Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Doing Shut-in Time

Truth be told, I was allowed out to deposit my Christmas check and earnings. I had my usual posse around me for the one block gauntlet to the ATM, but they were decidedly light on gangstalkers overall. It was 0930h, before the stores open at 1000h, but there were plenty of shiftless males loitering around, and one fucker in a brown down coat was doing the loiter at the Fort and Douglas intersection (SE corner) when headed to the ATM, and then "showed up" again at the SW corner upon my exit from the bank where the ATMs are. Fucking beserk. I also had the two tone blue Fuckwit standing outside the bank, her back to the ATMs that were inside and at that very corner.

The rest of the day has been shut-in, but with plenty of noisestalking as I get back into my routines at my place after being away for a week.

And many forced pees today; at least six before lunch, timed to opening a web page of a regular site, when selecting a new category of web sites and all the minutiae that makes the perps so happy to hound the living shit out of me, literally at times.

It is always interesting to reflect at these high perp interest moments (first day back in a week) as to what else is going on which spells perp interest. They bulked me up by at least 8 pounds, and the extra flab was duly spread over my abdominal and pubic region, all in readiness for me to see and shave over it, as the full frontal shaving was left unattended for the week stay at the First Feral Family home. They had me go out to the ATM (per above) after that. A new black plastic blade insert for shaving in the shower this morning, and a navy blue disposable for the nether regions last night. No doubt of extreme interest which will be duly signified by a greater number of black and blue colored gangstalker vehicles, not to mention clothed ambulatory gangstalkers.

Another "habit" that erupts is to launder the bed clothes the day of departure, and this was duly accomplished Dec. 23 before leaving for the First Feral Family home for a week over Christmas, returning yesterday. Another new event was to have me use a surface cleaner in the bathroom Dec. 23 for the first time, now begining a new product use. I had been cleaning the bathroom counter every morning with a wetted sponge after my morning routine, and this has now changed with the addition of a mild surface cleaner. (The perps had been telling me for two years that this was going to happen, and it somehow did, even if no compelling reason as the wetted sponge seemed to work fine all this time. A third significant event for the assholes was to have me change the hand soap in the bathroom; this soap and container have been going strong since 2005 and it finally ran out just yesterday. Though, I might haul it out of the garbage as the new liquid soap is getting wobbled every time I use, one of those annoying things the perps like to do to me.

A direct perspective on how the Copenhagen climate talks failed here at the Guardian. China didn't give a shit is what it amounted to,- the polluter-to-beat-all-polluters (in the next 20 years). Finally, we get some pithy answers over that unfortuneate fiasco, and one more slip down the slope of environmental belligerence from China, the country that personifies the term in so many ways.

A two hour nap earlier, and I suppose the big deal for the perps was that I ended up making tea afterward, and then put two just-dry shirts hanging in the bathroom on the bed where I had napped in order to fold them and put the shirts away. One was a mid grey color, and the other was a black micro-fleece shirt. Black fleece is the go-to fabric of the modern MIB in this hikey-bikey town, and all the better if it has black ripstop nylon patches on it for their fabric variation purposes.

Another revelation from my interweb browsings today (as I listen to Francoise Hardy); Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFIDS) was discovered to be caused by a retrovirus and was first published in 1991 by Dr. Elaine Defreitas and she got her funding cut and career derailed. The Center for Disease Control (CDC) kept insisting it was a psycho-neuro problem. It is fucking nuts that a professional body hid behind their white coats and screwed so many patients with this disabling condition for so long. But don't ask me if this is related to the broader perp covert research/abuse/traumatization objective/imperative because the answer is plain to me. As to what their specific objectives are I don't know, but considering the swath of trashed lives, and even deaths from this condition, it is yet another despicable psychopathic orchestration. Other conditions like Lyme Disease are similarly fraught with clinical politics, and the HIV/AIDS history has a murky genesis.

Enough blathering tonight.

Post Christmas Constipation Blues


Back at my apartment building after a six day stayover at the First Feral Family home. Not that it was planned by me to be that long, as I intended for it to be some three days or so. But as the weather was so gloriously sunny, there was time to get onto cash paying grounds maintenance activities. Building the compost, a 4' high by 4' square stack of leaves, shredded leaves, household compostables and other plant material. It was layered with soil and an accelerant to get it composting, likely some months from now as it is too cold for much of this biologic activity that the perps are so vitally interested in. I had my usual suburbia noise accompaniments; overhead aircraft buzzing around, senseless diesel engine idling from two neighbors, whine from a nearby leaf blower, dog barking, children screaming and the hotrod muffler noise that has been so popular this year. They even put on a Saanich municipality fire truck emergency (just the one truck oddly) on Boxing Day, Dec. 26 no less, sirens and lights, and then returning about an hour later. In the long running parade of ladder bearing gangstalker vehicles, that is of course the largest one, and no doubt it serves extra duty to have the sirens and lights going simultaneously.

Regular readers will know that the 2009 compost building at the First Feral Family home was a success, and that weekly watering of the pile under the plastic tarp was essential. Not that I know much about composting, but I know more now, and it surely cannot be a coincidence that Ms. C of the story, the prior girlfriend (albeit aggravating at times), secured her Composting Master's training at the Everett community college during the pre-04-2002 overt harassment days. Funny how she has been getting "mind share" this past week, planted of course. And my mother asked about her too. But no Christmas card this year, and probably a whole three emails from her all year (and I respond), and why would I care about such an obvious shill/operative when I haven't seen her since 2003? My mother said she has "moved on" when I said we exchange the odd emails, offering a rare opinion that may be one of those masked statements of portent. Or could it be total bullshit? One never knows, and there are some very persistent perp mind planted notions as to who she really might be, and linkages to other cast members of the pre-04-2002 overt harassment onset days. None that I want to get into for now.
I suppose the above mentioned large composting pile served as a kind of reference (outdoors to indoors) for the perps, though I am rather curious that it might be related to the same reasons they are so beserk over my food digestion. The active flora would be very different between the two decomposition types, not to mention the colors and interaction rate, but there might be some underlying commonality that escapes me (or that I am not allowed to know at the present).

I started this blog last night at the First Feral Family home, on a PC that was made up of my old PC's (11-2009) motherboard and power supply. The hard drive, graphics board and case were new in the re-build then. And for whatever reason, Blogspot/Blogger wasn't stripped out like this version at my place as I write this, as well as the font set being different. I have one button for adding links, always a perp noisestalked event, and that is all the editing capability that I have save the native Windows Cut and Paste. Back to basics it would seem. And that is why I cannot see Followers, Other Blogs I Read and whatever other features that Blogspot/Blogger has, is because they don't display on this so-called dashboard, and there seems to be no conventional reason why. All my icons were stripped out in early 2009, and I went from memory (per planted ones I suspect), to effect the Blogspot features. I cannot even see how to add pictures in any more.

While there I did some Boxing Day Sale shopping online, and that set the stage for toilet blocking games immediately following making an online financial transaction. (And have I mentioned how often I get harassed, gangstalked and noisestalked while making a financial transaction?). A new downstairs low flow toilet had been installed in the partially renovated bathroom, and lo, if it didn't back up immediately, and spawn itself into a four day job to then be only cleared by the addition of bleach. The toilet was unplungeable due to its irregular throat, and that made it extra difficult to deal with matters. Then the plumber's snake couldn't get through the convoluted waste pathway.

Over some five days, and it even foamed up for two days after putting bleach in it. Then the one upstairs "self cleaned" with bleach too, as if in sympathy. And no end of mentioning the blocked toilet by my mother (putting on the ditz act), in "response" to everyone asking how the bathroom renovation was going, har, har. (Over the phone and in person).  Then visitations from Feral Family and friends were arranged while said toilet was in a state of mess as it couldn't be plunged due to new low flush design. (it was through the wall from the living room and down a half storey).

One of my mother's friends and her partner (my mother's term) came over, all to roil me with the red and yellow perp color theme; one dressed with each color, plus  ongoing sunlight/plasma and shade games to redden her face (wearing the red shirt) at times while talking to her, as if the shirt wasn't enough. This was during the pre-dusk time of 1500 to 1600h, a very common time where the perps put on their red color games. The visitors brought some items for gifts for my mother, in a freaking translucent red plastic bag that sat on the table outside the living room where we chatted for some two hours. And have I said how much I loathe the sight of translucent red plastics or rubber; and how often this particular color, material and light transmissive quality comes to bear as a prop in the gangtalking? The all time take-away on this one was the at the last residential apartment building I lived in from 05-2005 to 08-2006, 140 units, and they left a translucent red condom on the T-intersection of the walkway 6' outside the apartment block front doors for over a week, when the building grounds were groomed and cleaned at least three times per week. And for the last five days, the perps have been playing the image of the Goat's Head Soup album (Jagger with his head in a tight translucent yellowish plastic or rubber sheet) in mind for whatever reason. (I don't follow the Rolling Stones or their work much and there is no reason for such imagery to come to mind except by remotely invasive technology and with some theme in mind for which I have no conscious recollection).

Other major perp  themes were eating way too many cakes and cookies, and they do like me to indulge in high gluten foods at times, and this was it for the year, a whole week of it, and I still have some to finish up at my place. Hopefully I can get back to healthy chocolate tomorrow and keep my 20lb weight loss permanent, one of 2009's rare side benefits.

Other slings and arrows of the past week were on Christmas Day when helping my mother cook the turkey, supplying the muscle to heft it and flip it as needed. Then carving, something the perps always love me to do, even here with the cooked chicken I purchase. I cleaned my mother's kitchen counter three times that day, as the place is always a fucking mess with crumbs and spatter on things. Even the Purell and the dish soap containers needed to be cleaned for crissakes. The perps had me in an obsessive overdrive about mess, crumbs and lint all day. And if that wasn't bad enough, my mother in her ditz act must of crossed my path or stood in my way of where I intended to place myself some 80 times; Christmas from hell, being gangstalked and obstructed at every move all fucking day. And if I temporarily vacated a place at the kitchen counter while in the service of aiding dinner (for six all told), then she was standing in the very place I had vacated only seconds following me. Not only in the kitchen, but in the living room when I needed to get up and exit for any reason. Fucking tiresome it was, and I only got some reprieve the next day, and that bullshit act slowly diminished to near "normal gangstalking" levels at the First Feral Family home.

