Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Another Snow Job

It is exceedingly rare to have more than one snow storm in Victoria, BC (Yahoo map display fucked) in a winter, but it happened today. And, by my take on all things strange that continue to plague me, this one is a perp operation writ large. Yessir, basic weather manipulation, nothing new for those assholes. And lo, if the furnace didn't pack it in coincidentally last night in this putative rooming house that is the focus of so many strange events, most of them detailed in past blogs. As I am typing this, they have "chilled" my hands some and rendered them a little arthritic as I am keystroking, as if the coolness of the room is causing it. It is not that cold yet in here, but I imagine there are more disruptive hijinx to follow, as there has been quite a few in the last 14 hours.

This blog posting maybe delayed for a few days, as I don't know what the outcome is going to be vis a vis the furnace that ordinarily pukes out way to much heat and was happily rumbling away at the time I went to sleep last night. But at least the coordinated coughing has continued apace, should there be anything amiss with all the environmental impositions the perps have scripted. And still, they never get over the cough, these putative neighbors of mine.

More ructions of operatives in the hallways and their toilet flushing (only) trips to the bathroom next door. I was told the furnace is "warming up" and there there is ample fuel for it to function. More fiction that "I" am not allowed to challenge, the curse of being a total mind-fucked door mat. The operatives started up another noise flurry while I was reading a piece on the US military's futuristic plans of the battlefield. There is tremendous perp interest anytime they script me to read about warfare, military and war materiel. That interest is best known to me by their noise flurries which are getting more complex, and they like to add a screaming woman's voice into the mix, which was a rarity before. They are on at least their third such noise feed today, and it is still light out.

I have a blue fleece jacket over my black shirt I am wearing, and the furnace has at least begun to hum and blow cool air, and perhaps sometime they will have actually heat this room up to its usually cooked state that begs a window to be opened. Though likely not tonight, as there is at least 4" of snow out, and temperatures remain decidedly cool.

Back to today's laundry hijinx that was scripted; I used two washing machines and it "so happened" that one didn't start even with the plastic token in place and the light on the machine went on. Never in my life have I failed to notice a washing machine starting, and I have been tested of late with the plastic tokens not working "somehow". But it happened today with the snowstorm outside, and was only found out when the other load was put in the dryer. And it so happened that the first load was finished drying when the second load was completed washing. In other words, two washing machines that normally run in parallel (same time), and the load combined in the same dryer at the same time, were perp managed to be serial (sequential) operating, excepting the same dryer was used.

Which of course takes more time, and more weirds, as in scripted blatant gangstalking acts. There was the Man in Yellow (coat), now a daily garment exposure, looking for phone booth, and the man with a brown anodized small suitcase and large umbrella dropping off a resume, and then the regular boyfriend act of the only attendant, Goth Girl, in her floor length black sweaters. He even nodded at me as he passed by, and for my part, I have no problem re-identifying anyone who I have seen, but somehow I was not allowed to recall who this guy was momentarily, which was to foil any response I may have made to his passing recognition. All these first time events, and all related to my cognitive abilities being remotely dithered IMHO.

There were a few more gangstalking visitations while I spent extra time at the laundromat today, and especially to provide plenty of reason to flick plastic bags about, and also double bag laundry in my direct line of sight, some 6' away, a transparent bag in this case over white laundry. The plastic bag noise has also increased, and as far as I can tell, this is their way of mapping neural auditory response to the motions of colored plastics. And from what I can tell, they have a very long way to go on this, and I sense I will be blogging in 2008 over all this inanity that the World Gestapo arranges around me.

While the one washing machine was running (and thinking it was both), I made a trip to the nearby drugstore to get my medication as it had conveniently run out yesterday, and I did suspect that it had drawn down faster than normal of late. And in another "somehow", I had not noticed that it was so low to take preventive action and order a refill before it ran out. There was about 3" of snow on the ground, and it was coming down thick, and it occured to me that there were an unusual number of pedestrians (aka ambulatory gangstalkers) out who were wearing white, and a few wearing both white and black. Even Mr. Passport Tosser made his 8th reprise gangstalking, this time with a young woman, hopping for "auric glow' (or whatever the reason is) to be transfered from her to him.
For a once-executive dressed dude gangstalking me on a rare helicopter commute to Seattle (when I was working there), and then "joining me" in two hospital stays in 2002 and 2003, this fucker has amazing sticking power to keep "showing up".

