Death Falls

My 5:30 a.m. cellphone alarm roused me this morning, but I had no clear certainty of where I would go a little later to do some shopping, and that was my undoing ─ and it was raining a beautifully light rain that would have been ideal for me to be out in.

I was considering visiting a pharmacy that opens at 8 a.m., or a grocery market that opens at 7 a.m.

Ultimately the grocery market won out, but then I noticed the time to already be after 7 a.m., and the darned store is ¾ of a mile distant ─ I did not care to be public that far distant so late into the morning with my lame right leg. I should already have been in the store ─ not readying to start the slow walk to get to it.

And so I surrendered my plans to go anywhere.

At least I did push myself to have a token exercise session out in the backyard tool shed, pretty much duplicating yesterday's ─ just six sets of a single repetition in each for the various pull-ups and chin-ups.

And I held the hang at the completion of the last repetition for a 50-count.

My younger brother surprised me by getting up well before 8 a.m. At that point I was feeling burned out, so around 8:15 a.m. I returned to bed just to rest until 9 a.m. before going downstairs to join him. Inadvertently, it was 9:15 a.m. before I next checked ─ by then my brother was probably getting a little desperate to have me show up and fetch some entertainment via our Android TV Box.

The first video I tuned in was 10-minutes (10:03) and had been uploaded yesterday to YouTube's Viva Frei channel: HUGE WIN! The British Columbia Ostriches are SAFE! At Least for Now... Viva Frei Vlawg.

I followed that with a 45-minute (45:58) video that had been streaming live when I first sought some bed rest before joining my brother ─ it was at YouTube's AnitaK channel: Why does the media lie so badly? & Will Carney get a majority? with David Krayden.

A 51-minute documentary was next. It had been uploaded October 14, 2016, to YouTube's Real Stories channel: Stolen Brides (Kidnapping Documentary) | Real Stories.

A one-off special that documents a mother's struggle to recover her daughters after their father abducted the pair, exposing them to sexual practices and holding them as 'Stolen Brides'.

It's damned difficult to get updated on that story! The oldest daughter who was not brainwashed has a Wikipedia entry: Zana Muhsen. Many people think this sparse Instagram account that is supposed to be hers is a fake, and it does seem strange that an actual author would offer so very little of relevance in her own account.

The mother of the two daughters ─ if I have this right, this is the mother: Miriam Ali (nés Mirian Kamouhi) ─ co-founded Lost Children International (LCI), but I cannot find any details on the organization such as a website.

I cannot even find any certain information on their young brother Mo Muhsen. It's all quite disappointing.

Anyway, the next video we got into was another documentary, but we never completed watching it, so I will wait before citing it.

My brother returned to his bedroom for some rest before later leaving in the early afternoon to catch a bus to go social drinking.

My wife had a full workday today at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time, so she emerged from her bedroom just past 9:30 a.m. to shower and whatever else before leaving us rather cheerily just past 10 a.m.

Over the day I nurtured thoughts of maybe getting out after dark this evening and doing the shopping I neglected this morning, but my brother was back home just ahead of 7:30 p.m., effectively negating any such venture.

And due to a long nap into the latter afternoon and then having to deal with an extra-long post in my private blog, I neglected working on my damaged right leg because I still thought that I might be getting out for that walk to shop.

Oh, well.

I am going to break from this post now at 8:10 p.m. and get together a wee bit of supper.

🟨🟨🟨

I was not to have that second meal of my day. I started down the stairs, but saw that Bev was occupying the kitchen cooking for my besotted overweight brother.

Over time I noticed from up here that he would pass out.

Anyway, shortly after 8:30 p.m. I shut myself up into my bedroom and used my bedside computer to tune in Batwoman ─ episode 12 ("We're All Mad Here") of season three. This was my justification for a can of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol) that was especially tasty due to my taste buds being unpolluted by any supper.

The episode was extremely good, I thought. Actress Rachel Skarsten as "Alice" is her very best when her character is sincerely emotional and repentant over her wicked persona, and I was touched by an unheralded gesture she made to protect her adopted sister Mary.

Mary ─ as played by hot little actress Nicole Kang ─ had a superb scene near the episode's conclusion in which she figured out that Ryan Wilder (Batwoman) and ex-Crows agent Sophie Moore had become an item. Her triumphant overboard reaction was absolutely gorgeous and seemed unbelievably realistic to me ─ I loved it!

I am looking forward to the series' conclusion, but I will miss these remarkable human displays.

My source was this GOOJARA.to link, and it played flawlessly.

Since it was not even 10 p.m. ─ I felt it to be too early for bed ─ I tuned in something else rather reluctantly: The Flash. Specifically, it was episode 13 ("Death Falls"), of season eight.

I got more out of the show than I expected. My emotion was especially fired up when character Frost converted into Hellfrost to defeat Deathstorm ─ the gal was so provocatively self-assured that I could have cheered!

But now the brainless writers at D.C. have killed off Frost / Hellstorm? If this is indeed the fact, then it is no wonder the series is one that I am about done with. Frost was one of the most intriguing characters by my estimation, and Hellfrost was even surmounting her! And now they have been written off?

D.C. has a sucking history of doing this ─ killing off characters that matter, and expecting a series to thrive because of it. If Frost / Hellfire is gone, then this may as well have been the series finale.

My source for the episode was this flawless GOOJARA.to link.

Well into the episode ─ and Bev had apparently already been assisted to their bedroom because she was too plastered on her white wine to manage it herself ─ I heard my brother return upstairs to use the toilet.

No damned way I am going to serve as Bev's replacement late into the evening and have to sit up until 1 or 2 a.m. using our Android TV Box to find episodes of shows my brother and I have formerly followed. That ended tonight.

So I paused the episode to cancel out the volume until my brother had done and then gone back downstairs.

Tomorrow morning I shall be announcing to him that he can forget about ever again trying to involve me in using our Android TV Box to line us up episodes of the T.V. series that we follow in common ─ he has spent 15 consecutive days watching only what Bev approves of.

I shall wait no more. I will make clear to him that I am done sitting up late watching shows ─ and especially, sitting up until mid-evening in the futile hope that he will desire to resume viewing the shows we used to enjoy.

I will give him one consolation. There are three T.V. series that I can recall which he especially enjoys. Thus, from time to time when I work my way through our series as I watch them by myself in the late afternoons and I come to one of the three shows he enjoyed the most, I will save the episode for watching during our morning T.V. together when we watch mostly fare entirely different from evening T.V.

Where his latter afternoons and his evenings are concerned, he can devolve into the alcoholic slob that he evidently sees as his place in life.

I only hope for myself that when I die, God will destroy my unconscious self as I have pleaded often enough in the past few years, and not bother resurrecting me into Judgment. I plead guilty now and require no judgment ─ I want to die and forever know nothing more if this is all God will be granting me in my life.

Inspired by that can of strong beer and a glass tumbler of red wine.

Enough blogging ─ it is 11:17 p.m. and time to wrap up and get to bed.