Saturday, November 29, 2008

Everything Stops for Tea

I love that John Baldry album, Everything Stops for Tea, as it deflates some of that pomposity I so loathe. But in fact, the sirens started when I was pouring the boiled water from the kettle into the teapot where the green tea leaves sit for steeping. Making tea, including the steeping time while the color changes, is a big harassment situation, and they made sure I was reminded about it today. There were sirens for when I was pouring the water, and then about four minutes later while sitting 8' away journally and after further color change, visible through my glass Bodum teapot. The assholes have gone extra rabid over other color changes too; flushing the toilet, so the water color passes from yellow tinged to colorless, their shit games, and then the recent "brown rust" color games that emanated from the three faucets after the water supply shutdown they neglected to inform me about in advance earlier this week.

And when I got up to pour my tea into a mug, why, there were the flashing ambulance and firetruck lights right outside my place, some six stories below, in place for me while drinking tea and eating chocolate. The perps' surrogates stopped by for tea it would seem. Regular readers will know how the perps are totally beserk over brown colors, and my contact with anything that is this color, especially when in my mouth and less than an inch from my brain. The harassment has a very strong neural investigation component (slightly understated, har, har), and it isn't too much of a surprise that one's mouth is a perp's battleground to wage their covert neural research agenda, though in my case, they have gone overt since 04-2002. Hence the near universality of the gangstalkers with their tongues hanging out, mouths agape, eating food (often bread, to add in "bread stalking"), spitting, and even puking a few times. (Yes, puking on the street is nothing new, and even spitting has now become the imposed "normal").

Here is part of the "action" outside my apartment less than an hour ago, and I see that the picture import feature of Blogger has suddenly "failed", and I cannot import any other photos after I was jerked around by the selected ones not all importing into Blogger. The rule of TI existence is, you are never allowed do anything once, but at least twice: once for us (the SS), and then for you. This is a zoom in of the idiot show, a police vehicle was also added into the mix, hence the red flash illuminations.

Other side action while the "emergency show" was in progress was to keep up the red colored vehicle testing, presumably as a benchmark to the introduction of the above flashing red lights. The perps put on colored vehicle shows all the time, often with some colored "book ends" and then a transiting same colored vehicle between them. The cardinality and directionality are also important as the distance dependent parameters that they seem to be testing/harassing me for.

Well, it seems that this one hour per day job isn't going to last that long. I see the strains of planted dissonance have been sustained, now only the third day on the job. The boss claims that it can be done in an hour, when it took me 1.75 hours yesterday, and 1.65 hours today. How can 45 minutes be shaved off a 1 hour 45 minute job and still be able to do it all. I was hauling ass tonight, and no backtracking as I learn about all the locations and the routine, even breaking into an sweati, (likely perp imposed) . I don't know what the "secret" is to speeding up the job so substantially, but it doesn't strike me as doing anything incremental. Either I am getting placed into some time warp, or my watch is getting fucked with (not tonight after checking it out), or there is another agenda focussed on job duration. It might be the preplanned dissonance that will ultimately develop into parting ways. The perps have the end of a gig planned before it begins, and they like specific issues to fester, especially if related to their objectives, one being the topic related to time. And to cap it off after his earlier snits over leaving the mop in the cleaning bucket, when he hadn't informed me about this before, he then gives me a printed list of all what is to be done. And lo, if there isn't more places and items to clean that he did not show me. Not much prospect for shaving this job duration down, and I suspect it will become a bigger issue rather than a smaller one as he was suggesting once I get "experienced".

And to add to the gangstalking action, it was inventory day, so there were about five fuckwits coursing about, though none slowed me up significantly. But they did have that perp ability to arrive at a location immediately preceding me needing to access the same location in the course of my cleaning duties. One of the loitering shiftless ones was smoking a cigarette in the service area, "happening" twice before I passed through there. Then they all came out to wash their hands in the service area sink while I had to wait for them until I could use it for filling up the floor mopping bucket. The boss didn't tell me what to put in the bucket besides water, so I used some of the disinfectant spray I had been using everywhere else. Funny how he didn't ask, and yet expected me to know all the same.

I reckon this cleaning gig might last a month before some event or pre-scripted issue comes to a head. Which suggests that they still don't want me to work in one jobsite for very long, as they nixed my volunteering at a local office last year after about five visits or so. The summer's daffodil picking meant that I was moving along the rows in the field, along with others, so the relocation aspect was met in that way.

The perps pulled a classic stunt tonight; I was cleaning the glass doors with a piece of paper towel, and put it down as it got soggy. As my hand was moving toward the glass door, the fuckers put that same piece of paper towel back in my hand. Of course I was pissed off, as even placing an object down isn't allowed. It was a new and blatant harassment that was quite over the top and without the usual pretense of creating a situation where I wasn't looking, or it "caught up" on something. Another bastion of conventional normality has been breached by the Sureptiticious Sickos, the SS.

The perps also got me rage-ified tonight in advance of going to my job; it was a making tortillas from scratch, the same way that I have been doing it for over six years, and they flicked food and water around, pulled objects from my grasp, created plenty of extra noise of no ostensible cause, and a number of other imposed vexations and made sure that I got plenty pissed about it. A "warm up" event it seemed, all to create more auric energies for them to be able to detect from their remote locations. I read about someone who could see auras, and that there was a very long trail of this energy if the person was stressed. Regular readers will know that pissing me off is the perps' play of first resort, as this enhances the interaction with other energetic sources, particularly gangstalkers, and especially if I have had an association with the person in the past. Hence, the perp's need to have morphovers, the gangstalkers who know me but are disguised as someone else.

I was out earlier at the LD store this morning to get a newspaper and some drug store items, and they had their Fuckwits arranged for me to either pass by while they were "standing around" (and looking totally stupid), or else positioned exactly where I needed to go. They had the soap section packed with at least five gangstalkers so I didn't bother to get any, and then the chocolate section had a sub 5' tall woman parked exactly where I needed to access, and had her head about 6" away from the display I needed to get to. In other words, placement of the head is very important to the perps, and they wanted this Fuckwit to be exactly where I was to reach to maximize the brown color exposure time. I have never seen their gangstalkers to be so obvious in a store before, but there is always a first time. Said woman gangstalker "joined me" at the checkout, arriving two customers behind me.

It was plain that the above LD store gangstalking was from more Unfavored demographic groups; geriatrics, male gut strutters and male waddlers. I find it funny that they will specialize in a few Unfavored demographic groups rather than mix them up as they usually do. This shopping area has outside benches and it was surprising to see the number of Fuckwits sitting on wet and cold steel, pretending to be casually lounging around. Ditto for the supermarket which I had to visit as the LD store did not have the newspaper in. While there, more male loungers outside at the tables, and the instant I cast a derisive glance, they suddenly spin their head to look away. Fucking bizarre.

More knee torquing torture tonight while reading my regular blogs; the perps also had me with my earmuffs on and made a pounding noise that got through, often in concert with having my leg twisted below my knee. They like to do this because the pain sensations are recieved directly in the brainstem area where they seem to be fixated if the maser strikes though the neck are a usefull clue. At the same time, they wouldn't let me read for full comprehension, and instead, had me flit about, reading portions here and there, and never being allowed to attain reading continuity. Nothing new there, just that there was the siultaneous knee torquing and thumping through the earmuffs.

I am going to call this one done for the day as it is clear that my onine time is being constrained tonight, and the typo sabotage has just increased to rage-ification levels.

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