Sunday, March 14, 2010

Gardening Dreams

More strange dreams prior to get-up time; gardening of all things, and even more strangely at a college where my daughter was angling for admission to a medical school. All very strange to say the least, as none of those themes, save garden maintenance is relevant.

And they had me miss a bus again, the "space out" when I had the schedule time lined up and was set to go in ten minutes. Saturday schedules are problematic as there is less that half the weekday daytime scheduled bus frequency.

And over active jerkarounds while making, and having breakfast, and then a rousing jerkaround over picking up their planted crumb mess on the stovetop. The perps' obsessions with planting crumbs is getting worse, not to mention sabotaging my efforts to clean them up as they now have them hop off the sponge or hop out of range of the sponge just as it is sweeping in to clean them up.

And a blatant "we did it" at the table when eating cereal this morning; three drops of milk aligned some 4", 8" and 14" from the cereal bowl edge at about the 20 degrees off the perpendicular (to me) bowl center. The milk splatter had the asymmetric shape of arriving from the direction opposite the bowl, from the wall. As in, blatantly planted there for me to clean up after whatever gain they get from having the milk drops sitting there.

I did 3.5 hours of gardening at the First Feral Family home, finally finishing the bed that has some 15 hours of digging in it, as there are so many roots, and the invasive plant roots are fine in size as well as dipersed. I had my usual accompanying SAC bomber noise, at least four for the duration I was there. Other strange noises were the motorcycles in suburbia; first the trail bikes and then the Harley Davidson noise.

The city bus trip inbound for downtown turned out to be a zoo; there had to of been 35 passengers on board. I find that way too many for a Saturday headed for downtown, leaving suburbia at 1554h, and running every 15 minutes. As usual, the dude show moved in around me in piecemeal fashion. First a blonde dude in black, and then later a browner who was accompanied by the guitar bearing act. I find the number of guitars in my proximity to be exceptional, and this time it was a glossy black color and not in a case. Troubadors are breaking out all over in this city, or at least, wherever I go.

Then there was the hockey stick bearing dudes; three of them with at least 12 hockey sticks in hand, and they went three stops no less. They could of walked it faster and were in shape to do so. I stopped at the local supermarket and was besieged with gangstalkers. The big attraction is that I was just off the bus and that I had soil from garden digging on my pants. These were the light blue colored jeans, my spare set for grubby work (if given the choice), and that too spurred on a raft of unusual vehicular gangstalking, covering the bus trips with extra clusters of navy blue vehicles, three or four together with the usual greyscale colored vehicles accompanying them.

And the "negro show" was in play on the outbound city bus trip. A male was in place when I got on, and within two stops a male suit in brown (pul...eese, on a Saturday in Hikey Bikey Ville in a residential area) boards the bus and "happens" to know the negro and so they have a conversation which I couldn't make out, but it was getting animated enough to think it was a arctypal Jeffersons episode. Then they get off and within two stops a negro woman gets on with a child in a stroller who wasn't content to be quiet. She gets off in five minutes or so, then a five minute break, and another negro boards the bus, this time an older woman. I wouldn't call it tag teaming, as there was an interval between each's departure and the next arrival, but it is highly odd for so many to be seen on any bus here, let alone when headed to the Whitebread Suburbia of Gordon Head. The last census had less than 3% identified as "other" in this city, and that would include negroes.

My mother and ex were away for nearly all the time I was digging at the First Feral Family home, arriving just when I was finishing up, the "finishing gangstalking" move. My ex's car was in the driveway and they took my mother's vehicle which I thought was most odd, as my mother doesn't like to drive. As it "so happened", my ex was driving my mother's vehicle because her's was blowing steam and out of coolant. I got lured outside in the front, and then my mother was going on about the garage door not working when it was, and my ex showed her by closing the door. Ergo, I was cut off from the backyard in my grubby boots which I had to later take off at the front door and carry them to the back door, going through the kitchen. And part of the prank show was my ex opening the hood of her Subaru up to look at the coolant resevoir, to find it empty, getting my analysis of the situation as well. Then she got kettle water to fill up the resevoir and set off. This water had been in the kettle since 1315 when I came in for lunch, so wasn't that interesting that the same kettle boiled water that I had for tea also made it into the plastic resevoir and presumably into the radiator once she drove off. Interesting for a perp/sicko of course, who put on no end of water games, and will even arrange spittle and splats on the sidewalk to arrive immediately in front of their shills and operatives. There are endless perp games going on with water, and a significant part of it is that whatever water intake in whatever form, tea and coffee usually, is of profound interest to their research.

