Post Gardening Gangstalk Blues

1745h
A First Feral Family visitation and gardening work exercise today.

I got my near-rundown on the crosswalk on the way to the bus stop, proceeding on a Walk signal, and immediately after sighting a negro on the other side that seemed to come from nowhere. The brown Audi convertable with the blonde babe in it said "sorry" after I called her an asshole, for blatantly crossing in front of me who was plain obvious, and she running a red light to pull this bullshit off. And what is this "sorry" bullshit, as it seems to be a key perp Fuckover word? For the record, that is two Favoreds (blonde and Audi, the perps redirecting my vision to the four circles logo), and two Unfavoreds, negro and the color of the brown vehicle. Chances are they wanted me riled up in public before crossing paths with the negro in mid-crosswalk.

Then my freak du jour at the bus stop, this time a mohawk dude with way fugly tattoos on his bare legs and some blue in his hair, the second time this freak has been featured at this location.

It was soil mixing day at the FFF home today. extracting it from the partially dried plugs of dandelions I extracted from the lawn some four weeks ago, then sieveing it to then use in filling backyard lawn hollows, later seeded with grass seed. Then filling about eight pots with blended soil extracted from the front project of last week, and the Miracle Gro soil my mother had just purchased at Home Depot. Who knows what corporate games go on in creating Miracle Gro soil, but the plant growth enhancement solution is actually 2-4D, a plant hormone, also known as a herbicide at greater concentrations as it forces the plant to grow and prematurely expire. My perp abetting mother put Miracle Gro on the tomates last year, and I told her not to use it. What does she do this year; she buys Miracle Gro soil, which seemed to be mostly fine ground bark mulch, and likely had 2-4D in it as well.

Then the in-town brother "happens" to arrive within the first five minutes of my arrival, desparately needing to pee and to then hang around eating cookies (brown, same as what I was eating), and then a banana, and with coffee from the same pot that I was also having. He does his "don't have enough time" rant again, and then proceeds to dick around for 35 minutes, even showing me his recent coin purchases he made in a garage sale scoop that morning. He also gave me two blue $5 bills as a "finders fee", as I helped him get an online garage sale address three days earlier. And have I not mentioned the intense perp interest in the contents of my wallet and the color of the bills that I have? And I supose the prior city bus vehicular gangstalking was heavy on blue colors for some reason, as was the subsequent trip into downtown. And I am wearing a mid-blue jacket that I "forgot" about last year, so this would be the first time in a year that I have worn it.

So... the big deal in all of the FFF gardening work seemed to be about soil mixing; three different sources in the same pot, pile or lawn filling, and my neighbor noise friends, the SAC bombers (three, saw two of them), and the erstwhile two cycle gasoline engine noise, this time a string trimmer. Other aircraft joined the noise fray as well, though the SAC bombers are the most curious as they are to be following a random route assignment so no one can place where they will be. Funny how they fly over Gordon Head with such regularity when I am doing gardening work there.

And the big deal of late seems to be having me isolated when engaging in gardening work, my mother taking off for an over-extended shopping trip while I was dealing with the dandelion plugs that contained roots, root portions and in various stages of desiccation. She also did her sudden nap thing after lunch again, also when I was dealing with live plant roots; pulling apart the containers and then separating the plants, repotting the containers with soil mixtures and then repotting the separated plants into new (leftover) plant pots. All exciting moments for the sickos, such that they need their key quisling/abettor to take a nap while this is occuring. Go figure.

Other related gardeing interests of the perps seems to be what color and what material is the hose nozzle/delivery mechanism is. There is the orange and grey plastic Gardena sprinkler, the Caber dark grey and orange hand sprayer (which the perps have me lay on the ground for plant specific watering in some cases), and there is the soaker hose, as seeming butyl rubber hose that I used to water the recently planted junipers. Past farm work/ownership experience also suggests that this is still a vital issue for the sickos; PVC pipe in a 10' diameter reel, then aluminum pipe last year, then in pre-overt/beserk days, digging up 600' of water line and changing the water supply to PVC, then re-working the kiwi acreage to a drip system, and so it goes. Copper pipe at the FFF home, and probably this apartment, and not forgetting the color of the pipe is also important.

And the usual Fuckover follies of getting the bus back again; the #28 was six minutes early, missing it somehow when I was 15' from the bus in a dead sprint to get it. Then enduring the vehicular gangstalk parade of vehicles, plenty of blue ones, then the bus coming 15 minutes later. This was about 1650h, and the usual bullshit of 40 or so going downtown at that time of day. And the least-likely-bus-passenger today was the strange dude with a 1/4" beard at his jaw line in mirrored shades and a yellow shirt that just had to sit beside me when there was 3' of bench seat next to me. He and his spread legs made sure I looked outside plenty, and the perps kept up a strange chemical smell "from" him or in faux association. Then with a blonde girl two seats in front of me, talking to her big eared dude was too attractive, so they moved the Asian woman, for no seeming reason, from 6' away and plonked her in the transverse seat in front of me so obstruct the blonde. More looking outside time.

Another odd dude with short hair gave me the stare from a bus length away, and then took a seat near the front. Then, at one stop, he gets up again, stares at me, and then proceeds to the rear of the bus and sits on the rear bench seat on the opposite side of the bus. As mentioned in past blog postings, the musical seats games on the bus is getting more stupid, along with my perp-abetting mother stacking extra cushions under her seats in the FFF home. The perps are hot on seat materials, seat swapping, seat thickness and the rest of it. Expect the assholes to be sitting on their coats and shirts sometime soon.

This one is done, completed the next day.