Strawberry Picking Blues

A week round up as I don't have much evening time with this farm worker job running 10 hours a day, and having to get up at 0430h each morning.

June 11, 2010
2020h
A day of picking strawberries, and some new crew introductions as well....

They put on a negro woman in the front seat of the van, all bodies in place when I arrived at 0650h for a 0700h job start. I get into the van behind her, and the perps made her to look like a negro male from behind; short cropped curly hair, and tall as well. It was only when I got out of the van at the strawberry filed that I was allowed to know it was a woman, and a mighty fugly one at that. She "happened" to be picking in the next row, often inviting supervisor (E. Indian woman) admonition to improve her picking abilities. At one point she indicated that I had a dirt patch on my ass, which made me wonder if she wasn't playing with a full deck. What else is to be expected with extended crouching and kneeling on the dirt between the rows of strawberries.

And plenty of siren cascades, as this field is next to a busy artery called Wilkonson Rd. for locals. No end of traffic noise as well, everyone and their Harley Davidson it seemed, all day long. The Snobirds, the national aerobatics also came out to do a flypast, the first of three over the next three days. There is a 100th anniversary of the navy celebrations taking place in this city, and no end of military attention in these parts.

And no less, the perps are putting on at least 20 buses a day going past in both directions, viewable and hearable from the strawberry field, and the kicker is that there is no bus route on that section of Wilkinson Rd. And it is the same each day no less, these buses tripping by, "Not in Service", for no reason but to emulate conditions I have come to know while living at this apartment, overlooking a bus route.
sirens

And jumpy legs and feet, especially so while reading two celebrity interviews, and in a new jerkaround, they had me mentally trasnspose the parents of the two actresses, invoking a planted "thoughts" about the parents of one actress when reading about the other. Just the usual insane mind-fuck bullshit I have come to know and loathe.


And the city bus freakshow is in full flush when coming back from the farm work at 1800h. Some 30 "passengers" (read, gangstalker freaks) on board the bus at this time of day headed for downtown Victoria is absurd. I have done similar "reverse commutes by bus in Seattle and have never seen anything like this number of passengers. I am sitting transverse on a seat next to rear doors, and this fucker comes on board, with at least a half dozen seats to chose from, decides to plonk his back up against the panel immediately in front of me. I "decide" (per mind-fuck planted thought), that this is total bullshit and get off at the next stop. When I get up to get the rear door, the Fuckwit "decided" he needed my former seat, in spite of all the others availible, and sits there even before I exited. Fucking insane, and I have never seen anything so utterly blantant about hounding me as this in recent week.

June 12, 2010
A big weeding day; at least 2,000' of strawberries in the morning, hoe-ing and plucking weeds with the crew and each in our own row. The tractor can roto-till the weeks between the rows, but leaves a 18" swath so the crop plants don't get damaged. I got called off to do a row cover rolling, where the white fabric is placed over the potato crops as a insect barrier as well as ersatz greenhouse in the field. No wonder my mother has some of this and is placing it on her crops. The sickos sapped my motivation for this entire activity, making rolling these to be an exhausting event, which it isn't. The sickos used this new opportunity to piss me off in new ways, and trapping my feet in the rolled off cloth "happened" countless times. It even trapped my boot one time, and the Asian co-worker with the $5,000 electric scooter found this hilarious.

Noise from passing traffic all day long, and it almost goes without saying, the harley-Davidson motorcycle noise is one of the sicko's favorites as they know I loathe it so much.

Anothe Snowbirds flypast, this time in a different field, and they always seem to know where I am as their major display is in the Inner Harbor at the naval base, not out in corn country.


And a major jerkaround in catching the city bus homebound. Two buses did not arrive at their scheduled time, and then three of them arrive all together.

And major vision impairments while I attempt to find a keyboard I want to order. This is part of protracting the exercise of deciding what to purchase, a full time jerkaround the perps like to engage in.

June 14, 2010
A day off, a Monday, and I spent some three hours at my perp abetting mother's place, hauling furniture out of the utility room to the back patio for later removal by the in-town brother with his van. All the furniture got its first time in the sun for at least 2 decades, have never been hauled out in a long time, though I noted some water damage on the drawer unit, and desk unit had been hacked down to two thirds of its original size, and may be an old work desk of mine long ago.

