Sunday, April 11, 2010

A Breakfast Four-fer

What got the sickos so excited this morning that they had to enrage me at leat 15 times? Was it what I term a "four-fer", four food items new or finishing up (same result, packaging in the garbage)? very likely, as this doesn't happen at breakfast very often as the ingredients don't turn over that fast, unlike the lunch and dinner quesadillas that is the usual fare.

A new bag of coffe was begun this morning, a new loaf of bread with attendant hassles below), a new pot of jam was begun and the hemp seed was finished up to reveal a fugly red bottom to the mylar bag. Truly an exciting moment for those who piss with every facet of my existence, down to the last vision pixel. The coffee making went OK, save for the bag rolling up as the fold at each side has taken to "self-reluctance" and not folding down the side when rolled from the top over the bendable soft metal fold-down. (No sudden dustings of coffe in other words, ones that self erupt off the coffee on the spoon and spread in an even distribution on the stove top). The new loaf of bread didn't go as well, as it is a specialty gluten free kind that is purchased and kept frozen until needed, and lo, if there wasn't a forced "forget" on taking it out yesterday, leaving me to retrieve it from the freezer. I don't usually forget this when a loaf runs out, but like everything else, I don't have a say in what I am allowed to recall and prevent. The crusted end at the bag opening end was too frozen to remove, save a 2" x 1" portion that happened to suddenly pry off, unlike the remainder of the slice. But as it "so happened", the slice at the opposite end of the loaf, once pried with a knife on the cutting board, just erupted cleanly, and I had a slice to then place in the oven to toast it until thawed.

The new jam was red currant, something I did not want to purchase but it was the only jam in that line left at the time at the local supermarket. While it looks dark, it isn't once manipulated with a spoon, and it made for some very fugly pink-red color combination when mixed with coconut butter to make the latter spreadable, as it is soft and crumbly otherwise. And need I say that the crumb games are getting to be totally absurd and more incessant of late, so no need to tempt the assholes any more. This little routine change up, of mixing the coconut butter with the jam to a thick paste in a small vessel with a spoon started last week, and serves me well after the assholes stopped suggesting a blender would be a good solution. (Yes it would, but is not very affordable, especially one that is better made to thwart the usual sabotage that I recieve at the hands of those who would exploit any product deficiency. And it would save on bread, but as I haven't worked out what will be mixed together, it isn't that important for me to have a blender).

Back to the bread; the very fugly pink-red colored coconut and jam-coconut paste was duly applied after the oven had thawed the bread, and the one portion that had broken off the other end. So here we have a testing methodology, having bread from both ends of the loaf at once, both being thawed out under the oven grill element, and both recieving this one time (so far, I got black currant jam this morning to replace it) fugly pink-red colored food paste.

Regular readers will recall that the start of a new loaf of bread brings out extra harassment jerkarounds to rile me up, so having a piece from each end on my plate must of been exceptionally interesting for them. The theory on why this occurs, is that one end of the loaf is crusted a mid brown, different from the top of the loaf (dark brown), and it seems this confers some kind of properties to each incremental slice, being distance dependent, so less "brown energy" in each slice that comes off. And the final slice at the closed end of the bag would ordinarily be similarly crusted, but it seems the loaf is a half loaf of a commercial bakery size, and would have the least amount of "mid brown energies" of all the slices. Hence today's stunt of having a piece from each end so they could be compared, and with the fugly pink red jam-coconut paste on each as well.

Tonight's meal is done, the usual tortillas from scratch, and nothing extra, save a sprinkling of sea salt. They started me on sea salt about two months ago, and don't let very much come out for all my efforts. It isn't a big deal as I don't crave it, but it is likely very important for the assholes as its constituents, even the trace elements, might be traceable in my digestive tract, and any further assimilation into body tissues. Which is why the perps like me to wear gloves for a few days and then punch a hole in a finger so it is exposed to say, soil, and presumably they then can trace any absorbed elements through this one port of a fingertip. Then they move onto creating a second hole in another fingertip of the glove after that. And it always seems to occur on my left hand glove, and I am right handed. I have a stack of at least three right hand gloves, hoping they will compensate by changing their interest to glove holing to my right hand.

And the sea salt intake is interesting, as the assholes hooked me up with a friend of my brother's that was on this health promotion, and a big sea salt intake (a tablespoon, 2x/day) was part of the treatment, as was thyme oil. This was early days of their 2002 overt-beserk assault, and I had not yet figured out this was a total life harassment/abuse situation then. So, here we are, close to eight years later, and where are we? Why, studying grains of dietary sea salt intake for crissakes.

