Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Wood Chopping and Hauling

Some dozing off at this here PC before I got into file cleanup that somehow recusitated me. There has been a serial succession of mid-afternoon naps this week, and I was expecting another. As always, the perps like to fake me out, bait and switch just when one is commited to an activity.

This is the first full day with my old eyeglasses on, and I should of known better (read, was mind-fucked) as such opportunities (as they see them) don't come very often. They had me  twice in the last 18 months with my old glasses on, getting them repaired and/or custom modified with the cable temples. That was the job that went way wrong for unknown reasons, as they cut the eyeglasses temples a whole inch short and they had to be sent back for an insertion of a differing metal in the temple to lengthen it. This time, the new temples should not be messed with, but as always, fuck-ups are a dime a dozen. Call it the FUD-ed, (Fear Uncertainty and Doubt) treatment.

And I am sure it was no coincidence with the old eyeglasses on that they wanted me to handle and deliver the firewood to my MS friend, confined to a wheelchair by his condition. He was a former work colleague, and I first met him back in 1974 when working in the woods on forestry surveys. He is the only person I know burning wood for heating, and this past spring's garden work at the First Feral Family home meant that two short trees had to come down. Regular readers will recall that both chainsaws eventually died, so I couldn't get it all cut. The firewood sized pieces dried over the spring and summer, and had to be removed due to a vinyl greenhouse like structure to be placed over where the firewood was stored.

Don't ask me why the perps think exposing me to firewood and all other wood products is so important,  but it is. First I split some of the larger pieces, the first time I have used an axe in over 15 years, mostly due to the fact that the axes just "showed up" in the last month. At each end of the firewood packing trip, there was extra loitering activity. At the FFF home, the postman "happened" to arrive just as I finished loading my mother's vehicle, and started up some bullshit banter as to how long we lived there, saying something like, "moving the old man's wood pile?" I cannot recall what I said, though it should of been something about his landscaping disasters, as these trees were up against a fence. Anyhow, he was bantering when my mother came by, ostensibly thinking I was talking to her, so I had both of them standing over me while I was tending to the last of the firewood.

At the recipient's end, the caregiver and wife helped me out to get the firewood stored out of the rain. So she was also party to viewing the firewood in the vehicle as I had packed it.

The blonde (Favored) was at the bus stop this morning when outbound, a welcome relief from the freaks and weirds that usually populate the particular downtown bus stop when I happen to go there. After boarding the bus, she sat down on the outside periphery of the three dudes (Unfavaored), with me at the rear passenger side of the bus. This scenario got changed out for Asians who came on board, and then another change out when I got to suburbia; the stop before mine had an Asian man getting off at the rear doors, and a young Asian woman getting on at the front, who sat halfway back. I ring the bell for the next stop and then position myself at the rear door for when it gets to my stop. And lo, if they young Asian woman didn't get up, walk behind me and then sit down in the very seat I had just vacated. I give her a "are you fucking nuts/" look, and she smirks at me. Very funny that, as in NOT. I haven't seen anything quite so fucking blatant as this before, the assholes sitting on my just-vacated seat, as they usually keep their sicko musical seat games to themselves, e.g. past mentioned negroes swapping seats on the bus.

And on the forced nuttiness scale, the perps are ramping it up, and have me do a sub-audible running commentary on their gangstalker routines and color exposure games. I repeat, I have never done this before, so why is it suddenly happening as the gangstalking intensity/inanity is roughly the same? And it would seem the next logical escalation of this imposed mental fuckery would be then to make the commentary audible. No fucking way will I accept any imposition as to making running comments like what is going on or any other worsening of this latest mental incursion.

Other bullshit this morning when I stepped out was some six dudes clustered in a loose string in front of the lobby doors. A long haired dude seems to be getting a whole lot of exposure time, batting some .500 in or near the lobby these days. Then the overpopulation of the sidewalks, all these Fuckwits running about at 0900h, it didn't add up. And even my old time gangstalker nemesis (since 2002), Passport Tosser "happened" to be passing by, still in semi-vagrant dress. This was the Fuckwit who posed as a natty businessman on one of his many incarnations, and threw his passport at the feet of the immigration inspector. Fucking bizarre, and it seems that the sickos want me to notice that kind of behavior, even now. Passport Tosser must be hittiing some 18 exposures in the eight years of harassment, or at least, those are when I can postitively identify him. He has done a business man, hospital patient (2x), total vagrant and semi-vagrant incarnations so far in his appearances. A most strange set of roles to be sure, and I am sure this particular Fuckwit has more mileage yet.

And what is it about these oncoming left hand pedestrians walking in my path all the time now, three in one block? In North America we are in right hand drive, walking ahead on the right, and yet one after another, these Fuckwits are coming straight at me when on the sidewalk when there is plenty of room on the sidewalk.

The elevator repair shenanigans continue; when I got back they were repairing the W elevator when it had been the E. elevator that was out of service for the past week, the W elevator out of service for some four weeks prior to that. So WTF? Did they fix the E elevator and then decide to shut down the W elevator again for repairs again? Stay tuned, as it seems that the assholes cannot get enough elevator shut down time in. Elevator shut down games have followed me for al the places that I have lived in since 2004, not to mention the strange cast of characters that "happen" to be there when it arrives. For the most part, I have been taking the stairwell to egress the building, and I am sure that will mature into more games and stunts as this insane Fuckover progresses.

Vacuuming in the hallway just erupted; it seems that these are important implements of the harassment/experimentation fuckery, though always used judiciously it seems. One past apartment, which seemed mostly empty, I had them vacuuming 6x per week, most often when I was in the hallway, heading out or coming back. This afternoon, mostly a sit-around time, seems to be an important part of the game, perhaps getting me back to an energetic state after this morning's excursions.

I finished reading Nemesis: The True Story of Aristotle Onassis, Jackie O, and the Love Triangle That Brought Down the Kennedys last night. An awsome read, and an insight on how the sheeple are meant to be kept in the dark as to the machinations of the rich and famous, including politicians.

Which is partly why yesterday's blog posting got truncated so abruptly; I couldn't get text to put below the pictures that I had included.

More outside vehicle noise as I had chocolate and tea. Ditto for this afternoon, and the identical noises erupted yesterday in the same circumstances. But they did pull a fast one with one chocolate square left to go; someone knocked on my door, I got up (chewed chocolate in my mouth), and asked through the door who it was, and was supplied a name I didn't know. I said I didn't know such a person, and they made out that they were on the wrong floor. All to get me to cross a whole 10' with the chocolate in my mouth and one piece remaining on the plate. That is how it is these days, the assholes focussing on infitesimal levels of detail.(For those who haven't read the introductory postings and are unaware of my managed state as a TI, there is nothing in my life that isn't managed down to the microsecond, and it is very likely been like that since birth. Dudes at the door and the "sorry" bullshit are all about disruption at key Fuckover moments.)

Enough of blogging for today, and likely more garden work to do for keeping this bullshit show afloat.

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