Friday, July 31, 2009

On With the Fraud

A busy morning with three extra phone calls and an earlier meeting that turned down my request for a evening computer (ESRI Arc/GIS) courses in the fall. This expectation had been built up since early 2009 with the employment counsellor, and as it unfolded, there were two funds availible for disabled folk like me. It was the provincial funded grants were turned down, ostensibly because "I don't know what is going to happen to you if you take the courses". Either do I asshole, and I told you that over 8 months ago. But as I have been working doing daffodil bulb picking, berry picking, cleaning work for the past year, and have been reliably showing up for work 6x/week in the latter case, one can assume that if I have a job I will show up. Not good enough.

Then I told him about the doctor who repudiated his entire diagnosis, and that no succeeding clinician had phoned him about it, as well as supposed friends who never inquire, and otherwise constructed a reasonable defence as to there being wilful ignorance among the clinical and care giving community, but that still wasn't good enough. I told him that two (supposed) medical students at one of my sessions with the case manager said there was nothing wrong with me after I detailed my story for 20 minutes. Essentially, the entire angle of the meeting was for me to tell him the story of the past seven years of harassment and who didn't exert any objective analysis (everyone). And it seemed that although my supposed (social) case manager supported my training initiative, there were some negative aspersions she cast, making me out to be some kind of renegade as to treatment. Renegade by default that is, getting back to the coordinated (IMHO) wilful ignorance that is still playing out. This is the same woman who actually said "I won't screw you around", and has done such twice. Beware of fatuous statements when a TI. Anyhow, it was the latter that pissed me off, or more like, I was controlled to react in a more hostile manner rather than the decision to turn me down for the training grants. I kind of expected it, due to two meeting postponements, a two week holiday delay and the rest of the nebulous interactions.

And maybe the meeting was all about using my new vocabulary term, one the perps dropped on me three weeks ago, "wilful ignorance". And lo, if said employment counsellor dude didn't pretend to be interested in following up and not lapsing into that category, but I just got a kiss-off phone call from him, and he won't be doing any objective analysis either. As in "phone Dr. S--"; the above mentioned doctor who was allowed to say that I was persecuted. That makes at least five supposed responsible clinicians/counsellors who haven't taken up the challenge. It fits the pattern. But what I wondered is why they even started it, making Dr. S-- to be some kind of hero, after screwing me royally in the first place.

And the perps like to arrange more kiss-off events in a given day. It was the last night of the part time cleaning job at the car dealership, and most strangely (IMHO), all the staff departed, and they left it to us now ex-janitors to set the alarms and lock up. More strangeness, but who knows; does one follow the apparent lapse in building security, or go with the scripted flow, hoping nothing will go wrong between now and when they re-open the car dealership. In my Potemkin Bubble-world, I expect, and am usually treated to constant adversity and hassle, so I haven't got to the point when I will ever go with the scripted flow. If I do, I must be manipulated at the time.

And more paycheck adversity to go with getting paid for the cleaning job tonight; the berry picking outfit said they would mail my check and didn't, and they would do it tomorrow. Thanks, we only agreed to a final paycheck mailout three weeks ago, and I am sure that I would of been widely recalled. On another financial adverse front that is still playing out, the rent subsidy people haven't got back twice as to my inquiry for a subsidy increase, which I am told is availible.

All this bad news, or adverse events in one day. The when it rains, it pours kind of timing. Now that I know it is arranged, the big question is why do they do it this way, these confluences of adversity.

The last hour was spent looking at online job ads; all to a background of outside road traffic noise that can get through my earmuffs. Often, I pull the earmuffs off to block the noise with my fingers instead, and the noise is faint, so I don't bother. Then I put the earmuffs on again and lo, if the same noise coming through again. And so another pointless round of taking the earmuffs off to no avail. This kind of nonsense can go three rounds or more, the big deal is that they want me to take the earmuffs on at certain junctures in the evening.

And I see there are job opportunities for more berry pickers and cleaners, both of which I consider myself qualified. The blueberry picker pay is piece rate, $1.25/lb, and supposedly, 5 to 10 lb/hour. I somehow doubt that I will get to 10lb per hour given the usual adversity that I get cursed with, but who knows. Or, do I hang out for the daffodil bulb picking next week, as they said they didn't need anyone this weekend. This is the evasive employer that doesn't return calls or resumes despite a good work record with them last year. The biggest deal is figuring out what the perps want; is is disruption; work one day off, one on and the like for whatever reasons they have. Or, is it a move-around job like cleaning where one might walk a building, possibly doing several rounds. I haven't yet figured out what they have prescribed for me, but working at a workstation in a sedentary office job is decidedly not going to happen in the next year or two. That is what I read between the lines and the past working history they have allowed since 2003. It seems they don't like me to work fulltime either, as they even closed my berry picking down early some days. It wasn't enough that there were many weather shutdown days as well. They wanted a warm day early shutdown, two of which were disrupting my plans for my mother to pick me up at the end of the day for my Sunday stayover. That gig is over though, leaving the question; is it to be last year's employer where the perps have plenty of data and possibly allow more working days, or is it somewhere new for shorter? One never knows, and I will be sorting this out next week as there will be family visitations this long weekend, and the healthcare samples to complete next week.

Picture time, same views as before.

Taken 06-17-2009, 0659h. Four silver-grey sedans on the topmost side of the street, three parked in file, then a deep metallic red, and then a final lead silver-grey sedan. On the foreground side, two silver-grey vehicles, one behind a tree. Also, note the orange dressed person contrasting with the deep metallic red colored vehicle. It is very common for the perps to place the orange colors among the reds; ambulatory gangstalkers and vehicles alike or in combination like here.

Taken 06-28-2009, 1813h. A series of another lineup of silver-grey vehicles, with a likely metallic blue one "hiding" behind the tree.

And the obligatory plywood that the perps need to show me from my own apartment even. They cannot get enough of me seeing plywood from endless angles, directions, juxtapositions, cardinality and movements. I sense the phenolic resins are a big part of the deal, moving up one from the massive sawn timbers they would truck in my proximity.

As the plywood bearing pickup exits from the right, a black vehicle and a deep metallic red vehicle cross paths behind the tree. Probably an exciting moment for the assholes, putting this sequence together and having THREE vehicles (one parked) behind the same tree. Boy do they have a long way to go with their color placement games.

Enough for tonight, and to ponder what dulldom is scripted for tomorrow.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Three Jeans Pairs A Laundering

I have two regular pairs of jeans that I alternate and one faded back up pair. But as strange markings on the regular pairs erupted, "from" gardening this week, and the backup pair suddenly erupted with olive tapenade on them, all three are being laundered together in a very rare instance. And for those that oversee my laundry, and even script it down to the last loose thread, this must be an exciting moment to have three pairs of jeans in the same load. Such are the interests of my puppet masters, and to honor the occasion they have created extra road noise; heavy duty vehicles, extra buses, extended (five minutes and longer) backup beepers, and other like ructions in a nonstop cacaphony. I am wearing my yoga pants some three hours in advance of yoga, and that too is quite exciting for the shadow clowns, as it represents a disruption of the routine of changing into them some 20 minutes before yoga.

I did gardening at the First Feral Family home yesterday, and was made to be whacked out from the heat (31C), and ended it by 1330h for a city bus freakshow ride into downtown. I also got demotivated to finish the blog I had started. The most curious event was having a six yellow firetruck salute when walking back from the bus stop. The next door residential tower had six Victoria Fire Department trucks around it on two sides and parked in each direction on each side. I will load up the pictures later. The fire department dudes did a flash exit from the building, but no flash mob dancing unfortuneately. That is still too excessive for my perp puppet masters, though they have been quite outrageous and blatant in many other gangstalking stunts and public arrangements.

I was finally allowed to get my goat milk last night at the supermarket, no more closure stunts like the night before. But I got skunked on finding baking soda, even if I looked in the baking and cleaning sections of the store. Perhaps it is not "up market" enough for the store, or more like, since it was a new item to find, I haven't been assigned enough "maze time" to go wandering around looking for it. Nearly every new item that I need gets this treatment of being unfindable for the first few attempts before they let me in on where it is, often next to where I was looking in the first place. But as the perps can now dither individual objects from one's vision cognition, it is impossible for them to not fuck with what I am seeing to then force more supermarket search time, gangstalkers and props planted at each location of course. Last night they went heavy on the male skinheads, and even had them covering me some 60' before I got in the store, then leading ahead and "happening" to enter the store in advance, and then reprising for more stalkings in the aisles. The "pop out" from the aisle ends is one of their favorite jerkarounds to get these unsightly assholes, aka the Unfavored, in closer to lessen the distance dependent recognition and threat assessment.

And now the sirens are coming on, a full set it seems. Last night, at least one of the fire trucks departed with its sirens going, as if it were on another call and happening to leave from the above mentioned block party.

And plenty of awake time in the night to go with the heat of this apartment, even if it is E. facing. Yesterday morning when setting the temperature of the shower, I leaned my hand on the adjacent tile wall, and it was exceedingly warm. Given that the bathroom is not exposed to the sunlight in this apartment at any time of the day, it is quite amazing that the wall was so warm, and I suppose it was one method of keeping this place hot no matter how many windows are open and the fan running. I just gets magically hot, as to do I, with the imposed Pseudosweats coming on this morning; at least three extra forehead towellings, and likewise for my forearms.

