Assistants and Slaves

I found myself awake excessively early last night ─ long before my 3 a.m. cellphone alarm setting. In fact it may have been 1:22 a.m. when I checked the time.

I made an initial attempt for further sleep, but then decided not to bother. It was better to just get up and have my outing for some exercise, and then have more time afterwards to spend back in bed.

But that did not happen.

I opened my bedroom door to use the toilet, and discovered that my stepson ─ as the annoyer seems so damned adept at doing ─ had chosen this time to be showering. I needed the relief quite badly, so I was forced to make the choice to go hobble downstairs and use the toilet in his den area. My sole glee would be that in flushing it, since it is located directly beneath the upstairs bathroom, his shower would be adversely affected by the water flow reduction.

No sooner was I back to my bedroom when I heard someone coming into the house ─ my wife had arrived home. I had already shut my bedroom door to be removed from my stepson, but she knew I was up and tapped on the door.

I am sure that she had some drinks in her system. She first wanted me to know that if I was hungry, she had brought home some food from the Thai restaurant where she works part-time.

Then she wanted me to come outside to have a brief discussion about some of the front yard garden plants and the clearing of some of it that she wanted to do today. This was to include cutting down a 10-foot or more evergreen tree that she had brought home years ago when it was only maybe 1½ feet tall.

She did do some gardening today, for she had the day off from work; but she never got into any of this clearance labour. I'm rather glad that the tree was left unharmed.

Anyway, ultimately I never got away on my outing until shortly after 3 a.m. By then the venture had been amended to include a near-mile hike to my credit union's headquarters where I intended to deposit a monthly expenses reconciliation cheque from my brother that exceeded $300.

I cut through the elementary school property where I have my exercising (pull-ups and chin-ups), but I was saving that activity for my return. With my damaged right leg, my deposit errand was taking me time, and already the eastern sky was starting to lighten.

For a lovely change, I never saw anyone else on the streets at any time. However, when I arrived at the ATM, it had three very tall traffic cones linked by yellow barricade tape serving to block off access to the ATM.

I saw that the glass screen had been smashed with something hard, for it was radiating the sort of pattern of cracking that windshield glass displays when smashed with something hard or heavy that does not quite break through the glass.

In other words, it was still intact, but the network of radiating cracks made the electronic menu blurry and would have been impossible to read if one did not already have an understanding of what it said.

I contemplated trying to make the deposit anyway; but then I reconsidered because the workings might also be malfunctioning and it might keep my card, for example, if not even take my cheque but not register the transaction.

There was another ATM on the 'kitty-corner' of the very large building, so I chose instead to walk over to it ─ I just don't like that area because street people and their ilk tend to hang out thereabouts.

Well, I went there and discovered a notice indicating that the ATM was "permanently closed".

And so I did not complete the errand, deriving only extra walking exercise for my very damaged leg.

Back at the school, the dawn sky was spreading and the night fading, so I chose to only bother with the seven sets of pull-ups and chin-ups and nothing else. But it was a strain matching my recent maximums, for I do seem overworked for those exercises.

I engaged two sets of pull-ups, two sets of chin-ups, two sets of pull-ups with a pair of gymnastics-style rings, and one set of pull-ups using two jungle gym monkey bars ─ all with a 30-count between sets: 3-2-3-2-1-1-1.

I held the hang after the final pull-up for a 70-count before gingerly releasing my grip and slowly bringing down my arms after the rack-like experience.

I believe that it was almost 5:40 a.m. by the time I got back to bed.

My morning began ... well, it was after 8 a.m. I just don't recall by how much.

I was not only to gain possession of the T.V. because my younger brother failed to emerge from his bedroom by 9 a.m., but he never showed until at least 9:45 a.m. I had been just about to play the video I had wanted both of us to watch.

Published yesterday, it was nearly 1¼ hours (1:11:38), and at Rumble's Libertytalkcanada channel: Canada's PLAN To Take Out Farmers With ESG ,Traceability And Mass Culling. It's Already Starting...