After lunch I installed three electrical outlets to replace the original house ones, now 40 years old. I had the entire house power shut off at the electrical box as the infernal mapping of the circuits isn't filled in, and lo, when replacing the one in the living room, with my mother sitting on the couch, I didn't get whacked on the head from nowhere, and complained loudly about it. And mentioned the details to my mother who put on the dumbshit act again, and me telling her four times that there is no clinical, neurological or organic condition that could account for this, so what is it? A dumbshit reply of course, then another round of explaining that the same individuals who hounded me in Seattle also were hounding me in Victoria, and so how could that happen? Another dumbshit answer, and of course I wasn't allowed to call her on playing dumb, being an ignoramous and not engaging in any meaningful discussion or research on her part, especially when two doctors tell me that I am being harassed by an external party. Another dumbshit response over what the term "party" meant in the context. And then another round of telling her that this harassment has been documented over 200 years ago and she says (still keeping the dumbshit act going), "you weren't around 200 years ago". And when I said that I never said or inferred any such thing, and detailed the "Air Loom Gang" story in one brief sentence, she dumbed out again. I haven't had a "dumbshit wall" conversation with her like this for over two years, maybe three, but it is interesting that it was conducted when the household power was shut down, and that she was ready and waiting in the very room when I got headwhacked from no conventional source. More of the same BS from the Prime Quisling, the First Feral Mother. Aka asshole of supreme proportions.

June 15, 2010
The frozen foods Fuckover; at breakfast I find that the assholes forced a "forget" on retrieving the gluten free bread from the freezer to replace the one that finished the day before. I never forget to replenish my stocks of food, and lo, if it didn't "happen" with yet more contention. I put the frozen loaf on the cutting board but the only way to find a knife purchase to split off the bread end (read, extra brown colored bread), was to put the loaf upside down on the cutting board. And lo, if the bread end didn't go flying off and into the sink and bounce around. Somehow, I "forgot" to prevent this predictable stunt.

Then a repeat Fuckover stunt at dinner, a forced "forget" in removing the frozen tortilla package from the freezer to replenish the package that was just finished. Like I said, I don't forget this stuff, and it "happens" twice in the same day. Dinner plans got messed up, and the heated olive oil got soaked up with a paper towel. This juxtaposition of extra olive oil on a paper towel seems to be a big deal for the assholes, as they pull this shit at least 4x/year, foiling my intention to make dinner after initially beginning it.

As for farm work, more potatoes and weeding. And a fake-out on lunch time, with me starting to eat it and everyone else milling around and in on the fact that it wasn't going to be lunch, but to get the potatoes washed instead. I am the "inside truck man", hosing the potatoes from the hopper truck in a metered fashion and here I was, with a partial tummy full of blueberries, the part of the lunch that I ate before being allowed to know that work was going to start, and lunch was to be later. This, combined with a forced "forget" to take a ProBar, made me very hungry, as I had eaten my lunch at the morning coffee break, and was only having blueberries for lunch. As mentioned in many past blog postings, the perps continue to hound me over what I eat, and what color it is, and having me eat berries for lunch alone, is a huge deal for the assholes. Somehow, I survived the day with a partial food intake.

June 16,2010 
And my new white bucket hat seemed to bring on lots of co-worker gangstalk attention. The sun came on at noon, so I wore it then. It was in my pack all day yesterday but there wasn't enough sun to warrant wearing it. No one remarked on the new hat, but it seemed to be the object of a cluster fuck, in the usual rotational way, of one person chaning duties with the next in some kind of roll call. Or is it "role call"?

Potato picking all day, with a pre-lunch fake-out of going to do weeding, which then caused me to hang up my rainpaints to dry at the cooler unit fan breeze at lunch, (potato washing is wet work). I though this was going to be the last of potato washing, as I leave them in this location when I go at the end of the day. And lo, if I wasn't faked out and then had to retrieve them late in the afternoon, at about 1600h for a second potato washing cycle.

And plastic bag hell again at the supermarket, this time two plastic bags from two different rolls in the produce department couldn't be opened as the sides would not separate. (And yes, I was attempting this at the correct end of the bag). This fucking stunt stopped me from purchasing kiwi fruit, as there was no prebagged kiwi fruit either. So.. it is back to blueberries again, in advance of picking them locally in my farm worker job/toil I do for the assholes. All that soil contact, weeding, root contact and pulling, is just too exciting for the assholes it seems.

The city bus freakshow was highly populated again (about 30 passengers), 1730h into downtown, reverse to the normal commute, and standing room at times. I got at least one tattoo act to avoid, and there was another standing on the curb when the bus was travelling. The assholes cannot get enough of me seeing this bullshit.

More cashier tattoos at the local supermarket; another female, though without the full arm, and only on the inside of her wrist. If I don't like the sight of tattoos, then why in the fuck am I pursued by this bullshit all the time?

