Monday, July 06, 2009

An Unbirthday

A day off from the berry picking grind, and it happens to be my birthday. Thankfully, no planted ideations in advance that today would be a big perp event of final freedom. It is just another continuation of jerkarounds; pulling items from my grasp, tripping me, controlling me to go to the wrong cupboard, faked touches as well as public gangstalking with the freakshow. In the latter case, they put on a male skinhead, white skinned with tattoos on his head. Very freaky that was. Other gangstalk themes have been large black vehicles, though no black themed double decker bus today.

The title of the posting is taken from the Alice in Wonderland Disney animation film, the "very merry unbirthday" skit. If one doesn't have cognitive freedom, then birthdays, like so many other events, take on a whole new meaning. But it means that I am officially a senior citizen, at least in the parlance of the housing authorities and that I am now eligible for rent support, when they find a place for me. I am not too hopeful they will be offering a subsidized housing anytime soon, as the major fuckover thrust has been to keep me broke, if not in the hole, and we cannot have solvent TI's, can we?

On that note, I see my three month old walking shoes are taking on a list to the outside, prematurely worn down on the outside of the heels. My mother blew this off by saying, "you didn't pay too much for the shoes". Translated, the excuse for getting my shoes fucked with is that I didn't dump enough cash into them. They were $90 retail, and I got a 40% employee discount with my card, so the answer is, it depends. I expect better for $90, but how this will translate to refunding is difficult to predict. Regular readers and most TI's will know that the perps are obsessed over footwear, and taking them back is just the thing they like to promote. And they have me already looking for alternatives, so perhaps these shoes were planned to be of interim use only. Perhaps the boneheaded shoe bomber stunt's legacy, footwear checks at the security gates, is due to perp machinations. One can only wonder, especially the perp's interest in us subjects when flying on commercial aircraft. I haven't figured out just what their interest is, but it may have something to do with separating the earth's energies from us mortal's energies, some 35,000' up. Even elevator transit, all six floors of it here, gets plenty of gangstalker action. One being the made-in-perpland stunt of having someone barge into the elevator before allowing me to get out. This bullshit began in 2004 and hasn't let up, and occurs about once per two months.

Another pissing match over the laundry today; the black stretch cordura pants got caked in white lint in the washing machine, and only a partial removal on a second washing, the pants alone. The lint inundation games continue to be a high priority and often add some ten minutes of de-fuzzing time just when I am about to head out.

I saw the doctor today, another useless bullshit show, though he is at least personable. We got onto topics of alternate energies, motive power solutions for automobiles, and lastly, his braided stainless steel pen. He said it was the same as used for Porche sports cars, and I have no reason to doubt it, as it can be purchased for the aftermarket, even Volvos at one time. The perps love steel braided cable for whatever reason, all those surfaces and angles perhaps, and the coaxial TV/internet cable is a reasonable substitute I have come to know.

Onto berry picking tomorrow, weather permitting. I am getting some strange direction on berry picker productivity. First it was the farm owner guiding me in picking raspberries faster, a 40 min. per ten pint tray carrier expectation. Then when I was hitting 45 min./carrier he then claims he is looking for 30 min., or two per hour. And we won't metion how many raspberries were magically stripped from my hands either, as that would account for the productivity loss alone. I don't know what the deal is, but he had some pickers paid on a piece rate next to me, and they claimed they didn't know what they were going to be paid. The strange thing was that they started on the row opposite me for some ten minutes, and then they got pulled to go into another field. It could of been some kind of red/green (berry/foliage) calibration testing and then an attempt to replicate it elsewhere. There are many strange minor behaviors in any given day of berry picking, and I won't get into it for now.

Time to make tracks to get an early start on the day, bedtime at 2200h is as late as I want to go.

No comments: