Teeth of Monsters

I suppose that I may have risen this morning around 5:30 a.m., and I was soon to discover on my wife's Facebook that she had posted two video clips (apparently posted at 5:05 and 5:16 p.m. yesterday) of the inside of what I think she identified as being a Taiwan airport ─ maybe Taipei's TPE? ─ so this would signify that she is finally homeward bound from her six or better weeks away to visit her mother and other family back in Thailand.

But here it is at 4:05 p.m. as I begin this post, and I have heard nothing directly from her since those two Facebook posts around 23 hours ago.

Anyway, I went outside around 6:30 a.m. to water the front yard garden flowers, and then visited the backyard. Nothing required watering because I had done that chore yesterday in the latter afternoon. So I visited the tool shed for some pull-ups and chin-ups.

I had come to the conclusion that as pathetic as my totals in each set may be, they are my maximums nonetheless. It is counterproductive for most people to be performing maximum totals each and every single day in any specific exercises, and I cannot doubt that I am well within that category.

And so I just did a single pull-up which was no simple achievement due to extreme tightness and almost electric spasms of pain primarily throughout my triceps region. I followed that with a chin-up after a 30-count; I could have done another, but I am striving to avoid anything my arms might consider to be an overworking of the involved muscular and related architecture.

I finished with a single pull-up between the two sides of the metal child's ladder that is all I have to work with, and I held the dead hang at the descent for a 60-count.

Then I did the 31 full flat-footed squats to work my seemingly permanently damaged right knee (20 assisted, 10 unassisted, and one unassisted held in the full squat position for a 100-count ere struggling erect).

Our mornings now are largely overcast, but the afternoons do become quite sunny and very warm.

My younger brother never emerged from his bedroom until something like 8:40 a.m. for his coffee and T.V. news. I waited until just about 9:15 a.m. before joining him.

After I did he was by then set to turn the T.V. over to me so that I could operate our Android TV Box. My first choice for us was a 54-minute (54:53) video published yesterday to Rumble's Libertytalkcanada channel: Canadians To Lose MORE LAND To The United Nations Agenda- Must See Interview!

Attention All: Broke Hard Working Canadians To Lose MORE LAND To The Marxist United Nations Agenda. Interview with Jim McMurtry.

After that I had a treat for my brother and I both ─ 1923. And now we have watched season two's episode six ("The Mountain Teeth of Monsters").

But as fabulously dramatic as the episode was, it was too bloody tragic for my liking. It was bad enough that the youngest Dutton (Jack) was so easily gunned down and killed before he could even react, but I was looking forward to the wonderful English couple being rewarded for helping their countrywoman Alexandra by driving her all the way to Montana to the Dutton ranch so she could unite with her husband Spencer Dutton. Instead, the two of them were killed off after having driven many hundreds of miles. That hit me hard ─ such selflessness by a rich couple to end in such tragedy.

There are a lot of people ─ characters, that is ─ in this series whose agonizing deaths I am very much looking forward to in the next and concluding two-part storyline, but it will be rather sad to have the series then end.

A couple of days ago we stopped a video we were watching so my brother could have his bed rest ─ we had just gotten past the 44-minute mark. So I continued with it after 1923. At just over 1¼ hours (1:16:53), it had been streamed June 17, 2022, to Rumble's America's Untold Stories channel: Mark Groubert and The National Lampoon.

Mark Groubert worked at the National Lampoon in the late 80s. Learn about the magazine's history and his time there.

Thereafter was my brother's return to his bedroom for further rest.

I had eaten before he first rose this morning, so I was back to bed for my nap ahead of 12:30 p.m., thinking to do some afternoon sunning of some description.

Well, I may have risen around 1:30 p.m. afterwards, but I just did not feel like the bother, even though my brother had already left on foot to bus away and begin his daily social drinking. I hate having to cautiously descend the stairs like some frail old man in full view of Bev who sits all day long on the chesterfield watching T.V. ─ she has a complete view of the entirety of the stairs, so there is no avoiding using them to go below.

