Friday, March 02, 2007

A New Frypan

The perps were cranking up my mood this morning by pissing me off; one blatant mind-fuck stunt was to have me go to the bathroom for a shower without my soap, shampoo and conditioner, and instead bring some facial soap that I use only at nightime. As this habit has been established for 6 months now, I fail to understand how this could represent a clinical problem. It is overt and blatant mind control designed to have me do stupid things and not notice.

I walked into town to get a new frypan, and the freakshow began to build up as I got closer. There was a sleet-snow mixture falling, and that was excuse enough to bring on the myriad umbrellas. The one remaining department store was my first choice, and after 10 minutes of looking, I got a 12" pan for $100 thinking it was a good deal, as some were $300. It has the aluminum base to distribute heat, where the old Copco, had copper with a laminate of steel to protect the copper. And it seems, that might have been the problem for the perps, as one doesn't see that design any more, the heat distribution base is usually all aluminum, even for the high end pots and pans.

I was actually left alone to shop, a rare treat. And as soon as I had decided on the Cusinart, a East Indian woman wearing a brown duffel coat suddenly arrives 10' away, and glares at me for some reason. I reckon this was the perps' brown color test, brown skin under a brown coat.

I head off to the service desk/cashier, and one cashier takes off, leaving only one to attend to the particular woman/shill who insisted on a box when the item didn't come with one. So this gives the cashier a reason to come out from behind the counter and strut by, and then again when she came back with bubble wrap. Somehow, this was OK for the customer/shill without any negotiation. When my turn came there was the deal over the yellow plastic bags, only a very large size was availible, and as yellow is also a perp color on interest these days, that is what I got. At one point, the cashier demonstrated the oversized bag by pulling it up, and obstructing herself from my view for a second or two. And while at the cashier a surge of four grannies came toward me, split up, and then dithered about once they got past me, to then gangstalk my elevator egress.

To make a long story short, the freakshow was on again when I got out, this time it was the males' shift to strut about on a weekday in their scarlet anoraks and/or umbrellas. Usually they also have the males put on a big gut and make sure that I see them in profile, from the side. It seems to be a "look at my large gut" component to it.

And as always, a new item is an opportunity for the perps to exploit the situation and mess with the frypan's ability to reheat the tortillas (slower), but somehow they "stuck" to the pan to create a further problem in removing the encrusted tortilla substance.

And while on my shopping trip to downtown, another streetsweeper cruised by, which almost makes it a 100% appearance for a vehicle in the past two weeks that is normally used in the early morning.

I am back from another Chicken Run gangstalk to the grocery store; this is where I purchase a hot and cooked chicken and take it home and when cooled, this is my protein source for the next 2 to 3 weeks. And as the perps have unbounding interest in what I eat, and especially protein, this is a big ganstalk event. True enough, the wandering hordes were out there, and they even put on a number of teleporters and these people come from nowhere it seems, and always when I am not looking. This time they put on the color reference 2'x3' black mat cardboard stunt, borne by an operative on her shoulder oddly, and this time it was wrapped in clear plastic. I thought this was pathetic if this is where the assholes are after 5 years of overt torture and harassment. Many of the gangstalkers are bearing plastic bags and they usually rustle, shake or otherwise move them about in my proximity. The laundromat is a ideal place for that routine, and the frequency has increased of late.

Anyhow; it was a seriously gangstalked event with putting two gangstalk parties at each location I went, and they kept me skunked again in getting gluten free bread from the freeze cases. As before, and gangstalker was there, and after I skipped this and came back, he was still there five minutes later. And still no stock of my particular favorite GF bread. And there were more revolting yellow jacket both outside and inside the store, and they ran one of these fuckers in parallel to me at the checkout after he gangstalked me in the store's aisles.

