We'll Meet Again

It was less than five minutes past 10:30 p.m. last evening when I got to bed, but I did need urinary relief before the midnight hour was done; and again when I found myself awake much later, I rose to use the toilet and in checking the time saw it to be possibly 5:19 a.m. My cellphone alarm was set for 6 a.m.

I did return to bed, but at most a half hour later, I chose to rise.

I spent a little while downstairs fussing about with our old T95Q Android 9 TV Box, finally concluding there there is absolutely nothing that I am going to be able to do to tweak it to quit allowing the deletion of my apps by Google or whatever entity is doing it; nor to enable it to again allow apps to be downloaded, for absolutely no apks will unpack and install anymore. Sometimes I can't even download an apk to try and unpack it.

As explained in yesterday's post, I expect that it is running a non-certified version of the Android Open Source Project (AOSP), as well as an unofficial Google Play Store ─ mine actually has two Play Store apps, one slightly different from the other, but neither with a user icon in the upper right corner, and with nowhere indicating that one is Google certified.

Maybe tomorrow morning I will hook up the supposed R69Plus Android 14 TV Box I bought through Amazon a month or more ago. I will have to be prepared to immediately start figuring out if it has a certified Google Play Store. I will want to turn off whatever it is that I need to turn off in order to prevent the blocking of downloads I want to make, as well as prevent app disappearances.

The first download I want will be the Malwarebytes app to see what it is able to pick up.

When I went out to the backyard tool shed for my early morning exercise session, it was lightly raining and seems likely to have done so all day. The session was the usual pathetic single repetition in all six sets of pull-us and chin-ups; and I also tackled the squat work for the intended benefit of my damaged right knee and quadriceps muscles.

My brother barely emerged from his bedroom ahead of 8:30 a.m. By then I was eating my day's first of two meals.

Around 9:10 a.m. I hobbled downstairs to join him and await his invitation to begin operation of our Android TV Box. At 9 a.m. he just about always tunes in The Morning Show and watches it until the first commercial break.

I despise the show, and resent the time it is wasting when we could be watching worthwhile material via the Android TV Box.

So I had to sit through one dreadful segment where the hosts focussed on some appearance on Jimmy Kimmel Live! of Ryan Gosling and spouse Eva Mendes on her 52nd birthday, and then that was followed by "Furry Friday" when the hosts gush over a parade of photos (and sometimes video clips) of cross-the-country viwers' dogs. By this point I was getting very annoyed as my brother seemed to just be sitting in his chair transfixed.

When that was done and a new segment began of the latest episode of Survivor, I had my fill. In disgust I scooped up my empty coffee mug and my cellphone and came back upstairs. I decided to shut my bedroom door and return to bed for a far earlier than usual nap.

I think he came upstairs a short time later to invite me back down, but my bedroom door was of course closed, so that was that. I very much missed being able to watch our usual morning T.V., but I hope he suffered more for having to amuse himself with daytime T.V. (he has no idea how to operate the Android TV Box).

Initially I was a little keyed up and found napping difficult, but it was nice being back in bed. And anon, I did have a nap, rousing and then rising maybe around 10:30 a.m.

I opened my bedroom door and busied myself here on my bedside computer.

Around 11 a.m. it seems that my brother had his fill of morning T.V., for he turned it off; and in a very few minutes he came upstairs to his own bedroom, announcing that it was time for him to "stretch out" for a while.

I basically and good-naturedly congratulated him on his earlier than usual decision, confirming that I had already benefitted from doing similarly.

Had my wife been home and scheduled with a full workday today, I most likely would have remained downstairs and not had the early nap. But this was a very good opportunity to impress upon my brother that I am not exclusively available at his morning convenience to be operating our Android TV Box ─ he had best not take the risk in the future that I am going to remain available.

At least napping early has allowed me to have a light exercise session in my wife's vacant bedroom earlier than usual. This was important because today is a bath day, and I hardly ever have time for afternoon exercising as well as a bath.

With that said at 3:43 p.m., I am going to break from blogging and have that bath. I will thereafter gather together a supper and then soon be watching my usual T.V. shows here on my computer, enjoying some drink.

I will conclude this post in the latter evening.

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I led with a can of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol) and Blood Ties ─ episode nine ("We'll Meet Again") of season two. My source was this M4uFree.cx link. The episode and beer were done by 7:13 p.m.

It was a fairly good story, but the video quality was quite poor ─ bad colouring and an almost fuzzy or blurry finishing to the images. I must say, though, that despite all that, skinny Gina Holden looked so damned overwhelmingly hot ─ I can barely understand her effect on me.

And now there is only one episode remaining in the series.

My second beer was sacrificed to S.W.A.T. ─ episode two ("Gasoline Drum") of season two. My source was this 1Movies.bz link. The show was done by 8:15 p.m.

The episode was also very good. I just do not like that it is fiction. I know full well that S.W.A.T. goons do anything they are told ─ they don't know why. They just get their orders and do it ─ it's that old deniability crap, "I was just following orders."

And that justifies whatever havoc they cause to people.

Shows like S.W.A.T. make it seem like the members know absolutely everything about the target they are assigned, but this is very much the fiction. They are not informed detectives fully apprised about everything ─ they are only storm troopers expected to swoop in and neutralize their assigned target(s). That is all they care or need to know. 

My next show was enjoyed with possibly a bit over 10 ounces of Sommet Rouge wine (12% alcohol). The show itself was done by 9:34 p.m., but its closing scene reminded me of something I neglected to mention yesterday concerning what I had watched that evening.

My first show that evening had been Profiler with beautiful Ally Walker in the lead role. She was to have a guest appearance as a villainess in one of the next two shows I was to watch that evening ─ FBI: Most Wanted. She was more than a quarter century older by then, and almost unrecognizable. Wikipedia fails to mention that 2024 episode in her current cast credits, incidentally, which end with the T.V. series Ghosted (2017/2018).

But I am not presently concerned with Ally. It was supporting Profiler actor Julian McMahon. This actor played the FBI team leader two dozen years later in the first couple or so seasons of FBI - Most Wanted, and subsequently died. Both as a character first, and then in real life.

Well, tonight one of the central team members of S.W.A.T. is played by actor Kenny Johnson. To my surprise, at the end of the episode of FBI: International that I watched ─ episode 17 ("Dead Dead") of season four, my third and final show this evening ─ he appeared as FBI team leader Wesley "Wes" Mitchell's estranged biological father seeking parole after something like 20 years in prison.

If interested, my source for FBI - International this evening was this Fmovies.co link.

Somewhere around 9:50 p.m. my wife evidently arrived home, but she has passed by my open bedroom doorway several times without speaking a word to me.

I am going to call it an evening and publish this post, and very soon get to bed. I am considering an early excursion to shop at a local pharmacy that opens at 8 a.m., so we shall see.

Right now it is 10:36 p.m., and still no connection with my wife. So be it. I will use the toilet and just go to bed soon.