Encore

It ain't easy trying to sleep through to my 6 a.m. alarm, and last night was a hot one to boot. Still, as usual I rose to my 6 a.m. cellphone alarm. I hadn't heard my wife come home after her full day working at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time, but I did manage to get to bed ahead of 11 p.m. last evening.

Not much after 7:30 a.m. I got in the 10 slow full-range push-ups in the kitchen area before proceeding out to the backyard tool shed for my usual 15 minutes of exercising there: an opening set of two pull-ups followed by a single repetition in each of the five sets of pull-ups and chin-ups that followed, holding the dead hang of the very final pull-up for a 45-count.

And then the squat work to strengthen my crippled right knee and quadriceps.

Back in the house I put together my day's first meal and then I brought that here to my bedside computer to consume.

My younger brother did not emerge from his bedroom by 9 a.m., so I ensured that I had possession of the T.V. in the living room downstairs. When he hadn't emerged by about 9:10 a.m. I began operation of our R69 Plus Android 14 TV Box and started watching an 18-minute (18:29) video uploaded earlier today to YouTube's Moose on the Loose channel: A Journalist Just Tried to Trap Pierre. Big Mistake.

My brother joined me around 9:20 a.m. at very latest.

I should know better by now, but next I tuned in a video listing itself at a bit over an hour (1:04:10) that had been streamed yesterday to Rumble's Redacted News channel: UFO Disclosure, Simulation Theory, and Alien Bodies w Ron James.

What I meant by knowing better was that almost the first 15 minutes were mere filler unrelated to the video because apparently host Clayton Morris wasn't set to stream; and then there were at least three commercial spiels interrupting the actual interview.

If I had thought ahead, I could have tuned in the same video on YouTube where it is more correctly listed as being 47 minutes (47:18) and been spared a lot of manually skipping ahead. YouTube tends to even cut out the commercials worked into these sorts of recorded livecasts.

Anyway, next up was Route 66 ─ episode 12 ("Sheba") of the first season. My source had been uploaded January 1, 2024, to YouTube's Classic Films & Serials Now! channel: Route 66 S1E12 Sheba (January 6, 1961).

I always liked this series. I didn't know of the lead guest actress ─ Whitney Blake ─ so I was surprised to read that she was the mother of actress Meredith Baxter. Meredith is now a little older than her mother Whitney ever got to be.

My brother and I finished up with a movie I had downloaded onto a USB drive that is currently inserted into our T95Q Android 9 TV Box, so I switched over to it. We were to get a little over a half hour into into the movie before my brother wanted to return to his bedroom for further bed rest, so the movie will have to wait for another day.

My wife had another full workday today, and actually emerged from her bedroom to shower right after my brother had joined me for T.V. She was away on her fairly long drive earlier than she sometimes rises to start getting ready!

I believe that I was to bed for my midday nap around 12:08 p.m., but though I was able to nap, I roused ahead of 1 p.m. If I did not intend any sunning, I might have tried to sleep a little further.

My brother was still here after 2 p.m., so I opted to have some exercise in my wife's vacant bedroom, and I put in darned near the usual half hour that characterizes these afternoon sessions. My brother had left for a bus to carry him off to social drink just before I had begun exercising, but I went ahead with it anyway.

As for my sunning, I well exceeded 1½ hours, commencing a few minutes ahead of 2:30 p.m. and carrying on until a few minutes past 4 p.m. During that time I had occasion to possibly kill three common green bottle flies, although they seemed more bluish to me.

Although I did see each one sort of 'bounce' away when I delivered a blow with my rolled-up tank top after each had lit on me, I only ever saw one of them thereafter because it revived and was obvious as it kept moving about, unable to fly any longer ─ does that make it a 'walk' rather than a fly?

This gives me no satisfaction after the commission of the effective strike. I just wish the damned things would leave me alone, and I would leave them alone. But sometimes it's as if they are deliberately taunting or tormenting me, and I get angry.

If I did kill one or two, and only crippled the living one, they will not avoid being discovered by hunting wasps that cruise the lawn, often landing and foraging beneath the leaves of prostrated weeds in the lawn.

As I said, it gives me no satisfaction delivering this cruelty ─ but all they have to do is avoid me.

After coming into the house I gathered up my day's second and quite light meal, which I have since eaten.

Right now, since it is 6 p.m., I am taking my blogging break to watch a couple of T.V. shows here on my bedside computer so that I can enjoy a couple of cans of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol).

⭐⭐⭐

I started off with FBI: Most Wanted ─ episode 12 ("68 Seconds") of season six. My source was at TVSeries.video.

It was darned good ─ I despise rapists. I found it a little weird that the rather athletic and fairly tall criminal had difficulty escaping heavy-butted Black agent Sheryll Barnes in a foot race ─ and then he later actually got out-runned by short and rather pudgy computer-geek agent Hana Gibson who even tackled him from behind, but he managed to fight her off by clocking her, running away again.

But I let these incongruities slide and still enjoyed the episode, which was done by 7:05 p.m.

I barely recognized guest actress Wendy Moniz, nor could I remember her from earlier seasons. However, I have only quite recently become drawn to her as a result of watching episodes of The Guardian.

I am certain that I blew at least 20 minutes trying to locate the proper episode of the next show I wanted to see. First I watched maybe 10 minutes of the wrong episode before concluding that far too much backstory was not known. Yet other websites were also misfiles.

I finally located the correct link file for Titans ─ episode two ("Red Hood) of season three. Apart from the waste of so much time, I had also been sampling my second can of beer ─ obviously wastefully. And as a consequence when I at last located the correct episode at 45 minutes in duration, I had to hold back on my consumption, fighting urges otherwise.

My final source was at TVids.to.

During the episode I was to hear my brother sneezing downstairs, so it was obvious he had arrived back home at some point.

And the episode was done by 8:43 p.m.

Next I took the time to brush my teeth while deliberating on how bloody light it was outside ─ I needed to pass sufficient time that darkness was nearer ere getting to bed.

So I tuned in S.W.A.T. ─ episode 13 ("Encore") of season two. My source was reliable GOOJARA.to.

Initially I poured maybe seven ounces of Sommet Rouge red wine (12% alcohol) into a glass tumbler to see if I could extend its presence, but I couldn't ─ I added at least another five ounces to get me through the very good episode. I am never thrilled that S.W.A.T. is next on the roster of shows I watch, but lately I have been keenly enjoying them.

I keep wishing that the married somewhat older team member facing heavy familial expenditure he cannot realistically cope with would come into a windfall ─ just as I direly need one.

The episode was done by 10:20 p.m.

It is presently 10:44 p.m., so I am going to publish this post and then work my way through finishing up everything that needs completion ere I get myself to bed.

I've got my bedroom window open by a foot or so, and an upright fan as well as my ceiling fan running in this tiny bedroom of mine, and it's only enough to barely keep me from perspiring. Why isn't the cooler outside air circulating into my bedroom?