When my brother revealed last February that he was moving her in here near the end of that month, it was because she could no longer afford her rent but did not want to move in with her parents who live maybe a 45-minute to an hour's drive away. Paraphrasing Bev, "I don't know anyone around there!"

Well, in all the time she has been living here, she has never gone with my brother to visit any of her friends, nor has one come here to see her.

So that was a lie! She has no interest in seeing anyone, and only leaves the house once or so a week with my brother when she has some sort of errand or personal business she must see to.

And now here I am as Summer wanes, wasting what precious little tanning and vitamin D-promoting sunshine remains for the year because I am consigned to living here within my tiny bedroom while she sits like some monitoring guard near the bottom of the stairs watching MY T.V. ─ I bought the damned thing back in the Summer of 2008, the first big screen T.V. my brother and I have ever owned.

She has her own quite large T.V. set up in their bedroom, but she only watches that when she has become too drunk on her white wine to use the stairs any longer, or else when she and my drunken brother cannot get along in an evening after he gets home from his daily social drinking.

I have no quality of life. If I cannot soon win a lottery to free me from my financial bondage to one and all that confines me here, there is little reason to keep living. I cannot do this for what remains of my natural lifespan.

And on a related note, the $130 (not $120 like I wrote a day or two ago) cheque that I mailed away early on August 19 to ensure it got in that day's mail collection ─ my gambled participation in the BC Children's Hospital Dream Lottery ─ still has not been cashed!

I have missed two substantial bonus draws; and the third and final bonus draw has a participation deadline of September 25.

God clearly hates me.

And on that bitter note I am going to break from this post to watch a couple of shows here on my bedside computer. I want to drink, and I can only justify it when I am watching my shows. I exercised earlier in my wife's bedroom in lieu of sunning, avoiding the inflow of the imminent Western sunshine that pours into her bedroom window once the Sun crosses over to that side of the house.

🟪🟪🟪

My first show was The 100 ─ the season five series finale episode 13 ("Damocles – Part Two").

My source was this RidoMovies.tv link.

It has been long since I enjoyed an episode of this series anywhere near as much as this one. The final sequence involving the escaping craft carrying the last of humankind from the missile designed to destroy the last life on the planet was superbly done. I never saw coming how long the survivors would be in 'cryo' suspension. I did rather expect that at least one person might not enter 'cryo' as an act of sacrifice for the projected 10 years that was intended, but I never dreamed this would be how it turned out.

And two more seasons to go!

The episode concluded maybe soon after 7:15 p.m., and my brother was not yet back from wherever he had bused.

I next watched Titans ─ episode six ("Jason Todd") of the first season.

Obviously in its way it was as fantastical as was The 100, but it was still quite exciting in that there is a great deal of exploration of character. So I cannot quite say which was the better show ─ maybe I will give it to The 100 for that space sequence where two people in love sacrificed their lifespans to be guardians of the 'sleeping' others.

Anyway, my source for Titans was this GOOJARA.to link.

When it was done, I could hear downstairs that my brother was finally home.

All told, I only drank two cans of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol)

Early into Titans ─ it was 7:54 p.m. ─ my youngest stepson texted me:

I have food if you're awake

Of course I responded back about what I was doing, and he promptly appeared with a delicious container of at least a half dozen or more pieces of fried or barbecued chicken drumettes and wingettes gorgeously spiced, and on a bed of some sort of brownish bed of fried thin noodles.

All I had eaten for my second meal today was a section of extra old cheddar cheese and a small peach and an apple, but I meant to save this new larder for my breakfast. Alas, at the end of Titans I was so hungry that at trying to just have a portion of the feed for the sake of the protein, I could not cease eating and thus devoured all.

The early plan is to rise at 3 a.m. for the ¾-mile round trip hobbling walk to the elementary school playground for a serious attempt at maximums in a half dozen sets of pull-ups and chin-ups.

May the equipment please be bone dry, should I indeed feel up to rising and going!

Right now it is 9:10 p.m., so I am going to take the 15 or so minutes to brush my teeth and then shut things down here on my computer and try to get to bed well before 10 p.m.