An earlier pre-lunch trip to the local supermarket for a Chicken Run, and getting replacement jam. This time the latter in the form of black currant jam was availible, so I will stick to it for mixing with white coconut butter. Regular readers will know that the Chicken Run is the name I assign to the exercise of procuring hot cooked chicken from the store, bringing it home usually near a meal time, and then removing the skin from it and eating some directly off the carcass, without benefit of a dinner plate or any niceties of decorum. I had my gangstalking team ready for me in the elevator, two women who were some 20 years apart, one at the door giving me this tense and doeful stare with her big doe eyes. She was wearing a fedora as part of a funky campy get up.The other one did a 90 degree turn inside the elevator, interestingly making no more room for me. I didn't think they knew each other as they said nothing on the way down, and only when in the lobby did they converse. I suppose it was a drama act of "woeful tension" this time, instead of the engaging regulars of the building.

I had my followers in the supermarket as well as the ones planted ahead of me, and even the kiddie act was in play, having a 4 y.o. shopper putting on the "I'm lost" act for me to observe. Then there was the swivel headed dude, walking straight at mt while looking sideways, this time 10' away, so collision could be averted. It was a cooked chicken, now purchased in partial amounts as the accelerated decay in the fridge makes purchasing a whole free run bird uneconomical. But as it was a Sunday morning, the perps backed off from their usual swarms of Fuckwits that obstruct, and re-visit me in the store.

A confluence of noisestalking while applying for jobs online. The high revving  motorcycle noise that somehow gets through my earmuffs, and then the overhead pounding and rumbling nnoise started up at the same time. This does seem to be the theme of late, putting two noises together simultaneously, and more often than when I am screaming at the assholes. Tonight's jerkaround was to consistently fuck with file names, changing a number that was part of the name, and reverting it to back to the incorrect one. And it was incorrect as they dithered me in the first place, when I knew exactly what to number the file, and then I "forgot" in another around of never-before behavior. As mentioned many times, the sickos have an abidding interest in the entire concept of employment and jobs, and make no bones about messing me around should I ever do something that is related to this. And as I write this, the siren noise started up again, at least the fifth time today, with a flurry of three of them by 1100h this morning. And this is a Sunday, and somehow it is extray busy for sirens, but no visible emergency vehicles.

Onto picture time and adding a few in from the recent set.

This one taken 02-01-2010, as in Febuary this year, with two perversities by my standards. The street on the upper right, closest side, has five parked silver-grey vehicles in file, and a slightly brownish grey vehicle mobile in the center lane. Two blacke vehicles are parked in file on the opposite side, and besides the green colored vehicle, every remaining vehicle is in greyscale colors. The second perversity is the three white trades vans parked in a splayed out fashion, two of them on the grass when there was parking availible. And for the record, I have never seen any shop/trades activities associated with any of these vehicles, they just come and go, within the day. Two of the three trades vans are laddered, that is, are packing ladders in the typical vehicular gangstalking pattern I have come to know, but in the context of this picture, it isn't perverse.

 This next series, taken 02-10-2010, 1213h 07sec. starts out as relatively benign, with the only oddity being the two black vehicles parked in file, and a vacant stall, and a mid-grey vehicle ahead of them. Boring even.

Taken 02-10-2010, 1213h 10sec. A little more arranged, especially the two while mobile vehicles moving into the picture at the bottom, and a mid-grey vehicle behind them. and the black vehicles made to stand out with the bus obstructing the mid-grey vehicle, and the mobile navy blue vehicle clustered with the two black parked vehicles.

Taken 02-10-2010, 1215h 10sec. Another black vehicle has (almost) replaced the one above near the two black parked vehicles, but the blue vehicle has come to join me in the discovery of three blue vehicles in the parking lot in the foreground. A deep red vehicle is sliding into view on the far right, often the less Favored colors (reds of ehicles, clothing) follow Favored colors, mid tone blues.

Taken 02-10-2010, 1215h 17sec. Same as above, except the mobile vehicles have progressed to the left, and adding to the arranged colors, another deep red is coming in on the far right, behind the tree branches and following the one that is in the center, both the same hue of red even.

Taken 02-10-2010, 1215h 23sec. And ever to plant pink in my view, here are the flowering cherries in full bloom. A triple red vehicle convergence, one of the ones above making a turn beside the red pickup, and a parked red pickup ahead of the pickup with the cable drum in its box, also parked. And what would it be like without boom trucks in my proximity, though mostly two or more in a cluster nowadays. There we have it, four great stalking props; ladder bearing vehicle (light blue vehicle parked, with yellow stringers on the right side of the street, the aforementioned boom truck, the white trades van, and last but not least, a drum of cable. And did you know that a number of cable drums were remaining from a project at the Pentagon on 09-11-2002 where Flight 77 slammed into the building? (Or at least, is claimed to have, as I am not impressed that the hole in the building was big enough, or that the aricraft's tail was also engulfed. Though they did find 757 landing gear in the rubble. And somehow, the anti-aircraft batteries didn't get triggered either, one the most guarded buildigs in the world). Hmmm....

Enough of putzing to call this day done, and ponder the ignominies of what will unfold on a Monday at my place. Not First Feral Family visitation as my mother is in Hawaii with my out-of-town brother and family.

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