Paypal fuckery; after getting spam in the name of Paypal for over 5 years, I was finally forced to look up using it again, as the shopping carts of two websites indicated that I have an account, and would I like to use it? Well, not really, as charge cards have worked perfectly fine for over 12 years of web shopping, so why do I need Paypal? Not much choice in that, as the page tells me I have an account, and lo, if the password doesn't work. I sent Paypal a note to say that I forget the password, and they are to reply to reset it. No email answer. Two days later I am faced with the same dilemma, and avoid using Paypal. I send another reminder I did not recieve a Paypal password reset and they say they did. And still no answer, and I did check my Spam inbox too, and no Paypal response. Obviously, someone has some big plans all over me using Paypal, and of course, by way of the most fraught route possible. An new sales tax is coming in, so I am ordering stuff to beat the implementation deadline of July 01.

As a postscipt to the Paypal obstruction, I go to the website again and attempt online support service, and lo, if the essential button to initiate the service is missing, and still no go on dealing with this fuckery.

June 17, 2010
2040h
I see that Blogspot got sabotaged and some of this posting disappeared.

A day of toil, like most, on the farm laboring front. First potatoes, then picking strawberries, and then potatoes again. They like to have me cycling between the two. The potatoes is always followed by going to the warehouse and washing them. I get to go inside the hopper of the potato truck and hose the potatoes in a measured amount so they drop onto the conveyor at the base of the hopper in a consistent fashion that doesn't cause problems for the downstream potato washing and packaging. Yet again, I get to set the pace of a production conveyor process, this time potatoes. Regular readers will recall that I did the same for daffodil bulbs for the past two years, as well at the "toil of soil", plucking them from the ground after the tractor has passed over to lift them up with its towed implement. Eight Mexicans arrive tomorrow to fill out the crew. This too is a repeat of the past two years of farming; last years berry picking and this year's daffodil flower picking were truncated due to an influx of Mexicans. And I saw one on the bus (rarer than negroes here), so I assume the sickos are getting me "ready" by having an advance gangstalking, which is what they do more of late.

June 18, 2010
1940h
A "lucky" respite from the all too short evenings, as I finished at 1630h today, and got a ride from a co-worker to downtown instead of the city bus freakshow. Though, the sickos are toning it down now, only 15 passengers homebound last night. A little more time tonight, and to get this blog posting written up and posted.

On the outbound city bus trip at 0615h I get a few freakish or odd acts. The Cheersing negro was onboard again, just "happening" to know the odd couple behind me this bus trip, as the assholes had the rear bench seat plugged  up with loafing dudes this time. Normally, they let me sit in the rear bench seat, but today, they wanted the "odd couple" siting behind me. It is the weirdest set up; she exits from the apartment building across the street (I swear there is no one living in this 17 story tower), walks past me waiting for the bus and to the next bus stop which she boards with a strange large dude in sunglasses. Like WTF? Why doesn't she get on at the bus toip closest to her apparent residence and meet the dude on the bus when he boards? Or, if there is a romantic angle to it, why aren't they together at the same place? Said woman also knows the lounging dude that waits with me at the bus stop, both apparently from the same building. Said dude also likes to suck on his cigarettes and his pals make sure the smoke goes up my nose before I remove myself and stand next to the curb instead of leaning on the wall.

A Fuckwit on the city bus tailed me into the ATM lobby at the bank where I got off the bus today. This Fuckwit is a semi-regular in a bald head and brown shorts and normally walks E. after getting off the bus. And it "so happens", the asshole tails me W. bound and into the TD bank ATM lobby where someone had pulled out the second machine, so the asshole had an excuse to loiter behind my back for the entire time of the transaction, which was augmented with extra fumbling imposition to get the check, detach it from the statement and the rest of the ATM deposit rigamarole. As mentioned many times, any and all financial transactions I make from coin machine to banking gets gangstalked, this time more blatant than usual.

Other miscellaneous stuff from the world of farm work. My co-workers like to hang around me especially when:

changing boots and getting into/otu of raingear before or after potato washing,
putting on my Ombrelle sunblock,
assembling cardboard boxes for potato packing,
putting on or taking off of clothes; either for too hot or cold,
egressing into/out of buildings,
putting on gloves, especially the nitrile ones used for strawberry picking.

Other games have been the sickos inundating me with plasma spots and splashes, and also vision attacks with a stinging sensation, as if the sunblock solution is dripping into my eyes, which it isn't as I don't put any on my forehead in the first place.

Now to get this posted, and ponder if anyone was anxiously waiting for this posting. This more infrequent posting, once per week, will likely be the norm for the next six months or so while I put on the work hours so I can get unemployment benefits later this year. And in all likelihood, I will pass from officially being "disabled" to the abled workforce. I am expected to be relieved of my "disability" any day now, as they run last year's income statements through their system as an excuse to invoke another administrative jerkaround.