Monday Games

1735h
A day off from the labors of farm work, a stayover at the First Feral Family house, and then fielding and watching, as well as being subject to later gangstalking, and an obstruction stunt at the PO, an ongoing saga that continues. All over picking up a freaking parcel in a brown box, and here they stacked the waiting queue with wierds, including the 300lb negro in black and white clothes. The perps deem it important of late that I get to witness thick ropey necks, usually on fat people, also another Unfavored category besides aforementioned racial group member.

And the three shiftless Asians in black and white clothing at the street corner outside the PO were ready for gangstalking when I emerged from the PO, without parcel. They started some 8' ahead of me, the middle one carrying a cardboard box on his shoulder for no apparent reason, said cardboard having some red overprint on it as well. And so the brown cardboard box stalking has reached a new level of absurdity; ambulatory box packing next to one's face, a very light brown if at all. That the box bearing Fuckwit looked like Michael Jackson wasn't lost on me, though I really don't know why, as I never cared for his music or other show biz trappings.

But I did get to take my wool linting socks back, and still have to suffer another week or so of this nonsense before the acrylic ones arrive, doubtless to more parcel pick-up shenanigans. Another wicking T shirt got sabotaged in the laundry; a stain on it that won't come out, a deeper blackened area of the grey shirt that has survived in good shape for the past four years. It seems the perps want to move me onto colored shirts.

I did get some more cotton shirts today, my mother insisting I take back some brown shorts that she bought at the same store that were never used. All these feints and games over the color brown, and that wasn't the end of it. Later, we stopped at an irrigation supply business to get a fitting to connect the two ends from a sabotaged tear in her soaker hose. And lo, when the topic of soaker hoses came up, why, the store assistant showed us a roll of brown colored polyethylene emitter line, what the pros use apparently, with a filter and regulator installed as well. All that plastic, especially the water bearing pipe, is of intense perp interest, not to mention the brown casing it had on it. I believe I have previously mentioned the perps' obessions with water supply, the nature and color of the delivery pipe, and then the seeming consequent changes that this conveys to crops that are watered with these various water delivery/irrigation systems. Which is why they will have tractors tow those big 14' high reels of poly hose behind their tractors past me, as part of the vehicular gangstalking scene. This year and last, they seem to be most interested in the 3" aluminum pipe that the farms use, both my employers' water delivery methods, and the large poly pipe reels/sprinklers are being sidelined. And too, if the crop is feed for animals, say hay for beef cattle, this is also important to the perps, these downstream uses and the irrigation methods,water source, watering regimen, and color and material of the pipe. Their seemingly endless quest over combinations and permutations of water delivery and its interaction on and inside us nonconsenual human experimentations subjects continues. It wasn't enough that I swam in a swim club for 15 years in two different cities, so who knows where all this bullshit is going to end up.

2015h
Getting close to bed time for this 0430h awakening farm worker, cum TI. I just finished a screaming rage show over a sudden takeover of this PC, leaving the taskbar hidden, and the usual Firefox headers (e.g. address bar) missing as well. Pissing with the Windows settings of Autohide on/off didn't help, and I don't know how I got all of it back on the next Firefox bootup. The perps have given up on forcing keystroke blunders to cover their machinations as to changing the settings, it just "happens" by itself. That, and a prior shutdown at bootup of the PC with no message as to what transpired.

I did the two walk trot to get my parcel at the drugstore Post Office (PO), who have now changed all days of the week to close at 1845h instead of 1700h. It was just on Fridays that they pulled this stunt, and lo, today a Monday, all weekdays of the week are now posted as 1845h. The regular PO clerk was there even with the "Closed" sign up, and made mention of their new hours, and was reasonable about getting my parcel. She gave me an extra long stare, all in the friendly context, as she knows me from two visits in the last week. (But it was an irregular stare all the same, and I have no idea why this erupts so many times. It was the second blatant staring today, the first by some dude I didn't know on the first downtown outing today). This was the same PO that was open until 2300h a few months ago, so clearly this jerking around with the PO desk in the drug store is a big game for some insane perp orchestrator. Shades of "The Prisoner" again, funny how that show comes to mind, all these hidden and gratuitous changes by a mysterious governing agency.

I had my gangstalker entourage all over me when entering the PO this second time, a cyclist with a red helmet seemed bound and determined to hound me in, and to the first store aisle, though not to the back of the store where the PO desk is. One more parcel to go, and having got skunked on getting kneepads at the workwear store earlier today, this looks to be another web shopping. A MIB like skinhead was also on gangstalking duty in the store aisle; black suit for crissakes and shiny and totally bald pate. Fucking disgusting it was, but only one of the many increased dude stalking types I get. The waddling large gutted male in baggy shorts is also a highly prevalent Unfavored archetype.

And a new form of gangstalking dude, one who sits on a railing in red shorts on the N. side of the street when headed out for the parcel, and the same fucker was on the S. side of the street when I returned, wearing grey and black with a huge black backpack on. Like WTF; strange enough to have a shiftless dude sitting around doing nothing in mid-block, and then to switch the Fuckwit's clothing and side of the street when returning is just too stupid for words. Stupider and stupider is the catchphrase that comes to mind in predicting the next stunt.

And the parcel contained my six pairs of non-wool socks I had to order from the manufacturer directly, not being availible here. That prompted a final washing of the remaining wool socks sitting out for their own washing load, and hopefully puts an end to this insane litany of wool sock lint that has being building over the past 10 months. The lint problem persisted even when having a wool sock only laundry load, and as mentioned in a few prior postings, it is all about taking away the excuses. Though this doesn't always apply, as they manipulate each method of fuckery to end as they see fit; apparent ending of the source problem (e.g. disposal of all wool socks) or just a sudden self fixing, (e.g. above mentioned Windows Taskbar hiding.

And another WTF over my parcels at the PO; no GST (federal sales tax on nearly everything), no HST (provincial tax on nearly everything) and it came from North Carolina, USA. I am nearly always getting nailed for extra money to pick up my internationally sourced parcels, and got roundly screwed over this keyboard when it was shipped from California. My umbrella from New Zealand didn't beget me any extra GST or HST charges, nor did my clothes from Duluth Trading, Wisconson USA. There is no rhyme or reason as to when I am getting nailed for extra parcel border crossing fees, e.g the usual taxes one pays here.

Onto bedtime, and the rest of the evening, hopefully spent in sleep instead of the typical Monday night tossing and turning. Last week they had me flip over, on my front, then back, and repeating this inanity incrementaly every six inches of bed width from N. to S.