IMPORTANT Interview with authors/experts who have spent thousands of hours closely following how big corporations & "sustainability" banksters are using interconnected programs to squeeze out farmers using numerous methods including mass culling. They lay it out during this interview. Bio: Peter Merrick: https://itstartswithgold.com/peter-j-merrick and bio https://itstartswithgold.com/adrian-c-spitters

Then I played the last half or so of a movie we had half-watched two mornings ago. Let's just say that I am glad it's over with.

The movie was 1998's The Assistants (also called Slaves of Hollywood). My source for the 1¼-hour (1:16:41) film was this February 17, 2023, upload to YouTube's Janson TV - Free Movies & Shows channel: The Assitants (Starring Hill Harper) | 1998 | Free Full Comedy Movie.

Imagine paying to see this at a theatre! How do movies like this get completed?

My brother never offered complaint about the movie, but of course he was sober.

After it, he returned to his bedroom for further bed rest. My wife had risen earlier, so that was partly why I held off on seeking my nap.

I knew that my brother was almost out of his feeble coffee cream, so I wanted to enlist him to get a couple of items for me if he was going to do some grocery shopping.

And that turned out to be his first order of business. I was then free to seek my nap.

I had wanted a litre of whipping cream and a loaf of Silver Hills bread, a largely organic brand. He failed to get me the brand I wanted, but he did get me two one-litre cartons of whipping cream ─ I had wanted two, but I did not want to burden him with too much of a load as he shopped, for I did not have any idea how much shopping he was planning on.

Off towards mid-afternoon, he left afoot to catch a bus and start his social drinking.

The day had been overcast through the morning, but started clearing up after midday. Likely, though, I would not have tried for any sunning even if my wife was not home.

But she was not here to stay ─ well past 4 p.m. she left without explanation, although I more or less saw her off.

Then at 5:26 p.m. she phoned, requesting that I place a container of some substance outside, but out of the Sun's reach. And then she dropped the hammer just as she had done a few days back ─ she wants me to use my balance-bloated VISA credit card to add a further $600 to some $1,200-priced fare she can get for a flight to Thailand late in July.

Even if I make my usual payments of $500 monthly to the card, it will take me six months to get back to where the balance is now if I submit to her pressure.

In other words, allowing her $600 on my card will ultimately cost me $3,000 and six months of struggling just to again achieve my card's present balance.

The woman has absolutely no heart.

I said that we would have to talk about it, and by that I was signifying that it needed to be in person. So she said that she would be returning home again sometime on Friday.

I think she was likely feeling some drink by the time she phoned me, so maybe once she is straight again she will be loath to broach the topic ... but that would most certainly be an unexpected surprise indeed.

Early into the evening I had some exercise in her vacant bedroom before shutting myself up here in my bedroom to watch a show on my bedside computer while enjoying a can of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol). Actually, I had some supper first.

The show I was to tune in was Westworld ─ episode three ("Années Folles") of season four. That one had three very interesting different storylines, and all of them were intriguing and exciting.

British actress Thandiwe Newton as Maeve is ─ to me ─ remarkably desirable for a relatively slim woman. And I was almost thrilled to see actress Aurora Perrineau ─ whom I have come to adore in Prodigal Son ─ as something of a 'Road Warrior' action figure who is carrying over into the next episode.

My episode source was this Tvids.net link, and it played flawlessly; but afterwards I found a new browser window had been thrown up and was hiding behind the one I was using. The new browser was for (I believe) the gambling website 'Stake'. So be warned.

When the episode concluded, a check revealed my brother was home, he and Bev loudly communicating with each other downstairs. It would have been folly to have attempted to watch anything else. Besides, I would prefer a reasonably early and sensible bedtime to allow for a wee a.m. walk for my bad leg's sake.

With that said, at 9:22 p.m. I am now going to publish this post, brush my teeth, and then shut down the various browsers and tabs that I have open here on my computer and get to bed.