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Tuesday, July 4, 2017

💀 ☠ Why Eating Meat Is Important │ How to Eradicate Fluoride from Your Body

After the sort of fool night I had ─ I never got myself to bed last night until 1:45 a.m. ─ I never expected to be salvaging anything from today. Usually, my spirit is too broken.

My youngest stepson Poté didn't get home until maybe 1:15 a.m. I never realized for certain until early this afternoon that he had come home with his girlfriend.

My sleep was already seriously broken ahead of 6:00 a.m. this morning, but I strove to effect a return to sleep ─ I was in no shape at all to be coping with the day.

When next I checked the time, it was 7:11 a.m. ─ time to get up.

I was soon at work adding content into the new post I am constructing at my hosted website Latin Impressions. Fortunately, yesterday I had the forethought to do extra work ─ better than half of what I would expect of myself as a day's effort on any given day.

That meant that I did not have to feel bound here to my computer this morning ─ I merely fulfilled the remainder of what I would have expected of myself for a normal day's work, and then I began preparing for the four-mile round-trip hike to the government liquor store at 108th Avenue & King George Boulevard here in Whalley

I was going to add a dozen cans of strong (8% alcohol) beer to my supply, but I was not in any particular need ─ the trip was for a bottle of Scotch to have on hand as a gift for my younger brother Mark on his 65th birthday this coming weekend.

First, though, I would be hiking the mile or so to the Coast Capital Savings Credit Union over by the King George SkyTrain Station. I had Mark's monthly expenses reconciliation cheque to deposit ─ this one included his share of our property taxes that I had paid by cheque yesterday.

Actually, Mark had dropped off my cheque at Surrey City Hall yesterday ─ the payment's due date ─ even though the building was closed because it was a statutory holiday (the Canada Day long weekend).

It was not yet 10:20 a.m. when I set off under a very sunny sky. I walked slowly, for it was hot, and I was decked out in dark clothes ─ including a black denim jacket.

I met with a slight obstacle at the credit union's outdoor ATM ─ there were no envelopes. It took me a couple of minutes in my bewilderment to figure out that the credit union was open for business and probably had an indoor ATM ─ I had never been inside the building before.

I did find it, although I felt suspicious as I prowled about rather aimlessly while overly dressed as I was for the hot day ─ and toting a large pack. 

With the deposit accomplished, my next destination was the Carlton Cards shop in Surrey Place (Central City).

In the time that I browsed the gag birthday cards, only two bought forth a bit of a laugh from me, so I opted for the one that affected me the most.

With the card bought, it was on to the liquor store. I bought the 1.14-litre bottle of Scotch I was after, plus a dozen cans of strong beer for me.

And made the slow return hike back home, probably arriving here no later than 12:26 p.m. ─ and finding my wife Jack home from Vancouver

She was very 'dressed up.' I apparently arrived home just before she had left again ─ she said that she was to hook up for a meal with her friend Fanta and one other friend over in the Guildford area, and would be back around 5:00 p.m.

So that leaves me scant time to deal with this post.

Poté and his girlfriend never got up until long past 1:00 p.m., and by about 1:45 p.m. left in his car for somewhere. And note that they had gotten to bed ahead of me last night. This ability of theirs to so easily remain in bed for 12-hour stretches smacks to me of the unhealthy.

Anyway, I took a couple of photos of the bottle of Scotch and the card that I have for Mark:

The interior of the card is difficult to read because of the exceptionally tiny lettering, but it says:
"...so, what do you think of your musical birthday card?"

It isn't a musical card, of course. The joke is that the recipient is losing both eyesight and hearing, and thus cannot easily read the card nor hear the tune.

Did I need to explain that?

Very recently, I recollect posting a refutation concerning some recent headlines that got press as a result of a study claiming to have proof that meat-eating is harmful.

Well, here is another refutation of that study, if anyone needs it:


Beneath that article was a reference to the actual study, but the study was not linked to. Should you wish to view it, it is here:

Another article that I found to be potentially very useful for anyone who may have had to spend lots of his or her life drinking fluoridated water is this:


As that article indicates, far too many of us are also consuming fluoride in the toothpaste that it is impossible not to sometimes swallow some of, as well as mouthwashes. 

I can't imagine anyone who is attune to the dangers of fluoride ever submitting to a dentist's attempt to administer a fluoride treatment!

Alright, I had better get this post finished and published ─ I think that my wife Jack had said that she might get back as early as 4:00 p.m., and at this very moment it is 3:34 p.m.

So here to close with is a journal entry of mine from 41 years ago when I was 26 years old, and living in a basement housekeeping unit in New Westminster.

I was renting my small accommodation in a private home located on Ninth Street, and about two houses up from Third Avenue.

My bedtime the previous evening had been about 12:10 a.m.
SUNDAY, July 4, 1976

I got up about 8:00 a.m.

It's mainly a gloomy day, so I don't feel too bad about staying indoors. CKDA is playing the all-time top 300 oldies. I sure wish I had a stereo system like Mark's.

I'm planning on going jogging at the track tonight if I'm not too full, and if my right foot allows; the side at the instep occasionally feels painfully as if a bone has dislocated.

Later I napped for 1½ - 2 hours, coming around with non-existent music (a sort of squeeze-box Lapaloma) from a radio playing while I and some others in a false reality were loading up a pick-up.

It's been quite sunny out, I guess, but really the weather didn't improve till I felt it was too late in the afternoon to make the walk for sunshine worthwhile.

I'm going to go to a drugstore above 6th & 6th in search of August comics, then go to Bill's.

All I found were The Defenders

Only Bill's mother was home. She later phoned Mark's, and everyone was back; he showed about 8:30 p.m., or slightly before.

They left to take her home shortly after 9:30 p.m., and I came home at 10:00 p.m....to change. I'm not going for a run, just a walk.

But I didn't get far, only to the summit of the bridge; I was afraid of spending too much time.

Bed at 11:30 p.m.
After all of these years, I had to research to find out what the song La Paloma sounded like (that link is to an audio file) ─ I had thought that maybe I had meant the song Sweet Leilani

That's the damned trouble with the radio stations of today ─ they have abandoned all of the old songs I used to love to listen to that were still getting played on some stations back then.  

My old friend William Alan Gill only lived four or so blocks from my room. He had left the previous day to hook up with my younger brother Mark and Mark's girlfriend Catherine Jeanette Gunther, who had gone to a Ross Lake to camp ─ it would have been a drive of two hours or so to the east.

Bill's mother Anne Gregory ─ who had her own suite over in Maillardville ─ was always at Bill's apartment to do his cooking, cleaning, laundry, and whatever else.

In reading these old journal entries, I have the 'sensation' that I have spent most of my life alone since achieving adolescence ─ it sure feels to be so.
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