Friday, October 22, 2010

Coffee Bean Grinding Games

Went to the local supermarket for some items I was intimidated out of purchasing the day before, the gangstalker games behind every aisle corner being the most obvious. And it was the day to get coffee, ground up on the in-store machine because the assholes have choked down all lines of coffee to have only beans. I bought ground coffee all the time for the first 4 years of this abuse, and then suddenly there was no more to be had in any line.  And it being a "brown moment", all the coffee beans and then grounds passing down into the bag below, I get plenty of gangstalker action tied to this machine for the three minutes it takes. It is so ridiculous, all these Fuckwits doing their entrances and exits breaking all around me while the coffee beans are ground. And lo, if the fucking coffee grinder machine didn't inexplicably stop grinding the beans today, leaving a quarter of them in the machine. The motor kept running but the beans didn't go through. The cashiers at the checkout seemed only mildly concerned, and didn't give me a discount because their machine fucked up, but said to track down a store assistant while at the machine. Like WTF; I am fed up of dealing with imposed situations going wrong, and what difference would it make anyhow? If the sickos want to keep some brown colored "souveniers" from my coffee beans, they will do exactly that no matter who is around. But I suppose they want me to engage with others more often, no matter how futile the exercise will be. And too, that it be with dudes, an Unfavored demographic and a predominant part of the gangstalking scene these days. Call it the "dude redemption" from traumatization associations encountered when they seemed to be doing nasty things to me when aged up to 5 y.o. and blanked out my recall, but couldn't fuck me out of my subconscious recollections. Which, if you are a regular reader, will know that much (but not all) of the gangstalking scene is to emulate situations or colors related to these traumatization events. I say, fuck them, I don't need to be remediated by anyone for anything, just leave me the fuck alone, and that includes not messing with my employment prospects after screwing me out of my usual livelihood for the past 8 years with this disability bullshit. All so I can afford a coffee grinder and avoid this insane parade of animated Fuckwits coursing around me while captive to the store's coffee grinder, when it works that is.

I had my lobby posse again when outbound (same as yesterday); the white jacketedd Scottish cleaning woman in the spiky hair (three Unfavoreds; white clothes, odd hair and Scottish), the manager and his ridiculous ball cap over his eyebrows, and a few others in his office. Then on the way there, a triple vagrant show with two blue plastic shopping carts, with one wandering off when I passed by to alleviate the sidewalk obstruction. Said faux vagrants were still there on my inbound trip, something I don't normally see as they have this demographic subset of Unfavored Fuckwits move along with their carts and plastic bags.

And on my return, another loafing male on the couch in the lobby, replacing the foursome that were there when outbound. This time it was the geriatric male loafing, (three Unfavoreds), and the dumbshit ball caps don't help either, though I don't know if this is a traumatization association or if it is to change their energetic properties, as I understand that there is much energy emanating from one's eyes, and the ball cap prop may direct it so it can be easily detected by remote means.

Another featured gangstalker theme of late is the negro act, this time on the opposite sidewalk and wearing red with a red ball cap.

A nut shave last night, the first in three weeks, and with a new blade, so that might be the reason the assholes have pumped up the gangstalking abuse and covering me each moment I exit or enter a building, including the supermarket.

On to yoga, and to see what is going down, as two weeks ago, there was a last minute cancellation with no prior phone call, (the agreed upon arrangement from the organizer), and a new (to me) co-instructor. I haven't been to yoga since June, so no doubt this is a big deal for the assholes; re-establishing routines, coming back from a road trip as well, and a nut shave last night. The perfect confluence of dumbassed games they like to play.

I wonder what will be the nutter/gangstalker count this time.

The overhead tapping noise has started up after reading an etiquette story, should one put a "no stiletto heels" in the invite to a house warming party. Now, the overhead drilling noise has started up. As always, these are supposed to be carpet covered concrete floors in this building, and so it remains mighty curious as to why this noise starts up,and why they need to access bare concrete under the carpet so often. Last week, before I left for the road trip, they put on the concrete ceiling/above floor tapping noise before I went outside, and then kept it going while I went down the stairs to the outside stairwell to drop off the recycle garbage into its specialized bins, and then kept up the noise when taking the elevator back up to this sixth floor apartment. And no cover story of tradesmen wandering around with drills or even a trades van outside or the usual accouterments of building maintenance workers. Not even the usual ladder, something they don't usually forgo.Like I have said, I live a totally scripted life, right down to the last pin drop noise, regardless as to whether it is in context or not or any causal source.

The overhead tapping noise is covering me for my clothing change into yoga gear, and if this is really important, down the stairwell too.

Yoga was a little odd, in that the batty woman was there talking to herself and kept it up when I arrived, and then slipped in a question to me in this dialog without directly addressing me. Very clever that, as the perps go to no end of lengths to discern the moment when I am being spoken to, versus inconsequential babbling that is dismissed out of hand. "Naturally", my father's faux dementia serves as a ruse for these games as well, as he "happens" to get it right sometimes, saying something relevant that arises from the dismissive background babble. The number of times that I detect relevant verbal dialog that gets suddenly noisestalked is uncountable; suffice to say the mere act of cognitively detecting something relevant is a HUGE DEAL for the assholes, and they have kept this up for over eight years of this insane abuse.

And the new-to-me instructor was there today; tall blonde, attractive with funky glasses on that she later took off, almost like a blonde Hilary Swank. And her having a orange sweater over a red shirt, bringing clashing hot colors together was straight out of the perp instruction manual. But she was pleasant, efficient and even personable by the end of the class. Some instructors seem totally shell shocked to meet me in person. And lo, if the loitering dudes outside after the end of class weren't wearing the same fugly orange. The perps have been all over me with orange colors of late, likely stemming from yesterday's Chicken Run, when I purchase cooked chicken with orange barbeque sauce on it. (No other choice as to cooked chicken). And when on the way back, an orange jacketed Fuckwit male was loitering at the front door, and then a blonde woman came and walked between us.

With only us two class members the new instructor seemed to want to mention the guy names out loud for no other reason. It is all about elicitations it seems, and all the better if it is an Unfavored person. Like WTF; if they come, so what; get on with the class for those that are there rather that this name dropping bullshit which I get in spades. But as it "happened", no other students came, and there was talk of the class being cancelled due to low attendance, something they told me last time I when I went to the class that was cancelled without prior notice. So the talk is on, the yoga class may get cancelled soon.

I had my usual extra scummy gangstalkers when coming back from yoga; they cannot get enough scummy dudes in it seems, often hiding a babe behind the front rank of these Fuckwits who take pains to look extra stupid.

That is it for today, also getting totally screwed out of going to the First Feral Family home this afternoon, as this was my intention, to get the compost pile built before the rain comes on. The assholes didn't let me know it was "forgotten" until dinner time. A fucking piss off that I am not allowed to effect my own intentions.

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