Saturday, December 20, 2008

Lattes on Snow

Yes, it is the Coffee Corps again, chasing me around town with brown colored substances, and today, with the benefit of lingering snow on the sidewalks, they have tossed lattes onto the snow along my path when doing my one and only Christmas shopping. That is, they have placed puke brown splotches on my route, and ensured they were all added today, as there were none around on the same route after the abortive shopping trip yesterday. And too, there were some lattes spilled on bare pavement cleaned of snow, all to provide some kind of color reference between on snow and on bare sidewalk puke brown splotches. Need I remind regular readers that my tormentors are fixated on introducing me to the color of brown, in all its hues and tones, but only in small amounts. A full on brown vehicle is a rare sight, and even the light metallic brown vehicles come with a posse of greyscale toned vehicles around them. They did put on a dark brown down coated Fuckwit ahead of me at one store today, but that was only an transient situation before he disappeared into the crowd there. So, onto Lululemmon for a gift certificate where they were comparatively few gangstalkers. This is the store they fucked me out of knowing where it was yesterday, and I was within 20m of it.

Then on the way back, another Coffee Corps dude was on me, bearing his green cardboard tray with a coffee and then tailing me for a block, taking a short cut through a parking lot, and ending up on my tail again after I had turned 90 degrees. This is twice in two days this same fuckery has "happened"; a tail, thought to be long gone, reprises again for more unabashed following. I don't think the CIA would do something so obvious, and I am no international spy if that helps clear up any confusion.

And twice in two days, when W. bound on Yates St., and only a block apart, I get an vehicular rundown attempt; some Fuckwit blows by a red light and turns a right corner crossing my path ahead of me, timed for extra closeness because that is the current perp mandate. And also of note, in both instances I was the only person at the intersection who was about to be rundown. That takes real planning as there is usually a surfeit of gangstalkers around me at every street corner. I have seen assigned drivers blowing yellow and even red lights, and that now applies to city buses too. This seems part of the games to limit the vacancy time in a given public location; having a perp sponsored vehicle arranged to keep running red lights, intersection after intersection. Yet more public beserkness that erupted in this town, post 2002 when this life rape began.

And I am due to do my cleaning job earlier tonight at the Pacific Mazda dealership, before I eat dinner. I expect plenty of extra-conventional gravitic fuckery tonight to keep me riled up while working alone. Back to the vocalization "need" after being provoked by dirt, sand or other debris magically arriving after I have cleaned up an area. It is getting fucking tiresome to say the least. And those long used brown Douglas fir (conifer) needles that erupted all over my apartment in my hiking days are making a "comeback" as portable brown color references for the just-cleaned surfaces,- floors, counters, tables etc. Regular readers and TI's will know that the perps bring on their greatest harassment of me just before eating a meal. The digestion process and its attendant color changes are still bedeviling the perps for them to remotely detect these, and hence, forced delay of mealtime to continue the fuckery for longer. And I suppose the dusk onset will be occuring then, another perp silly season of each day.

The perps are still all over me with extra noise, forced farts, extra-gravitic fuckery, plasma and maser beams during color changes in my proximity. Examples of these color changes would be making the bed, putting clothes on or off, steeping of tea, making coffee (peculiar differentials in brown tones), flushing the toilet with its contents, and others which don't come to mind at the moment.

I thought something exceptional was going to happen tonight with the "no dinner" work session, and lo, I was not dissapointed. The mopping bucket "went missing" and I went all over the building for 15 minutes looking to no avail. This is the lastmost, but important activity of our janitorial work. It culminates all our efforts and means that we usually don't walk there anymore for fear of tracking more filth on the floors. I made preparations to clean a sink of grease to we could put our mops in it, but later, as it "so happened", the downstairs business returned it. It was a surprise to say the least, and a fucking waste of time. The parts dude was even still there, and he "helped" to look for a time in his black leather jacket and his unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. Another character from a bad movie it would seem.

It was an early start to work as the business closed early for their Christmas party; I arrrived at 1600h, and they seemed pleased about that, apart from the odd look from the blonde as if to say, "poor man". Which really means that I am to interpret this, and it seems that blondes have been exercising more strange looks of late. This being part of the perp's "blonde stalking"; have them put on more stern, if not hostile looks, even if there is no interaction whatsover, just passing by. I noticed this two weeks ago on the Sunday Global TV news hour; XYZ (the station's web site is now without pictures) looked very stern/pissed off when giving the news for the entire show, and the next week she was putting on the smiles and charm.

And why is it happening so often that when someone is going to divulge a big story they end up expiring beforehand? Karen Silkwood was the first known instance of this "fluke" association, and now Carl Rove's email burying computer systems administrator was having a crisis of confidence and he ends up deceased through an supposed aircraft accident. There is just too many of these events going on to be anything but arranged IMHO. This story from At Largely tells of Mike Connell and Larisa Alexandrovna is careful not to call this a conspiracy like any responsible journalist. Call me irresponsible if you like, but after finding out that nothing in my life was unarranged (it seems, especially since 2002), then one comes to the realization that one can be manipulated and commandeered much like a mechanical object without so much as a clue that it was happening, just as I write this. If the perps can have me drive down a one-way street in the wrong direction in one example, then at another time, have me resume driving through a red light after stopping at it, (other road traffic cleared in both instances), and even have me start to cross a street on foot when there is an oncoming vehicle, (they had me stop and turn back), then anyone can be mindfucked into any actions whatsover, as even the concept of one's own personal safety can also be remotely manipulated.

Call me a conspiracist if that helps, but I didn't become one until immersed in this outrageous mind and life raping exercise and was led to a number of coincidences as to the arrangement of my circumstances with other events in the news. I think there is far more manipulation of events going on that we realize. My high school physics teacher responded to a question once, saying "if you control gravity, you control the entire world". Well, guess what; I see and experience extra-conventional gravitic manipulations every day, and it is dynamically applied, often in response to what I am doing at the time. And should I go off script and be in a position to say, get through a door faster than they planned, I will find myself dithered as to which key is what and expend cognitive effort in a never before way, attempting to figure out what key goes where when this was basic knowledge. The last time something like that happened was in 2005.

And I see that my featureless icon bar in Blogger has become more disfunctional, as the provision for inclusion of pictures has been messed with. Yesterday's photos might be the last ones for a while as Blogger has been slowly degraded on me.

More manipulations; throat clearing for no reason and then coincident street shouting starts up. Then a forced fart with the armrests of my chair clicking away, one on each side, and no matter if I wasn't leaning on them at the time. These "self clicking" armrests have started doing this since 2004 and my complaints about the lack of authenticity have falled on deaf ears.

I am being rendered restless and without activity to do; it seems that the perps like to have me be idle, and yet be restless at the same time. I have never figured out their need to enforce no work periods; many a summer job had a spell where there was absolutely nothing to do, often covered up as weather downtime (couldn't fly the only vehicle, the helicopter) or as crewing problems. It is totally bizarre, and I won't suggest for a minute that today's deteriorating economy is planned by the perps, but they are certainly able to readily capitalize on events that might not have their fingerprints on them.

I got lost in a digital photography site, getting my knowledge of these updated, though I don't expect to be purchasing one, ever. My one Panasonic camera that "survived" the street assault must be my assigned camera for the perps. I have no complaints, and the hobby might interest me if I get all my archive pictures scanned one day. The same deal though; nothing much is affordable at current disability allowance, no matter how one cuts it. And the perps just love to run their victims into debt, and I just might pull out of it in a year if current trends continue of having a 1 hr. x 6 day per week job.

Enough of this rambling, and time to sign off.

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