Bugged Tale

It was possibly just past midnight when I got to bed last night with my cellphone alarm set for 6 a.m. to give me time to normalize for some backyard tool shed exercising once it was light enough. As it happened, I was not out there until nigh 8 a.m.

I think that my younger brother may have actually preceded me to bed last night. I am unsure if my wife had come home as yet.

By the way, concerning that ‎Shenzhen Xing he shi xun Co., Ltd (manufacturer) R69 PLUS Android 14 TV Box (4GB RAM; 64GB ROM) that I ordered from Amazon Canada well after 11 p.m. last evening, I was too hasty ─ it does not identify the RAM as operating with DDR4, which is one of the selling features I believed it to have.

So that bums me ─ I did not want DDR3.

But at least it is 1000M for Ethernet, and not 10/100M.

AS long as it is a better model than the TX95 Android 9 TV Box we have used for several years and which began malfunctioning two days ago, I shall be delighted.

If interested, and for however long this link remains valid, this is what I ordered last evening. It would be wonderful if it gets delivered on the 10th as projected.

Anyway, not only did I get possession of the T.V. this morning because my brother had not emerged from his bedroom by 9 a.m., but he never made his appearance until well after 10 a.m.

Putting our problematic Android TV Box to work, we tried one video but were not fussy about sticking with it, so I tuned in the movie we had broken from a couple or so days ago.

It was 2010's A Windigo Tale. I had the movie downloaded onto a flash or thumb drive some months back, so cannot definitively say now what my source was, but I see that it is available at this Archive.org link.

Actress Annie Murphy must have certainly had a bit part, for I have no memory of seeing her.

The movie was rather quaint, I suppose. It was also quite disjointed, skipping ahead and leaving much unexplained. It wasn't box office calibre, but it had its moments.

We got into another movie, but had to cancel out so that my brother could return to his bedroom for more bed rest.

I had eaten before he rose in the morning, so I was free to hit the hay myself, doing so at noon because I knew my brother planned on a beer run, and I desired to participate.

I was abed just over an hour, but had badly wanted to remain there in search of another bout of napping. However, I felt that I could not pass up this opportunity for a trip to the government liquor store two miles away.

It was raining rather seriously during the drive.

At least I now have two more dozen cans of Cariboo Malt, albeit it is still the older batch listed as 7.9% alcohol (the newer brew is 8%). I also bought a four-litre box of wine.

My wife had risen in our absence and was showering when we got back.

She had gotten a rather thick envelope in the mail today, and has for well over two weeks been expecting a cheque or something in the mail from which she had promised me to repay $500 that she had borrowed in one sum that she knows full well I cannot afford to let slide.

When she finished her shower, I asked her if the thick envelope was what she had been waiting for, but she claimed not to have yet opened it.

She was to nip out once on some errand; and after returning seemed to be fussing about in the kitchen. I was going to go downstairs to ask her again about the envelope ─ who knows, maybe she had gotten the cheque and had taken it to the bank? But I got slightly delayed doing something here on my bedside computer.

I then heard her go outside around 4:30 p.m. ... and like that she just left! Not a word to me.

Usually Wednesdays mark the start of a two-day absence from home. She might return Friday evening, but that is not certain ─ it may not be until sometime Saturday.

Incidentally, while she was away earlier, I had another exercise session in the backyard tool shed. I realized that she was evidently not scheduled to work the latter part of today at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time, so her bedroom was not going to be available to exercise there (mine is too cluttered and small).

At present it is 5:57 p.m. and there are still three Christmas movies I would like to watch before I take a long pause from any, so I am going to tune in one here on my bedside computer and do some drinking ─ I had a light supper, my second meal of the day.

🔵🔵🔵

My Christmas movie looked to be more saccharine than I was into ─ it was 2019's A Christmas Recipe for Romance. My source was this Yandex.com link.

Eventually this movie hit me hard! I was practically in sobbing tears, but only because it loosened up so much of the regret and loss I feel in my own pointless life.

The can of beer was insufficient, so towards the end I also poured myself a big shot of Lamb's Dark Navy Rum (40% alcohol).

Nevertheless, actress Madeline Leon came to deeply touch me, making me wish that I had lived a different version of myself and met someone just like her in my young adulthood. What a keeper!

Her name appears in my Blogger labels, so I have enjoyed her before ─ she was familiar visually, if not by name.

The movie probably finished by 7:35 p.m., and I soon realized that my brother had arrived back at some point from his near-daily bus transit somewhere this early afternoon to social drink.

My second video choice was Blood Ties ─ episode four ("Bugged") of season two. My source was this uFLIX.to link.

It is quite striking to me that clearly 'skinny' actress Gina Holden is so bloody hot and gorgeous to me in her Goth persona. I've always rather liked a lot of the tough Goth look ─ the 'Road Warrior' get-up. There was lots going for it.

It was a pretty good episode. The show required a second can of beer.

With time enough by my estimation for the evening, I tuned in the teen sitcom Victorious ─ episode two ("The Bird Scene") of the first season. My source this time was another uFLIX.to link.

Granted, there is nothing 'artful' to the show thus far, but the young people are actually very talented ... and the young ladies such a treat to my eyes.

Even so, I poured myself a glass tumbler (maybe just over eight ounces) of Mission Ridge Premium Red Wine (13% alcohol).

I well feel the evening's toll or total.

Damn, I wish I had young lasses in my barren life, but I have been ... cursed? ... to only have young males in my home scene. Sure, I would have been dumbfounded to have had my own blood son, but I have always delighted in the affectionate beguilement of little girls ... and as they matured towards womanhood.

It was all wasted. I spent my energies striving to remain employed in the federal government long enough to get a retirement pension, rising at 3 a.m. for the damned commute into the city; and hoping to be to bed by 9 p.m.

I had no time to be a substitute father for my new wife's two sons.

And then I began breaking down physically even before I had retired. And the decay progressed, as did so much more in my life.

Enough ─ the drink is now writing.

I am going to conclude this post now at 10:36 p.m., and perhaps be to bed well before midnight. The desire is there, though, to drink more. And I would, I think, if my financial situation was not this despairing.

Why will God not provide my physical liberty?