Back to sleep lapses while seated at this PC; been there, done that, and it still isn't enough for my tormentors who have extended this game into the clinical realm with their anemic hemoglobin test results, and now stool samples. They have barely started on this one if past is prolog.

And a change up in the disability housing system; no waiting, they call you which can be problematic when it is not expected as there are other events planned for later today. Funny how these large entities can change their phone system overnight and foil my plans for staying in the phone answer queue for the next 30 minutes.

I am getting the restless legs jerkaround after two hours of extra amplified road traffic noise.

The above episode of restless legs was followed by a chocolate break, no tea like usual, and then a 30 minute nap before waking up for eating dinner. It just isn't good enough for the perps to change the afternoon tea break to a ginger beer break and drop the chocolate. They hound one to shut the PC down early and later eat the chocolate that normally goes with tea. Hot drinks in this sweltering heat is too much of an excuse to start the Pseudosweats again.

And the penultimate part time cleaning job at the car dealership tonight. I thought the perps would lay on extra things to clean up, but they have even backed off from their usual plastering of glass doors with mucky hand prints every night. They can't get enough senseless loitering of the office staff at closing time. The Service dude took nearly 25 minutes to get himself ready to depart by bicycle. He came back in while I was vacuuming, and I later find that he dispersed at least 10 paper punch chads on the floor. Anyhow, other loitering Fuckwits as well, but only one more evening until this gig is done.

Yesterday at the car dealership the boss man told me to talk to the blonde woman as to who was going to set the alarms, her or us. She seemed to be the only one working late, but I had never known her to have alarm setting privileges before. So I first asked her, and she said no, but S (office admin guy who I usually connect with on this topic) had alarm setting authority. As soon as she said that, indeed, S did arrive and indicate that he would be looking after setting the alarms. I found the timing to be similar to past stunts where the person being mentioned, by me or the other party with whom I am speaking, "happens" to arrive at the moment their name is mentioned. Anyhow, not a big deal, and one of those lesser stunts that amounts to "who cares?".

I had yoga earlier; no big deal except for a new old fart male who kept staring at me for whatever reason. I am the only one who sits on their mat and does warmup excercises in advance of the class starting. The rest of them line up in the chairs along the wall and loaf there with their mats in place. There was also a big 20" fan running some 2' from me, to cool the room down, and I suppose its location was highly scripted, as the fan moved the air between me and one of the regulars whom I later inadvertently collided with when our hands were stretched out to the side. Anyhow, no big deals and the usual vagrant and freak show when walking back. Last week before yoga, they arranged for a brown flour spill to have been cleaned up for me to walk over. It was in front of a bakery, and there was still brown flour in the sidewalk cracks, and it seemed that brown flour had been spilled the width of the sidewalk and turned the corner for some 30' more to where the loading bay was. I have no idea as to how flour happened to spill on the sidewalk as they usually load from the bay directly into the building, without any reason to take the flour onto the main arterial sidewalk. But given the predilections, if not abiding need, for the perps to present gangstalker with bread, bread staged at building corners and the rest of their breadstalking games, I suppose this flower spill stunt is all part of the same objective.

And I got my hair cut later today, in the afternoon. The stylist, a male, has two armfuls of major tattoos, and I was obliged to avert my gaze from viewing them, even if my glasses were off. And lo, if on the way back there was a woman sitting at the corner with major tattoos on her arms for me to see. I have no idea as to why the perps keep hounding me with tattoos, but it is fucking tiresome because I cannot stand the sight of them.

More forced yawnings, and new blobs of faux sweat on my eyeglasses. This swealtering heat has served the perps as an excuse for many things, but the absurd Pseudosweats at 0700h in an E. facing apartment takes the cake.

The pics from yesterday I promised above. Shown are five VFD fire trucks, and a sixth one is just out of sight, past the edge of the residential tower. This was my yellow "honor guard" when I came back from the bus. Also, is that five red vehicles of eleven on the street on the left? One can get a better feel for the vehicle arrangements on the next picture below. I had a four Saanich Fire Department "honor guard" earlier on the city bus dtrip before I came across this one. They have deep red colored firetrucks.

Two identical red color vehicles on the street on the left with a black one between them. This picture gives an idea of the "entrances and exits" that are in constant flux around me; the white with yellow livery van turning into the show, an additonal red vehicle on the street in the foreground, aluminum clad trailers (matching the firetruck's aluminum ladders) etc.

Then the firemen come out and do some kind of clustering, short of flash mobbing though. They spent some five minutes in these various clusters and walking from one to the other, and then they dispersed in their vehicles. I wonder how impressed they were to be on this scripted goose chase. And the ubiquitous "ladder patrol", aluminum metal ladders on the white van in the foreground, right side.

Anyhow, enough excitement and onto strange arrangements this weekend. My out-of-town brother and familar are arriving on this long hot August weekend, and so it remains to see where I fit in with the much contrived and scripted goings on. As always, my "condition" is always avoided as a topic. I guess they don't want to look that stupid, playing pretend for over seven years, when they knew about this insane covert life fucking back some 40 years ago is my guess, 1965 or so when I got sent off on Saturday nature hikes and my brothers stayed at home.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Shut the Supermarket Down

The assholes have been prematurely souring the mik, and just the evening I wanted to get more goat milk, why a power transformer blew and the powerline dudes were on the job along with the huge cable drums nearby. This shut down the supermarket for the rest of the evening, and hopefully didn't cause any other damage with the hot weather and their need for cooling or freezing food. And it is hot, but as always, this is exploited to as the deemed "cause" of profuse sweating even at 0900h this morning. Same for the car dealership cleaning job; I was drenched in sweat and the big deal for the perps seemed to be about me moping my face with the paper towels. Not to mention having sweat beads doing laterals and flying off me to be on the surface I am about to clean.

Other prior excitement for the assholes was to have me begin the first stool samples, and all the fuckery that attended it. I will spare the details, but the big plan to drain the toilet in advance didn't work, as the testing calls for the sample to not be under water. Well too bad, as it didnt' work out that way, and I am sure that is exactly how the perps wanted it. Only two more crappings to go, and if this week is like any other, I only shit twice a week; on Mondays (yesterday) and either the day before or after (today). That is usually it for the week and I never feel backed up or constipated, and I suspect the perps scoop it out by some teleportation means as a number of septic service tankers "erupt" (drive by, turn the corner) in my proximity when I am outside in public.

Other fuckery was keeping me awake for 1.5 hours last night head flipping in bed. An obnoxious outside noise would erupt, I would plug my ears, and then be forced to turn on my opposite side immediately following. This test/harassment protocol was so consistent that it was beyond any happenchance, and occured at least 50 times before I was allowed to sleep. There was some disruptive dreams in the morning, but I wasn't allowed any specific recall.

Some pics for some diversion.

Today, 07-28-2009, 0900h, soaked through the shirt from the Pseudosweats. Yes, this is an E. facing apartment with direct sun but is just not that hot then. Later at 1000h, the streets were pleasantly cooler due to a breeze that "somehow" didn't enter this 6th floor apartment when there should of been greater breezes at that elevation. And I left the sliding glass door open some 2', and "somehow" the noise came in but not any cool air. I didn't shave yesterday, hence being prime gangstalker bait with over 3,000 gangstalking vehicles arranged while driving with my mother, and this is after breakfast but before I shower, shave and the rest of the regular bathroom routine.

More plasma/maser markings "arrive" on my jeans, but these do wash off in the laundry. If one is lucky, one can seen some light (plasma) beam or else some blackish beam (maser) come off these black markings the perps "need" to install on the victim's clothes. Presumably this gives a direct read on one's pocket contents at any given moment the fuckers decide.

The brown streaks "arrive" on the pillow cases after being laundered. A nice split section in the center and variable brightness of the streak.

And lo, if the same brown streaks don't arrive on my olive green shirt from from laundering to render it unwearable by my standards. It wasn't enough to suck the dye out in some places over a year ago and add a slight brown tinge to it, shown in past photos on this blog. No sir, one is NOT ALLOWED TWO SHIRTS THE SAME or SIMILAR COLOR, therefore this olive/sage green shirt had to go, with the top most picture above showing the permitted sage green shirt, soaked as it is.

Other action today was taking the car cleaning items I purchased from the car dealership yesterday to my mother's place. The yellow plastic bag was just so exciting for the perps, putting on extra yellow dressed gangstalkers and gangstalking vehicles. Just wait, as the wax, wheel cleaner and interior cleaner are all differing colors (white, purple, amber respectively), and once I clean the car I will become serious color bait for the perps based on past experiences. I had the usual gangstalking Fuckwit standing behind me while making the purchase, the open mouthed dude with the two tone black/grey ballcap and the red hair. (The latter being especially loathed as an Unfavored hair color). Today, at her behest, I tried out my mother's just acquired dandelion corer, yellow painted steel.