I normally keep good track of my few regular food items, and lo, if I didn't "discover" tonight (the sirens are going as I type this up, heard through my earmuffs), that the milk was way past its date, and the perp routinely exploit this, often souring the milk days in advance. So..., a force play to have me go to the local supermarket at 2130h, a 10 minute round trip from my apartment. And lo, if the Unfavored freakshow wasn't there in muted form; the ponytailed dude who "needed" to hop off the curb at the same moment as me jaywalking to get this fucker out of my sight, and then he quickened his pace to a short run so I could see his ridiculous ponytail in profile in the dim light, and bums outside the supermarket, and then two negroes (back to live specimens after a week of the TV version, especially the mug of that attempted Nigerian bomber on the Christmas Day flight), one female giving me the stare lining me up as she arrived from behind an aisle corner, and then a male who was loitering at the one location I needed to go to, the freaking goat milk section, and then finally I went for the checkout through the gauntlet of gangstalkers in the produce section. I paid cash this time, two blue five dollar bills, and that too is exciting stuff for the Fuckwits and their ongoing consumption with the color of my wallet contents.

Anyhow, I am going to wrap this one up; a few adds to the Consolidated TI World Link List, as I have been going through accumulated bookmarks tonight. I save them in a general folder to come back to, and tonight when I bookmarked worthy sites for inclusion into my more specific folders, why, the link just disappeared all by itself from the general folder. It is not the first time this has happened, but having someone doing my deleting in advance of me doing it is decidedly petty and pathetic.

And they have been extra active tonight in running plasma beams over top of my hands as I typed this blog tonight; an irregular varying width red beam from a millimeter to six millimeters sits over top of my hands by an inch for at least four seconds, time enough to be plenty sure. Then other colors, most frequently navy blue plasma beams over my hands.

This is a relatively high disruption occasion for the perps, me returning from a week away at the First Feral Family home to the same routines. They cannot get enough of me at those moments, returning from an absence to do the same boring stuff I always do. Go figure.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Financial Transaction Christmas Confluence

A major Fuckover confluence over ordering online; at least 8 obstructions over paying online with two different web browsers and when attempting to make a telephone order, the web page blew up (same site). Finally I get a phone message, strangely timed to when I was attending to laundry for three minutes in the laundry room, along with two Fuckwits placed in the hallway, and plenty of prior rage-ifications, including a rare prior semi-public one in the laundry room itself (no one around). Then in concert with the interspersing of laundry and online ordering activities, why the online order guy isn't reachable when he phoned only minutes beforehand. Another round of laundry attendance, and another Fuckwit in the hall, and when I am launching the web browser, why the phone rings and it is the online order guy. Fair enough; and as soon as I reach for my wallet and for the entire remaining part of the telephone transaction, the siren noises start up while supplying my credit card details, and lo, if it wasn't verified as OK. Two days of fucking grief over online ordering and at least a prior three days of selecting the items from two other web sites to be then hit with insane shipping charges (refusing to order), and finally being allowed to find a vendor that wasn't gouging me on shipping. And with the online shopping cart staying persistent (this time, unlike the last online vendor), I also had the "opportunity" (read mind fuck game related to the "do it again" abuse that is the daily fare), to re-work my order contents three times. It is plain fucking beserk all these jerkarounds over financial transactions. (See yesterday's blog for a recent summary as of then).

Not forgetting yesterday's fuckery related to this same theme; a missing discount card in my wallet forced a later re-visit to reverse the transaction for my work clothing (discount card expires at year end), when the said card "arrived" back in my wallet once I got home after the intial purchase. Then the debit card swipe repeats with the scummy dude show slithering in at the checkout yesterday, and at least 80% of the past supermarket debit card purchases at the checkout have been fucked with for the last three weeks. Can we say, "tis the season for high abuse"? Especially when most of the Western world is in a shopping frenzy as well, this is all too convergent. Besides, I vowed to not spend anything owing to the employment fuckery, and lo, if it didn't just "happen" far more than I intended.

Then some more abusive rage-ifcations over forced typos, and I was good to go again for another round of abuse to enter my transactions details in Quicken. A wretched bill had been sitting around for 10 days, and I "forgot" for that long. Never happened before this insane bullshit erupted.

Plenty of plasma and masers as well, the noisestalking has been amplified some, especially the "noise"; aka planted noise, from shaving. I am due to meet up the the First Feral Family matriarch later this afternoon, so I suppose this relentless rage/abuse show is the sicko's form of preparation. No doubt there will be a huge gangstalker squeeze when I do the driving for her to the sundry locations that she has in mind; getting the Christmas turkey, and the new countertop for the ongoing bathroom renovation. Remote manipulation of my testicles also seems important as well this morning.

I am due to stay at the First Feral Family for the next five days over Christmas. Posting will be intermittent but possible from there as I use the updated PC (with my old motherboard which is suprisingly faster with a new hard drive and graphics card). Have a perp-less and harassment free Christmas time as much as  you can.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

What Went Right

Not much has gone right today on the First Feral Family front. Even my mother, the First Feral Matriarch had a bad day on the home renovation. The tradesman broke two toilets in attempting to install it, and the third one "took" (aka was finally allowed to be installed). The perps have a thing about toilets, and it might pertain to their brown color fetish/research topic, but I sense there is more to it than that. It is an Unfavored item, but I don't know I came by that.

And my in-town brother was also "helping" on the toilet games today, leaving a brown turd to languish in his toilet when I forced into a pee break. It was more than the cat poo smell, regular odor attendant to the downstairs bathroom. I even asked him who did it, and he said it was him. As this is the second or third time this has "happened" among First Feral Family members, it cannot be anything but scripted, along with the smell. Fucking outrageous.

I stopped at a certain store where I get a family discount on the way back from my in-town brother's place, and lo, if the discount card was missing from my wallet. And when I get back, why, it is there again. Ergo, a return trip to deal with getting my discount. Another "gone wrong" jerkaround.

And on my mother's bathroom renovation, the renovator installed an electrical timer switch that I had purchased, and the switch didn't work, new out of the package. This was verified by an electrician even. Another thing goes back to the store. This was after his third toilet install of the day, per above.

Another run-down attempt, sort of; a Fuckwit was driving a low slung sports car, like a Corvette, and ran the advance left arrow, coming within 3' of me when I was 4' into the crosswalk, obeying the Walk signal. I yelled at him, or more like, the perps had me yell as I don't do such public displays, and he did stop in mid street, but that was the end of it and he didn't circle around to confront me thank goodness. Such stunts are about once per week, and this was today's variant.

Most of the day was spent at my in-town brother's place, and for once I got there earlier at 0930h. I get some leaves hopping and bopping in nonconventional gravitic ways,  and some leaves flying in from nowhere, but it is relatively manageable.

I get to raid his ample chocolate supply while there, and so I shouldn't be surprised as to the brown colored gangstalkers afterward when walking to the bus stop and taking the bus back into downtown. There were five loosely clustered but disparate bums on the sidewalk when I got off the bus, and they all ran for it to catch the bus, running past me as I was about to exit and immediately afterward. The joke was that no one was at the bus stop when it pulled in, and I was the only passenger to get off. So... as I was getting off, Bum #1 starts running to make the bus before it departs, and so did the four trailing bums. In other words, it was pure happenchance (har, har) that the bus stopped at all, and here were five passengers sauntering along the sidewalk as they hadn't reached the bus stop. A Bum Run of sorts. The walking-along-and-happen-to-catch-the-bus-as-it-pulls-in-from-behind trick has been playing for a couple of years now, but to have five of them, and all bums, is a new take on presenting such Unfavored Fuckwits.

And my in-town brother makes himself out to be a totally computer avoidant , which seems to be generally true. He asked me to install the new modem that was delivered by the ISP, and I said I would. The old modem is the same model that my mother has, and the new model is the one that I have, same ISP all round. Call it a First Feral Family Modem Calibration perhaps. He was gone when I installed the new modem, and he arrives at the point when I am still at the PC, totally pissed over the perps blocking me from ordering saucepan lids, as I found a more economical supplier that has sane shipping charges. (Funny how Google works differently at his place than mine...(same search string even)). Here I am at his place, having installed the new modem, and the first thing I do there is order saucepan lids, a two week long Fuckover jerkaround that still has yet to be consummated. And then he arrives after I was infuriated at this blatant fuckery, and I explain briefly how and what I did, and because he doesn't recognize the web browser (Firefox), he gets all cranked up saying how important the PC is to him. What a total joke; the guy who would ordinarily avoid the PC, and gets me to install a modem for crissakes, then engages in a thankless diatribe over how I had better not of screwed his PC and his internet access. He is getting, or more like, is scripted to be, excessively cranky these days as well as being rude, though seeming not to notice it. I wonder who else is going to be going silly this Christmas time?

In keeping with the do-it-again financial transaction fuckery, I got blocked again in attempting a credit card payment over these infernal pot lids that has been going on for over a week. Finally, I am allowed to find sane shipping prices for what I want (a Canadian supplier), and now I get obstructed in attempting to pay. And did I mention there were about five attempts to pay with my debit card two days ago, and the cahier had to intervene and restart the process? It is fucking insane that I am not allowed to have a Fuckover Free transaction.

Though, they didn't have the sentries on the bus today in either direction. For at least all of December they have posted a Fuckwit at the front door of the bus, sometimes two for me to walk between, and I suppose swiping my bus pass with its magnetic stripe is a financial transaction of a kind. And of course, when I purchase the bus pass I have at least three of the assholes standing around me at the time.

A rare evening time shopping trip to take the items back for my discount, worth $40. It was the dudes' turn to make the transaction this time, after being handed off by the woman who begged off the task of applying my discount. I have had instances where the blonde babe cashier starts me off with the check and in the process, begs off for a "shift change" and to have a dude take over the task of cashiering. What that means for the supreme sickos, the World SS, I have no idea, but clearly the Favored (blonde babes especially) have some kind of glow that they wish to evaluate (assay of energetic interaction in a more technical sense IMHO), and compare that to the dudes doing the same thing.

Then a turnaround to go to the downtown bookstore and run the hordes of Fuckwits coming at me, often three abreast with another two ahead or immediately behind. This constant testing me of the Cluster Fuckwits has been ramped up for the Christmas season. And I should of turned around at the door of the bookstore as the assholes purged my recall of the title and author, and I was pissed over that, as I wanted to get a novel for my daughter for Christmas in addition to a cookbook. As per usual, I am not allowed to plan, and execute the plan, but be stymied and re-directed. So it was two horse magazines instead and the last ID publication for me (expensive magazine).

