Milled Flaxseed Crumb Fucking Blues

1235h
That was too easy; "finding" milled flaxseed in the supermarket and then purchasing it to resume my diet of some three years ago when I could find it at other stores, enabled by vehicle access. And so this new brand, organic and all, "happens" to behave totally differently in the cereal bowl, as if charged with static electricity and sticking to the spoon or bowl in great quantity. It can even defeat being rinsed out, twice in fact, and can even stick to the bowl after vigorous scrubbing with the dish cleaning brush, the last remnants removed by hand. So..., given that this is totally strange behavior compared to the last brand of flaxseed, and there is no lessening of this insane crumb fest idiocy, the flaxseed gets chucked, a near pound of it, all to reduce the hassle level, and more to the point, serve as a three day test of flaxseed ingestion after a three year washout of not eating it. And it fits the pattern of incremental dietary changes, seeming to fit the usual jerkaround patterns, starting small, building up, and if intractable, then stop the diet change. In other words, no sustained major diet changes are allowed unless all energetic parameters are 100% modelled. A tall order never bothered the sickos, and that means seven years of impositional life rape at every moment of one's existence.

The perps are on a crumb fucking tear of late, and it seems they cannot give this one up, now testing smaller crumbs of the milled flaxseed. Expect a repeat in a year or so, as the digestion of essential fatty acids is a big deal for the perps, and they don't yet understand it all; hence these abortive jerkarounds of it becoming too much of a crumb hassle, at odds with other brands of the same commodity.

2200h
I did the Fisrt Feral Family dinner, and the same ass-backwards invitation of my in-town brother was my doing this time. For the second Family dinner at the house, they "forgot" to invite my in-town brother. It was me who answered the phone, and he asked me about dinner and I said it was in an hour, and he asked if it was OK to come. I had no knowledge of prior discussions, and I wasn't putting on the dinner, but I did find it odious that he wasn't invited (it seemed), and that he should come. My mother made out that she didn't invite him due to an oversight, but mentioned that there was plenty of food to go around. This is nearly identical to two nights ago when, again apparently, he happened to phone at the right time and was invited only then. In both instances he gave me a ride home as I had to take the city bus freakshow to the First Feral Family home. My out-of-town brother is visiting with his wife and child for those who aren't up on the scripted flux that is my existence.

While waiting for dinner to cook, there was an outing to the wine store with my in-town brother and this large woman in black seemed to be loitering where I, or my brother had been, and after a few minutes she exited. She had the look of someone I know, but of a much larger size. And the reds were out once we exited the wine store together; two parked red colored vehicles each side of his vehicle, another one in front of his vehicle, and once closer, another red vehicle in motion and a copper colored vehicle two stalls away. That is seven red vehicles (if copper is counted, not sure about that as I wasn't inundated with this color before), in one glance, and I think the record for arranged red colored gangstalker vehicles is nine. Plus, there was two horizontal 8' long red plastic bumpers for the shopping cart rack in the center of this red nexus. My brother put on that he wasn't fazed in any way, it was "normal". Only in Fuckover land can that considered to be normal. I even asked my doctor once if he would find four same red colored vehicles packed around his in traffic, and he said he would. Sometimes us TI's need to be reminded that our instincts and knowledge is still our own and not subverted in any way. (Though it can be, as the perps first learned to fuck with my perception of normality in 2006-7).

Anyhow, the same deal with First Feral Family dinners; put them on two hours late while starving the victim (TI, me) some more. In the meantime, my out-of-town brother insisted I listen to his Moody Blues at the Isle of Wight DVD at one end of the living room, while at the other end, my in-town brother was regaling my mother and sister-in-law with his pseudo-romance tales, and my niece was also on her own conversational track. Three competing sources of conversation simultaneously, and nothing new to me, having me (more like, making me) flit from one to the other, depending which was the most interesting. Then at the dinner table a similar muti-thread conversation was in place, just with me at more the center of it, flitting from one parallel track to the other depending on who asked what questions. I was assigned this rather unconventional rambling delivery, and having the words accessible (for once), and tripping off my tongue. I had three glasses of wine with dinner, but I am quite sure it was my puppet masters still in charge, and keeping me in this multi-track conversation. Along the way, my out-of-town brother pontificated about software systems building, saying that Geographic Information Systems (GIS) is over saturated with development personnel and was inferior to database design skills. Decoded, in order; WTF does he know about software development hiring as there has been many such GIS jobs advertised in the past 10 months of looking. Another possible decode is that he is supplying the perps' scripted outlook for me for the next 4 months, especially with respect to the GIS courses I was planning to take in the evening, should I get a grant. He declared (more like, supplied the scripted delivery) that database jobs had much more potential and that his business still needs a maintenance person, and that one could work from home. Perhaps the "work from home" phrase was another hint, though I don't see how it fits when I haven't actively worked in the field for seven imposed years. Given the seeming overcautiousness/reluctance of hiring personnel when it comes to me, I find it difficult to take the latter as a hint, as recent and relevant experience is another barrier the hiring personnel like to raise. IN other words, only the better software personnel work best at home, but still require some serious up-front interaction on any given project before they can work off site. Or, at least, that is my view, as too many past software projects have gone off the rails with "at home" personnel. Anyhow, it is all very circuitous, especially when he is talking through his hat. Though, last September when visiting, he slammed construction laborer jobs as being too physically punishing, and this was when the perps had me pumped up to get such work due to what the fellow daffodil bulb laborers were telling me. (And, I had bought $200 worth of clothing at his store to get myself readied for a construction laborer job that never materialized because no one would phone me back.) Read the bullshit as if it were real, or discard it? The recent grant application jerkaround suggests taking the first route to evening courses this fall and into spring.

And interesting is that the grant jerkaround was July 31, the Friday when my out-of-town brother and family arrived later it the day, timed to making it topical for dinnertime tonight. And it did seem like such a gimme lead-in when the topic was first broached by my brother. One has to play the play it seems.

Time to call this done, and hit the hay. The illicit affair blogs were of interest tonight, especially ones from the female perspective. Given the perps' consuming interest in sex, that is, for me to read about or view, perhaps the written word is their incremental introduction approach they have arranged for me this time around. For some five months in 2001 they had me on this 4 hour/night uncharacteristic porn voyeur streak, and since the apartment invasion, they have me uninterested in porn or nudity, which is the way I prefer it.