The outbound bus trip was relatively calm; only four Fuckwits "with me" at the bus stop, and only three boarded. Later on the bus trip, three Asians of differing ages were clustered together but seemed to be acting independently as they all took their own seats around me. Then after some 10 minutes, they all got off together, still putting on the independent act. Fucking bizarre.

The return inbound bus trip was a zoo. I got screwed out of taking the bus I wanted as it was two minutes early, and then the alternate one on the other side of the road was three minutes late, stretching my wait time in the shade of an adjacent tree from the expected 7 minutes to 12 minutes. The city bus freakshow started in earnest with a green headscarfed woman on board, and any kind of head adornments that hide one's head or face are decidedly Unfavored. Now, was she wearing a rather un-summer-like dark green headscarf because I was under a green tree while waiting, or was it because I had a fresh green zucchini in my back pack? Who knows, as there were plenty of green color gangstalking vehicles while enduring the extra wait in the sweltering heat.

More silliness on the city bus freakshow was a woman with a two-wide stroller with two children in them, one of whom pulled on a seat prematurely while the stroller was in motion and the mother totally spaced out (on purpose I suspect), and the child was dumped out onto the floor of the bus to great wails and grief. Yessir, we have done this one before where they even bring the wailing child closer to me for whatever reason. By missing the first bus, it was some six minutes ahead of the bus I was on once they reached the same arterial street, (Shelbourne for locals), but lo, if there wasn't 19 passengers waiting at the bus stop on one of the hottest days of the summer. Unbelievable for a mid weekday, but there they were. My seatmate put on the bonhomie act with the driver for one bus stop's distance, and then had me lined up to sit beside with his red pack and his red juice in a plastic pop bottle. Near the end of the journey he even ventured to drink some of the red juice that he was keeping on his lap, presumably to test the red "reading" with the juice in him to me versus the on-lap version. Then when attempting to get off, some Fuckwit who just boarded and sat down in front of me then got up so to be in my way when I was waiting in the aisle while the bus was held up at the traffic control. In other words, the Fuckwit expressly got up to stand in my way, when he had no normal need to do so. That he was on the step below me also served the perp cause, as they seem to like changing respective elevations of the Fuckwits to the victim, hence the bend over games and the partial seated lift up and then sit down stunts I get to see everywhere in public, but especially on buses. And at the bus stop I see they have also relocated the traffic control, porting the power from the the original lamp standard to a temporary one some 2' away. I believe I have covered this senseless piece of civic works, but it seems the perps wanted to have the electrical wires exposed and a 200lb chunk of steet as the temporary pole anchor. If I don't get my recall fucked I will show a picture of this nonsense in the next week or so as I work through the latest set.

I was on installation duty at my mother's place; many of the purchases for the garden were still on the dining room table so it was up to me to assemble them, install them, and even put on the training as to how easy it was to operate the new hose nozzle for instance. We shall see. The perps are still beating on their interest in water and its properties as it comes from hoses and pipes of varying colors and sizes metals and plastics, as well as through irrigation pipes and nozzle heads. This too seems to be a huge area of research interest for them, and they aren't quitting anytime soon, and seem to be sucking wind on figuring it out, whatever the fuck it his they are hounding me over.

I also did more plant pruning at my mother's place, and that brought on the neighbor's lawnmower noise, same as yesterday while there. The perps have got a total fixation anytime I do pruning, plant cutting, plant pulling, plant digging up or any kind of plant injurious activity. The noise level goes up, and that would include the ones they plant in my mouth so it is heard through my head and not my ears. The freaking motorcycle noises were increased as were commercial trucks that ordinarily don't transit the adjacent streets with such frequency. The perps also set up some rock games; one was a red and grey color that I picked out of the back of a garden bed as I was raking up the pruned branches, thinking it to be an off-round rubber ball at first. Then after I assembled the ceramic bird bath that was purchased yesterday, my mother mentioned I could put in a piece of slate in the bird bath. She virtually admitted that it "just arrived" having no idea how it recently ended up in one of her garden pots. It was Thomas Townsend Brown that worked on petrovoltaics (rock electromagnetics, or energetics), so I imagine this too is just so exciting for the perps, to lay a chunk of supplied rock in the water of the just-assembled ceramic dish bird bath, filled from the just-aquired hose nozzle. (For the honey bees to land on and a low ramp for them to drink the water). Needless to say, there isn't anything exciting in it for me, as I have been through these various events when being a houseowner for many decades. As always, the perps have their reasons, and it doesn't matter one whit if it has been done before, even decades ago.

Time to call this a wrap and get something to drink as the open kitchen window has been rendered incapable of delivering cool evening air. Just extra vehicle noise to be heard through the earmuffs.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Disruptive Sunday & Full-On Monday

It rained last night, the first in at least three weeks, and I suppose that it "happened" for the Luminara Festival was just fine by perp standards. All was not lost by one account. A often noted, they like to piss on parades, figuatively and literally, even with tragic circumstances sometimes. Not that I went, as I avoid crowds and big events, fed up with the nonstop gangstalking and parade of freaks around me. That made for a different traffic noise outside this apartment, though the usual extended brake squealing nonsense didn't stop which it would do with wet brake pads and discs. I later learned that there were concurrent significant and spectacular thunderstorms in Vancouver and the Fraser Valley. I suppose we got off easy, rain only, and no collective minor electrocutions or tree boughs crashing down as happened to some campers.

And a rare forced second nut shave in a week last night, and with plenty of extra neighbor noise to "join me" in this seeming critical perp event. This time I was given a tumescent member, presumably to change up the varying shapes and geometries and whatever else the perps get from this event. It is always interesting to see what unfolds afterwards, especially today. Not only excessive church bell noise and road traffic, but extra Pseudosweats to have me open the balcony sliding glass door to allow more air to cool the apartment down, as well as be the "reason" for excess road traffic noise getting through the earmuffs. And at breakfast, as soon as the first sip of coffee (think brown) passed between my lips and into my mouth, why, the perps jabbed me in the nuts, as if an errant hair had turned on me. Funny how it was coordinated with ingestion of a brown substance in my mouth, and also that there was any hair stubble that could somehow jab me. There wasn't any stubble whatsoever, especially with a 2x/week shave frequency.

Other action this morning for the perps was a laundry load with the perequisite linting of my shirts, vacuuming the apartment (less than a 1x/4 month event), and doing kitchen and bathroom floor cleaning of the crumb and dust bunny profusions. Other strange stuff was wiped off the wall in the bathroom, and I have no idea what it is or how it got on the wall behind the door. The 3M cleaning pads were duly prepped, I got totally mind-fucked into wetting the wrong pad an hour in advance of using it to clean the floors. It was a near normal sleep duration of nine hours, with the first hour spent in forced tossing and turning from one side of my head to the other, being pummelled by street traffic noise, and the on/off revellry noises that kept going late.

And I suppose part of the perp excitement might be sending me off to do some domestic shopping in short order; getting pillow cases and a sauce pan on sale downtown, one of my "finds" in the newspaper last night. The perps have me loathing the one saucepan I have, a teflon lined one, so no doubt that has to be dealt with on their behalf. Prediction; heavy navy blue gangstalker vehicles and clothing, with some light blue as well, all to accompany me on my outing, the same colors being that of the disposable razor I used last night. And there were extra blue dust bunnies on the carpet this morning, the "come from nowhere" games. Yesterday they put a tensioned blue thread in my had to stretch over top of the pills I take. Where it came from and why it was there is another one of those mysteries I am continually inundated with.

Back online after a stayover at the First Feral Family last night, along with a doctor's visit in the morning. I am still with a below normal hemoglobin count, 121 when 135 is the low range of normal. Apparently the last round of blood work indicated that my blood cells are fine (not damaged as in hemotosis), and that I don't have mononucleosis. Ergo, more testing, this time stool samples, urine samples and perhaps even a blood test too at the time. I have been through this once before, back before the assholes went overt on me in 2002, and the entire process of stool samples nearly made me barf. Or more like, that was my assigned "reaction" at the time. And no less, three rounds of it this time. I already told the doctor there is no blood in my stool, after he asked twice, but he riffed on about the body "adapting" and so I am off to do this odious activity this week. And to pack the result back to the lab no less, assuming I get to take three shits this week, not always a given. And if the result is positive, blood in the stool, why, they get to do extra exploration work. I am now allowed to see where this one is going.

As the first apartment invaders in the 04-15-2002 plasma and sound blitz made plain, shit, and all things brown, is of intense and abiding interest, and seven years later, they are still at it. Only a few months before that event, my then girlfriend Ms. L and my out-of-town brother, both had colonoscopies, independently it seemed. For the record, the apartment invaders put a balloon down my toilet by flushing and having it get sucked in at the same time. A few days later, I had to get a plumber's snake to clear it, which I did. So I wasn't imagining things at all that day, even if I seemed to be an alternate state, (why would I let anyone vandalize my place, including my toilet, and just watch them do it?). The shit battles started early, and the perps made sure I knew all about it, and even today, they backed the toilet up to require a plunger and then plastered shit on the plunger. They can't get enough of the shit on butyl rubber games it seems, and it is a resumption of what they usually do. The flush-only respite of the past four weeks must be officially over.

