On at 3rd July, 2008 8:00 PM EST, here; Edge on Thursdays.
1530h
It has been a very busy week while my PC was in the shop getting a new case, a lovely new quiet Antec Solo. The perps are making me feel odd that I am back to blogging activity again, and the noise environment that is currently going on, along with the typo sabotage as I type this, is horrendous.
Everyone should know that my new PC is a glossy black case, with the front panel a muted silver grey. (See pictures below). The only lights on the front of the case are the blue LED ring around the on switch. No more of the white and red lights that were mysteriously added to the last case behind the plastic front bezel each time I took it to the shop. Later mysterious modifications to the old PC case included a routed vertical groove in the front plastic, which was later routed through revealling the lights, and then later filled in with a transparent plastic as if it was a planned design element. This new case weighs plenty, and I did not have the opportunity to get a Nexus Breeze case with a carrying handle. The perps have me obessed over obtaining or fabricating a PC carrying handle, and I have no idea as I don't move the PC case very far as a rule, only to the shop when a component "fails". While with my brother yesterday, helping him out on his scrap metals sorting, I scooped a nice piece of stainless steel that I thought would serve as a backing to support a handle on the top of the PC, but given its weight, it is totally inadequate.
And it "so happened" when I was transporting this glossy PC case in the back of my parent's vehicle to my apartment, from the shop, that there was a glossy black full size pickup in front with a large white fiberglass camper on it, right in the heart of downtown. And lo, if the camper didn't lead ahead of me, turning onto my residential street and park outside my building while I was getting the PC out of the vehicle. When I returned my parent's vehicle, and took the bus with a full size freakshow on board one and a half hours later, the same glossy black truck/camper was still parked outside my apartment . I suppose packing a black object under my arm for the few minutes it was left some residual bioenergetic activity, and the perps wanted to have this truck in place in an attempt to recreate whatever reference color gains it provided them when it was vehicularly gangstalking me with the PC in the back of the vehicle.
Get all that, the story above? My life has been very active over the last week, and I am not sure whether I should list it all in one bullet list and so only those frequent regular readers and TI's will understand, or else drop a precis altogether. Getting the PC was likely a crowning moment for the perps as it represented its first shutdown since 01-2007. And I suppose getting back online today too is also a big moment as I reaquaint myself with the news and blogs that I regularly read. The PC was taken in a week ago, and was protracted by a weekend, a special order to get the Antec Solo, a national holiday, and finally I was able to retrieve it by borrowing my parent's vehicle, but taking the bus to their place and back to avoid inconveniencing them.
And of course, I had to suffer the idiotic freak show that was on the bus, going in both directions, and with ten times the number of regular passengers that would be making that trip out to the suburbs at 0930h, and then downtown at 1330h.
I am getting many red shirted dudes in my proximity, and by recounting the bus trips experiences I will provide examples. They had three weirds waiting for me at the bus stop when I was outbound, one black curly headed dude had a red shirt with a tie on, and looked totally ridiculous in business dress at a city bus stop. Then two more weird dudes "drifted in" just ahead of the bus arriving, and joined the throng of six in all. (Two of the five waiting gangstalkers/passengers got off at the same bus stop). The red shirted dude got on ahead of me and picked my usual spot to sit, and so I sat well away from him. And lo, within three stops, the assholes put on a new red-shirted male gangstalker dude, who "happened" to sit behind me, to my left side in the usual one-sided pattern they like to loiter with.
The gangstalkers were heavy on Asian gangstalkers this trip, and then added four negros later, all of whom mysteriously got off the bus after making only short trips. Normally, the perps will pull a negro off the bus within five minutes if he is in my view. This time, they put all the negro passengers behind me, and may have teleported a few, as I don't know how they all got there. One negro got in the new classic method; he was sauntering along the crosswalk ahead of the bus, the bus got held up by a right turning vehicle, and as soon as the negro was at the bus stop on the opposite side, without breaking into a run or turning his head in anyway whatsoever, he gets on boards the bus as it pulls up beside him. I was not too surprised to see him in a yellow shirt, as the perps have been on a big yellow color initiative of late, he being only one variant/permutation of yellow clothing color and skin color.
When at my parent's place this morning, I first drove my mother to the bank, and waited in the small waiting area while she went to the short queue that should have taken no longer than five minutes. But no, it took at least 15 minutes, and became the biggest excuse to parade at least 200 ambulatory gangstalkers past me, some making the back and forth move. And oddly, the back and forther's shoes made different noise dependent upon which direction they were headed. And lo, if another humungous red shirted dude didn't "arrive" in the bank, and join the ATM queue which was viewable from where I was. There was even an ATM availible, and he kept standing there in mid floor, all to have more "dipshit time", looking stupider for longer, a new trait the gangstalkers have come to practice. When he finally finished at the ATM's, he then did some door duty, and opened the door for some other bank "customers", playing up the overgracious fool act. He then did a 360 degree turn, stopped for some extra posing time, and then departed.