And he wasn't done with just one pass-by, he and his mate were walking toward me with the now traditional coffee (think brown) cups leading ahead of them (carrying them by holding them at forearms' length in front of them, as if to remove them from their body as far as possible). This is now standard, and has been seen in other gangstalking instances. After I was finished at the pharmacy and walked back to the laundromat, he and his mate had somehow contrived their timing to be just ahead of me at the laundromat, which means that they must of hung out somewhere to do this, as there was no place to shop or otherwise linger.

The pharmacy was another case of the ambulatory gangstalkers putting on extra operatives to address their "brown problem". The chocolate aisle was aligned with the Rx waiting queue, and there was four male operatives in white shirts and black pants (plus other "customer" gangstalkers) on "stocking duty" over the length of the aisle, and were equi-spaced no less. Another operative was some 10' away, in a navy blue outfit, knees on the floor and shoe soles pointed behind him, doubled over MORE chocolate (not in the chocolate aisle), and stocking an aisle-end display.

Yessir, it looked that he was decidedly out of place in his spiffy navy blue pants and sweater, in one of the more supplicative postures going, as some kind of color differential beacon to his pals in black and white who were on reference duty in another aisle in some kind of distance dependent formation. And here he was, literally laboring over the placement of chocolate bars (placed underneath his gut), the number one needless "food" item the perps have me purchase and eat when I cannot afford it.

As noted in past blogs, there have been past times when I did not want to smell chocolate, so I take the current "need" as being the perps up to their mind-fuck games again, on account of their brown color problem they inadvertently carved in my psyche in a long past fuck up of huge proportions they knew about by when I was 6 y.o. This would be back in the remotely applied child torture days, which was the covert period, before they went nuts on me 4.5 years ago. Not my brown problem, so why am I being harassed over it, and see this bizarre bullshit of these 5 males "laboring" over chocolate in my proximity while I am very obviously irradiating some kind of energy?

And related to this, last night's "blocked" toilet magically fixed itself for today and the operatives didn't try to fake it by bringing in a plumber. I was the last person to take a crap in it yesterday afternoon, and per usual, I unblocked it with the plunger. And the peprs also plastered my ass with shit again and I had to have a shower to "clean up". This stunt has gone on for three craps in succession, quite the string of abuse, and is the most they have done to date. No doubt this was a "crap exposure" ramp-up to the above games in the drug store today with the operatives hunkering over chocolate bars. I say that is far too genteel, let them crap their own pants, defeat my olefactory senses temporarily, have them gangstalk me then and then see what happens. (Who knows, it may have been done; e.g. a 5000 gallon septic tanker tractor trailer parked on my walking route three weeks ago). If my analysis (and if it is mine and not mind-fucked), is correct, one can surmise how absolutely stark raving crazy nuts/depraved/idiotic the perps are in maintaining this game of "pretend"; as in not leaving evidence and keeping a cover story in most cases.

This is post mealtime noise flurry time. The heating has not yet come on to its prior "cook me" levels of output, and no doubt this is all being managed to a fine degree for whatever perps benefits there may be. There has been some noise flurries over the putative furnace problem, and the manager is enjoining the fray by spraying the halls with "air freshener". He has been overheard to talk about switches in his hallway pacing sessions on the cell phone, all in keeping of the premise that the furnace is still having a mechanical problem that has not yet been found. Meanwhile, it is decidedly cool in this room as I type, and the typo sabotage is just as frequent as ever.

As part of the scenario, I had a warm dinner for the first time in two weeks, putting chopped ham inside the tortilla on the fry pan with added melted cheese over a tapenade base. One can tell how much perp interest there is in this new event (food preparation) by the crumb count. There were at least 10 tortilla crumb eruptions, some ham crumbs that erupted from the package, and at least four cheese crumbs. The fuckers also flicked tapenade onto the wall beside the hot plate, and mind-fucked me into "forgetting" about cleaning it up after the meal. Some olive oil also lept off the spatula and went to the floor in another never-before display of food flicking.

