Friday, February 19, 2010

Increasing the Provocations

More increased provocations today, the assholes getting me truly enraged and thereby "readied" (and red-ied) for a downtown visitation. The bank deposit got me three red dressed fuckers around me in the line up, the assholes plugging up the ATM, my usual deposit method, and having no teller line up. I got the pretty blonde babe as teller, after she had a red coated customer. I suppose this was a combination of me occupying a space where a red dressed (Unfavored color) customer was standing, with a prety young blonde as the reference (Favored).

And another Fuckover when taking a shit; not only a change over in toilet paper rolls, but they splattered shit 2' away on the vertical side of the bathtub. There was no action on my part that would of caused it, and somehow it got there. Then two toilet backups to deal with, one being totally gratuitious as there was no apparent cause. The extra-conventional gravitic abuse and harassment has been getting worse, and the perps are ensuring that my "reactions" are immediate rage at the 2006 levels when it culminated both in an eviction and a sudden decrease. But now, it is back to that sustained level of abuse, except no neighbor complaints. And for the record, in 2006, I didn't have any neighbors there, same as here, so just who was complaining anyhow?

Other events today were yoga, something the perps have a huge interest in, arranging all manner of concurrent noise. After nearly two years of yoga, where class members are all in place at least ten minutes ahead of time, I was second to arrive with the grotesque negro woman being first. No one else came until two minutes before the class started, a most unusual start today. There was at least one mid-class departure, something that makes no sense as why come at all. There were the usual masers and plasma beams flitting around the room, and on balance, it was a welcome relief from daffodil bulb picking. The Fuckwit Flock was out in full when I exited the building and walked back to my apartment; a long skein of the Unfavored; two wheelchairs, fat folk, a woman street spitter, the shiftless loitering males, the multiculturals and cyclists on the sidewalk.

Other gangstalking flotsam from this morning besides the surfeit of Redcoats was military dressed Fuckwits. An airman, blue uniform against the blue color of the parking ticket machine, and another when about to exit the bank, some beret wearing army Fuckwit somehow got ahead of me. As before, there is no airbase near here, and no army base, only reserves, and yet these fuckers keep showing up. Back in 2007 for 8 months, there was army personnel on the street every time I exiited yoga and walked back to my place. What the sickos are attempting to accomplish with this elaborate dress-up fuckery is beyond me, except to conject that it might be something to do with subconscious memory emulation, relating to unrecalled events of the memory blanked lost years when aged 2 to 5 yo.

There is a connection with yoga in that the Fuckwit gangstalkers are often flexing their spines in public; bending over on the crosswalk was a new stunt today, but often looking sideways at nothing in particular while making a 90 degree turn. Other postures seen are crouching low down, backs facing me, and looking up, again at absolutely nothing. Orchestrated public inanity.

More gratuitious foot and finger jabbings from no apparent source, seemingly to get me to vocalize a mindfuck planted "reaction". The sickos are still keeping with the instant rage-fied "response", which invariably invokes the question expressed aloud, as to "who did ... to me?"

A day of picking daffodil flowers for $0.20/bunch (of ten), and I increased my production to an even 400 bunches today, as I had been topping out at 360 to 380. Don't ask how or why, as the finger fumbling and the cognitive jerkarounds are as frequent as ever, though they now let me use the knife the right way round. (Mostly, still some backwards attempts today). And they now tell us when the stop time is and when the crew bus leaves, something vital that wasn't mentioned until today. Often I would leave too early, not knowing what the shutdown time was. I even asked one of the staff who I worked for in the fall, and he didn't give me an answer to the cessation of operations time.

I met the owner of the farm today, as I was talking to one of his staff at the marshalling area before we go to the fields. I suppose one could call it the business-owner-gangstalk act, as this appears to be a common refrain in all the goings on since the perps went overt in 04-2002. He is a nice man, and I don't hold any grudges or ill will for him or his business. In fact, I am grateful for the work as everyone else seems to not reply. Even the cleaning prospects dried up over the last month.

And almost unbeliveable, but my imposed back pain was ameliorated, and in having most of it removed after some three hours of leaning over two days ago. The perps have me on a on-off alternating cycle of days of work, then off, then work, then all day class (tomorrow), and so it goes, these alternating days that "happen", per perp orchestration IMHO.

And it was the day that 50 Mexicans came to work in the fields, as this has been done for some four years now, and many are returning. I happened to be in the change room when they all filed by, another fine coincidence. As far as I can tell, they fit in with the rest of us locals, in all our varied forms, and work and travel side by side.

And what is with these infernal and disgusting mohawk hairdos? Another one this morning on the daffodil crew, and "happened" to be one guy I worked with for two months in the fall. Then later this evening, when getting my elevator escort leading ahead of me in the lobby, another mohawk hairdo on this obese dude crouching down at the mail boxes near the front doors of the building. I had some on the city bus last week, at least two of the four trips I made.

And what is with the outbreak of marajuana smoke smell? It starts happening when I start the daffodil picking Feb. 13, and even the forman was in on the act. Now, every day I am working, someone, somewhere is blowing on a spliff. And if that wasn't enough, a coincidental outbreak of ganja smoke has started in the streets in the daytime on my days off. A negro woman was sucking on ganja on my way to yoga yesterday, and today, another negro was ahead of me in his disgusting corn row hair and blowing yet more ganja smoke tonight.

I see that they had me with a nearby negro daffodil picker today, and lo, if she isn't next to me on the bus, across the aisle. And prior to getting on the bus, another negro woman "happening" to walk by, though not a picker. A very odd sight in the rural Central Saanich, and yet they keep popping up.  And before I get off, another negro, male this time, was doing his strut ahead of me. Once off the bus, and two blocks removed, another negro, female was doing the lead-ahead gangstalk for the last block before arriving at my apartment building. I don;t have any direct knowledge as to why the perps put on a disproportionate number of negro gangstalkers, but it is getting absurd as to their get-up and the way they are portrayed. Straight out the 1960's sometimes.

And heavy road traffic noise today while picking daffodil flowers. Only some 30' from the road at first, and I didn't pick more than 150' of two rows the the whole day. Constant noise, and often accented with extra noisey mufflers, extra loud motorcycles, extra loud dump trucks and a few sirens in there too. Some aircraft, but no SAC bombers today, and no strange helicopters. Often the noise was arranged just as I sut the flower stem, and seems to be in the vein of similar hijinx when they have me do landscape pruning activities for the First Feral Family.

Anyhow, I am tired after a day of piece rate labor, and I am going to call this one done and post it.

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