The same emancipated male weird (gangstalker IMHO) at the doctor's waiting room last Monday was there again today. My appointment time was identical, and the weird was in the waiting room when I arrived, and was still there when I departed. Same thing as last week. He was the only other patient, so why hadn't they moved him in before I left, something they ususally do to minimize the doctor's transition time between patients.

And the perps even put on a little show for me, while driving on the way back; they tore apart a camper on the back of a pickup in midstreet and had the sheathing, insulation, wall panels and substantive contents strewn over the street and sidewalk, and all the stored items as well. The assigned operative (I assume) on picking up duty made sure to pick up a comforter stored in its original transparent vinyl packaging in mid street as I was going by. (I "happened" to be looking at sheets and pillowcases in the same packaging yesterday in a department store). There were many personal items strewn all over the two lanes, and it was unclear to me as to how the camper, on the back of a pickup, fell or tore off and was ripped asunder when there was no other colliding vehicles present. Two S. bound oncoming lanes were blocked, and the oncoming lane was re-routed to one of the two N. bound lanes. TI's and regular readers are aware of the perps' stunts in creating roadworks and road digging repair, traffic re-routing, parking emergency vehicles facing adjacent traffic, utilizing L.H. drive Japanese vehicles and other means of placing vehicles in irregular circumstances as to orientation, direction, and juxtaposition whenever I am out, even when walking. This fits the pattern.

The perps had a just-stand-there crowd arranged for me to pass by the constrained single lane, and one dude in a brown shirt made a move as if he was mentally deficient and about to grab his crotch. The perps don't miss an instant to reprise this oft-played stunt, this time with me driving and the Fuckwit dressed in mid brown colored clothing. Fucking bizarre to say the least.

And what is with the surfeit of fuckers just sitting in their parked vehicles, sometimes mothers with children? There had to be at least four such events when walking the 100m from the parking spot (no fine this time) to the doctor's office. Some were in the vehicles for the inbound and outbound trip legs (separated by 20 minutes), and others were only in their vehicle for one trip leg. This must be the latest gangstalking advent, to get more operative-in-place time before I walk by. And there are more of the "just-stand-there" gangstalkers as well, having no apparent purpose, e.g. in a residential area, but just standing on the sidewalk near the curb. And another case of asphalt sitters at a bus stop yesterday; there was no concrete sidewalk or curb, but only a wide section for the bus to pull into. There they were, seated on the street for some bizarre reason. This gambit was occuring in 2003-5 when I had my vehicle, and I hadn't seen much of it until yesterday. But as the concrete redi-mix truck gangstalking has increased of late, I suspect the perps are on a revitalized initiative to "figure out" (however they do it) the interactions (mine and the gangstalkers) with concrete and asphalt, right down to the geographic sources of the constituent sand, gravel, cement, stones and tar.

And as it was a Monday, with a stayover and being in my mother's company for half the day, there was huge, over 3,000 vehicle gangstalking on the highway portions that we drove; for a mid-Monday afternoon I have never seen so much road traffic, not to mention of the arrangements of tight mobile vehicle formations and color and size coordinated vehicles. We spent some 40 minutes at a specialty gardening and hardware store, which started out with few (~10) gangstalkers and gradually built up over our shopping stay (~60), and then a flush of some 15 other customers coming toward me as soon as we went to the checkout line. The lastest favorite gangstalker arrangement is to bring young children with their parents, usually girls, and have them play about, being extra active, even acting like boys of their age, but not disruptively. I noticed they even parked a young girl under my elbow at the counter; why she would want to place her face 2" from the vertical face of the counter and park herself so close to a stranger is most curious, but that goes with the show, the ongoing and relentless life-rape that desecrates my existence.

Other action that was doubtless arranged today was for me to take my two teflon kitchen utensils, a frypan and a saucepan to the local charity on this same city block, as I had a (planted) notion to get rid of them that had begun a few weeks ago. Most curious, as I rarely use them given the monotonous cuisine and purchase of store cooked chicken meat. But as I replaced these two items with stainless steel utensils, both with thick heat dispersing copper bottoms on them, I suspect the perps have some cuisine variations planned for me this winter. But as they ripped the handle off my large copper based frypan in early 2007 (used 2x/day), rendering it unusable and to be replaced by an thick aluminum based frypan, it would seem that the perps are resuming where they left off. These new copper based pans are replacing ones that were rarely used, so I suspect this will be an incremental copper based utensil usage scenario, perhaps 1x per week at first, and then building up for regular use, and even possibley going so far as to be able to remotely compare the digestion of food cooked in the aluminum based frypan to that of the copper based frypan, the latter aquisition being more suited for stir frying. (Where did that notion come from?). And it did not escape my notice that there were extra copper colored vehicles on gangstalking duty today, in their usual configuration with preceding deep metallic red colored vehicles, at least one being a Favored Porche Carrera.

The perps are also varying the color of the above mentioned copper colored gangstalk vehicles; some are a more orange copper color (fugly), and some are a more gold-copper color (attractive on an pre-2002 Volvo 850 wagon, before they jellybeaned the angular look).

Other color games that might be supporting the copper color games are that of placing orange shirted ambulatory gangstalkers walking the sidewalk as I am driving, they nearly always being on the right side for me to view them in my peripherial vison for longer. I like orange colored clothes less than I thought after this minor ramp-up today, but no doubt the assholes will be putting more of it in my face over the next few months, especially as it is a summer color.

Other notable fugly Unfavored action today was to have three women gangstalkers all sporting substantial full-arm tatoos, one after the other. First there was the checkout cashier, a candidate for the least likely to wear a tatoo with them all over her forearms. (Maybe they are faked temporary ones, as I never look at them once noted). Then once I escaped that, the next view on my way out of the supermarket was the flower section cashier bathed in light from an window above, some 15' away with full arm tatoos, and once I escaped that, why, a woman transiting through the outside parking lot and crossing my path, also with full arm tatoos. Fugly, and Unfavored if you follow that there are certain things I don't care to see, and and which my subconscious is aware of as well as the adversarial assholes who plant this bullshit on me. If I don't like tattoos on anyone, of any color of gender, then why in the fuck do I have a mega-billion dollar relentless campaign around me in public to present these in my view? It is as fucking bizarre as it is insane, and I am talking about my tormentor assholes, who have been on this deranged schtick for over seven years now.

Enough invective heaped upon the tribulations of being a TI, and onto bedtime, and to ponder how long the assholes will keep me awake for on the every popular Monday Sleep Fucking.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Three PC Lockups

The assholes have gone beserk in foiling me in looking up someone on the phone book website, Canada411. The fuckers froze up the Cut/Paste of name and location, twice, then fucked it again with no mouse control, and after the third reboot, the assholes let me run the search and it came up blank. This of a person who has publically posted their phone numbers on the internet, and all I wanted to do was to determine the most recent one. Fucking idiotic that I am not allowed to do a web search after being set up with a multiple phone number "problem" in the first place.

The lockups (above) were to get me "tuned up" (enraged) for the next exercise, which was to look up a number of subsidized housing locations on Google Map, the addresses from a supplied list. There is a reason they make it more difficult and don't have a map link and photo of the building, and that is to piss me off and put me through the exercise manually, and all the while, put on the overhead pounding and squeaking so I can hear it through my earmuffs when I launch the address search.

And too, putting me through the ropes of not being able to create a login id, as that feature "happened" to be missing from the login page. On and on this insane abuse goes, all to play fucking games over every dot, comma, partial crafted handwritten alphabetic character, tab command, keyboard stroke, mouse move and the rest of the minutae that makes up one's life.

The part time car dealership cleaning job was on the light side tonight, partially because of a mid-afternoon shutdown of the Parts and Service areas, the ones I clean first. I didn't see much sign of the mechanics leavings in the lunch room even. Anyhow, the Sales staff seems to have a group lunch each Saturday, and as part of the cleanup we get the remnant food items. A quesadilla and yam chips in a black styrofoam container was my score, and it was odd that the boss man didn't want any. I hadn't seen black styrofoam until then, so I imagine is it another new experiment. They had at least four parties and 12 gangstalkers around me when I returned to the apartment lobby with the food booty and a newspaper I took from the recycle garbage. For the walk home with these items the perps saw fit to place two parallel and vertical streaks of "sweat" on the inside of my left eyeglass lens. The Saturday paper has the best jobs listed in it, but as you might discern from past blog postings, I am getting rather jaded by the seeming "job bait" and not even getting an email. Just about every business in a one block radius has advertised at least once for personnel, so it does make me wonder if the job listings aren't some kind of memory jog for the perps' sick games. They like gangstalkers and quislings to do name dropping, so placing ficticious ads in the newspaper for the same objective is not a big stretch for them. And last year's daffodil farm hasn't replied to my email per job listing, the second such occurence in two months, so I wonder if they are going to be real employers or not come August 01 when the car dealership job ends. It will be a two week hiatus between jobs, and that kind of forced break is what the perps do often. They don't like me to start a job and stay in it, as is doesn't offer enough fuckery opportunities, that level of consistency. I still get the planted oildfield job fantasy bullshit, more now than ever, and if there was a difficult job type to break into, that would be it. Besides, they don't like me to earn much money, keeping me in hock is has been the perps' style for over six years now.