And there is plenty of irradiation emanating from this LCD display along with added masers and shifting plasma over blocks of text. This must be a big moment is food digestion energetics assay, and no doubt the snow outside aids in temperature variation.

More furnace repair-like motions are in effect, including running the smell of fuel oil up my nose. Another stunt was to rattle the shit out of the vent that sits in the wall between my room and the bathroom. As if vent adjustment has something to do with furnace operation. No doubt more games will play out on this one, and who knows, perhaps other perp obessions will be served; asphalt games, shit games, vehicular operation games, and so it goes, the endless list of sick minded objectives that is carved into my back. Other obsessions have been served today; laundry (again re-wetting my jeans in the laundry tote duffel bag enroute from the laundromat), chocolate (per above), vehicle colors (extra rush hours today, even one of traffic heading into the city in a snowstorm) , but I don't expect any reprieve. Meanwhile the coughing and hacking continues, and there will be other noise flurries before long.

Finally some heat, albeit slowly. Apparently the filter was a problem, and my impression was that it was somehow mangled. It is amazing the bullshit that gets thrown at me, and I am not allowed to call it. Nor am I permitted to bring forward past bullshit from the same quarter, like the "furnace is heating up". If it had been the filter it would be going all day, as the thermostat would of not registered any rise in temperature.

Now, as if typo sabotage wasn't enough, it is text mashing time. Sections of text will "self-insert" elsewhere, usually "self garbling" as well. I am not making this up, it has been happening more often, and there is no action I knowingly took to cause it. So far, I get directed to fix it up, otherwise it would still be in place.

An outside my door zipper and velcro noise event; why does it happen here? I have been noisestalked with these items in public before and I surmise the stresses on the colored plastic cause certain energies to occur, and the perps are attempting to dectect some kind of neural based energetic correlates with the coincident noise and plastic stresses (by color). Just my read of their stunts, as colors and plastics are arranged all too often.

Earlier today on the way to the laundromat, a city maintenance crew, in the snow storm, started a hole dig at the sidewalk which gave them a great excuse to place an excavator and a red cabbed large dump truck on the sidewalk and reroute pedestrian traffic onto the road. This is normal; digging and like roadworks are started up every few months proximate to where I live or frequent. Anyhow, when walking back, the worker started up the gasoline powered cutoff saw and cut a white 4" PVC pipe as I was going by. And at least three more gangstalkers were also on me at this time, though I did not recognize any of them.

No doubt this was another PVC exposure job, and the fuckers don't seem to have got it that I laid some 600' of it on this farm I co-owned with the then (1996) spy-spouse at the time. In fact, weirdly, she wanted the additional 300' of telco reddish brown colored pipe laid in with the white 2" water line. I could never figure out why she was so strangely behaviored about this until this nightmare revealed itself in all the limited aspects that I currently know of. And the perps made sure that I could not acquire pipe shears, but instead had to cut the pipe with a backsay and clean it up with a file. Once I had finished the job, and was ready to get rid of this economic disaster, pipe shears became availible, which I used for the last few small jobs.

Last week the perps steered me onto a section of sidewalk where I walked between a row of white PVC chairs and a parked truck with 20' lengths of PVC pipe attached on the rack. This fucking around with plastics, and PVC in particular, never seems to end. And another round of forced coughing breaks out to noisestalk the above "wisdom", almost an affirmatory note of reiterating what they planted in the first place.

A front end loader has arrived with yellow lights flashing, and into this room especially, to move the snow from the adjacent parking lot. This is the same parking lot that stayed snowbound for two days last time before any move was made to clear it. But not today, it is late, and still snowing, but someone wants a yellow light flashing job done on me.

And it was over in five minutes, and the backhoe did pass outside my room with plenty of yellow lights being beamed in here.

Again, the emanations are getting very strong off the LCD display and so it is time to blog off.

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