ─ the 25-year-old can spend 12 hours straight in bed somehow.
So she asked me to have him phone her when he did get up.
I later did that. And it turned out that he told her that he did not have that much money either. However, he may have been lying ─ her sons know that she is a money pit or black hole. She constantly makes the sincerest of promises when these credit-based emergencies of her own foolish creation strike; but sincere or not, there is no reality to her ability to keep her promises.
And so it was going to be up to her eldest son ─ the 30-year-old was at work, having a 12-hour shift today from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. at fairly distant Tree Island Steel.
The younger brother was to tell me that his older brother was unlikely to make the loan either because their mother already owed him a lot of money ─ further broken sincere promises.
I feel sorry for the woman, but she refuses to learn that she should have absolutely nothing to do with credit. She just cannot leave it alone, alas.
Even though this was a bath day, I made an attempt to phone my late old friend William's ladyfriend Sandy, but it appears that I am going to have to look into purchasing either a new connection cord for the old phone here upstairs, or just buy some cheap new model.
I ran out of free time for the call by all the fussing around I was engaging ─ maybe I can just use a cord for the call from the phone downstairs. My brother may be showing up at any point now, so the time to make the call has long gone.
I intend an early a.m. five-mile+ walk, so I would like to try and be abed by 9:30 p,n, to facilitate rising at 1:30 a.m. to begin readying for that excursion. There will be no evening T.V. for me ─ tomorrow evening will be the proper evening for some beer and entertainment.
Darn! It is already 9:31 p.m., so I am wrapping up this post ─ Tʜᴇ Eɴᴅ.
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