Though the sickos did drop a hint that their brown color problem is also wrapped up in their interest in petroleum products. The reason is that crude petroleum (they told me, and I was reminded that this was true) has an element of brown color, and therefore, separating out the brown color of petroleum products (gasoline, asphalt, heating oil, engine oil etc.) from brown colored substances inside the human body is extremely problematic. Which might be why I am getting brown plasma beams from asphalt oil splats shooting at my face when traversing crosswalks.Too bad, it isn't my problem and yet some assholes didn't ask me about getting involved in it by way of relentless abuse. No toilet blockings for the past three weeks might even mark a positive trend with the perps' shit/brown games.

And what is with the police state being so obvious, this story about a private fuel cell researcher, Krister Evertson, of Alaska and Idaho. Any police outfit that is tailing and monitoring him has way too much time on their hands, even if they only went after him once. But that wasn't the case, they pursued him twice, the latter time in Idaho and tried to make a federal case out of re-definining the word "abandon" to mean "intentionally stored". Soon, us TI's talking about the police state will be passe if the police/military are busy taking out innocent citizens with (legal) hobbies they take a disliking to. Anyhow, TI's don't need an education in the powers of the shadow police state, they eat and breathe it every day, all day. A free ringside seat to the inanity of nonconsensual human experimentation.

The imposed restless legs again; more like leg torquing though, as well as lifting the toe of my foot and leaving the heel on the floor. A most loathed torture this accelerating limb movement unbidden by me.

And now I get to overhear party-like revellry and banter as if coming from a balcony of a nearby apartment. Funny how the sound gets louder; about 40 min. ago I closed the open window and put on the earmuffs and that was the end of the noise. Now, someone has ramped it up, and no hearing protection can abate the noises the assholes want me to hear.

Overhead pounding is continuing, that being the 12" of ceiling/floor above me, and somehow negating the carpeted floors in the process. I hear the sound of wet tires on pavement outside, the threatening dark clouds did deliver rain it seems, the first in three weeks. Hard to imagine it isn't connected with the recent rounds of noise and and now overhead thumpings, but I am never sure as to why it all decends at once.

Anyhow, I am getting the restless legs bullshit and am calling this one done.

Friday, July 24, 2009

Totally Slack

Not even enough get up and go to start blogging until now. The time just slips away in this Potemkin Bubble, and the perps make sure I don't notice and don't mind. And they like to keep me in as a shut-in until 1715h when I head to the part time cleaning job at the car dealerhip. I haven't figured out what is so important for their shut-in games, but hopefully August will be nonstop employment if the daffodil bulb picking comes to fruition late next week. Most people have summer holidays but I have summer work with the rest of the year off. That is how it goes in this kept state, one cannot be sure of anything, let alone perp methods and their fanatasical refrains.

I did my cleaning job at the car dealership tonight; nothing too outrageous, only the odd crumb flipping onto the just-cleaned surface, water droplets doing 24" laterals, and yellow plasma strobes on the inside of my left eyeglass lens whenever I entered the Parts section. The latter has been consistent for some months and I don't know what they expect to attain from that nonsense. We are now down to the last week of the job before a staff member is going to take over. I haven't figured out this car dealership in terms of their hiring; they are advertising for a car washer but at the same time are laying off us part time cleaners to give to an on-staff person. A new tubby Salesman started this week, seeming to replace the French Canadian dude who kept running up my ass, sometimes three differing locations inside of two minutes, hanging around worse than a fart in a sleeping bag. As far as I could tell they had a young woman cleaning vehicles, or at least until last week. The entire communication goings at this car dealership are strange to say the least, exemplified by the time I applied for a posted car jockey/tire person job there in late May, and no one said anything to me, and they seemed to give it to someone else. The same someone who was on last years' farmworker crew who kept hanging around me for no apparent reason. Fucking bizarre to say the least. And lo, if they had hired me, they would of had an experienced cleaner and instead will be faced with training issues. Anyhow, I have given up on anyone or organization making any sense while they are obviously complicit in this ongoing life rape, and even put on the buggy eyed look to convey that they aren't exactly willing participants. Big joke that, plus all the stressed looking individuals who also participate in this sham of playing horror struck about being involved. I had plenty of those looks in the pre-overt days prior to 04-2002, but I don't buy it now, as everything is so highly managed since then.

I got my color coordinated Fuckwits at the grocery store on the way back from the car dealership. I have been imbued with a mighty hankering for blueberries, and only the freshest will do, and not frozen ones at anytime. So...., there are plenty of sources in this locale, and they had local ones, not from the Fraser Valley this time as in the past. I never did get to pick blueberries in my berry picking efforts as they kept me on raspberries or like fruits such as tayberries and marionberries. And lo, if a brown dressed woman didn't precede me to the blueberries and loiter there, and I went elsewhere but got skunked by the assholes as there was only one tortilla package left and I wanted two. Anyhow, the woman was still there, and upon my arrival she takes off with a half full quart tray. I attempt to pick up a tray but instead get to have a whole quart of blueberries tumble out. So I select another tray that was level and go to the checkout, only to have the brown clothed woman ahead of me with her half filled quart tray of blueberries. Ahead of her, and placed behind her was a man in a light blue dress shirt and doing some kind of stooped shoulder pose along with his straggly white beard. Later I was allowed to know that the chocolate in my basket, in addition to the blueberries, was a seeming color emulation; mid brown substance in a light blue packaging, much like the two gangstalkers ahead of me, the male taking his sweet time to get going, likely to extend the pose time, a blue shirt behind a brown clothed woman.

More vapid slackness; though gainfully reading blogs that I regularly visit. The theme seems to be tits (Apostate, Wide Lawns, cleavage power), as in female anatomy for two sites of the 20 I look through. Funny how breast reduction surgery was a topic of some discussion with Ms. C of the story, though it never came to fruition by the time the Border Patrol stopped me visiting the USA. For all her vaunted "feelings" about me, she never visited; just another bullshit artist along the way it seems, and even getting "caught out" (as it appeared then) to ensure her loyalties weren't with me. Strange that entire year of 2002 and all the comings and goings as well as being terrorized from plasmic/EM weapons in my hotel room as well in the streets of Seattle. I was hounded out of my apartment for many nights, and took a hotel for instant relief one night. The next hotel night they were all over me with strange beams coursing the room, and they always knew where I was in the room. One night I got sleep in the steel bathtub in the bathroom. After that, they were ready and prevented any kind of safe harbor from their beam and head pain weapons.

So maybe dullness isn't all that bad, but what is bad is that I am kept and targetted all the time, and mind invaded to the level of not knowing where the thoughts really came from. I still get jerked around with forced "misreadings", typo sabotage and the rest of the litany of abuse they dish out hundreds of times per day. My future is not my chosing, and I have no idea as to what is in the script, next minute, month or year. Meanwhile, all the players seem to know, and are even practiced should any substantive discussion arise. It is fucking tiresome, and worse yet being among this noise barrage and the butt of all this unwanted attention. Even the LCD panel as I type this is breaking out into regions of striations of light and shadow, often adjacent to where I am reading. Which tells me that they know where I am looking, as one example among many they revealed to me in the heady high abuse days of 2002. They will even stop a knife with a force field should I aim it at my wrist, a stunt that has all the markings of being totally arranged given the simultaneous noises, plasma flare exposures and other events. Even trying to escape is a pre-arranged event for crissakes, as well as the feelings of being totally bleak about this immersion into the perps' institutional insanity they feel I should be in, without asking of course.

Time to call this done; the leg torquing torture has started up, and they make sure I cannot stand it.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Dreams of Being Awake

A disrupted sleep last night, ending with dreams of being awake when I was asleep. Confused?. Me too, except to say that it was a blend, as sometimes I was awake so to be availible to hear some noises that were arranged. Then, they pulled another stunt, having me "forget" their extended erection games, after a week's hiatus when doing this nearly every night over the past five years. I surely did remember, as soon as they let me, this regular feature of a light REM sleep before waking up. I am sure they also do this when I am in a deep sleep too, as deep sleep to light sleep mapping (noise, repeat themes, and erections) is of importance to them. Anyhow, I was glad my sleep was over, though I suspect they have a more elaborate name for sleep, as the perps have been known to run me for three days without any and without feeling tired. As before, I never had such disrupted sleep until the assholes went overt on me in 04-2002.

A Thursday, and a yoga day, and more improvements to my strength and capability were evident. No one but me knew that doing the plank was such a battle with muscle control to resist my own weight and hold the position. The more I worked on it, the better I got, but the exercise (2x/week) and yoga class (1x/week) weren't consistent enough for me to become proficient. As mentioned in previous postings of the last two months, I suddenly became very proficient at it, and it wasn't nearly the struggle it always had been. And today, I was positively revelling in being able to do the plank, even 2" off the mat and holding it there. I had not taxed my limits, and wanted more. So.... if no one else but me knew how much of a struggle certain exercises are, how did I end up so improved (with minimal exercise) to be so muscularly proficient (i.e., no problem, able for much more)? This would not be the first time that unexpected physical changes have become permanent, but it represents one of the most intrinsic (arm, abdomen and back muscles) that has changed, and as far as I knew, I thought the rest of the world was more exercised than me, hence their relative ease of proficiency. Now, it seems that I had a strength adverse physicality/musculature all through my life, and the assholes who created the problem also knew about it, and seemed to have now fixed some of it. Other improvements over the past six years have been a new walking gait, removal of my sway back, also straightening out my spine and neck, and looking 10 years younger. And the latest additional "improvement", albeit after maintaining me as overweight, has been for me to be at least 5 lb. lighter, evident in narrower legs, less of a gut and smaller chest. I reduced my lunch and dinner intake by half since 2007, and now it's effect has finally been allowed to change my physique. More like, someone keeps me at a certain weight and look no matter how much or little I eat.

