Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Haircut Stalking

As one can imagine, if there is a malevolent party that makes a concerted effort to get their operatives close to their chosen victim, then any such normal day to day opportunities are decidedly exploitable. For longer duration and physical proximity, dentists and hair stylists would be ideal. And so it was, as it usually is, my each six week visit to get my haircut. Now, to be fair, there is no reason whatsoever to suspect my hair stylist is a dyed-in-the-wool operative, nor has he overtly tipped his hand at shilling for them. But the law of averages would strongly suggest he is at least cognizant as to what is going on, and may in some measure, be conducive to aiding a well-heeled party that spills money to even have the streets re-paved and/or re-painted to faciliate their venal inanity.

Like yesterday's appointment with the case counsellor, I felt strangely stuttered and halting in my speech with the hair stylist, and even though I was talking about a subject I know, I had plenty of difficulty in accessing my knowledge. There is something extremely strange going on that this would happen at all, let alone in similar circumstances. I suspect the perps might be dithering the coordinated faculties of speech and recall to attempt to detect some kind assignable energetic signature of each. This time, without the medication causal cover story.

Anyhow, the previous haircut customer was a white haired gentleman, and past blogs have identified some significant perp game in planting white haired gangstalkers about me. This time they went one more, and had some of the previous customer's white hair sitting, and stuck there, on the draped cover that stylists use to catch the clipped hair. So I had this white hari tuft sitting in front of me, and the perps made sure I looked at it as often as possible (attentional re-direction), and likely planted an extra adverse reaction to it. And lo, if the follow-on customer wasn't also a white haired male.

The perps like to put on the gangstalking pressure immediately following a hair cut, and they waited until the bus came. It was nearly full, and the one seat availible had a green backpack that the owner didn't see fit to move. And on the bus was my residence gangstalker, he of the adjacent parking lot (to my room) resplendent in his white hair. He was on sentry duty, where they place the gangstalker in mid aisle standing next to the driver even if plenty of seats are availible. And another one of the street gangstalkers also "happened" to be on the bus, he of the "open mouth" countenance, who even says or nods hello to me, though this time without his sidekick who walks ahead of him by two paces.

Anyhow, I got off the bus to go grocery shopping along with three others, one in black clothing, one in olive drab and black, and the third in a full olive drab coat, the same color as the raincoat I was wearing. The latter was native Indian or possibly Phillipino. No big deal, just another of the "color stalking" combinations that goes on nearly anytime I am outside, and even from the very limited view of my window. And yes, an olive drab dressed gangstalker was outside my room in the parking lot when I got back.

The perps appear to be scheduling more vision impairments in concert with planted noise. They were impairing my news reading and scripted an outside thunk to coincide with an impairment level surge.

And more obese gangstalkers, both blonde this morning. I don't know what the issue is for the perps, but scripting blondes does seem to be their entre to "auric goodness" as far as I can tell, with that only explanation being tenuous. And amazingly, there were two blonde head hairs on the carpet beside me in my room that I noticed when I was putting on my shoes before heading out. (The usual caveat applies as to whether I was directed to see them or it was my own elective cognizance). And to be clear, there are no visitors to my small room, and no blonde person that has entered it either, not even the cable and phone repairmen. More go figure.

More enragement games in making dinner tonight; the usual high harassment activity, now with more noisescape; helicopters, sirens, street whistling, loud mufflered vehicles, and even a walk-by gangstalker outside my window. Tonight the perps chose to piss me off by sliding the olive oil bottle 5" laterally and off the fridge to the floor, bottom down. Last week's same stunt tipped the bottle on its cap, upside down to then hit the floor. The cap was on, and no olive oil leaked out. And a few days ago while making dinner, the perps slid the peanut butter jar out of the fridge when the door was open to dump it on the floor. Is there a pattern there, or am I just imagining things? Anyhow, past battles with the perps over olive oil have been blogged, and this is just another.

Presently I have the overhead pounding and zapping combination through the ear muffs going on. Should I re-read something, or make a mental observation that wasn't directed by the mind controllers, this sound and sensation penetrates my hearing protection. All part of the fun of being under a microscope for every detail, even ones that I don't conceive of until I get reminded by noise, zappings, pain spikes, forced typos and other remotely applied phenomenon.

Time to call it a wrap for the day; some annoying booming sound from a nearby building was penetrating my ear muffs again, and so off with them. This game of putting them on and off per their noise stunts, and mind-controlled activity as well is endless. They are a dark green color, and this is a prime colorstalking color, though I don't much worry about any colors unless I find them repulsive.

And the perps do know which colors I find objectionable, and are sure to plant them in varying fabrics and material; plastics being very common. Hence the "plastic bag people" abounding; those (gangstalkers) who are packing plastic bags in my proximity, far more than there
ever was. They even put on a 3 tonne truck full of black plastic bags today, full of garments I suspect, that was next to the sidewalk on my route back to my room. (There is a second hand clothing store 30' away, which serves as a cover for the truck positioning and loading activity that goes on all day). The perps will also have their operatives tote those steel mesh shopping hampers full of plastic bags near me, or position them at the laundromat. Just to think, all those pollutants that I have absorbed are getting in the way of them figuring out what my energetic response is to plastic outside of me. This by the assholes who have the power to bend governments to their will, and yet they let it happen.

I read a book review on "psi energies" research, and it is quite fascinating to read about specific energy types that can penetrate lead and mercury. And I also learned there is an ultaviolet (UV) component to psi energies, hence the perps ensuring I have a plexiglas window, as it does not block UV like silicate glass does. (They have erected and placed plexiglas around me before, and also, have arranged coffee with my mother in a glass paneled room, that became gangstalk central for all the time I was there). And that would explain why the perps noisestalk me on every last detail of what I do; cut & paste, mouseclicking, creating a link etc.; they want to extract the psi energies of any and all that, plus everything else I do, as 100% mind control isn't enough. The perps are ungrateful sickos who have yet to explain or pay me out, despite the riches that "befall" those in my wake. Fucking depraved, and the city is rife with this utter venality.

And as I wrap up, a next door gangstalker to arrive in the bathroom and gangstalk me as I send this blog to be posted; presumably, for the psi energies of blog posting. A very common occurence, and tiresome in the extreme. Cue another firecracker noise, Halloween isn't over for the infinite juvenility that characterizes the perps' behavior.

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