Sunday, November 12, 2006

Power Washing Again

The perp religion seems to be power washing on Sundays, at least for the noise of it, which "arrived" as soon as I took the ear muffs off due to the penetrating pounding overhead and concurrent zapping. Something like having one's head in a barrel and someone pounding on the barrel.

And one of the perp's favorite harassment is to incurr extra dishes washing, usually after one has thought it to be finished; a bright reflective patch of olive oil "shows up" after the pan is hung up to dry. This game happens at least 10x per week, and the perps make sure I am suitably pissed and vocal about it. (And now that I have re-read this, I can see that I was mind-controlled to carry on about "washing" in a different context, all for some sick agenda the perps have me on).

Presently I have overhead squeaking and clunking noises ongoing, and that is the identical activity of the said to be evicted tenant of 10-31-2006. And this noise is entirely consistent with past locations in wood frame constructed building with overhead residents, or noise-like facsimilies thereof.

It has been raining all morning which makes it an exceptionally long downpour for Victoria, though not for Vancouver. I have no idea why the perps are launching more rain these days, though in the final years of covert harassment there was an exceptionally wet winter, in 1997-98 if I recall correctly. Though in the main, the last few years have been low rainfall, unusually so, and maybe this is the new pattern, more variability in rainfall between any given years.

A deep pumping rasping sound has started up, as if a distant steam engine were nearby. Another who-cares noise, though it has come into the "all-quiet" period where most of the noisescape has been silenced. I suspect it is to accompany my following complaint while being typed up. (True enough).

The perps got me going again when drinking tea. I drink it from a mug with a larger sized handle and fit three fingers through it, thumb and smallest finger excepted. And there is plenty enough of a handle to give me at least a quarter inch of space bettween my hand and the body of the mug. I never had a problem drinking hot beverages from my mug until recent months when the perps decided to create a burning sensation on my closest fingers to the mug body, and also, they slid my hand down the handle to make grasping awkward. What that translates to is putting the mug down and repositioning my fingers, at least twice per mugfull. Anyhow, it is totally irritating to have this happen as it wouldn't occur unless some asshole decided that drinking tea had to be fucked with. And I suspect is has to do with getting an interim energy reading on the mug between when I pick it up full and put it down empty. Just another example of the perps deciding to fuck with something that is of no seeming consequence.

I am back from so-called family dinner, and my brother joined me and my perp-abetting parents in this feral family event. And their usual extra waving of arms and hands was in order to tell any story, and my father did his stand-arounds and stand-in-front (of my mother or brother, the stacking of gangstalkers).

Worst was the "emo-trashing"; having me all weepy over the Ed Bradley memorial special on 60 Minutes for the entire hour. And I am totally pissed over this because it is not a reaction I would have if left alone. The perps inject this over emoting at any opportunity when I am watching TV (with family, the only time, as I don't have a TV). Ed Bradley was a fine news correspondent, and he will be missed to be sure, but I never emote over these kind of events, ever. A half hour later and I am still not totally recovered from this sick minded intrusion. Anyhow, it is back in this rooming house, and listening to the storm that is blowing in, all the while the operatives walk the hall and use the next door bathroom in their gangstalking routines.

When leaving the parents' place, they put on the combination obstacle course and gangstalk on the way out of the door, which means that it was both of them in close, instead of only one doing that when I arrive. This constant game of pretending to be oblivious to their own rudeness. And more weird behavior from my father, grasping the partial bottle of wine and waving it around and pretending not to know what to do with it, as his glass was filled, and he hadn't drunk any of his. The perps keep me on a highly freaked out reaction to his bizarre actions, though in fact if I were in charge of me, I would be a whole lot more relaxed about this blatant abetting of the Supreme Sickos. He doesn't behave like any demetia patient that I have seen, though I am not an expert by any means.

And it was battery replacement for the smoke alarm, I was the "duty person", though this is another feint on the perps' behalf. They have rolled batteries toward me in some of their early overt games, and are sure to put on extra gangstalkers around any battery section that I pass by. They also put on battery purchasers ahead of me, some with stunts over the "wrong size" who then go back to the shelves from the checkout line (small stores only). Plain fucking tiresome. Who is screwing me over and when are they going to stop this venality?

Time to call this a post, and ponder what tomorrow brings in the way of stunts and harassment.

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