I have a whole host of links and me bantering about them, so I can clean out my saved bookmarks, and satisfy the perps' abidding need for me to put links in this blog. Dilbert's Creator's Struggle to Regain His Voice; the interesting story of Scott Adams and his struggle with what is called spasmodic dysphonia. It has all the hallmarks of perp created speech impairments as they constantly impair my speech and change what I intend to say into something a little different (but not a lot different like in the case of spasmodic dysphonia). The interesting thing is that there seems to be a neural connection in the basal ganglia that has gone awry;

"When you have spasmodic dysphonia, you're in voice jail," says Robert Bastian, a otolaryngologist who's been working with SD patients for more than 20 years.

The problem is widely believed to begin in the basal ganglia, the part of the brain that controls motor function. For reasons still unknown, the conversation between the brain and the vocal folds becomes garbled, causing the folds to either involuntarily clamp down (adductor spasmodic dysphonia, which Adams has) or open up (abductor spasmodic dysphonia, which is even more rare). It's now thought that some people are genetically disposed to the disorder, though nobody knows how or why it's initially triggered.

All I am saying here is that this condition would be of vital interest to the perps; I have no way of knowing if they were the instignators of this condition, but it would be of extreme interest as they constantly want to separate the meaning of what is said from the very words that give the meaning. Anyhow, I am glad he is better, near cured it seems. An interesting read if nothing else.

Another broad hint of perps doings is this piece; Simple Tea Creates Nano Gold Particles. Not quite; adding gold salts with the tea causes a unknown nano-reaction with phytochemicals where nano gold particles precipitate with no known byproducts. I don't (knowingly) have gold salts with my tea, just water and the infused tea leaves, but as the perps find tea making and drinking to be so fascinating, there must be some uncontrolled nano-level phyto-reactions going on that they cannot yet figure out. They even put on a tea festival earlier this year. Interesting, and it would seem that this is another research objective they have laid on me.

A science link, and a defacto admission of an energetic ether, just not called dark matter in this case; Antimatter Positrons Explain Gamma Ray Mystery In Milky Way Galaxy. The scientists have shown (not proven) that the gamma ray bursts in the Milky Way are the result of an electron and a slowed antimatter positron interaction, but it isn't a "dark matter" that is causing this. Well excuse me, but if we have high speed positrons everwhere in the galaxy, might this be the energetic ether and not the dark matter? Just asking, as I know next to squat about cosmological physics, but I do find it interesting that a round of door slamming (noisestalking) started up as I write this, heard through my earmuffs even. I have long given up why the theoretical physicists haven't taken on the energetic ether "problem", but I do recall my high school chemistry teacher disparaging the notion of the ether (as presented in the textbook we were using) and looking highly conflicted at the same time. Another time in the class, when someone was asking about how radioactive particles "decide" to decay, the same chemistry teacher also looked rather conflicted. It was his body posture in part, as well as his eyes going a little more buggy. I suppose the perps could of had me on high alert at the time and planted the meme to remember this for decades later, as one example of this insane jerkaround having its roots going a long way back.

Healthy; I haven't figured all this content out yet and where the author, Richard Perlman, is taking this, but this is a goldmine of links about government human experimentation, some of it nonconsensual, e.g. MKULTRA, Gulf War Syndrome. I wonder if the author knows of the Indian Lake Project, photographic proof of military personnel testing children. At first I thought this was THE Richard Perlman of the Pres. Bush cabinet and architect of the Iraq war/occupation disaster, but it isn't. The author has expended much effort in researching human experimentation on account of his own dire symptoms, as well as seeming entrenched adversity as to who he could engage as a lawyer and doctor. Almost TI-like in terms of the hidden agenda and constraints. For you neuro-researchers, he has extensive information on the vagus nerve and how it might be the seat of consciousness, and a complex neuro-network in its own right. Also of interest is the author's explorations into Chinese medicine and its study of energetics transfer between nerves, especially along meridians. Much grist for the enlightened TI at this link.

A Child Disappears Under Mysterious Circumstances, The Dirk Schiller Case. Scroll down as the first page has an excess of white space. A 3.5 year old boy just disappears in the snow and was immediately behind his older sister at the time. The Stasi have an hand in this, showing up about the investigation about a misssing child. It is akin to the CIA showing up for a missing child case in the USA. Rather odd, especially when the police put incorrect information in the file and waited until the snow (and footprints) were gone before going to take pictures of the crime scene. "Perhaps the only logical explanation for the disappearance of the small boy who never left any trace, whose body was never found and... the only logical explanation for the mysterious circumstances – are those two fontanels in Dirk’s skull. Children who are born with fontanels (soft spots on the skull that have the shape and size of a dollar coin) are extremely rare – and a baby that was reported by the pediatrician as having such a rare peculiarity of nature would have made an extremely interesting research object for the ambitious East German medical research facilities who were so eager to keep up with the latest Western medical findings." It would be nothing for the sickos to teleport someone into a vehicle with an amnesiac administration to calm the child. This is one of those mysteries that TI's have a particularly different take, especially when there is a rare condition that allows a realtime skull bypass to directly (and remotely) view the neural state. Who knows, perhaps the perps/sickos whose public face is the Stasi in this case, created the fontanel condition in the first place and see themselves re-claiming one of their subjects for their own. And all the more interesting that the aggrieved mother, Mrs. Schiller, was subjected to organized stalking later in the case in W. Germany no less. Hmm, what does that tell TI's?

EPA Conspired with DuPont to Allow Teflon Chemicals in Drinking Water. You read that headline correctly, the EPA likes their subjects to take in PFOA's (perfluorooctanoic acid) through the drinking water as well as by airborne methods. And isn't it interesting the perps are constantly hounding me with teflon compounds such as Goretex, and set me up with all manner of PFOA stories like this one? As they have told me countless times, the ingestion of these various pollutants creates havoc at the submolecular/quantum level for remote sensing neural and all other bodily processes. Not my fucking problem, so why do I have these Goretex wearing Fuckwits around me all the time? In other words, the perps fucked up royally in allowing their victims to ingest these substances and so the only remedy is to have MORE subjects with these substances coursing through them in an attempt to determine all states of submolecular variability. Go figure as to how a covert agency with no limits to their capabilities could fuck this one up so bad, and since the 1930's no less when teflon compounds went into industrial production. All us TI's bear this cross on account of some insane fuckup who didn't figure this one out in advance. And what does one TI allude to on the forums, "we must be patient"? Patience my ass; we must be virulent that we are in these experiments for decades longer than needed because a Supreme Fuckwit allowed the remotely sensed results determination to be confounded by pollutants, of which PFOA is one of at least ten by my count. And we must find out who this Fuckwit is and apply appropriate measures in return.

On the macabre front, the perps are still doing brown color testing on subjects (brown in this case) and having them expire in brown substances other than shit. This man died in a vat of chocolate, seemingly getting whacked on the head on the way in. All my own interpretation of course, but having spent the past seven years wrangling with a covert agency over all things colored brown, including my brown garments getting accelerated wear, and a 3x/day chocolate "addiction" of never-before proportions, I am profoundly cynical as to what is really going on in the world. This story fits the pattern is all I will say.

Back from the part time car dealership cleaning job tonight, only one more week to go before the gig is done. The boss man is plying me with plenty of tales about other cleaning jobs, part time, full time, supervisory and on and on. I think we have been here before on this topic (to no avail).

Getting late for me and now running into some heavy typo sabotage.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Bald Negro Female

Two top Unfavoreds rolled into one; bald, negro. But female, most curious; this being a gangstalker on view as I was getting jerked around to find a shopping basket. Only a minute before that, outside the store, was a shiftless male negro who seemed to lack much to do. Then the vagrant arch, one each side and on the bum, for me to pass through before getting to the supermarket entrance door.

This is the second bald negro female I have encountered in the past 8 months; the last one was at the LD store next door to the supermarket. Perhaps these particular Unfavored demographic group members are to serve as a comparator to the male bald negroes the sickos like to arrange around me. As to why, I don't know for sure, and have no recollection of any interaction with any negroes. I see in the Indian Lake Project, that they liked to put multi-racial children together in cages, so perhaps this might be the reason for the subconscious trigger the sickos are attempting to stimulate. This is still speculation, as I haven't confirmed that I was there, though the faux military men nonsense, (see yesterday's blog posting), suggests there is such a traumatization component.

