Friday, July 09, 2010

Too Hot For Berry Picking

July 07, 2010, 1735h

The farm shut down the berry picking at 1500h, so I have some unexpected evening time, along with a noise parade outside that seems to be ramped up for the occasion too. Extra laundry time, and who knows, maybe a foray through the freak show (gangstalker disapora) to retrieve another parcel from the PO two blocks away. The perps seem to like me doing this "brown run", getting the brown cardboard parcel and toting it back, either in hand or tucked under my arm. I can expect other cardboard toting Fuckwits to be gangstalking me when I have the parcel, and at least I will get some extra freaky gangstalker action, if today's return bus trip at 1556h was any thing to go by; the skinheaded males, the tattoo shows, the negro on a electric wheelchair (a two for one Unfavored), and the ongoing kiddie show, not properly a freak per se, but it seems that having children in a stroller is now de rigeur for the gangstalking show on the city bus.

The strawberry picking started under some imposed duress, as the assholes either dithered my ability to see red, or else dithered thelighting such that it was very difficult to distinguish the varying red strawbwerries. All the light orange through orange red through ruby red to dark wine red all seemed to appear to be the same color when viewed in the shade of the leaves of the plant. And the morning sun angle was so bad that I had to turn around to look at the berries. As there was plenty of rotten ones too, it was very difficult to tell if one had a pickable keeper (orange red to ruby red), or else a tosser until after the berries were displayed in direct sunlight. I suppose the perps had been working hard on this, as they arranged mostly overcast days for the past month, which made for much easier picking conditions.

And what is going on with the freaking post office? In the recent past they didn't give me a delivery notice and I retrieved my parcel. Then the next time a notice, but they fuck me out of taking to the PO who gave me the parcel, arranged on the outside counter and not in their usual storage room. And I get another notice, as I have two more parcels coming (with incomplete information as to when they shipped and when, the tracking information), and today, I get a notice for a parcel that I had already picked up. This took a while to figure out, but the forced "forget" of the delivery notice apparently triggered getting a notice for the second time for the same parcel. Go figure; just a useless outing to pass by the gangstaling freakshow yet again, sans parcel this time. Fucking beserk bullshit, jerking my parcel deliveries around.

July 09, 2010, 1915h
A parcel delivery notice had me headed to the PO to pick it up before it closed at 1900h, as it said on the notice. And lo, if the PO didn't close at 1845h on Fridays, for a data download, and the parcel couldn't be accessed because the computer was busy. Another dude chimed in, and said he had made a significant effort to get to the PO, and it was effectively closed. (Said dude tailed me into the store and took a different route to the PO desk). The postal clerk who rebuffed our irate inquires was straight out of a B movie, who was only one of at least 100 freaks (aka gangstalkers) I had to endure on the way there and back. It was like a Fellini movie casting for wierds for the two block walk to the PO, and then back.

This was the second no-parcel jerkaround this week at the same PO; I got a notice on July 06 for a parcel, and went July 07 to find there was no parcel, and it was some dumbshit confusion that was planted by the fact that I picked up a parcel July 05. Why I would get a notice that I picked up a parcel and it be called a Delivery Attempt notice still isn't answered. So far I am batting 50% on parcel pickups from this downtown PO; two last week, doing the trot with the brown cardboard box twice, and then followed by these two jerkarounds where no parcel was in hand. It seems the assholes cannot get enough of me packing (brown) cardboard, not to mention the Fuckwits in my immediate proximity who do the same.

Speaking of brown, and cardboard, the two Cambodian berry pickers on the farm crew are also contributing to the overall wierdness. The aren't a couple, as she is the apparent girlfriend of one of the farm owner's step sons. But this female-male pair seem to do an awful lot together in any given day. Both are now on the same #6 0615h bus on weekdays that I take, though they sit in different seats, and the male, who has a loopy streak, doesn't acknowledge me when I come on board, but she does. At first they were getting off the prior stop and walking the opposite way, but now they get off with me and follow me on a public walking/biking trail to the farm. Niether is much company to walk with, (tried that), so I walk ahead of them in my forester's gait and leave them far behind for the 15 minute walk that it is. As the Cambodian woman is rather large, she makes an effort to conserve her efforts, and somehow manages to find the berry picking to save herself from coming back the same way after clocking in at the warehouse. The Cambodian male does the clocking in for her, and this is where it gets weird; he was far behind me and when I turn around to look, there he is running to catch up for crissakes. I watch this for a little bit and then he stops. We meet up again in the warehouse where I clock in, and he clocks in for both of them. They have a shared shopping bag to keep their stuff in, and he does all the packing of it as well. They have a little hideaway inside the blackberry hedge surrounding the strawberry field, lined with brown cardboard boxes.

and bothe of them pack some brown cardboard along with them while picking, as a sometimes kneepad. But, there seems to be some kind of inexplicable ritual about this brown cardboard, as they don't always use it for a kneepad, and deposit behind or in front of them for no apparent reason. I contend this is for brown color mapping reference purposes, much like other Fuckwits who senselessly pack cardboard boxes on the bus and disembark by walking off with it under their arm pit. Other times, one of the Cambodians will be walking with the cardboard propped on their head for no seeming reason, not unlike other Fuckwits I see on the street, pretending to be doing garbage duty with a stack of cardboard propped on their head. Fucking bizarre to say the least, but seemingly  this is the perp's big entre to having brown skinned people (gangstalker assholes) who also need to pack a brown cardboard reference with them and keeping it in my proximity.

And so it was today, as I "ended up" with one of the Cambodian pair on either side of me for the first six working hours, picking strawberries. The were doing the cardboard box shuffle as mentioned above, and for the most part, stayed within 4' of me the entire time. "Somehow", we all picked at the same rate in a little cluster ahead of the remainder of the crew, who were 30' back for most of the time, and most were Mexicans and the ongoing two turbaned males (Hound Dog Turban being one), and one Caucasian woman who seems to be good at riling me up at least once per day, no matter where, while picking or at break times. Anyhow, this later staged row of pickers also picked at the same rate so they progressed as a line of some 12 or so, 20' to 30' behind me and the two Cambodians.

So..., a shorter day at the berry picking today due to hot weather conditions, but the Cambodian male left early by 30 min. at 1600h. I work to 1640h, walk to the warehouse to clock out, and then back to then take the public walking trail to the bus stop, getting there at 1700h, and take another city bus freakshow ride with some 40+ passengers eventually, the dude with the coffee cup next to me and taking up two seats on the rear bench. And when I get off a block from my place, why, the male Cambodian Fuckwit/berry picker was standing there at the bus stop at the rear exit. Like WTF; this loopy Fuckwit sticks on me like glue, continuting to "show up" in the strangest of places, and constantly peddling excuses to explain himself, though the language barrier is used to great effect.

I have got to get to bed now, 2130h, for an early start.

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