The perps had me spooked over these converging clusters of Fuckwits, first starting out with women, then mixed couples and then later two males who were 6' apart and talking to each other at the pedestrian crossing. The usual deal is that I walk around the Fuckwits and not between them when they do these setups of widely separated chats.  Then the Fuckwit I was going around turned to go, almost making out that he was after me, and at that moment the perps spooked me with some kind of Fear that was totally irrational from the perspective of my own normal (pre-overt and mind invasive abuse) reactions. That would never of happened, and when one is hunted day and night for 7.5 years as at present, one knows that they are exceedingly important to the Fuckwits' research agenda and that there really isn't any of the danger they make it out to be. The faked demise Fuckarounds went on during 2002, about ten such events where it was staged that I thought I was done for. This was part of their "blitz abuse", attempting to get specific reactions that mean something to the perps remote energetics assay games.

Then to the local supermarket, again beset with clusters of converging Fuckwits, timed for a constriction in the sidewalk and a shiftless sentry dude blowing his cigarette plume out in advance of me and the clusterfuckers crossing paths. No run-down attempts tonight, they were even slacking off a bit in the bookstore save this giant amazon Asian woman with a knitted wool toque with ear flaps. This seems to be the big deal of late, putting on toques with the ear flaps and ties. And lo, if there wasn't a religious figure, the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew on 60 Minutes two days ago, and he had a hat with the same ear flaps. Other prominent gangstalker fuglies tonight were a local Caucasian dude wearing a blue turban, and immediately running behind him was a woman with dreadlock hair. A nightime low light level gangstalker comparison of the Caucasians with typical non-Caucasian head coverage (turban and dreadlock hair).

And the bookstore; they had the promotions for the Book of Negroes in at least six places and they made sure that I saw it all. Setting me up with the negro theme again, this time in the form of a specific topic that features highly on the harassment front. And lo, if they didn't put on a negro dude for the two block walk from the bookstore to the supermarket. Alas, only and E. Indian as the cashier at the bookstore.

And more fuckery at the supermarket checkout; the debit card didn't scan and had to be redone, with plenty of pleasant fussing by the cashier. Meanwhile, the fugly dude crush started closing in on me after the obese woman in brown passed immediately behind me with her pop bottles for a refund. No doubt said pop bottles were once full of brown fizzy pop.

 The Mozy software backup configuration debacle is still playing out, since Dec. 19 (three days) with them telling me for the second time to go into Regedit and modify a setting, one that is not listed. I told them this two days ago and sent a snapshot of the screen I was looking at, and then they didn't answer the email, but instead started from the begining again. So... if you want to recover your system and this is the kind of fuckaround that is going to go on with one-per-day email that is taking the issue sideways, then you are hooped from the get go. Now I know, but I am passing on my vexations for the greater public good. And will dump their ass as soon as I can.

But as Mozy is using an E. Indian support agency, I have now had three male E. Indians (one per day) sending me emails over this infernal hassle, and it would seem that the perps really want me to see foreign names listed to typical North American english first and surnames. This bullshit started about a year ago when an E. Indian recruiter in Edmonton was emailing me and the emails weren't getting through. I eventually got her phone number, and we sent email tests back and forth to my two different email addresses while on the phone. Then she just dropped from sight, very unlike a recruiter. So..., the entire exercise seemed to be all about an E. Indian woman and me simultaneously talking and sending emails. Go figure, but it fits the pattern of senseless communications, sudden departures for no know reason, and the ongoing presentation of foreign names. I get plenty of strange names in the spam, and this too must be part of the ongoing fuckery.

The typo sabotage is intense tonight, time to go.

A Monday Winter Solstice

A major confluence fuckery day, being a Monday after a stayover at the First Feral Family home (Blackhouse maybe?) and the Winter Solstice. And I did get the gangstalking Fuckover, being trailed around a mall with my mother on her way to a doctor's appointment. I don't do malls any more, and especially not near Christmas time, but as my entire self-defensive knowledge base has been usurped by the assholes, all I do is say "yes" to these ludicrous offers. I even got a stare from one of the Fuckers who has also shown up in at least three other gangstalkings in the last seven years, so he is at least consistent and not in morphover (shape shifted) form.

And have I complained about pallet stalking; the arrangement of pallets around me as if working on them, and around them for four months straight this year wasn't enough. The perps put on a blatant display of their pallet stalking games at the fugly Zellers, a Wal-Mart level competitor here in Canada. At the mall egress area, already slimmed down to 6' wide for both directions by displays, they arranged a pallet jack with a pallet and a small chext freezer with pies in it to be skewed and projecting into the egress, only allowing 2' wide instead of the too-slim 6' wide. Not only that, but the Fuckwit hanging onto the pallet jack handle had his hand to his chin and was facing away from the egress chaos in sentry mode, not even pretending to be engaged in a pallet or pallet cargo related task. Talk about blatant, putting everyone through this gauntlet of a fricking display freezer with brown (baked pastry) pies with red cherry filling. This might be the ultimate public absurdity (so far, don't ever forget they can do something more outrageous) of red colored objects (red cherry filling) behind brown (pastry) colored objects, and having many hundreds of cooperating Fuckwit gangstalkers parading ahead and behind me and my mother (First Feral Mother) through this color gauntlet. Having a cooled freezer and the critical frozen color reference objects inside likely aids their remote energetics assay games as well. I assume it wasn't plugged in as there were no outlets, but the chest freezer had been recently running. And for crissakes, who would undertake freezer moving with the lid open? Only those who have an insane determination to continue the brown, red and other color games and wanting me to not only see the items, but also closely pass by the rest of it, presumably also creating an energetic color reaction through the side of the freezer as well as visually.

And I see they are up to their bus schedule fuckery again; a 10 minute delay of the #27 bus was time enough for me to give up waiting and walk that distance down Shelbourne (for locals) and catch it when it finally did show up. And lo, if my bus stop pals (from my initial wait) weren't in front of the seat I chose to sit in, doing their little bitchy act. When I got off, there were two buses immediately behind it, one more than the usual exception of only one tailing bus. The #27 and #28 buses share much of the same route and during most of the day they are alternated 10 minutes apart. If one is S. bound to downtown and on the latter 2/3 of the route, you can take either one and they take the same places. Only during rush hours do they double up and put on a non-stop express route variant that invariably leapfrogs the regularly scheduled buses. So when tailing S. bound Monday afternoon buses started "erupting" off schedule about 8 months ago I knew it wasn't a new public service, har, har. But today, delaying the scheduled bus and then putting on two tailing buses takes the cake, Christmas cake.

Now that they have polluted the notion of having a reliable bus schedule, they think they can fuck it at will. I still haven't recieved a reply to my complaint to the BC Transit bus service about not running two successive #27 buses three days ago (Saturday), all to keep me at the bus stop for 40 minutes, and have me do what I did today, walk a few blocks and then wait at a later bus stop due to bus stop weirds agglomerating around me (15 of them at residential downtown area). And if you read my blog posting, I wasn't very successful in stopping the weirds because another one showed up at my latter "crazies-free" bus stop.

Yesterday's N. bound bus freakshow wasn't too different; kiddies running up and down the bus while it was in motion would of been immediately cuffed if they didn't comply with my draconian outlook of parenting, and one small blonde boy of three or four came in close to give me a shove, and I gave him a piece of my mind.  Obvioulsly getting me to vocalize is becoming more important, hence the increase of belligerent stunts like have kiddies as proxies for this fucking abusive depravity. Which begs the long time question I have; are these children being run (as in mind controlled stunts), or are they enacting what they rehearsed? It is obvious sometimes, not not always, especially when the First Feral Brother and family come to town, which they might do immediately after Christmas.

And true to form, a shifless male was on sentry duty at each door of the bus, and there were plenty of seats for them to sit down, but they didn't. The rear door sentry dude would circle the pole at the rear door whenever the bus stopped, and he wasn't doing this ruse to let someone off. He was packing his pre-slit package of toilet paper without benefit of a plastic bag to contain it, so I assume he was on "toilet paper patrol". When he finally got off, the front sentry came back and resumed sentry duty at the rear door. Funny how they coordinate their doorway sentries, heavy on the dude show again. As usual, I get whacked from nowhere when I step off the bus, and no one was around or could of possibly engineered an "accidentally on purpose" whack.

Other weird shit on the bus was a woman getting off with grocery shopping bags and holding a container of laundry detergent out in front of her, much like the Coffee Corps do with coffee at all hours of the day. And where did this occur, why, only 20' from a laundromat.

A major series of jerkarounds while making dinner tonight: I haven't had anything so rag-ifying since early this year, 2009. I suppose adding both basil and fresh garlic was interesting for them, as was this being the first use of the chicken as chopped meat for the quesadilla, my mainstay staple for some seven years now. I thought it was called a tortilla as I use tortillas, but the perps finally let me in on my (imposed) Mexican food ignorance, and that it is a quesadilla as it is sandwiched between two tortillas; the chopped chicken meat (always noisestalked event), olive tapenade, and melted cheese. Additon of the two fresh plant foods, the garlic and the basil has been done before, but this was the first time in at least a six weeks. Sometimes they script fallow time after a trial of a re-introduction of food they wish me to continue with. I suspect "wash out" time might be part of this, having the ingredients dissapate to undetectable amounts.

Today's futility is trying to find out how many of my CPU cores are functioning, all starting from some FUD, as one core isn't listed on one of the monitoring sofware panels. That is, it is represented as missing. So... surf to the Intel site, and lo, if there are no monitoring utilities to download for their flagship  X58 chipset CPU's. Then another download to find the core count and still no reference. Then a (planted) recollection that my reciept for my Intel CPU purchase went "missing" when I am a total fanatic about keeping such paperwork. All these planted and leading suggestions as to operational sabotage. And that is the deal; if I am not dealing with real sabotage, I am often dealing with the suggestion (aka FUD) of it as part of the futility/adversity games that are scripted every day.

And lo, if my in-town brother didn't call and touch base on my going to his place tomorrow for paid leaf raking. Fair enough, but as it happened, we got onto the topic of PC health monitoring software, and that is exactly what I am involved in apart from this one break for blog posting. The exquisite web of coincidences continues.

Tonight's panic is over; the third download picked up all my four cores of my Intel Core i7 920 D0 CPU and all is OK. Including this moment by moment reportage.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Today's Adversity Futility is... +12-20-2009 Update

After yesterday's three attempts to order pot lids online without getting gouged by shipping charges, only to get blanked out web pages with the critical buttons missing, the assholes have me infuriated again, this time over acquiring software that they might not like me to have. I want to back this PC up online at a remote location, and I keep getting install errors. I tried this two weeks before with Carbonite, but that wouldn't connect to the internet and I was fucked. Now, using another service for which I have already paid $54, I now have to beat on them to figure out what the fucking problem is. Sounds like yesterday all over again.

It is the month for software upgrades via online transaction; Winzip, backup and the antivirus software will be due in a week. Don't ask why this is important to the tormentors, but I suspect it isn't a conicidence, after being fucked over in July this year (2009) when all the 2008 photos disappeared off my PC and weren't in the Windows Recycle Bin either. One of those file reorganization tasks that suddenly went strange when I looked at the list from a dialog box. Some 500 pictures went missing, and that was before I moved any. And I have long wanted to get a remote backup service, and finally they let me get on with installing the needed backup software now at this "Annual Software Install Convergence" time. And plenty of clunking and noise while I scream at them for yet another stall out on loading software, not to mention the myriad of "typing errors" as I write this.

Still no relief from the software glitch that struck, per above introduction.

Having tea and chocolate didn't help, though sometimes it does when the "problems" somehow fix themselves. I often get remarks from software support personnel like, "I never heard of this problem" and similar expressions of rarity as to the unique issues that erupt in my presence. Before the perps went overt/beserk in 2002 I often figured that I was cursed in some way, as I had no end of PC hassle all the time. Other things would break, phone calls were dropped, extra phone calls for the former phone number owner and so it went.

I went out earlier on a four stop shopping trip, all done just a block away. One skunk, and three transactions, which is good for me. I only got stymied with some heavy head pressure and all-round sense of being fogged and clogged at the local specialty card shop along with a significant gangstalker presence, so I got the fuck out of there in short order, which might have been their plan in any event. Paying with $5 bills (blue color here) twice, and the last time with my green colored debit card. The perps put on a blue dressed gangstalker next to me for the latter $5 (blue colored) cash transaction, as well as giving me a long pointless preamble over getting the marzipan goodies for a stocking stuffer for my daughter. One's wallet contents are of intense perp interest, and this year's wallet crumbling neccessitated a new one, but with a smaller shape that demands that the bills be individually folded before placement. Most of the recent wallets I have had were of the kind where all the bills are put in without folding, and then the wallet includes them when it folds.

As mentioned in past blog postings, the color of everything that touches me and in my immediate proximity is vital to the perps' ongoing noncensensual human experimentation, so there isn't any doubt as to who was behind all the past wallet losses. Once, a just-loaded ($200 at the ATM) wallet was stolen from my jacket at my cubicle after I had been there for the entire afternoon, save a 5 minute run to the bathroom. I never could figure out how anyone from outside could of tailed me, and then hung around unseen for two hours before I took my first and only bathroom visit. Now I know; there is a Fuckover Force dedicated to grinding my life into utter pieces and there were there all along, and they can readily dematerialize objects remotely and even animate beings too. I have a lifetime count of eight lost wallets since adulthood, and that was the most curious of them all. The wallet only got put in my jacket after I was advised that it can harm one's posture if kept in a pants back pocket. I was set up in other words to change my typical habit to have the wallet stolen just after an ATM visit at lunchtime. So perps,... if ever I get off this insane litany of abuse, I want all the money back, and I want to take a bat to every fucker that had a hand in any wallet losses.

Plenty of web surfing this afternoon, and none of yesterday's or this morning's futlity games reprised thankfully. But instead, another one; Firefox uses SQLite to store their bookmarks in and it occured to me that I could transfer the voluminous bookmark information into Oracle tables and putz around with them as a learning exercise for my Oracle courses, past and potentially future ones. Upon investigation I find that the SQLite information needs to be compiled, and if there is to be any GUI tool for the development application, its dependencies need to be downloaded too. Does this dependency train sound familiar? As in pointless endeavor fraught with peril, as in imposed fuckery?

One can end up afraid of one's shadow in the harassment game, especially if one has been burned by so many things going wrong. I shall do some more web surfing to see if I can get a compile over the web, and not have to do another install.

The backups software saga continues in near-dead time; sending emails back and forth every few hours isn't exactly what I had in mind for getting the issue resolved. And then the sickos sabotaged my snapshot of the screen, creating a missing file, and I was extremely pissed about that, as the simplest things are getting sabotaged on top of the more complex things that were sabotaged in the first place. But for an outfit that is compelled to disrupt EVERYTHING, all to slow it down for their functional decompostion games, this is all fully expectable. Better yet they have me on a short fuse with the fucking new medication, and can we say "volatile" writ large.

Other pointless futility was attempting to get SQL Lite going, which I did in part but cannot get the GUI tool to work with it, so that makes it no fun at all, not to mention cryptic connect strings that insist on staying that way. I never have seen such crap software, but it fits the perps pattern as they just love to add more fucking misery oon top of what is already created. Enough typo adversity in creating this, so this is it for today.

Sorry for the above repairs; the perps like us TI's to re-read things, especially when there are some changes, which reminds me of getting documentation prepared in my working days, and the number of times someone would take it south. So I figure that my loyal readership might be getting the same treatment, albeit with neuron level oversight of one's energetic field and then comparing that to the energetic field in reading the first version which had mispellings and grammatical errors. Just my take on how things are, but feel free to make your conclusions. And don't forget to note that you just may have read the first version at say, 0900h, and then encounter this updated blog version at about the same time the next day. Again, more speculation of course, but I would not be surprised if this occured for at least one reader. (Predicting the events for one out of two loyal readers would be another "fine coincidence" wouldn't it? Truth be told, the Google counter went on the fritz, or else was spoofed for that many, and in any case, I gave up looking at the visitation count a long time ago).

And it is the silly season for the perps, coming on the Winter Solstice tomorrow. Back in 2005, they put on twice as many gangstalker parties on my trail hike I did that day, which was also twice the number of vehicles that were in the parking lot. Sure, the trail runners can come by twice and be gone by the time I get to the parking lot upon completion of my hike, but it is rare that there was more than two parties of them. One of those Solstice Stalkers looked very much like my in-town brother, save having two good eyes; he looked at me and gave me his telltale smirk, and it looked like him in nearly all respects; height, comportment, size, major facial bones but was a little different in the face. A week later I asked him if that was him on the trail and he gave me a vague "no", but wouldn't look at me. I then asked how he got there as he isn't much of a hiker and there were far more parties than parked vehicles, and he wouldn't answer me. That Solstice was on a Sunday, the 21st, the last weekend day of shopping before Christmas, and twice the usual number of weekend gangstalking parties were hiking that day. Give me a break, it was a total fix, brother included with minor facial morphing. Funny, he phoned for a useless phone call about five minuted before I typed this one up.

I cannot believe this bullshit; I have a longstanding beef about not being able to find office casual quality shirts with a crew neck. This has being going on for decades. I wrote a note to Lands End and the perps stripped out the submit button on the web page, which I only "notice" per mindfuck games, after I finished the letter. Same old, same old.

Today 12-20-2009 the futility/adversity jerkaround is being able to send a note to Lands End, the submit button was pulled from their email page, and then the live keyboard chat wouldn't work either. The the copy of what I was to send got truncated in Yahoo Notepad and is uneditable as the edit button has been stripped out.

A Chicken Run, and were they all over me; the Mythbusters guy had his doppelganger in the elevator on the way out; the goofy beret, the big blonde mustache, and the entire comportment, albeit that he was quiet and I didn't see much of him as I faced the door. And an orange shirt, and little did I know that the chicken I purchased only came in steeped in orange barbeque sauce. And too, at least five "stand theres" sentries on me when heading out, in the store at the hot chicken counter, and outside at the corner of the store and the parking lot. Also the male fugly hair/hurl -dos; ponytails on men make me want to hurl.

Did I not say I expected some orange color hijinx above, now that I dropped the orange colored medication as I was getting way too strung out on it given the intensified adversity that has been going on. Now, the overhead (12" concrete floor/ceiling) is getting pounded as I write this.

This update might go to 1700h or so.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Pseudo Shopping

A good name for what the perps like me to do; research on a specific item's acquisition for a week or more, then drop it after eventually planting the rationale that the item is too expensive, and then have me start up the same shopping jag again after a few weeks or even months. Today it was pot lids; the infernal pots I bought new in the spring don't have lids, so some web search indicated that cookware dot com was a helpful site, and I duly bookmarked it. Since then, other cookware interests erupted; spatulas, knife sharpening, a colander, a skimmer and a few others. Then this morning, it "happened" (brilliant thought); while looking at the same pot lids after leaving the topic for at least six monthsI could add the other items tp the same order. Ergo, researching them all for two hours, bookmarking them (always noisestalked), and compiling what could be an order, albeit in the form of saved bookmarks for now. Any kind of rational decision making is also hijacked; if I really cannot afford a $150 mandoline, why in the fuck am I bookmarking it for future reference? And so it goes, this big go-round over just what might be ordered, what could be ordered later if flush with cash, and then the absurdly too expensive. All to end up with some 100 or more bookmarked sites to then trove through again, maybe in a few weeks or months which might culminate in getting the few most neccessary items. My mother was going on about pot lids yesterday and that they aren't included with pots any more when sold at the stores. This is a rather facile oversimplification, as they are for the most part, except in my instance, har, har. Anyhow, a big perp surge is on, and it is all about cookware for crissakes. And I am the guy they have eating the same food nearly every mealtime, after defeating my normal interest in eating a variety of foods.

After the many glitchy dialog boxes I finally get to place my order for the pot lids and two other cookware items, and lo, if an $80 order doesn't become a hefty $152 order due mostly to a $50 shipping charge to cross the US- Canadian border. I have ordered plenty of stuff online, but have never have seen such a high shipping charge. So, I cancelled the order after phoning them up and confirming the shipping amount. But as the perps are roundly interested in stopping all my financial transactions at a certain junctures, this sounds like another setup. Just to think; hours of selection and review, at least another hour to work through the order and get it right, and then get screwed at the penultimate order page. All for killing my order; another day at the office at the office for the sickos and at least 10 months of buildup starting with the purchased pans without lids. This futility wil doubltless to play again sometime.

I "discover" that my IP supplier sends music over the internet, for free no less. And that they have a folk channel, even better. I get the Windows Media Player upgraded, (which explains why this PC attempted to upgrade it yesterday for the first time and somehow failed -to get more "face time" in on this software I figure). Then get the service running, get stalled out with the default rock channel by way of some glitches, and am finally allowed to find and then listen to the folk channel. Then I see the Galaxie feed has hijacked the Windows Media Player and it comes without a volume, mute or pause button. That means if I get a sucky song, I either have to hear it through or else close the player down. It is amazing the detail that the sickos go to for changing my environment and imposing their psychopathic abuse agenda. And what for? -just because they won't come out of the closet on their human nonconsensual experimentation agenda.

