Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Blood Sampling

A regular component of this harassment is being blood sampled in some way, and it is nothing like giving a sample at a medical lab. First off, my new sheets were soiled with a blood splat after their inaugural use last night. It was even a fresh red, and as before, there are no insect bites to account for it. (Though there is the ongoing cover story that the second bedbug spraying is now a week delayed). Then when washing my hands after a forced pee, the perps let me know that I had a spontaneous bleed on my right ear lobe which I cleaned up. Then when back at my desk, they put on a bedbug on my right arm which I crushed, sending blood over my fingers and necessitating another trip to the bathroom to clean up, inside of a minute of the prior blood sample. Then, they had me attend to the earlobe blood again, placing the stepic pencil on it in an attempt to staunch it. That makes four blood samples so far today, three inside of a minute.

The perps big event today is that after three weeks of intention, they finally let me get to the ATM and deposit my checks and cash. There was even an extra $50 bill that I couldn't account for. And I am sure their excitement relates to the fact that I was depositing $100's (brown) $50's (orange) and $20's (green) and thereby changing the color signature of my wallet, and of me by extension. (Kept in my back pocket). I also deposited two yellow colored checks, and given the escalated incidents related to that color of late, it seems that they want to test this color for wallet related effects as well. I did also have a purchase to make on the way back, using my debit card to acquire a box of pens, the Pilot V5, in blue color ink. And wouldn't you know, right in front of pens was a blue dressed male large gutted gangstalker, exactly in front these very pens, my standard make and model for the past six years of journalling this harassment.

I will be getting a haircut later today, and I am sure that this wallet utilization exercise if of significant timing for the perps. They always like me to get haircuts, sitting in a chair with various colored plastic sheets, and someone hovering over me.

The visit to the ATM this morning was fraught with the usual freakshow, including a mass of over 50 kids, aged 18 to 20 or so, at the opposite corner from the bank. They were there for both inbound and outbound legs, and I am sure had some kind of color reference duties, being entirely in the shade, while I was predominantly in the sunlit side of the street. And another gangstalker swarm to freeze me in place for a few seconds after exiting the bank, after my color signature change from depositing the above mentioned monies, as in colored paper.

And to also add to the ongoing yellow color games; I slept in my new off-white, almond colored sheets, and towel dried myself after my shower with similar colored towels. And too, an almond colored face cloth for shaving after using a pink facecloth (that morphed from a lilac color) for over six years. The latter suddenly got thin in the last month and its replacement was used for the first time this morning. So it would seem there is a big push on over the color yellow, partially confirmed by yesterday's pictures of yellow dressed gangstalkers in both shade and sunlit conditions at three discrete distances. Ever wonder why you don't see plain white Post-it Notes; or at least I don't get to see them in the stores.

Another futile expedition to the basement lockup to trove through stored clothing in preparation for an attempt at farm labor, and lo, no stored clothing of any kind. But in fact, it was a setup all round, as there is a 12" sewer pipe going through the lockups, and here was I, troving through blown boxes, some with a white finish on them. And to add to this, the perps hade take another crap and clean up with a shower, which followed lunch where I ate brown sprouted wheat tortillas. All that brown color activity. Most regular readers will know that the perp are totally obsessed with exposing me to brown colored objects, especially if it has anything to do with excrement, mine or someone else's. And too, that the perps dug up some 300' of road to put in two 30" sewer lines that would tie into this building. It was a very ambitious rebuild of the street, and that it would seem they aren't going to let me off the hook without solving their brown and shit problem. Not my problem, so why do I have this gang of supreme assholes in my life timing my crap to their brown color exposure initiatives?

There isn't an answer to that save the ongoing noisestalking, and typo sabotage to make me yell at them. There are still some missing things in the lockup, like a KVM cable I had, as well as a split RCA L/R cable from a single push-in cable. The latter went missing at least four years ago in a move, and I haven't been able to get one since. And moving is the perps favorite time to apply recall deletions; I am astonished that I did not recall there was no stored clothing downstairs in the storage lockup, but when some unbidden party can delete one's recall all to set up a futile search, why they will do it. Which suggests that they had this planned out over a year ago. It was a little over a year ago when I went through all my boxes and carted many off to the local charity that "happens" to be less than a half block away. So it would seem that this toss-out session was planned before then, along with any recall deletion games that they have long pulled on me at this time. I suspect that my native, uncontrolled ability to recollect was just too good for the assholes, as they have been doing this at every move I have made; all manner of objects go missing, and a few ones even show up again. The car stereo amplifier and speakers that went missing in 2006 from my parents place "arrived" in the boxes that were packed in 2003, as determined last year, 2007. And of course, they can somehow access these boxes remotely and dematerialize objects.

The perps have had me cranked up for the last hour, all as a precursor to me "discovering" Google Analytics while I was intending to delete this because it became an excuse for endless dialog popup boxes. That is how it goes, eliminate the excuses, or cover stories or whatever guise the harassment is in, even if you know it to be totally faked. There are so many things I do differently now just to eliminate the extra noise that gets added in, and yet they crank up the noise all the same, all to get me riled up. Just like the last 40 minutes; constant ranting at the assholes over these dumbshit dialog boxes that keep popping up the instant I intend to click on a link, now obscured by the dialog box.

