Tuesday, August 04, 2009

Laundry Room Gangstalking Returns

The perps had me using the laundry room without gangstalker accompaniment for the past year or so, and now have reverted to bringing in the Fuckwit when I "happen" to be there. And moreover, the said Fuckwit stands behind me giving me the creeps until I am done. The entry moment for the Fuckwit was immediately following cleaning the dryer air filter screen, and before the laundry had been moved from washing machine to dryer. I don't know what the attraction is, but in the past the perps also put on gangstalkers at the laundry transfer moment. That he was a doppelganger for one of my former (now aged) colleagues was interesting, though the voice didn't match.

And I suppose part of the attraction is to have a gangstalker on me at the moment of loading coins into the slots and starting the dryer. This amounts to a financial transaction, and we all know how beserk the assholes go over that event, in all its forms and locations; cash, check, credit card, debit card at ATMs, checkouts, online, resturaunts, etc.

I did my month end financials, reconciling my record in Quicken to that of my online bank statement. No major jerkarounds that would of caused a rage show, but they did take me sideways at least 50x; looking at the wrong line, changing the amount while at another screen, reading "problems", "misperceptions", and a few others. As always, they blank out the color for Transactions-Edit-Insert, and fuck with the split entries so I have to key them in when they are calculated but "somehow" end up in the wrong box. The imposed chocolate fixation cost me $145 for July, and there was the parking fine for $30, and overdraft fees of $15. It looks like I will be $1,000 in the hole by month end unless I get some more farm labor income, which I might do tomorrow even. Which tells me that if I want to upgrade this PC I had better earn some $2500 to be in the black when it is all done and said. And only one month left of farm labor work going by last year's experience.

Earlier, I had a nap and was awakened some 40 minutes into it by an "employment coach" of one local disability help group. And lo, if it wasn't a sing-song Scottich accent for 20 minutes, which if you follow this blog, is a decidedly Unfavored accent that only the perps can explain with certainty. (It is postulated that in the blanked out years, age 2 to 5, I met the infamous Dr. Ewen Cameron (a Scot) of McGill University when we stayed there for two academic terms). Basically, it was a wash, as the disability programs are for registered degree or diploma programs, a whole $1200/year. There is nothing to cover evening classes, even if it covers workplace software. Nothing new, but an earful of Scottie Talk as I have come to call this particular harassment stunt, albeit relatively innocuous. He kept driving at "is there something else you can get into", and "would you like to explore other options". I don't know what this portends; a ruse to keep the conversation going or was it a big hint I will be doing something else. (The perps keep telling me that I will be a oil industry roughneck next year, but as they never allow me to stay in the black, or earn large amounts of money, this cannot be anything else but bullshit. )

Earlier today, I took my medical sample in, gave a blood sample and then an urine sample. In the last category the perps totally screwed me as I wasn't able to pee more than 1/2" deep into a 3" deep collection jar. So far, I haven't heard back that it wasn't enough, but given that the home collection shit sampling has been fraught, I shouldn't of been too surprised for another never-before event, an inability to provide a sufficient urine sample. I had not peed beforehand, and had two cups of coffee as well. An all time record minimal pee just when I needed to deliver a small regular volume. Funny how that keeps happening, the identical "problem" with the shit swabs I took last week.

I had to deal with the locked front door of the medical building, and a Fuckwit cruised in as I was contemplating what to do; on the cell phone, with a skinhead and replicating my actions and then retreating for some reason, as he didn't seem too miffed that he couldn't get in. But I was bailed out by a woman on the other side who could not open the doors to go in the back parking lot door. Totally bizarre, fucking with building access after 0800h.

I walked back into downtown, some 20 minutes worth, and had my vehicular gangstalking show (~800 vehicles) of coordinated colors and types all around me, not to mention the red light running so they can minimize the time between the vehicle and me crossing its path on the sidewalk. This bullshit is getting out of hand of late, even the cyclists are running red lights now.

I also had my asphalt sitting Fuckwits at a bus stop; sitting on the edge of the roadway for crissakes. Then another fucker 25' away standing beside the road doing absolutely nothing but staring at it, 90 degrees offset from the road sitter, a negro in this case. Another set up was a road maintenance crew who closed down one lane and had vehicular road traffic constrained with the E. bound traffic using a W. bound lane. Not only did they have the dayglo temporary road signs up, and a dumptruck parked in the road (facing opposite direction of normal road traffic), but they appeared to be doing nothing substantive, e.g. no excavator. And then the attendant four dudes in dayglo arranged themselves in a line transverse to the sidewalk direction, and then left an opening for me to pass through.

Then, once getting back from the walk, which took in the local supermarket along the way, the perps put on some orange color games. On the third attempt I was allowed to find the orange boxes of baking soda, (they couldn't of been there before), and also purchase fresh peaches. Once I got back and put away my groceries, an urge came on to eat a peach, which are usually messy. My long standing solution to eating peaches is to eat them over the sink and let the juice flow out and have it be caught by the sink. So... yellow-range peach juice falls into the sink, and immediately following, I place the new frypans in a baking soda (orange package) solution to remove the shellac off the copper bases. Not that it worked, but I suppose there was some serious color comparisons going on in perp land with two orange color sources in the sink with two pans with copper bottoms. Don't ask me why all this color continuity is important, but it is, and it seems to be getting more complex of late.

And I am made to be at a loose end, as this is when I would ordinarily be doing my part time car dealership cleaning job. It was 1.5 hours six times per week, and at least accounted for some time in the day that I was occupied by work, and not slouching in front of this here LCD blathering about crumbs, lint and the rest of the insane impositions I deal with all day.

I got screwed out of getting a bus pass tonight; "remembering" just when the LD store was closed isn't my style, so it must be another party that is doing the recall management, and not to my level of satisfaction by any means. Just one more adversity on top of the rest of the bullshit that has been going on today. Fucking depressing that I am not allowed to turn a page without it becoming an adversarial experience with the assholes working my fingers contrary to my intent.

Time for some pictures to fill out the posting. I never hear much if they are interesting or not, save one commenter. But I suppose that is part of the nature of the harassment, sustaining isolation and not allowing interaction except in highly controlled and limited circumstances.

Taken 06-24-2009, 1831h 48sec. Two silver-grey vehicles and two similar blue vehicles. The second silver-grey vehicle is behind the tree. (Haven't we seen that before? Yessir).

Taken 06-24-2009, 1831h 52sec. The wider scope, nothing any more odd that the first picture above, though there are more white, and grey vehicles, as well as the dutiful ladder bearing commercial van that is such a regular.

Taken 06-24-2009, 1831h 57sec. A second Volvo 244 moves into the picture, beside the parked blue Volvo, but a darker silver-grey, an unfamiliar color option, and I do know my Volvos.

Taken 06-24-2009, 1832h 04sec. The white truck that came from the left side street, turned the corner behind the leftmost foreground tree, and proceeded in front of the silver-grey Volvo, stopped at the traffic control. Nothing too perverse here, though one can treat these as Where's Waldo and find more strange arrangements than I can find. (My ability to detect normality has been defeatable since late 2007 to early 2008. The reflection in the pool of water is way strange, but it is not the first time. The perps routinely modify/create reflections in glass and mirrors, but this was one they didn't mind being photographied.

Enough for tonight, and wish me well for returning to the daffodil fields to scrape the soil and dig up the bulbs. It should be interesting if nothing else. I wonder what the script is for tomorrow.

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