A shut-in day so far, though I might dare to go to the grocery store, post headphone wearing (silver-grey color) to the silver-grey painted supermarket and some of the immediately adjacent buildings. They are all over me if I stop at the new Christmas chocolate sections. Most of the day has been spent wearing the noise protection earmuffs, a deep green color. (And there has been plenty of noise outside until I put them on).

I did get out for a chocolate run, though I did get plenty of gangstalking; they erupted after I stepped out of the apartment building and into the rain. My same floor smilely man was outside this time, and I got at least four tall women, taller than me (6') before I got to the front door of the supermarket. One obvious Fuckwit who got out of her Alberta licenced vehicle and proceeded to get in front of and then slow down the walking pace. This artful piece of tailing fuckery depends on the victim making a decision to pass the ambulatory stalker ahead, usually because there isn't too much further to go, or to pass them is too fraught with oncoming ambulatory gangstalkers. She gives me the stare in the parking lot, and when ahead of me she slows down, to then slow me down as the doorway was only 12' away. And she did "happen" to find me in the store, some 10' away while I was looking over the jam, she was bent over looking at the cheese. Her coat was the very same blue of the coat that hangs in my closet that was next to the one I was wearing. I have seen enough of these "next coat in the closet" color matches whenever I step outside to know this cannot be a coincidence.

The pot lid ordering hasn't gone away; another two hours of troving Amazon dot com and dot ca to find the same ones in their metric sizes (converting back and forth), and just enough stripped out of those two websites to force me to go the the true vendor and not Amazon as it seems they only keep a virtual storefront for the respective businesses that are really doing the selling. And unfortuneately, the wonderfully inexpensive shipping of Amazon isn't availible either. And after doing my online selections, why the "shopping cart" got emptied by someone and so it had to be done again.

Enough of the minutiae that is so vital to the perps.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Document Abuse

A busy day for the most part, culminating in putting my grant application together after getting some pages photocopied and meeting my employment counsellor. I ended up doing form filling while she was working on another part of the document, and she really did like to ask me questions while in mid-form filling, if not mid-sentence writting. I was copying from the 09-2009 grant submission onto the same blank form for the 12-2009 submission, and it really does seem importatnt to the perps as to where/when I get my information from while form filling. I some boxes I filled from recall, in others I read the question, read my answer, and then copied it down on the new form which was identical. And it was also important for the perps, as evidenced by extra noisestalking when I copied an answer down, but changed the sentence to be more consise.

I was always plagued with not being able to fill out forms correctly, and now I know it was these assholes who get so much mileage from the wrong item being put in the wrong box. They were fucking me bad on this yesterday when here at my apartment, and wanted to fuck me the same way again when in someone else's office. Makes sense, as this Fuck and Repeat show keeps getting played in differing locations in the company of differing individuals. The good news is that the doctor is going to support my grant grovelling application this time, leaving the explanation of why he didn't do this in September (when $12k was on the table) remains inadequately answered.

And tonight when I had the time to collate the photocopied pages into the 12-2009 application, I find out that at least three documents are "missing" when I clearly had them this morning when the counsellor was reading them. And another two pages of new material, my interview notes of the instructors at the Oracle 11g course, when totally missing, and I cannot understand how any of these documents got lost. Needless to say, I was totally infuriated as this has fucked me around to have me print more off, but the interview notes were handwritten and cannot be recovered. Good for a round of screaming rage-ification  or two.

This timed after I got back from visiting the First Feral Family home, having dinner there, watching the TV news for 1.5 hours and then travelling with the freakshow back on the city bus. The latter was muted, only five Fuckwits "joining me", about what one would expect in suburbia on a Thursday night headed to downtown.

The fuckers got me on the outbound trip at 1300h. The #27 bus did not show up twice in succession, for a 40 minute span, likely to keep me at the bus stop for longer while the coordinated vehicles went by; silver greys, reds, whites, blacks, and for the second time, two copper colored vehicles in file. When I finally caught the alternate #28 bus, it was jam packed, which was total bullshit for that time of day. The freakshow was in full presentation, and they kept me standing for half the bus journey, and some assholes made a point of bumping into me, three of them were on me at once. This is because they herded me to the rear exit door where they always post at least one Fuckwit, but this time it was three of them. Then when I got a seat, another three of them moved together, seemingly independently, and stood side to side, pretending the other wasn't there. I haven't seen anything quite so coordinated and so brash on the bus before.

But I did get my wacko while waiting at the bus stop; some fucking weird dude stood 2.5' away and facing me, put out his arm with his closed hand toward me and said, "merry Christmas and happy New Year". Then he did it to the next person at the bus stop. So... why does all this weird shit keep happening to me? Buses pulled from their route twice in succession, hordes of Fuckwits on the bus at 1335h, (pretend building trades laborers even), and not to mention the 12  Asian of 15 Fuckwits surrounding me at the bus stop. Totally bizarre at this location there would be so many at non-shopping area of downtown, let alone the large Asian contingent. This was not in Chinatown, and there is no demographic rationale for such a strange cluster fuck as this one.

I fired off a complaint to BC Transit, the bus operator, so I will have to see what they say. They have been running the buses up to 5 minutes early, and so I was ready for this one, but lo, if they didn't pull the buses this time. It isn't the first time this stunt has erupted, but it better be the fucking last time. My mother chimed in saying it was happening to her too. Just what I need, another quisling and their faux empathy act.

And so, driving the First Feral Family mother around this afternoon with impossible volumes of vehicular gangstalking traffic. And have I not mentioned that the perps go beserk with extra vehicular and extra Fuckwits when the First Feral Family is altogether, or any one of them with me? At least a few hundred times I should think. It was first a Home Depot stop with two near identical Nissan silver-grey Altimas, one parked on each side of my mother's Ford Escape in the parking lot. One was populated by the owner, a woman with her small child tracking us from outside the Home Depot exit some 100' to the vehicles. I was doing the driving as usual.

Then onto a lighting shop to eventually purchase the very same lighting fixture that my mother rejected at Home Depot. The downstairs bathroom is getting renovated and the guy "happened" to break the fixture, and so my mother needed to get a new one. This one has halogen bulbs that burn much hotter, and I am sure this excites the perps a whole bunch as they like them to be arranged around me in a gradual progression. On only for a brief exposures at first, either directly or through a wall. The halogen lamp in the living room has only been used for the last year of the six years my parent's have had it. The problem for the perps is that these lights give off an electromagnetic field, something I determined when my field strength meter was working (if it wasn't beeing spoofed). The two halogen lights I have had since 2001 are rarely used, as they now flicker. The two LED lights I bought from Ikea in September haven't been used either because they flicker too. Funny how all this insane shit over lighting, including sunlight, keeps erupting.

Enough of the beserk shit, and hopefully more calm on the harassment front.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009


A slack day, being contained to web surf all day. Not even the laundry to do. The excitement for the perps might be that I began using the black razor blades (black plastic mount) instead of  the grey plastic ones for the past 10 or more years. Regular readers will know that I am routinely noise-stalked or otherwise harassed while shaving, and it still continues. Even some rage-ification stunts in the last week while shaving. They especially like water to flick around, and they will have drops unilaterally, without any applied force (or even a modicum of association), hop from the sink basin to the counter top, or onto me or the floor. Exciting moments for the assholes to be sure, but after 7.5 years of this insane fuckery, I don't need to explain how fucking fed up I am.

They had it rain most of the day, and seemingly they cannot get enough vehicle exposure from where I sit in mid apartment as I cannot see the road from this desk. But as the opposited residential tower has a large vacant courtyard, why, put a vehicle there; two tones of grey and with blue plastic covering the white colored canopy window of the pickup. And don't ask how it got there as there is no driveway or ramp to enable vehicular egress. Just another day at the office for them, teleportation of vehicles, but this time without a cover story. Never mind, it isn't the first time they have chucked the nominal plausible rationale nonsense they seem to need to arrange. Besides, if they want to flash patterned lights in my vision all day long, which they do, there is no ruse event that can cover for that.

And I don't need anyone telling me how to get a handle on it either, because I do. Anytime bread crumbs can arrive under the dishes drain rack on the dishes drain board (white color) some 3' away, and then also concurrently arrive 5' away on the white stovetop concurrent with cautious and crumb disseminating preventive bread removal from the plastic package it comes in, tells me that it must of been teleported. Like I said, just another day at the office for the Supreme Sickos, the world SS.

Then onto the pointless pursuit exercise for me to engage in this evening; a stunt/routine they like to pull some 2 to 4 times per month. They had me research the web for something that doesn't appear to exist (or that the arranged search results don't show); an internet radio that fits into the 5.25" bay on the front of the PC. There are some music playing bay inserts, but as far as I can tell, none of them are radios, only music players that access files on the PC. It would be nice to have a volume knob on the PC as the assholes jerk with the volume settings on the player software to either blast my ears or make it too faint. But even a physical knob could be messed with, as I came to learn that they intruded into my NAD CD player and effectively killed it as it won't play any more, and they are very dependable players. They did this to have me take it in for repair, and had it play for a song or two after I got it back, and then killed it again. All to make sure I knew they didn't want me to play it or attempt to fix it again.

Besides, they rarely allow me to play any disc in my PC, and I don't know why this is. I do get the odd gangstalker with a plastic bag full of DVD's, as if they were stolen from a break-in with the Fuckwit riding the bus afterward,  but I really don't know what this confers to them besides a huge array of reflective  surfaces and pits, along with the plastic interactions (polycarbonate DVD plastic to PVC plastic bag). The topic of plastics also dominates the perp agenda, PC's being one example. Once, they killed a perfectly fine steel cased PC router I had, and they told me it was because it was made of metal. I ordered a plastic cased router and it works fine, since 2004.

My new Blu-ray drive in the PC sits unused so far, as all the software was copied over from the old PC's hard drive, and I cannot afford the scratch for DVD/BD movies anyhow. I suppose it has a future role in the perp's plans, but don't ask me what it is. There are many examples where they arranged events such that a particular coat, boots or other item was used for the first time in over a year after it had been acquired, though for seeming rational reasons at the time. The present longest term item that remains unused is my safety toed boots, a Kevlar toe instead of the horrid steel toed equivalents. I bought it in 09-2008 in the expectation on working on the many construction jobs my workmates were telling me about, which never materialized. I didn't need them for farm laboring, so it remains a big mystery as to why they had me cough up $150 with my discount to have them sit there in the closet. And even more odd was that these were wide sized boots, although with a good fit, as that was all they had in my 9.5 size, or any close size, 9 or 10. It would be highly unlikely that the objective would be to just waste my money, though this has been done, so as the song goes, "let the mystery be".