And the antics weren't done yet, as my ex phoned during the opening ceremonies of the Para Winter Olympics, and spoke with my mother about her missing wallet. That gave my mother an excuse to rifle through the vehicle while I was seated inside, and then "find" it, wave it around and then ask me how to call on her cell phone when her land line phone also had the number stored. Another excuse to put an LCD panel in front of me, and to assay me or whatever it is that the perps find so interesting and essential for me to be viewing an LCD screen. Alternatively, they have a Fuckwit standing near me looking at one, even in the elevator, a prime perp research vehicle. Anyhow, I left before my ex arrived to retrieve her wallet, so I reckon it was all for bringing back that radiator with the kettle water in my absence.

And more First Feral Family absences of late, my in-town brother doing his disappearances while I work on his place, most odd when it is a new task like building a rock wall when it is prominent and visible. So it seems the the First Feral Family quislings need to engage in some kind of distance dependent testing by leaving their place while I am working on it. This is the current phase, and it seems that it is iterative, and they might go more rounds of starting closer again, maybe with differing clothing colors or whatever the variables are that are being tested.

A round of screaming at the assholes for ripping my glasses half off my face under the cover story that my earmuff removal to block out an annoying muffler noise that was somehow getting through them. And while yelling at the fuckers the overhead clunking started up and a yellowish flash came over this page. Another first, the earmuffs snagging anything let alone my cable temples that wrap around my ears and don't ever snag anything. The perps put on at least 50 like "snagging events" in any day, which is about that many in excess of the rare event that it would happen before they went overt and beserk. Overt-serk maybe, though it just doesn't quite cover the depravity of it all, invading someones' life with relentless extra conventional gravitic pranks to piss off the victim, some hundreds of times per day.

I got screwed out of posting this last night so I will keep it rolling until noon or so when I visit the First Feral Family and do my Sunday stayover to make Monday a total perp scene. And a doctor's appointment then too, all to add more freaks in the waiting room, usually with their mouths open, though the odd suit shows up there too.

A brutal morning so far with constant abuse all to keep me enraged every two minutes or less. The usual fuckery; objects being pulled from my grasp, extra noise attached to everything I do, and of no ostensible cause (.e.g. a flat bottomed bowl rattling on a flat table by itself), crumb inundation with the recently added feature of them being resistant to being cleaned up or grasped for removal, transitory vision impairments, having my bare feet land on crumbs or other objects that weren't there last night, extra mess of no ostensible cause, now colored to ensure this is noticed (green splats to replace the "usual" brown splats that arrive somehow near the coffee pot), and a few other enraging abuses which don't come to mind. The only major thing different was that I had Cadbury Creme Eggs in place of the 100g of chocolate for breakfast in keeping with the perp's brown color obsession, the first time since last year, so maybe this was the big deal for them. And I see that the Creme Eggs are smaller this year, and if I have anything to do with it, and I usually don't, this will be the last time ever I eat these things. Too much perp abuse over brown food, this time augmented with white and yellow filling. The perps have pulled me off most yellow foods, especially eggs for over 8 years now, so maybe this is a way of them re-testing me on bright yellow colored foods again.

And I see that they are now starting the laundry games of making me go to other floors to get my clothes cleaned. There is one set per floor, and today, it "happened" to be out of service, and when I attempted to get in anyway, the key wouldn't work. I spent 15 months living at an equally desolate residential building from 2005 to 2006, and the assholes kept me cycling from one floor to the other with machines in use and out of order and the rest of the bullshit, all to have me more exposed to hallway gangstalkers (two from my 1979 forestry class) and likely as a test of laundering at differing floor levels. That was forced by the fact that they shut down the laundromat I was using, as I had my vehicle then and it was a whole lot more convenient to go to the laundromat than go looking for availible laundry facilities in the building. No seeming residents there, and yet the laundry machines were in use when I needed to use them. I am predicting a return to those laundry fuckover days as of now. Most times in this building I have been able to use the laundry facilities on this floor, with the odd exception of it being in use. So now, they shut down access to the room on this floor for the first time. It is just a start I figure.

We are now on Daylight Savings Time, and I expect the usual impasse to resetting my watch, even with the instruction book in hand. This is a semi-annual event, having me go to the Asian jeweller to reset it and it seems a big deal for the perps, and that combining it to coincide with an appointment the next day might be cause for more disruptive fuckery. We shall see. This bullshit over resetting my watch for time changes has been going on since 2004 or so, when they last stole my watch and had me replace it with an identical one from said jeweller. The assholes had previously taken out two analaog stainless steel mesh banded watches in the previous year, and I got a digital sports watch with a rubber based watch band. They then stole that from my locked locker at the swimming pool in late 2003 or early 2004, and it was replaced with an identical model from a different location. Since then, they haven't fucked with my watch, save this semi-annual jerkaround of resetting the time. But they do script sudden noises when I am looking at the digital watch face, so perhaps there is something coming off of it and are testing portable LCD panel for whatever fuckery they deliver from these devices, possibly calibrating it from cell phones and larger LCD devices. Who knew that LCD devices were fraught with prison planet fuckery?

That's it, onto the FFF nonsense and gangstalking with some brown skinned doctor visit time on Monday until I get back.

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