I did the gym trip again today; it was another dreary freakshow, and I bailed early as the perps had me cranked up over their forced spasms and imbalancing, and before that, the bullshit humming by the fuckwit next to me on the treadmill. I bailed, and then another two dudes arrived after I left, one working on the machine I spent a whole minute on. So that made three dudes in a cluster of side-by-side treadmills, and the remaining five treadmills were availible. I have never seen three dudes cluster up like this before unless they know each other, which wasn't the case. There were also the usual "do-squats" sitting around doing nothing but leaning forward from their seated position, the long observed "lean forward" stalking. They even put a negro on duty, but pulled him after 10 minutes. They tried to keep him in the light, and therefore not as well defined, but once I saw that disgusting skinhead of his, that was it. The perps routinely pull planted negros in my proximity, usually within 5 to 10 minutes. I also had a negro accompany me in the elevator when outbound to the gym. He was dressed in black, with shades on even, and carried a flat black nylon condura briefcase. There are plenty of black gangstalking vehicles outside the apartment now, all since I brought the glossy black Antec PC case back last week. It is very possible that the perps had the case painted with automotive paint, just to "harmonize" the color energetics games that they indulge me in. They need to calibrate me on various colors and lighting, between this apartment and outside, so what better than having a glossy black steel case so it would be comparable to a glossy black monster vehicle parked outside the apartment doors when I get out.

There were two class freaks in gym; Ethnic Gut was featuring himself at a distance though, over 20' and being relatively discreet. And Fatboy was sucking on a cigarette outside the gym; talk about setting the tone for a workout. No wonder he doesn't get to a state of running on the treadmill. Another freak was the Grotesque Granny, who made sure to be seen close in at least two locations; I was hoping that I had seen the last of this one, but no, she is back again. Another freak was the goatee bearded fat man, perhaps Fat Goatee will be his assigned name should he surface at another gym class.

The infernal Oak Bay Fire Department put on their deep red colored firetruck outside the OB Rec. Center (the gym) again. This has to be at least the sixth time they have come by for outside gangstalking with their vehicles, and only once did they stage an emergency. And it wasn't too much of a surprise that three of the fire department goofs showed up in the gym, "happening" to be leading ahead of me when I was headed to the treadmills. They were all their navy blue uniforms, and walked in file, not exactly an inspection by my determination.

I am in the beam again; an impossible illumination from a "reflection" that does not have a direct line of sight, and "somehow" reaches some 8' into this apartment, lighting up the floor where I am seated. (As pictured in recent past blogs). And this was arranged in the same circumstances as last night; after (brown colored) dinner, doing Quicken updates (today's deposits), rasping and filing noise from above, and generalized other noise from outside.

I finally was able to access my Google Blogger site statistics, and it wasn't too preposessing; 29 page reads in the past three weeks, all occuring in two days, back to back. I suspect the statistics might be arranged, so I am not too concerned that they represent reality. This is a specialized group, us TI's, selected to be cast into hell on earth, all because of their agenda of not declaring themselves to be doing nonconsensual human experimentation. I don't get it, but it has been this way for over 54 years now.

The perps have me cranked up to attempt some farm labor work this week. They are still beating me over this one, and ensuring all other job options just "don't happen somehow" and Craigslist is drying up.

And some detail on the trivial pursuits of the perps; as another one erupted today. I consider the above jerkaround of depleting my recall as to what was in the basement locker to be one such, and this is another. After leaving gym early, I needed to kill some time before my haircut, so I went to the nearby pharmacy that has plenty of food items, and bought some nuts and juice, something I might need soon. I paid cash, and ended up with some coins in my pocket, as I had none in my pocket at the time, taking only enough for the lockers at the gym. While later walking back to my place, I heard coins rattling and "wondered" what it was, as the perps had deleted my recall that I had put some coins in my pocket. They planted the notion that it was a made up noise. When I got back to my place and changed out of my gym pants, there was the pocket change to my "surprise". In other words, the mere knowledge of having pocket change was deleted my my recall and I was screwed into thinking that I didn't have any when I did. And of course, all my faculties of curiousity were also dithered and blocked. It is almost unbelievable that a billion dollar per year budgeted criminal harassment organization stoops so low as to fuck someone out of knowing if they are carrying pocket change or not. It is utterly bizarre as it is stunning and depraved as well as infuriating.

Another part of the TI experience is getting ripped off. I always purchase Pilot V5 pens with blue ink by the box of 12 at Monk's Office Supply. Today, I got nailed for the per pen price that came to $29. And lo, if I don't find that the competitor's box of 12 is $20. More of the jerking around, enough to take it back which might be what this gambit is all about. And also, I got fucked out of querying the bill at the time; totally fucked with to accomodate the script.

The perps are working me over tonight; they pulled a total PC lockup. Even the three finger salute was dysfunctional (cntrl, alt, del) so a one-fingered salute was in order, the off button. They kept the music playing while the rest of the browser was locked. Freaking bizarre.

Another jerkaround is the perp spoofing the music player and then having two artists playing at the same time. This jerkaround has been going on for the last year, but they have stepped it up over the past 10 months with more permitted music listening.

A new muse has come upon me after some troving through the Calgary Folk Festival performer listings; Basia Bulat. Take a listen here, I find her captivating, on par with Jill Barber with whom I am transfixed over as regular readers will know.

Time to call this one done for the day, and ponder what my night might be like tonight. I had the typical harassment Monday night last night; overhead poundings, 1.5 hours of sleeplessness, and a few other stunts to keep me pissed off.

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