Other games today have been to touch me frequently, at least 100x so far, but with no apparent cause. Sirens have been playing big today, and they even put on a 1960's mechanical siren noise to go with the current day version. This morning's first siren came on when eating chocolate with my coffee, and regular readers will know that the perps are totally obsessed with the color of brown, and with my mouth contents, and so when a brown food is in my mouth it is total nirvana from their depraved perspective.

Another jerkaround today was to make salad making and eating a total pain while having the salad flip around in the bowl and off the fork multiple times. This begat a notion, likely planted, to finally end this fucking insanity over eating salad that has been getting worse for the last two weeks by heaving the rest of it out into the garbage and dispatch it down the chute. No doubt that was all arranged too, as the garbage is the ultimate in the juxtaposition of all things that don't normally come into contact. Funny how the salad sabotage liability wasn't recalled when I bought it at the store. Maybe they wanted only a one time test of it, as it was in a polycarbonate clam shell tray with a cling wrapped top to keep it all in, and we know how the perps like to engage in differing plastics interactions (repeating the above theme), especially with a live food item like salad leaves. And to note that the perps go totally beserk with Cling Wrap fuckery anytime I use it, and have been insanely relentless for all of the last 7.5 years. They will have the Cling Wrap fold in on itself, become impossible to unstick, but also have it so it won't stick on the plate edges to seal the food.

Whenever I have moved, and helped others move, I use my cling wrap like twine, some 8" wide to wrap furniture in so it won't spill while being handled. I think I have done enough Cling Wrap use for two lifetimes worth, and still the assholes set up cling wrapped pallets of flour in brown colored bags on the street outside bakeries. Ditto at the farm labor job until it ended last month; 20" wide cling wrap film to wind around a pallet load of brown colored boxes some 6' high, walking around and around it until it was all plastic wrapped and stil the assholes are all over me on this. But then again, this topic leads to pallet stalking, and you likely have read about this as well. The perps repeat themselves, but when you think about it one can see the reason; nearly everything is shipped on a pallet, so they need to understand the energetics of pallet to object interaction, and of course of all intervening cardboard or other packaging. On a speculative note, I am sure that somewhere, likely many times, that the food or objects that I have purchased were taken straight off the factory production line, without any collation or packaging for shipping, and have the item on the store shelf for me to purchase by way of their unconventional shipping methods. Doubtless they have many tens of thousands of Fuckwits volunteering as well, undertaking consensual human experimentation, unlike the insane abuse of their nonconsensual program/life rape agenda.

Enough for a post, and onto tomorrow with two outings.

PS Would the Anonymous of 12-13-2009 who authored the four Youtube comments get in touch to tell me that they are legit; this infernal version of Blogspot doesn't allow any cut or paste from the unmoderated comments. Just so I can separate the spam from the legit comments. Thanks

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Detailing the Alternate Reality

A post from Jeremy on his interpretation as to "getting an handle" on my strange experiences. A thoughtful answer, but not a complete one, and one that sticks in my craw from the presumptuous re-interpretation camp.  Perhaps Jeremy is intending to be helpful, and offering me some other ideas as to how my reality is being perturbed with in mostly unconventional ways, minute by minute or even on shorter time frames than that. The perps have a long history of instignating email slanging matches despite good intentions, and I am hoping that my answer below isn't taken as provocative.

I operate from the perspective of applying conventional (gravitic and human behavioral) explanations first for the oddities that regularly occur, and that is my long standing bias. I don't opt for weirdness for its own sake, nor do I try to make things seem stranger that they are. And nor am I some kind of science fiction groupie who has found some perverse nirvana of being involved in these bizarre and imposed circumstances. Two shrinks tell me I am being persecuted, and that should be enough for most people to accept my observations as a premise and start questioning their notions of the physical state of the world as they have come to know it. A tall order, to be sure, but hopefully the Relevant Science for Action at a Distance Energies section to the right, and other's similar stories (alien abductee's being one prominent category), will guide the objective reader into arriving at the conclusions I have come to. If not, tell me where I have missed out on convincing you.

Rather than getting into a pseudo-technical arguement as to how the perps are having their Fuckwits arrive around me in public locations without noise or apparent approach, something I am highly attuned to, and any other explanations as to their methods, I wish to keep this at the level of having learned all these games because they have being going on for so long (7.5 years as of now), and because the perps gently, but continuously, introduced me to these. And they have a long history of perturbing me with their alternate explanations until such time as I accept them, through my own rational analysis and also back-tested with strange events prior to the assholes going overt/beserk on me since 04-2002. I don't accept anything they tell me ar first blush, and one of the long running side games is that they often posit unreasonable events or re-interpretations of my past, or even the historical past, and if I reject them as unfounded, unlikely, irrelevant, don't care or immaterial, they will usually try again sometime later in the day, or following days.

My level of understanding as to what they are doing has been crafted by their agenda, through their examples, but analysed by me, and accepted or rejected according to my own conventional perspectives, not the least of which was tedious science classes in high school. An example is the horrific events of 9/11; about the time the "truthers" and other technical doubters began to surface in say, 2005, I was up to my neck in all manner of odd coincidences, and the last thing I needed was to engage in another significant event and re-work my own conventional understanding of the entire physicalities of those catastrophes. But as it "so happened", over a period of a year or more, and after reading many reasoned and rational opinions (likely arranged for me to find) I began to change my perspective on what exactly happened that fateful day, especially when the Building 7 fell in its own footprint without benefit of a aircraft collision, that its fall was announced in advance on the BBC with the building still intact in the view behind the newsreader, and that it was going to be "pulled" (recorded on audio or video, and slang for demolished) in advance of it falling down. I have come to the conclusion that there was a whole lot more skullduggery going on in each instance of the three sites; NYC, the Pentagon and the Pennsylvania region crash. What exactly went on and why isn't clear to me, but I have come to accept a more conspiratorial take on the 9/11 events. And I see many parallels of investigational inquiry of the perps between my present unconventional Fuckover and the events of 9/11. (An example is the haul trucks that dumped soil on some of the smoldering piles the next day in NYC. I am constantly besieged with soil games (excavations in my proximity, soil digging jobs, soil on clothes etc.), and planted soil samples that are not from here. But I don't get involved with the 9/11 truthers and their cause as I carry a burden of strangeness with me, and don't wish to engage in heightened and unsubstantiable claims that do me, or them, no service. But I did come to accept that the events of 9/11/2002 were not adequately explained by the following inquiry, either in the physics or the behavior of senior US government officials, including the cabinet members. Check out past videos of the body language of Cheny and Rice as they attempt to explain what and why.

The above should serve as an example of how I come to arrive at differing conclusions than originally thought, and that is what I expect of objective readers. To quote one of my fave TI's I would like to meet, "this blog is kept real", all the time, and without baseless extrapolations. And if it seems that matter can be remotely manipulated to have extra conventional gravitic properties, like pee drops making impossible lateral leaps from the toilet or vertical ones that travel up some 3' to eye level and fall exactly back down in their upward trajectory, then that is what exactly happened. And it is not a big stretch to then have pee, or anything else totally disappear in mid-trajectory, or re-appear from nowhere. And then when birds materialize from nowhere in mid-air overhead, and the assholes treat me to teleporting operatives in my apartment when they invaded it in 2002, it is a bigger stretch to accept teleportation of animate beings. But as crumbs, doghair and lint routinely arrive from nowhere to pollute my immediate visual environment (over100x per day), have me touch more things I didn't intend to and/or to piss me off, these teleportation incursions seem to serve the perp's ongoing research initiatives in a dynamic and essential way (for them). They do teleportations routinely, effortlessly and frequently, as if were just another office prank, and were hired to be non stop pranksters. And I have mentioned in one of my Essential Introductory Postings that one of their prime objectives is related to the provenance (where things are from, including soil) of all objects, and especially foods and beverages.

So it would make perfect sense for the sickos to first arrange for local gangstalkers be in my presence as a calibrative exercise, and then insert (teleport) some Fuckwit from far away, the next block, the prior same room, the next building or whatever geographic proximities of interest to them at the time. There is a related distant dependent objective to all of this which I assume is related to the injection of teleported Fuckwits as well. How all these gangstalker are arriving in my proximity without me noticing them in advance and visually tracking them, or even hearing them, happens routinely anytime I am out it public. And it is happening more often in the past 12 months. It is likely that they have dithered me to not notice a Fuckwit arrive in close proximity unseen or unheard behind me, or an apparent sudden arrival in 60' front of me, by way of remotely applied neural intervention. But as there is a significant perp need for provenance testing, it also highly likely that many of the seeming teleportation arrivals come from other places, and in passing in close proximity in public places, they seem to gain some kind of remotely detectable analytical advantage of energetic interaction (electromagnetic or additional energies also, depending on your belief system), with all the engaged operatives availible for pre and post gangstalking testing.

The above precis should serve as notice that I have a handle on the imposed extra-conventional reality that I deal with, and that it involves technologies that are repressed from us plebians, and are routinely operational for the asshole Fuckwits that continue to make my existence a living hell. All because they lack the fucking gumption to front for their nonconsensual fuckery/experimentation, and have made grevious past fuckups that have impaired their progress after 47 years of constantly scripting and dogging me. (The fuckups being that they allowed ubiquitous pollutants to be ingested that have unpredictable quantum properties than macro electromagnetic ones, and that the traumatizations they inflicted from 1956 to 60 remain in subconcious memory, though deleted from conscious recall. Both these deemed explanations are supplied by the perps, though supported by the long standing themes, personal history and props of the imposed overt beserkness).

My last Oracle PL/SQL class tonight, and if I get the grant, I will start the Oracle DBA course Jan. 21, 2010. I have to wonder what in the fuck the perps get out of me taking these courses, save to inflict more abuse in the way of jerking my cognition while attempting to put software together. It seems in retrospect they have done this nearly all my adult life, the some half dozen times I have been involved in this activity, but they have been worse in the last 20 years with more recall deletions. Now, it is next to impossible as they won't let me even see my mistakes for a few minutes.

The pulled a big black vehicle with blacked wheels (no hubcaps) into the bus stall in advance of it coming and then jerked me around into being afraid of it. What a fucking sick joke, though they tell me that this was a subconscious reaction (what they are attempting to elicit) as my conscious recall of such vehicles with traumatization associations has been wiped out. I don't give a shit, just leave me alone, it is that fucking simple.

