Saturday, August 07, 2010

Last Post Until Aug. 16, 2010


And what is it about shoe repairs that has the perps so cranked up? First, they prematurely wore the outside of the heels down on my hiking/work boots, and that began a notion to get them repaired. And lo, if in the local alternative paper that I happened to pick up and read at the doctor's office two weeks ago, didn't have a story on local shoe repair and custom manufacturing stores/businesses. So, on with finding a place to get my boots repaired last week (same day) before starting the new farmwork job, and lo, if I didn't get skunked at two of the two locations I took my boots to. One was on holiday for one month, and the other was closed on Mondays. Yet another senseless round trip.

So today, over a week later, after twice intending to do so but running out of time, I check out G's shoe repairs for the opening hours to see if they were open to 1800h. No such luck, save a big vehicle noise when I found out I cannot take them in after getting off the bus after work. I go to another location on the way to the bus stop, and there again, was my "hanger around" (shiftless gangstalker dude) when I walked by to check on opening hours, which weren't posted. Twice in two days I have attempted to find the opening hours of S's store, and had the same shiftless Fuckwit loitering around.

So, on the bus, and some two blocks N, and who do I see jaywalking ahead of the bus, why Mr. G of above mentioned G shoe repairs for crissakes. Another arranged coincidence IMHO, all over getting my boots repaired, which is a protracted exercise for at least two weeks, and will likely run two more before I get them in. I just cannot believe the amount of total bullshit over the most commonplace activities.

Other dufus/Fuckwit loitering has been when depositing a check. The assholes prevented access to the ATM inside the bank, outside of bank hours, and there was two ATM outside. So.... I go to deposit my check, and a Fuckwit male gangstalker, as a dayglo dressed tradesman, is standing at his mid-grey pickup truck at the curb, doing nothing much. A few days later, the ATM inside is still blocked, and I deposit a check, and lo, same Fuckwit in dayglo standing there, still doing fuck all.

And my Cambodian farm worker confreres of the last farm, have resurfaced at the new farm I am working at. And are taking the same bus, which would be expected, as it is the only one going in that direction at that time of day. My beef was with their bus selection at the last farm. They took a different bus to get there by a more direct route, and then later took the bus I was on, a less direct route. This is a male/female pair, no romantic notions at all, and sit apart each time I see them. The latest is that one sat upstairs and the other downstairs on the double decker bus. They seem to be involved in some distance dependent Cambodian skin color interaction games, along the length of the bus, and now from upstairs to downstairs.

The latest is that the 45 min. clusterfuck/marshalling at the farm, is that the male Cambodian sits in the crew bus for most of the time, all by himself, and then she makes small chat next to me, some 30' distant, outside the bus, and with the constant orchestrated milling and parading going on around me. She doesn't usually talk to me, or even hang around me, but somehow was moved to do so when her compatriot sat in the crew bus the whole time for no know reason. As there are two crews, the weeders and the bulbers, we never know which is going to go in the bus first, so everyone stands around outside the crew bus, but for some uncharacteristic reason, the male Cambodian was compelled to sit in it for the entire time, save one featured exit for 30 seconds and then gets back in with his ridiculous wide brimmed white hat on.

A run in with a regular Fuckwit on the floor at the elevator; the elevator rushing games are back. If nothing else spells orchestration, surely these elevator door way run-ins must. This is the Fuckwit I will call Smiley, as he smiles all the time when we pass in the hallway or the lobby downstairs. This time, his usual unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, he attempts to get in the elevator when I am exiting, the door still opening. I state that I would like to get by him, and he doesn't move, and makes out there is enough room, as there isn't. I have to wait untl the door fully opens, and then tell him that it is customary to let passengers out of the elevator first, before getting in. In every instance, these assholes don't move, but remain blocking egress from the elevator, and forcing me to go around them. The last spectacular jerkaround of this kind was a large native Indian dude who stayed right over the elevator-floor interface and didn't move, despite me telling him what elevator manners are for.

Then on the farm work, the tattoos are playing big. The "Tats", a he and she couple for the first time, and then at least six others on the crew, and countless ones in public. The Tats, had tattoos up their necks, and all over their forearm. She Tat even invaded my picking section for no reason but to appear deranged and expose me to her disgusting fine ink line tattoos all over her forearm. I fucking hate the sight of tattoos, and I don't understand why this is interest to anyone else but me.

The male skinheads are also playing big today; the bank teller I dealt with for yet more coin rolls for the laundry machines, another in the elevator, some new farm workers. Another of those Unfavored features I cannot stand the sight of, and yet they keep planting these fuckers for me to see in discrete short term views.

No work tomorrow, a Saturday, as it will be wet according to the forecast. So... I can get some errands done, and one includes an upgrade to this PC, getting a U3S6 card put in to allow faster communication with hard drives. Getting ready for a solid state disk, maybe in two months or more. Asus didn't list my motherboard as a compatible device, and the Asus contact wouldn't tell me why, he just stopped responding to my enquiries. A crap shoot to some extent, but then again, possibly pointless adversity for no essential gain.

A full day of bulb picking, thanfully less tattoo acts on the crew today, but lo, if there wasn't two women with big tattoos on the bus on the way back. One raised her arm at least three times for the overhead air flow control, and lo, if it wasn't loaded with tattoos. Like I said, I fucking hate the sight of them, and I don't see why I should be hounded with tattoo acts everywhere I go.

On my return the this apartment, above mentioned Smiley managed to arrange himself at the elevator again, the second day in succession, cigarette dangling from his lips, but this time he backed off some and let me out. Surely one of those "wonder coincidences" as the bus was on time today, and 20 minutes late yesterday, so how did he know I was coming to arrange himself at the elevator doorway two days in a row on my return from farm work? And a fugly bright green shirt he had with a brown colored vest, changing the color of his clothing from yesterday, and maybe the brown matched the color of the tobacco in his cigarette, his signature prop.

So, a week without regular internet access, and blogging. There is a Vancouver and Vancouver Island TI meeting next weekend, and I will be attending, so it should be interesting as to what transpires. I have mentioned this in the past, but there seems to be some TI cooperation with the perps among this crowd, if the brown drink back and forthing is clue, and so I am in significant trepidation as to how much of this will be orchestrated. Overnight camping in the backyard as well, surely a perp highlight for the year, as they haven't allowed me to camp anywhere for over 10 years. (Not including sleeping in my vehicle, which was extensive in  2000 to 2002, before and after the onset of overt abuse.

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