Monday, March 31, 2008

Freak Show and Freak Weather

A post-stayover day after spending the evening and night at my parent's place, both of them confirmed gangstalkers IMHO. The clattering has started up as I create this blog posting; outside, hallway and upstairs, the latter seeming to be the source of hand sawing noise of an erratic nature. I know all those noises, and whatever is going on up there doesn't make a lick of sense, never mind not having carpets like every other apartment in the building.

I took the city bus into downtown this morning; another freakshow that built up over the ride. A Monday 1037h bus from the suburbs, and yet it gets near full each time, and has very few seat choices when I get on board. Today it was a rear facing seat so I could not see what was going on up front. A blonde on the cell phone for the whole time was in the diagonal seat, and her blue-green leather handbag was directly opposite me. Then incrementally the shiftless males slithered in around her from later stops, all to capture the "auric glow" from blondes and attempt to replicate that as to why I fucking loathe the Unfavored as much as I do. While I cannot answer that question, it seems that the assholes who created that problem for themselves aren't going to bother to tell me, and would rather continue with the bizarre goings on that pass for "normal". Enough weird events go on in a week that should last anyone a year or more, and yet no one will even discuss the cummulative improbability of this entire persecution.

And of course I get the coughing and hacking around me wherever I go, no matter the season. And when it came time for me to get off the bus, why, a sleet flurry had just begun, dropping little prills of white onto the street. I had my bozo show all ready for me when I get off, the Asian sentry woman in a brown coat just standing around in a parking lot, the =dufus riding his bicycle across the crosswalk and looking elsewhere the entire time, and then the security guard having just exited the just arrived amoured van to then parallel me walking on the street, and a few other freaks. Then there was about eight of them outside the apartment, and inside in the elevator lobby, and lo, if there wasn't a "problem" with one being used for moving a bed and steel frame, (no moving truck anywhere), and some other shiftless fucks hanging around, and so I took the stairs instead. It is six flights and doesn't bother me to use them, and lo, if the perps hadn't prepared themselves with spilt coffee on the fifth floor landing. I cannot tell you how many times I get the spilled coffee stunt in stairwells, but it is very common, and originates in the pre-overt harassment days. Regular readers will know that the perps have a total obsession with all things brown, it being an Unfavored color, and routinely expose me to this in all manner of guises. The above mentioned Asian sentry stalker would be a case of brown skin and a brown coat. And there was a tanned skinhead in the above mentioned "greeting" party at the apartment, and another variant was having the skinhead negro loiterer also there in the lobby. And yes, the perps did force me to take a crap this morning at my parents place, and the bathrooms are none too clean.

And no less, they, or more likely the perps, fouled the can of shaving foam I leave there, putting on some blood-like stain on it, as if my father had used it, which he doesn't. In fact, I don't know how he shaves as there is no evidence that he has done so. The entire house is a mess, and would not pass muster in my book for all the debris and clutter that it has. Which makes it a perfect perp setup, as all these odd things that "arrive" aren't as incongruous as they would be at my place. Anyhow, it is clear there is many more brown color themes going on; the clutter in the kitchen has added brown foods and items that they never use, and just "happen" to arrive ahead of me cutting up the roast, another perp obsession of the first order.

I have been putting off doing my income tax for weeks as it is such a hassle in the way of the perps creating all these hoops and "misunderstandings". Finally, I summoned the courage, (read, was mind-controlled as to my motivation), and it was all over in about 10 minutes with none of the fuckery of last year. That is, until I tried to print it, and then the paper supply was mysteriously depleted to force replenishing it in mid-printing, and then the printer would not accept the normal 1/4" thick stack, but instead, less paper was put in, but was only allowed after I screamed at the assholes for fucking me around yet again. That was the net result of at least five jerkarounds all over loading the paper in the printer.

And yes, it was too easy after all. The government tax site would not accept my authorization, even twice round, and so a forced phone call to get this figured out. A fucking orchestrated hassle is always assured when it comes to undertaking any financial matters, save the grocery store.

There seems to be some kind of connection with the color brown and the timing of financial activity. I had just finished eating chocolate with my tea before I undertook my income tax return preparation, and there has been identical timing as to recent online banking activity. Furthermore there has been brown dressed gangstalkers coming from nowhere to arrive beside me at the checkout when paying by debit card for my groceries. Go figure, as I can't.

More thumping from overhead after I created a new file with the aid of a sharpie (felt pen); the noxious chemical smell is also something that favors the perps machinations I have come to know. I recieved a whole lot more of close-in gangstalking after using solvent to clean off the tar they slapped on the fridge at my last residence location, captured in a photo on this blog somewhere.

Finally, after a phone call, I am to understand that there are two types of access codes for filing income tax, different from last year. An access code for filing, and one for my account to see how the processing is going and any downstream communications. Go figure, and all a way to have me take two passes at doing one job; submitting an income tax return electronically.

And lo, if they didn't arrange for me to take crap immediately following dinner, and then have me undertaking the electronic tax return filing afterward. More brown color testing it would seem. More pointless jerking me around as far as I am concerned, and they had me rage-ified while making dinner, screwing me around with crumb inundations, self-propelled cheese crumbs landing on the floor, olive oil flickings and the tortilla mysteriously folding under itself. This is the current state of harassment over six years; fucking with how I make the same food every day. Utterly beserk as it is depraved.

More ongoing pounding as I read about rapacious Microsoft behavior in buying votes for their proprietory standard of OOXML to be adopted by the ISO as "open". It is a technical pissing match to be sure, but it is quite the issue for Microsoft to want to monopolize file formats. They must know something that we don't as to the future of online document storage. And then a big siren cascade erupted as I was putting in the link in this above paragraph; this is an exciting harassment moment for some sick minded fuckups.

After a 10 minute call with my brother, a siren cascade has erupted outside. That is, he phoned me, and got into his usual bitch script about his time constrained life. He has never articulated anything different, despite all my exhortations for him to get out of his rut. Anyhow, I suspect it is all about using certain perp theme words which I won't get into, so I won't feed the beast anymore than its current rapacious state.

Another outbreak of overhead pounding and then a coincident zapping. Yelling at the assholes seemed to help, though it is too early to be sure. The big excitement moment it all happened when I read the very name of a certain nameless metal that my brother "happened" to mention in our earlier phone call. Funny how these coincidences "happen", and now I get zapped for it.

More pounding has erupted overhead while I read an interview with Jim Keith, a conspiracy author. For those who don't know, I live in a concrete building on the sixth floor, and from what little I know about the construction of such buildings is that they have about 12" of concrete between floors. So how can all these noises truly come from human habitation in a carpeted apartment?

Time to call this day done, and blog off. There has been a considerable amount of noise tonight, and has been invariably coordinated with other noise, e.g. clicks of no ostensible cause, zappings, smells (still jamming Sharpie chemical smell up my nose after I had opened the window and turned the fan on for 30 minutes- a temporal neural sampling series with the same stimulus it would seem), vision impairments, plama games on the LCD display and other fuckery not allowed to be recalled.

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