Then a cluster fuck of buses when outbound at the college, the first driver stopping in the middle of the bus turnaround so stop the one behind for a few minutes. More wierds in both bus commute directions; a big hatted Fuckwit had to sit one seat away, 90 degrees offset and draped his fugly hands over the seat back so they would be closer to me. I was sitting on the rear bench seat, and he got up to go, went to the rear door, rattled it a few times and strangely it didn't open, as that is how they are arranged, to open on touch. Then he comes back and sits in the same seat near me, and rides the bus for another ten minutes. He then moved some 10' away in a forward facing seat where th blond woman had been, and inside a few minutes he comes back again as he had "accidentally" forgot his gloves on the floor. I don't know how the gloves got there, as I was watching this Fuckwith as he was creeping me out, and I would of seen the gloves tumble down. An excuse to "visit me", and leave a piece of his clothing as a reference perhaps. I get up to go and exit and he is still sitting in his seat, and when walking up the hill to the building a few minutes later, lo, if the Fuckwit isn't 40' behind me. It doesn't come any stupider than that, or more obvious IMHO.

The sickos seemed to slacking off a little on the gangstalker intensity tonight. I wonder what they have going on as this doesn't last for long. It is not like they take holidays, not in my experience.

So, I will call it a day and post this, hoping that tomorrow is a little more interesting than this shut-in time until 1740h when I headed off to my Oracle database course.

Monday, December 14, 2009

More Tigers + minor 12-15-2009 updates

And did I not predict more tiger activity after the Tiger Woods and the rampant tigers at the zoo? I got two exposures of tigers, this week's (or month's) seeming theme. Last night on Frost, he was unravelling an illegal animal trade operation, and lo, if he didn't have finale with a tiger that left from its cage. Onto the next show, a documentary on India, and the mangrove swamps of the Sunderbans River delta where tigers roam, and the increasing number of "tiger widows", a consequence of their hunting husbands getting mauled as they hunt from small boats in the swamps. My empathies lie with the tigers. What exactly the perps are attempting to gain by their tiger exposure games I have no idea. Another tiger story of some time ago was when I was at a local club that had Rod Piazza and the Mighty Flyers and in another part of the club was a strip joint, with a stripper that has does an act with the tiger. So...., during a break in the show, I went outside, but still in the building, to an area that overlooked a courtyard, and lo, if the woman, a handler and the tiger weren't walking in the public area. It seemed to be one of those "just happened' events", though in hindsight with the infernal harassment and abuse, as well as living an orchestrated and scripted life (it seems on balance), I suppose the perps had arranged this for whatever reason, and doubtless, the timing was impeccable as always, following a set of much appreciated good music. No more tiger stories, but I don't think this will be the last of the arranged exposures.

A full-on day of gangstalking, with the double event of staying at the home of the Fisrt Feral Family and not taking any yellow colored medications today. The yellow vehicle gangstalking was out in force, and I even had a side by side red and yellow vehicle with a white one in front so they could travel three abreast and prevent me from getting by. Another flux of dudes, more middle aged in the morning, and even wearing shorts for crissakes in the 0C degree weather. Later, while at the doctor's office, a parade of Fuckwits looking metally infirm, and in progressions of red, brown, and red and brown combination clothing that followed the initial wave of greys, blacks and whites. The doctor was at least 15 minutes late, and I was ten minutes early, so that made for quite a lengthy gangstalk parade. I also saw one of my female yoga classmates there, and I suppose that wasn't too out of the ordinary, given the clinical nature of the clientele.

The waiting room has these copper colored fabric chairs, a recent renovation, and I suppose this is a big attraction for the perps as well, as the copper colored vehicle gangstalking has increased to the point of even putting two of them in file sometimes. I cannot stand the color, save for more of the bronze variations, and the reddish copper colored vehicles are particular hideous IMHO. But as the perps are totally beserk over the color of everything I see or touch, and even the colors of the insulators of the AC wires, it is a mystery to me as to what exactly is the connection between all of the copper color games that they put me through.

The silver-grey games are constant, and it is one of their most common reference colors along with white, and this too likely has metallic connotations similarly to copper colors as detailed above. I am also getting more gold, and yellow-gold colors, though so far, this is much less than copper colored vehicular gangstalking. Chances are that the latter may increase along with the copper color games. It is all very perturbing to be in the center ring of this insane and abusive and depraved circus, and knowing one cannot get out.

The perps had me pumped for a confrontation with the health case worker at the doctor's as the rationale for today's consult which was on relatively short notice, as we were to meet Feb. 10, the usual two to three month interval. But this appointment was two weeks after I saw him, and there was an implied need on his part to see me so soon. Said case worker did a cameo, getting in his office ahead of me to get a chart supposedly, and getting out before the consult started. She featured herself in fugly puke brown knitted wool coat, the kind the wind blows through. Then she was gone. So after some three months of this setup, where I wanted to address her gonzo jerkarounds that cost me two training grants ($12k) never materialized. The intent and the thought memes to rip her quisling broadsides was again thwarted, despite the perps not letting me forget this bullshit. Hopefully, this will be the end of it, as it had a recent revival as I encountered the training grant application submission, and her gonzo statement resurfaced.

Funny, how I didn't react with "fucking asshole" or such like when I saw her do her cameo, timed to occure when the office had been vacated, and the doctor and I were walking toward his office when she "happened" into view. AND that spells mind control writ large; anyone who jerks me around gets relegated to a lifetime category of "fucking asshole", "fucking sick asshole", "fucking scary asshole" or like. There is very little one can do to redeem themselves to escape such a deserved label in my way of seeing things, and she had already burned me once before after a prior "I won't screw you around" commitment.  One of my most basic instincts, this attributive classification of "asshole" (i.e., a threat) never came to mind when I first saw her doing her cameo this afternoon. Another never-before behavior, and am pissed that I am not allowed to think "asshole" when I see one with a track record that earned such attribution. One is not allowed to be one's self.

Then onto the city bus freakshow afterward; the parade began again with bumper to bumper gangstalking vehicle traffic, and then put on the scary fucker dudes again, just about all of them with a cigarette in hand. The Big Yellow Fuckwit, likely put on because I don't take my yellow colored medication as I stay overnight at my parent's place and "forget" to bring them (everytime, weekly for over two years, give me a break), was on me with cigarette in hand. Then a negro male with a cigarette in hand, and then another dude with a cigarette followed within 20 seconds. Fucking weird, and the big joke might be that cigarettes must be some kind of brown color reference with a white colored paper around it, and presumably this color continuity is important. I suppose one shouldn't entertain that the cigarettes might have been from the same package. The perps also have a harassment theme related to one's lungs, breathing, and the energetic differential between the incoming air and the outgoing air. Yogis might infer this is related to the universal life force, if there is such a thing, and that it is manifested in one's breathing and oxygen and CO2 exchange. Obviously another long conspiratorial theme, and one that I am not much interested in, and am passing it on as a possible clue to what their beserk agenda is all about.

And more brown color games last night; my mother offers me a toffee when watching TV and I accept, put it into my mouth, and lo, if a brown skinned woman doesn't come into the show as a character. Ditto today in the doctor's office waiting room; a brown colored page of the newspaper comes into view, and lo, some 18' away, a same deep brown coated Fuckwit comes into view, loitering in front of the well lit Christmas tree.

Other stupid shit was at Home Depot this morning; a black leather jacketed Fuckwit only 8' from me starts doing his arm stretches in the aisle for crissakes; one was enough, but he kept on doing it for over 5 minutes straight, all the time I was attempting to find the fucking picture hangers which were put on the end of the aisle, all to force more back and forthing. (This is routine now; any store I don't know well is frought with going to the wrong places and some "missing" the very items I am looking for). Finally, at the far end of the aisle, having paralled the aisle with the leather jacketed Fuckwit doing his arm stretches, I find the picture hangers, and lo, if the Fuckwit isn't standing there with both arms extended horizontally, as if he was to be nailed to a cross. Fucking bizarre, along with the coterie of some four others who were placed around him, pretending this bizarre behavior wasn't happening. Never have so many shiftless and bizarre Fuckwits worked for so long and as strange a cause to deliver unrelenting harassment and abuse to serve the greater Psychopathic Imperative.

Other brown games today was on board the city bus freakshow, though less freaks but jam packed. Among the gangstalker crew were two children, age 6 or less, each with a gingerbread house made of (brown) graham crackers, white icing and embedded Smarties (dark brown inside). So..., only 6' away, and coddling them in their laps, but the Christmas time nonsense has no end of variations when it comes to putting on the parade in all its facets and fuckery. Past city bus freakshow trips this December have had four red velvet dressed Fuckwits in a Santa Claus outfits, though thankfully without the gut show.

And they almost didn't let me off the bus; two sentries at the back door, one on each side, and neither of the fuckers budged when it was profoundly clear that I wanted off and they were holding me up. On the left, a red-haired woman, and on the right, a red-coated high school student. Obviously this is a big Fuckover day, a Monday post First Feral Family home stayover, prior morning outings with the Matriarch Quisling, and then the doctors' visit, himself being brown skinned. And I did get a parade of red vehicles and redcoat Fuckwits passing by as seen in the window behind his head, so I can assume that these are the continuation of when they put the long-serving gangstalking Coca Cola delivery truck in the same juxtaposition. Other features of the active landscape behind him were vehicle lights; a new parking lot got put in two years ago on a sloped area, and lo, if one of the through lanes isn't arranged for vehicles to be elevated and pointing their headlights down toward me from 100' away, and the light beams coming in just beside his head. And he says that I am over sensitized to distractions; and I say that anyone would be in my cicumstances. And so goes the impasse.

And they had me succumb to  his exhortations to take medication that will make me feel less put-upon, aka distracted and/or stressed by the ongoing parade of fuckwits, not to mention the onslaught of adversity that mostly gets delivered while here in the Magnetic Chamber (my apartment). So yet again, I am going to try one of his special medications, the one that someone with ADD would be least likely to take, and I am sure this serves the life-rape imperative more than me, and represents the fifth fucking time I will have been served this particular clinical brain blocker. We shall see how it goes, and hope that no more color coordination goes on with the pill color, white this time. Though snow isn't forecast here, it is for Vancouver, and we might get some as well. Regular readers may recall that the last such medication intake I relented to were orange colored pills, and within two days of taking them, why, a First Feral Family dinner was scripted and we had three kinds of orange colored vegetables. Enough to make me dizzy it seemed at the time, and perhaps the perps were directly manipulating up my distaste for orange colored objects. I still get the orange plastic bag patrol, and only yesterday one fuckwit started swinging it about as I was going to pass him by and relieved of this stupid irritation.