This was the second visitation to the supermarket today, an earlier Chicken Run to acquire hot cooked chicken. They were all over me for that with at least five swarmings and obstructions in 150'. They had a moving stunt at the front door where the couch got stuck and the mover on the outside walked away for some curious reason. I was just out the door when two fuckers converged on me before getting to the sidewalk. Then a motorized wheelchair holding up the sidewalk while someone else came at me with a vagrant on my tail. Then at the W. entrance to the store, three fat ladies converging two with similar black and white tops with a swirling pattern, only differing by the scale of the swirls. The other one had vile tattoos to show me. Then another swarmer on me at the hot chicken counter, and then I decided to get the fuck out of there, enough. Another swarm on my exit, three assholes converging on me with the purchased hot cooked chicken, one in carmine red. Then another two swarms, each with an orange wearing dweebe, and finally I was allowed in the elevator back to this apartment. And lo, if there wasn't some orange sauce with the chicken. Never have I had so many swarms in close succession before, though more close-in intrusion seems to be increasing of late.

Before that, an upgrade/jerkaround with Firefox browser, and making out that the vital add-on called Adblock Plus was unavailible. Later, post chicken consumption, straight off the carcass, I was allowed to upgrade Adblock Plus, one of the most essential browser extensions one could have.

In the morning while the laundry was running, I did a clean up of the bathroom. Extra navy blue lint was getting added to the surfaces after I cleaned them, all to infuriate me as to their sabotage. Here I am cleaning up their fucking messes, and then they add more while I am cleaning. The navy blue lint nonsense has been getting more prevalent of late; lint on me when I exit the shower, lint on the floor from nowhere, and now dynamic sabotage by adding it to just-cleaned surfaces. Back in the pre-overt years of 1999 and 2000 I kept getting navy blue lint in my bathroom when there was no such carpet color or known source. I could never figure it out; if you had told me then that a multi-billion dollar budgeted covert harassment agency was planting lint in my bathroom I would of said you were crazy. Well here we are, the lint fuckery has come back, in the same color no less, and is even applied as sabotage while cleaning. That I sleep on a navy blue futon might have something to do with it now, but not then.

I was even allowed to do some filing of my papers this morning, an activity the perps find no end of interest in. Using a Sharpie pen is also a big deal for them, as well as amalgamating papers from differing sources into one file folder, so it can be archived as one. This little project has been planned for at least four months, and I was finally allowed to get on with it. Only two days ago I got the file boxes to then serve as the repository. And I don't need to tell regular readers how much the perps like to have me with brown cardboard in my proximity. They will even arrange brown cardboard packing gangstalkers to "happen by" when I am outside. The part time cleaning job at the car dealership is also a big deal for the perps as there is no end of cardboard wrapped car parts, some 8' long and 4' wide, a huge expanse of brown cardboard they don't ordinarily get to place around me in any other scenarios.

This might be all tonight; I am getting the restless legs bullshit again, so time to log off for now.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Resume Tapping and Rumbling

These are the two predominant noise games in progress as I write this; the percussive sound of construction (with hammers, no air nailers) from no apparent source in the vicinity, and the equally improbable rumbling noise from overhead, as if a 10 ton safe with squeaky wheels was being shifted back and forth, and it has the heft to cause the 12" floor/ceiling to shake as well. That is the nature of the harassment of late, more improbable activities and combinations thereof.

My big outing earlier was to get my leather belt augmented with two more holes as it seems my pants are falling down easier. I have not yet determined if it is due to actual loss of girth or some belt stretching games. And when one's entire cognitive and recall aparatus is highjacked near permanently, one cannot be sure of anything anymore.

Then onto pay my parking fine, a $30 one I was fucked with yesterday, and then onto the opticians to get more lens cleaning solution, in anticipation of returning to my manual labor of last year, daffodil bulb picking. Just when I thought the daffodil farm was with me as they never answered my resume submissions, they are default choice out of necessity to get some cash reserves to pay for my possible PC upgrades in the fall and then the inevitable income tax that seems to accrue faster than it is deducted, my usual year end fate of being hit for some $500 or so.

Along the route of my errands I passed many strange Fuckwits and Weirds, but at the penultimate intersection was a strange dude in a black and red track outfit leaning on the adjacent pole. I go the opticians to see the ever delectable blonde woman, who is also classily dressed in predominantly black with some red splashes in the fabric. Once done there, onto the street again back to my place, and at the next intersection, why the black and red dressed dude "happens" to be there, essentially tailing me at the prior and post intersections to the optician visitation. I suppose the perps are working on why such colors are OK on a blonde woman but are a decided threat (weirdness detection) on some loafing Fuckwit. Not my problem as to who I like and don't, so why is it the biggest chase scene in this city's history, possibly any city? Never mind the mind fuck games and the rest of the abuse.

As always, there is no answer but more frantic tapping as mentioned above. The tapping noise is decidedly in sync with the overhead rumbling/squeaking and any unbidden thoughts that seem to be still uncontrolled. The assholes are still hounding me over my attention shifting, still a unfucked brainstem area neural process that they cannot yet totally mess with. Lucky me, as if luck were in fact a coincidence, something I have never had the pleasure of, living in this controlled Potemkin Village bubble.

Another red meat dinner, and more male Fuckwits at the car dealership cleaning job crawling up my asshole, the "new improved" gangstalking. One was behind me when cleaning th door glass to Service as the punch card clock was adjacent, then three mechanics put on a show at a vehicle, crimping access to the garbage room. They later started up the air wrench noise for over 15 minutes, all the more absurd given that it was only one vehicle they were working on, and the wheels didn't seem to have anything to do with the engine area they were huddled over. And just before cleaning the mechanic's washroom, why they were all over it. Then onto cleaning the water cooler garbage and one fucker was standing over me while I attended to that, and another, the tubby Sales Dude was 5' away in the hallway where the keyboard is, and then after placing my tote near the phone, why, another mechanic "happened" to be on the phone and standing over it before I could retrieve it.

On the way to the car dealership cleaning job, when turning the corner for a short block (90 degree turn), the assholes arranged a police vehicle to be parked on the wrong side of the road, emergency lights flashing. This isn't the first time police vehicles have been used to plant vehicles in odd juxtapositions, usually facing the wrong direction, sometimes on a one way street. A policewoman was standing over a baby in a car seat that was placed on the ground, and talking to a male vagrant act. I couldn't figure this one out at all, except it was a grand excuse to put a baby into the gangstalking mix and keeping it in one place as opposed to strollers and backpacks. Another WTF moment. Then when passing the same location on the way back after the cleaning job, they placed a left-hand drive vehicle opposite the location of the reverse placed police vehicle of my outbound journey leg.

At the car dealership Service garage where there are five sevice bays, they packed in some 12 vehicles in an obstacle course to constrict egress from there to the garbage room, where I make at least six return trips in the course of an hour. The one 2' wide location where I could get through was between a white and red vehicle, and lo, if they didn't have various configurations of soil covering the narrow constriction. They had a circle of soil, and then some scuffings, presumably for some kind of soil-victim (me) interaction they were looking for. This is at least the 10th time they have put on soil splatter for me to walk by in the Service Garage, but the first time they have mandated it by way of soiling a single constricted access route between arranged vehicles. The big question is where is the soil from? It looks to be from elsewhere, but there are many microsites in this city where it could of come from. Though it doesn't look like it came from last year's daffodil bulb digging activity. Regular readers will know there has never been a location where I have lived or worked where the perps have not dug up the soil, due to building, renovations, septic field rebuilds etc. For example, in Seattle, 2000 to 2002, they put up an office tower opposite my work of some 120' deep foundation, and a residential tower next to my apartment, some 40' deep before building up. I cannot figure out why they don't cooperate and have me go down their dug holes and take a piss, touch the soil or whatever suits their fantasies of their experimentation expectations. The degree of expending 1000x the effort to remain covertly abusive over 1x the effort with cooperation (if they pay me enough, which includes cracking the heads of major players and quislings), is as apalling as it is insane. I don't get it.

A zone-out troving through audiophile nirvana; I am not allowed to even listen to music as much as I ordinarily do. Never mind all the fancy stereo listening gear that one can find online. Another time perhaps.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Reroute the City Bus

Another over-the-top stunt; they pulled an (faux) emergency on S. bound Shelbourne which caused the bus I was on to be re-routed along the way I had driven earlier, post blood draw. (Shelbourne to Richmond to Bay streets for the locals). Three fire trucks, at least two police motorcycles with their flashing red and white lights, and no access permitted to downtown inbound traffic. No burning building or anything like it, just a "light show" as I call these events, though in fact they are very specific as to the emergency vehicle colors and their placement, yellow and white for the City of Victoria fire department. I had driven the Richmond Rd. section before lunch to see the doctor again. Good thing I asked for an appointment last week, otherwise I wouldn't of learned that my white blood cell count was above normal and my hemoglobin was below normal. This is the phone-only-if-dire type of doctor as it turns out. So more blood draws, but without the gong-show overcrowding of the same offices of last week. Instead, I got the "mean reds"; a Caucasian medical attendant with a full flush of fugly red (sunburned) skin on her face, front and neck and arms, and wearing some red and yellowish top with black lines on it. I couldn't wait to get out of there, for all the red goings on. Last week, post blood draw, they put brown plasma dots all around me when crossing the first asphalt surface which was somewhat alarming, or made to be so. Today, it was flushes of red vehicles, four in file and all of the same red even. So perhaps, especially given the perps' abidding interest in blood, mine and anyone else's, the reason for the city bus rerouting was to have me travel a portion of the journey on the same route on a bus that I had used for the doctor visit and blood draw (by private vehicle).