Once I get the above chicken home, I de-skin and de-fat it as much as possible and eat some off the bird as my first meal from it. I am positive the perps like this too, as the act of cutting meat seems to create problems for them. And, given how long they have managed this grim event in all its forms such as battle, wars, butcher shops etc., I fail to see why the perps should unload this obsession onto me.

The maser beams and plasma beams are abounding currently and were before I left for the Chicken Run. And that means me too, as I am just one of the many objects that are irradiated, and therefore pulsing energy in some odd way. And of course no one mentions anything, and also, the topic just doesn't "come to mind" when I am outside.

Voice-morphing and its volume governance prevented me from yelling at the asshole who hammered the heat vent between the bathroom and my room. And a zapping came with it, that over done startle "reaction", managed by the perps for maximum harassment.

Not only have I been through at least three voice versions today, but the perps make sure to draw the air out of me from yelling at the bozos who have this bizarre need to "adjust", loudly as possible, the heat vent when there is plenty of heat in the bathroom.

The perps pulled the same thing when I was in bed this morning; an outside noise erupted when I was lying in bed about to get up, no big deal, it wasn't that close. Then, some seconds later the same noise occured with a coincidental zapping that momentarily lifted me, or at least my legs, off the matress by a small amount. Which is proof positive that there is a coincident zapping and it is not my startle reflex.

A coughing outbreak and related commotion has erupted in the hallway, and for good measure, the overhead tromping noise has been added. Yet another noise flurry it seems, and it all got launched when after reading text only for some five minutes, I clicked on a new link which showed the back of a blonde woman's head on a book cover. That is when the noise flurry began with front door slammings, and the rest of the activity detailed above. I am always under the microscope as to what I do, see and think, the little that isn't mind controlled. And the blonde "aura" mystery of the perps continues.

I get up to have some water, and in the parking lot the perps have arranged a vehicle with its lights on, and the passengers getting out some 10 seconds later. It is beyond reason as to why there is one or more active vehicles in, or turning in, the parking lot on the rare moments that I am looking out. For yesterday's dinner and dishes, which lasts at most 10 minutes, they put put on three of these headlight shows, which I call pitlamping. And it was done in the daytime with a commercial truck's headlight aimed at me when I was downtown.

Another zapping that coincided with me reading a summary of a memoir about a father sending his teenage daughter to work. Why this is of any interest to a criminal organization that monitors what I read in real time, who won't represent themselves, is beyond me. Stupider and stupider is the way these assholes think.

I am my third LCD display blackout tonight; the screen goes blank and the fridge clicks, and it is all over in a second or two. All other power, even from the same outlets, is unperturbed. Another joke from the perps who seem to lapse into juvenility at the onset of a weekend. There are often two distinct harassment personalities they inflict upon me, weekdays, and then their shiftworkers on the weekends. It was the weekend crew that hit me with the hardest headpains in 2002.

I am getting fucked over for object recognition and am intensely pissed with it, even if a small example. There is a white paint splash on the counter that is near where I was pouring water in a glass, but wasn't central in my vision, so the perps planted the notion that it wasn't paint, but a piece of plastic that somehow got there. So, I got pissed with this out loud, as it now appears that I am not allowed full, complete, and unimpaired access to my own knowledge. This is thought crime at its lowest point, and when that happens, there is only one way it is going to go in my experience, and that is lower.

And another LCD display "blackout" before I was allowed to start the above paragraph, all part of being thoughtstalked, so one can be screwed some more.

And as I was looking at a book online, and recognized the author, the perps shook this room and added a small boom sound into it as well. There is no cognitive freedom for me whatsoever.

A round of orchestrated contention has been scripted for me to overhear. A woman and a man arguing in the parking lot for the benefit of the neighborhood. I get one of these every 4 weeks or so, usually in this putative rooming house, but this time, in public. It does remind me of past rounds with Ms. C of the story who would constantly instignate stupid arguements that just didn't add up. And now they are getting closer, all for me to hear more of. Such fucking tedium.

Enough to call this a posting, and blog off.

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