Its past midnight almost, so time to call this one done and pull myself from the chirping and ringing earmuffs; the sound slowly builds up and I don't notice it until the assholes want me to.

Note to the Anonymous who sent four comments with Youtube video links; the Windows Cut and Past functions are stripped from Blogspot and I cannot view them in advance of rejecting/publishing them. Can you send some confirmatory email or comment that these You Tube videos are legit and not spam? Thanks.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Clicking in the Ear Muffs +Next Day Add On

I wear ear muffs plenty often to block the cacaphony of dumbshit noise that goes on all day, mostly from outside. But when they start a clicking noise in the the ear muffs, it is time to pull them off. And so begins this blog, timed for me blogging after this annoyance, of a deep green plastic construction with black pads to seal my ears and a metal sprung headband spanning my head. Just another event in this imposed alternate reality.

Another reason I started blogging was that I recieved a comment, which I selected to publish, and it hasn't shown up, and I had every intention to respond to it, and now (so far), it is gone for good. Just another event, in the long list of adversity that makes up every fucking day.

The comment was about teleportation and suggesting that it may not always be what it seems. I have no doubt the perps can cancel out ambient noise and have a gangstalker arrive behind me with no warning, and it has happened many times. I assume this is not a teleportation, though it could be, because experience tells me that clattering female gangstalker footwear that can suddenly go silent as the gangstalker departs, is blatant sound cancellation games; either neurally, or the physical waveform itself.

Other teleportation events relate to objects flying in onto my dinner plate at each meal, and even if looking at the plate when they arrive with an inordinant ping and ringing of the ceramic plate surface, they are not coming from anywhere that I can see, not the food I am holding which would be the only conventionally plausible source. Another favorite situation is to teleport is dog hairs (could be anyone's hairs, but I use doghair in an ironic sense as I don't have a dog or any pet- not allowed) on just cleaned surfaces. Once when cleaning the bathtub I gave up after forty of them "arrived" (didn't see them arrive, save one in a transitory metallic mid-air sheen over the spot it landed) on all the just-cleaned surfaces, all over the bathtub. And also, my vehicle has been moved 20' to be parked next to a washing machine on my landlord's lawn once, though again, I didn't see it move. I have seen the Fuckwits disappear out of mid-air only a few times, but mostly they arrange for me to have a momentary look away, and poof, they are there (or gone).

The police had three officers and two vehicles arrive within 5 seconds of me arriving at my parent's (insane quisling assholes) driveway, and I didn't see any of their vehicles nearby, so I figure this was a teleport job, and not the only one, as they pulled a similar stunt again. If there is a simple explanation for the noiseless arrivals and departures in my proximity (people or objects), I usually assign it to sound cancellation fuckery, and leave it at that. But as there are so many crumbs, lint and doghairs arriving all day (over 100/day at this time, and getting worse) without apparent cause, and of fabrics or colors that are not resident in my place or my wardrobe, I make what I consider to be the only conclusion that any other reasonable person can make, and that it was teleported. And the shear number of events in a day is far in excess of what I had experienced before the perps went overt/beserk in 2002. I hope this clears up the teleportation comment that was made by Anonymous, but the stories now number in the hundreds, thousands if I count each mealtime's crumbs, lint and doghairs. The above examples are only a few to demonstrate the range of unconventional causes the perps could be up to, and the conclusions I draw from them.

An all day Oracle PLSQL course today, and the perps got me plenty rage-ified at breakfast by ringing the glass coffee pot with no causal event. The spoon was at least 2" away and it did not move by itself to make contact to make the noise. (Or else they blanked me out totally, and blanked out the knowledge of discontinuous time which they couldn't do until 2006). Then they kept banging things like the jam jar where the knife did not contact the jar, slapped jam down from nowhere just an inch from the jam ladden knife, and crumb-ified the coconut butter I am using now, (and having it stored at room temperature next to a new peanut butter jar). One of those proximate games again, keeping the new replacement item (white coconut butter) next to the regular item (brown peanut butter) as stored in the kitchen. (Coconut butter is stiff and crumbly at room temperature and  and is best scooped out with a spoon). But as breakfast time peanut butter and jam were always big rage events, the perps are now ramping up with the short term replacement, coconut butter and jam. And in fact, they are applied jam first to then embed the coconut crumbs in it to keep them in place, though there is plenty of legitimate crumbing activity, without extra-conventional gravitic fuckery. And of course, reversing the application order of jam first on the toast is just too exciting for the perps as this is a limited time event, as I don't expect to be eating coconut butter too often as it is $15/500g. I am sure this is all part of their interest in edible oils, their digestion and assimilation, an ongoing perp interest of the highest order.

More strange events in class today; a large Fuckwit woman in a deep brown top and grey pants wanders into the central aisle in the classroom, starts touching some of the desks and PC's, makes out to be looking for something, and then wanders out some 30 seconds later, never to be seen again. They pulled this stunt last week, but with guys, who seemed to be totally out of it and didn't have a cover story like the electrician did (electrical panel) some time before that.

Another was having a strange male negro visitation in the classroom; I only caught the last 5 seconds of his visage, but he appeared to be exiting the far end of the classroom where the hallway was. Most curious, he in a reflective metallic blue sports jacket, and seemed to be like the one on the bus two days ago. Another negro gangstalker placement was downtown when spotted waiting on the other side of t he crosswalk, and then they immediately had me looking at way more attractive black Audi A3 (?) station wagon passing between us. Regular readers will know they pulled a similar trick about a year ago; having the negro posing in front of the apartment building and then diverting my attention to dog shit only 2' to my immeidate right side. I wouldn't normally of looked at the latter as I had obviously not seen it and it wasn't an ambulatory threat/problem, so for me to look totally sideways while heading forward (like the perps do) was uncharacteristic enough to be labelled as a perp directed attention move. Just another negro comparison event it would seem, the Unfavored and then the Favored within a short time span of only a few seconds.

I get plenty of imposed "blank outs" as to what is ailing my PL/SQL code, and I never made such obvious errors before in this endeavor. It seems that the perps can now customize "blindness" (cognitive recognition of print) for a specific line or word set; it doesn't register as being seen or recognized.

The chirp noise stalking was going on all day yesterday, and as mentioned, there is no ostensible cause that I am aware of that would cause it, these two second long chirps with a varying pitch as the sound decays. And just to drive the point home, they woke me up sometime last night 0200 to 0500h, just so I could hear this freaking noise again. I suppose they are doing nightime correlations between the noise and the neural stimulation, as the time of day and the lighting conditions are so vital to their research. And lo, if the same noise didn't somehow get through the ear muffs I am wearing tonight. Normally I get a din and a ringing noise the entire time I wear ear muffs, but they decided I needed some extra ludicrous examples of the gratuitous noise du jour.

Other perp beserkness today seemed to center on the fact I was wearing my dark grey undershirt, under an olive green sweater. This seemed to be the basis for at least a half dozen same colored vehicles parked outside this apartment building on my way to the bus stop. Normally I might get one or two of that color, but today they decided that this undershirt gets the extra beserk treatment. They even had an heating oil delivery truck painted the same color, making a delivery some 60' distant from the bus I was on. I have seen many of this company's heating oil delivery trucks on my gangstalked travels, and the tank has always had a bright metallic finish of aluminum or stainless steel. But today, a special delivery truck with the tank painted a deep dark grey, same as my undershirt. The last time I wore it, and swore off wearing this deep grey undershirt, was at the farm labor job when the specially deep grey painted military Sea King helicopter made at least eight sorties the times that I was outside.

The subzero weather has me wearing my only sweater, and an undershirt underneath, and it would seem that the perps have been working me over to wear a white undershirt, a mid-grey one, and now the deep grey one. All very exciting for them to be working me through the greyscale colors, though they could do better by leaving me the fuck alone.

Enough caustic commentary, and now to post this.

Another laundry morning, this time bedsheets which run on a two week cycle, the one set that I have, and gets mysterious brown stains on the pillow cases, possibly as an adjunct to the yellowing of the pillows, and the underlying mattress cover. How the intervening sheet doesn't get yellowed when sandwiched between the mattress cover and the pillow cases is only a secondary mystery as to where the yellowing and browning comes from in the first place. One cannot keep up on the bedsheet and clothing sabotage. The latter is playing out in the form of pilling on the three new shirts I ordered, and began with the inability to find quality casual crew necked shirts in a non-pilling fabric, such as stretch cotton. It defies logic as to how Lands End keeps up with the latest cotton fabric innovations for men's polo shirts and their women's tops and blouses, but cannot get it together for men's crew neck tops. Unless my version of their website is "de-tuned", which might be the case, as this fucking shirt quality/availibility/style game has been going on before they went over/beserk in 2002. There has been great mileage in this shirt availibility game, and I doubt if it is going to abate anytime soon.

Even the one nice stretch cotton shirt I had went through a metamorphosis, and "developed" a deep and even pleasant looking nap to the surface of the fabric in 2006, but they recently whacked it with accelerated wear at the neck seems, so it was time to retire it.

The salad fuckover games are still ramping up; they had me rage-=ified over having crumbs stick to my fingers that I couldn't get off, one being a slice of the hazel nuts that are added in. And great amounts of noise stalking when chopping up said hazel nuts, specially soaked for three days in advance. The raw food folks say that all nuts and grains should be soaked some days before eating as it brings on enzymatic changes that make it more nutritious and flavorful. I vouch for the latter, though who knows if this is a direct neural intervention fabrication or genuinely true. Suffice to say, making and eating salad is now at the near 100% provocation and rage-fication level as applying peanut butter and jam on toast fro breakfast. (Recently substituting coconut to similar results). They cannot get enough of getting me totally riled up in advance of eating salad. The usual provocations; crumb sticking (per above), salad leaf hopping (off my fork in unbelievable trajectories), flicking food across the counter, dumping food on the floor, and so it goes. Keeping a clean house is a total setup for continued and insane abuse.

My mother is arriving immenently for a First Feral Family get together, and I will be busy doing some driving for her on Monday. Then I get to see the doctor in the afternoon, he inserting this consult for reasons that have not been made apparent to me. The planted notion, nearly always wrong, it that this here blog has something he found offensive, which would be evidence of the first time he has read it, despite his general claims that date back to mid-2008.