Plaything Warriors

Although I was to bed quite late last night ─ maybe after midnight ─ my wife had not yet come home from her full workday at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time. I don't recall ever hearing her, either.

She had another full workday today, so if she had been partying, she likely wasn't feeling too keen when she emerged from her bedroom around 9:40 a.m. to shower and such, and then be away on her fairly long drive soon past 10 a.m.

I had risen at 6 a.m., as usual feeling like being in bed overnight had been brutal instead of restorative, yet I only wanted to remain there.

I suppose that it was around 7:50 a.m. that I tackled the 10 slow full-range push-ups on the linoleum floor in the kitchen area before going out to the backyard and then the tool shed.

I surprised myself by doing better than usual in the half dozen sets of pull-ups and chin-ups. I opened with three pull-ups. And though the second set only had one repetition, the first of the two sets of chin-ups that followed found me managing two repetitions. The second set of course was a mere single repetition, as were each of the two sets of pull-ups between the bars.

I held the dead hang of the very final pull-up for a possible 45-count before moving on to the squat work to strengthen my crippled right knee and quadriceps.

It was so darned muggy out there this morning, as no doubt has been the day.

I had a very light first meal of my day. And after my younger brother emerged from his bedroom towards 8:30 a.m., I did not join him for our morning T.V. until a little past 9 a.m.

Before I knew it, around 9:45 - 9:50 a.m. he announced he was returning to his bedroom for further bed rest. I had completely forgotten that he had an 11:30 a.m. appointment to go and get his driver's licence renewed.

I never asked him about the experience, and whether he needed to have a vision test. I was having my midday nap when he got back and returned again to his own bed. Then after Bev came forth to spend the rest of the day watching T.V., he joined her for a short while and then left afoot for a bus to carry him off to social drink.

When my wife came downstairs this morning, she must have been surprised that I was watching T.V. alone by that point, for my brother had already returned to his bedroom for the first time.

The day has been primarily overcast, although sometimes some filtered sunlight has gotten through. Maybe we've even had full sunny breaks ─ I notice very little here in my heavily-curtained wee bedroom.

I got in an early afternoon ─ maybe I began around 2:20 p.m. or so ─ half hour exercise session in my wife's vacant bedroom. My belly sure is flab-pouched ─ I would look dreadful if I was not so well-tanned. 

Right now it is 3:40 p.m., and I am going to take my blogging break early. I still have to gather together what will be my day's second and final rather light meal, and then I will start having some drinks while watching the next three shows on my roster's rotation.

I made an attempt to phone Sandy W., my late old friend W.A.G.'s lady friend, but I only got her voicemail. It has been over a year since she and I last spoke, so if she calls me back before I start watching my shows, I will feel obligated to take her call.

🔴🔴🔴

Well, Sandy did phone me back, and that used up 47 minutes, effectively removing the bit of headway I had made on the afternoon.

My first show was The Guardian ─ season two's episode 21 ("Burton & Ernie"). My source was at GOOJARA.to.

This is a superb series. And so was this episode. Punk-ass delinquent character Jeremy got his just desserts as far as I am concerned ─ I have never liked the loud mouth.

I sure hope the Shannon character straightens up and realizes she can't bear to live without Burton in her life as her adoptive father and selfless protector and provider.

The dozen or so ounces of Domaine d'Or red wine (12% alcohol) I enjoyed with the show of course contributed to my involvement, and the show was done by 6:43 p.m.

When I saw that my second show was to be Black Mirror, I was right bummed out. The episodes are sometimes dreadfully long ─ T.V. movie length ─ and few have a worthwhile ending.

Well, at least this one was not overlong ─ barely more than The Guardian I had just watched. But it proved to be 'stupid as 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀'. I had watched season seven's episode four ("Plaything"). My source was at TVSeries.video.

There is some speculation in the 'freedom movement' that maybe A.I. is a supremely enhanced medium by which the demon world can interact with people to an exponential magnified level than ouija boards ever could.

Not only is this technology now throughout the world and even in the satellites orbiting above, but we are creating unimaginably massive data centres to house and enhance A.I.'s reach as was never before imagined.

So now I just wasted my time watching a stupid show where all Mankind is taken over by A.I. entities at basically the mere snap of the fingers?

I watched this piece of garbage while ingesting a can of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol), and the show was over and done by 7:46 p.m.

My third and last scheduled show (and my second can of beer) was Psych ─ episode six ("Weekend Warriors") of the first season. For the second time this evening, my source was at GOOJARA.to.

The episode eradicated the dark bleakness of Black Mirror, but Psych was still a pile of steaming nonsense. Even so, it topped Black Mirror, but was well beneath The Guardian.

I recognized the actress portraying the Civil War nurse, but I had no idea who she was nor why I recognized her: it was Claire Coffee.

I noticed that the main character in Psyche seems to be drawn biologically to beautiful women whom he later indicts as involved in the episode's murder. I don't like that easy perfidy on his part.

I honestly don't like the series, and I do not understand how it achieved the longevity that it did. I only began watching the series because I wanted to see actress Katie Findlay, but she apparently only had one appearance in a season five episode. Maybe next time my rotation brings me to this farce series I will just watch that episode and be done with it ─ I absolutely will not waste my time watching the 121 episodes in this ludicrous series.

Life is too damned short. 

I devoted what I deem to be a wasted second can of beer to this trash which finished at 9:02 p.m.

It seems my brother must have returned home at some point during the episode to pass out downstairs in bestowing his company upon Bev still watching T.V.

Right now it is 10:18 p.m. and I am going to slowly work my way through the shutting-down of various websites and software that I have open. My wife is not yet home, and she has a full workday in store for tomorrow if nothing has been rescheduled.

I have nothing planned for tomorrow morning apart from the usual start at 6 a.m.