It isn't often the perps set up a real blood draw as they plaster me with their own drawings from me at the lesion sites (not nicks) after shaving. Invariably the assholes place deep red blood lesions next to bright red blood lesions and it is a whole big joke, as well as an unsightly mess until they allow the steptic pencil to be applied and for it to work. They can defeat the action of a steptic pencil if they want, and have me applying pressure to their wound for some 20 minutes to staunch the blood flow as an alternative. They have done this at least twice with their spontaneous on-nose (not from the nostrils) blood letting they pull in the evening; one of those self-erupting lesions that places the blood exactly in my lower peripherial vision, twice now.

A stayover at the First Feral Family last night; I get my red meat for the week and also magnetic beam exposure from the cathode ray tube television. The obit piece on Walter Cronkite in place of the usual 60 Minutes was good. And I see that my recall is getting fucked with more, making me very forgetful of the TV actors, journalists and other's names I know. The Cognitive Fog is rolling in on me and there is nothing I can do about it.

A screw-over in that the PC had to be restarted to rid my browser of a persistent frame of orthogonal lines that came up in every fucking tab. Absurd, and all to get me rage-ified as part of the stunt. There have been more of these kind of "total PC intrusion" jerkarounds of late, forcing me out of the browser as closing the tab on me wasn't good enough.

An earlier visit to the part time car dealership cleaning job brought on a severe case of the Pseudosweats. This is the imposed condition of excessive sweating from the victim's arms, forehead and face, usually far in excess for the temperature conditions. In the past week they have had me re-towelling my forehead at least five times before exiting the bathroom (morning routine of shower, shave and dental hygeine), long before the daytime heat has built up, say 0700h. But tonight, they kept hammering my left face with ticklish Pseudosweat to force me to dry that side directly on my T-shirt, without benefit of hands that were gloved in green nitrile gloves. I suppose part of the deal is that they get to have beads of sweat flying off me and contact things (walls, doors, carpets) that I don't ordinarily contact.

At the car dealership job tonight everything was going fine except for the vacuum cleaner that regurgitated its contents on the floor just as I was cleaning it. It was then that the Blonde Salesman came swooping in "needing" to get something nearby, way too close for normal interpersonal distance. Then I stormed off with the vacuum cleaner to retire it and get the broom and dustpan, and lo, if the same fucker didn't track me there for some reason, on my ass again, only 12" away. I took an alternate route to the front doorway with the broom and dustpan and the fucker was on me again, coming toward me. Three too-close gangstalkings inside of 1.5 minutes, tracking me some 60' away even, while dealing with the sabotaged vacuum cleaner. Later the boss man tried to fix it, but deferred until he gets his screwdrivers to remove the filters. We already had one round with one filter that I cleaned, that he claimed I shouldn't of wetted, some two weeks ago, so here we go again. It is the only vacuum cleaner I have ever known to mascerate leaves; suck them up and then spit them out in smaller pieces. But as I suppose the clock is winding down on the cleaning job, only nine more evenings, the perps are laying on the silly shit as they won't have this opportunity again. Or, at least, until we get asked back, as there have been a number of hints that the new cleaner is destined to screw it up. I have no idea who the replacement cleaner is to be, nor the personnel goings on at this car dealership as the story doesn't match the reality. Only last week they put on an extra large tubby salesman for two evenings, as I had never seen the guy before. And sales are said to be falling too low for the owner's comfort level. All I know was that the New Tubby Salesman was posing identically to the regular tubby salesman in the doorway chair, and was wearing similar clothing colors; black pants with a muted red shirt. The regular tubby salesman was wearing a pink shirt, and regular readers will know how much I loathe the sight of pink clothes on males; almost as much as pony tails or long hair (on males). All part of the Unfavored posing and posturing that I am arranged to see.

Another absurd stunt tonight at the car dealership was having an army (in camo fatigues no less), navy and presumably an airforce representative seated side by side in one office, as if they were negotiating a car purchase. This is a car dealership on the West coast of Canada for crissakes. How on earth would three military personnel from each major branch end up together in one office for a car purchase? This city is not where armed forces arrange fleet-wide acquisitions, nor when crammed into one small office. Another WTF moment, and there have been plenty. Perhaps it was an arranged "auric goodness" moment; the good aura of the only personable (male) employee (save the brief interactions with the mechanics) to be seen with one member of each branch of the armed forced, (possible traumatization associations from the memory wiped years, 1956 to 1959). This is similar to what they do with blondes as mentioned in past postings; put the blonde babe with the male Fuckwit (wheelchair, obeser, negro, fill-in-the-blank-from-the-Unfavored-demographic-group), and attempt to determine some comparison or "auric goodness" blend between the very Favored blonde and the other Unfavored prop/stunt Fuckwit. Come to think of it, they did put a dishy blonde visitor with the above mentioned personable male employee, only after the fact.

The city bus freakshow was on the dull side today, and had close to a normal expectable passenger load of 15 or so heading from the suburbs to downtown. The slimey, shiftless shades wearing males packing plastic bags was about the only major Unfavored demographic. The big deal seemed to have their Fuckwits be seen by me through the 1/2" plexiglass of the panels on either side of the back door exit; two panels, one larger than the other so there was a single panel viewability, and two panel viewability (of the Fuckwit procession as they rotated through this one seat, 6' away). Exciting moments for a sicko, viewing a Fuckwit through one or two plexiglas panels. As I have mentioned in past blog postings, it seems to be vitally important to the perps as to what I view their props and Fuckwit gangstalkers through; directly, regular glass, safety glass, dual pane windows, plexiglass, polyethylene sheet, etc. I also noted that the perps are heavy on the "gut strutting" males today, even arranging them so there was an intervening pole to visually separate the gut from the rest of the fucker, along with some visual continuity mindfuck games.

The vehicular gangstalking color parade is going heavy on the red colors of late, and today was no exception, especially after the blood draw. The perps are "daring" to put four same colored red vehicles together, or have three pass by a parked one of the same color. I have seen up to seven arranged red vehicles at one glance, though usually they are stopped at traffic lights or parked. But it would seem that they are decidedly adding more mobile red vehicles in one flush than they ever did before. More excitement for the sickos.

Other variations on the imposed dulldom have related to diet; they let me take some red meat home from my parent's place to eat, something that never happened before, even over six years of visitations. I don't know what exactly is the perp's obsession over red meat, something they stopped me eating regularly since the late 1970's. The weekly red meat eatings at my parent's place were always a one time per week deal, no doggie bags. Or, unless it was turkey from Christmas or Thanksgiving, then they would let me have copious doggie bag portions that lasted weeks sometimes. So it would seem that the perps are incrementally building up more complexity in permitted cuisine as well as on the vehicular gangstalking show. Also on this topic, they are adding more mid and deep brown color clothing on the shiftless gangstalking dudes, so who knows; in two years they might let me eat my own cooked food. (Instead of store-cooked chicken purchases).

Another perp jerkaround was to give me a $30 parking ticket for parking in a residental only street, this while at the doctor's office. I lived on such a street some time ago, and there was no enforcement of the resident only parking signs, and no assigned tags to identify the residents. So... I thought, this is easy, just like old times. But lo, if the assholes didn't somehow "find" my vehicle on a residential street (with plenty of more availible parking), and then nail me with a ticket. Not only that, they had an Asian dude standing at the opposite side of the street doing nothing much but looking stupid while I stopped the vehicle, got out and got the ticket. It seems the assholes even arrange to place the ticket where I first don't notice it, on the passenger side, another first for parking tickets. So yes, getting parking tickets is a perp specialty they don't get to pull on me much as I don't have a vehicle, and was borrowing my mother's Ford Escape. What the fuckers get from this, apart from their usual interest in all things financial, is beyond me. I have been with friends who got nailed for speeding or running a red light, but they have never nailed me for a moving vehicle violation. All too curious.

And more unabashed plasma "tagging", aka, "retina burns" that follow me in what I am looking at, and invariably changing color from white, to deep blue and then red, and often cycle between the colors after I have turned a corner. They even nailed me on the bus when it went through this large radius turn, the same location they place all manner of parked vehicles, even four red ones in file. There were never many parked vehicles at this turn, but in the last few years they decided they needed more color action there and arranged some 120' of road to be littered with parked vehicles, color arranged of course. So today, especially on the heels of the bus re-routing, they put on the plasma in my vision, aka "retina burn", and had this sqiggly line sit in my vision for the two minutes or so, before, during and after passing through this large radius turn where they exhibit no end of interest. This is also the location where they put on a supposed police vehicle with its lights and sirens going. The "retina burn" jerkaround, a vision fixed plasma beam, has been played at least twice today, and seems to be increasing as a method for the perps to obtain consistent color/shape information from me while mobile. More dumbshit inanity to come no doubt.

Thats a wrap for tonight, the forced typos are getting out of control and totally stupid.