If this wasn't stupid enough, a yellow dressed East Indian woman who had been in the ATM line, 18' away, then arrived in the waiting area, talking to herself. Then she pulls out a yellow banana, and starts eating it. Finally my mother arrives, wearing yellow today, note, and we head back to the vehicle to drive a block to the grocery store, and the same infernal yellow dressed East Indian woman was at the adjacent bus stop. We do the grocery shopping, which also became a freakshow with reprising gangstalkers, and then wrap it up to have lunch. Afterward, I borrow the Ford Escape, and go to the PC repair shop and pickup my PC. I had plenty of vehicular gangstalking action, including some fuckwit turning his red minivan around in front of me in the constrained adjacent parking area. This PC repair shop was formerly located about 60' S., but is now located in a new building, after the old one was razed and made into a parking lot. Long time readers will know that there is a long history of new buildings being put up in my proximity, including a 60 story office tower in Seattle with a concurrent 30 story residential tower outside my apartment at the time.
Anyhow, at the PC repair shop, my PC was packed in the Antec box with its protective foam, and I asked if it was OK if I unboxed it, and it was (surprise), and I even recieved some needed help to extricate it. The perps love to have brown cardboard boxes around me, and it is all the better that it be close by, and removed only a short time beforehand. And lo, if the technician who I spoke with on the phone didn't "pop by" in all his baldness, and then enlighten me on the features of the new PC case, and the work that he undertook. It seemed like he did a thorough job, and this was all to move and bob his bald head about in close proximity, (1' away, both of us looking into the PC case). The perps cranked up my "reaction" to his bald head to be near hurling, but only when he wasn't looking. The new PC case barely fits under my arm, and is at least 30 lb, and very difficult to carry under my arm. I cannot count the number of times he used the term "case" in varying contexts, and that also applies to me over the past week.
I drove out of the PC repair building, and there was at least ten vehicles passing back and forth, timed to come from the left when the right side was free, and vice versa. Then when mobile, I took a main arterial street into downtown, which had to be one of the biggest vehicular gangstalking events ever, likely some 1,000 vehicles in a six lane wide roadway. There were clusters of six white colored vehicles at a glance, even clusters of four black colored vehicles, and my every present posse of selective red vehicles posted around me, usually three at a time, often with another three or more posted elsewhere at the intersection, headed in other directions. I mentioned the black camper truck above, as my lead-ahead gangstalker, "happening" to stop only two parking spaces behind me. Anyhow, an ambulatory rude-dude, about the only way they come now, was ahead of me at the apartment door, didn't bother with any niceities of keeping the door open for me encumbered with the very awkward PC under my arm. I managed to catch the door before it closed and locked, and as I was glaring at this impoliteness, he turns his head at the same moment this "thought" occured. This has happened many times before; some (usually) asshole distinguishes himself, either by being rude, or awfully like someone I know, and then as I look at them, or even mutter under my breath, they turn their heads toward me at that same instant, even if they haven't seen or heard me.
Then the asshole gets in the elevator ahead of me, and I notice he is wearing the same color of clothes as I am, navy blue top, and navy blue jeans. Finally, the PC was placed in my apartment, and I left it unconnected and I took my parent's vehicle back to their place with another vehicular contingent that must of numbered some 1,000 mobile vehicles for that partial trip leg alone.
I got back to my parent's place, left the vehicle there, and took the first bus back. And lo, if that infernal above mentioned yelollow dressed East Indian woman wasn't getting off the bus at the front door before I could get on. Her trip didn't make any sense at all. I reckon she must of have been a morphover my my East Indian sister-in-law, as the perps devoted so much effort to "featuring" her, beyond any level of expectable coincidence.
Then, as the bus progressed, the freak show on board did too. I got a blonde haired dude sitting two seats in front of me in a red shirt, he doing his prerequisite head flicking, lean forwards and partial stand ups, just like my father. (Maybe it was him in morphover, being the identical move). Then, the perps added another shiftless dude in a red shirt to my right, two seats away. I was red-shirted with two dudes, both seeming out of work on a weekday. Amazing how many of these dudes should be at their day jobs instead of loitering around me to be seen in these hideous red shirts.
Another freak on the bus was a dude packing a cardboard box, as if it were a new purchase, and that he "somehow" forgot to take a bag. He planted himself just in front of the red shirted dude, and I suppose supplied "needed" brown color (the box), behind the red color. There was an intervening blue seat, and the box packing weird was in a lighter blue outfit.
The freak show wasn't over once I got off the bus, as I was compelled to go grocery shopping before I got to my apartment as the assholes soured the goat milk before its due date. I had my three time reprising gangstalkers in the grocery store, making sure to loiter at the exit while they were in the store as "customers". And then again, another freak cluster on the street, with another skinhead, "happened" to be going to the same apartment building and joined me in the elevator until I got out at my floor. The gangstalking is getting as brazen as it is freakish.
2245h
I have decided to add some pictures into these blog postings over the next few days to add to the collection of the Orchestrated Harassment Show, surely a too polite term for what this constant torment really is.
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