Saturday, November 27, 2010

Mail Button Obstruction

After a ringing cursing at the sickos for turning off my PC when I thought I would be booting into my Windows account (by turning the PC off), the Fuckers are still at it by blocking my access to my email after one item was looked at. "Somehow", it hung on going back to the last page, and so I might have to shut that web-application down. Just more examples of the petty and abusive insanity (theirs) that I get exposed to all day long.

A late afternoon, ~1630h, nap attack earlier, 1.5 hours worth, and awakening with the sound of repeated on-off use of a seeming noisy faucet by the putative neighbor. No one in their right mind would operate a faucet this way, but as this noise and the on-off nature of it seems to be so important to the perps for the last few months, I wasn't too surprised it would erupt during the transition from horizontal to vertical. And of late, the perps have been adding a squeaky noise component in with the faux faucet noise, as if the putative faucets suddenly got tight or whatever conventional reasons there may be. And ditto for the overhead rumbling noise, it has also developed a squeaky component, as if it were some very large wheeled safe being randomly trundled around on a smooth floor upstairs. One of those No Ostensible Cause (NOC) noises that is patently absurd, never mind the fact that it can arrive overhead no matter where I am, and that the putative safe gets to ride on a smooth floor when they are all carpeted, kitchen and bathroom excepted. Besides, who would be pushing a safe around their apartment in the first place? I do get the in-street pallet jack dudes, ones pushing a large steel device on wheels that lifts pallets up to transport them, a "ground hugging" object, not unlike the legions of wheeled luggage totes and grocery hampers that have erupted in my proximity in the last 8.5 years of this insane abuse stream.

It was a First Feral Family visitation and drive-around adventure this morning after getting up early to apply online for a few jobs. My perp-abetting mother claiming residual snow and wet conditions as well as the many stops as the reason she couldn't do the driving herself. And were they ever ready for gangstalking. Ready, as in props and partial road closures, though there were plenty of Unfavored Fuckwits loitering about. The even had deep green grafitti on the bus next to my seat as part of their green color fixation, and later accompaniment by same deep green colored vehicle, four at a glance at one point. The real story was the boom trucks, the ones typically used for high overhead maintenance work, on power poles and the like. There were two white boom trucks at the crest of Sinclair hill, constricting traffic for one flag person controlled egress. The booms were white with some yellow on them, and it seemed like it was a big powerline upgrade in progress. Then, at the bottom of the hill, why three clustered boom trucks with samed colored white and yellow booms, but the truck bodies in an insipid green color. They blocked egress to one side of the road that led to this shopping center, so I took an alternate route to then end up parking just below them, parking seemingly busy. We go inside the specialty grocery store to order a turkey for Christmas, and lo, at the rear of the store where the meat section is, why, a 12' yellow (same as boom truck yellow) fiberglass stringered stepladder is set up in the aisle, and right behind us. At first some dude was up the ladder, and he later disappeared. So.... here we have three similar colored props of two kinds (boom trucks, tall ladder), with personnel raised above me in each case, tracking me from hill top, to hill bottom and into the adjacent store. And if I manage to exert some effort tonight, and piss with the missing icons in Blogspot, I will put a picture in that shows an example of the boom trucks, which are considerably more frequent, by an order of magnitude compared to pre-overt harassment onset in 2002. There is something very important for the perps to discover about me that is elevated, above me, and I would suggest that this summer's close-in tracking me with helicopters and some other odd low flying aircraft is all part of these elevation related enegetic interaction parameters they appear to be researching.

I also had to suffer a supermarket shopping excursion with my mother and the host of freaks of the Unfavored Fuckwits, aka gangstalkers. There was the do-rag dude, the overtall cafe-au-lait negro, the deep green anorak (teflon membrane) and a few more that kept repeatedly buzzing by (5x at least per Fuckwit Freak) and loitering doing pretend shopping. Plus the kiddie detail; old enough to be in school, this a Friday, and here they were in on the gangstalking act again. Then the insufferable slow-down at the checkout too, as they have me spoiled with the usually fast throughput of the local supermarket I use. And then there was the plastic bag blunderer act; a 60's old man in white hair and a black ball cap (sign of the Fuckwits it seems) who "happened" to be totally unaware of the fact that the 7' suspended roll of plastic bags for produce was trailing a fluttering plastic bag on his hat, and he kept moving while under it, pretending that he hadn't noticed this minor choreography. He clears out, and my mother wanders down to the same location, and pulls a bag from the same roll, the one that he had blundered into, and tears it off and uses it for one of her produce items. In effect, a "pre-touched" and "pre-conditioned" plastic bag by way of someone walking into it with their black ball cap and the rest of their energetic being. And lo, if the same Fuckwit didn't reprise himself near the checkout, his second featuring, unlike the other Freaks who kept hounding me aisle after aisle. Anyhow, outside to a sudden car alarm going off that noisetracked me past the pair gossiping at the sidewalk constriction, whom I had to pass 2x more to get the shopping basket returned, and to loading the groceries, returning the shopping basket, returning to the vehicle and when inside. This noise eruption at many of the key moments the perps like to heavily gangstalk; building egress, vehicle egress, and having me do an extra back and forth for returning the shopping cart with the aforementioned gangstalkers in place.

The city bus freakshow was in full complement, putting at least 40 Fuckwits on for the event, for a 1438h bus from suburbia to downtown on a Friday. Give me a break; the previous bus was 15 min. sooner at least and would of picked up most of the passengers, yet "somehow" this ridiculous amount of passengers is heading to downtown in mid-afternoon on a Friday. I had three of them at the bus stop in suburbia, and it just kept getting stuffed with the gangstalkers. The freaking baggy shorts in winter no less, on this 270lb dude was next to me with a T-shirt (this is PNW winter don't forget) to show of his tattoos, an ongoing Unfavored item the perps like me to see and otherwise be exposed to.

Another dude, though non-freakish, was on the cell phone the entire time, and angling to get into my lap it seemed, slouching down low and leaning back in the transverse seat in front of me. One knee to the head wouldn't of been too difficult, though the perps have a way of foiling one's physical intentions, even in mid action. I had other dudes from the older loitering male class also seated a little further away, sporting the red hat bullshit again. And what is with all these elder ballcap waring Fuckwits all over the place, now worse than shorts in winter? But for once they didn't assign a tail on me when exiting the bus, or at least, not in the direction that I was headed.

I did have my police emergency light show on one block further; a burgundy VW camper van (called a Westfalia here) "happened" to be stopped in mid street with the police cruiser behind it and the blue and red lights flashing. Like WTF; who in a Westfalia is worth pulling over? But as these VW camper vans are gangstalking favorites as their engine is rearmost, behind the rear axle, the engine is spinning the opposite direction if viewed from the side. Or, at least, that is my theory on why they like to gangstalk with this vehicle, and yes, I did own two such VW vans, serial acquisitions and with much financial pain and grief as they were so breakdown prone. The final straw was replacing parts on them that were still under warranty, and of course, paying the mechanic the time to pull out the part and get the new one put in. I swore I would never purchase another VW, and haven't since. Even if the underpowered VW vans are no longer manufacturered.

Pissing around with paying bills, always a perp need, which was preceded by the usual crap-gone-wrong; three plungings and a shower to clean up is all I will divulge, the reality being much more fraught. They have done something like thin 99.9% of the time they script a crap, and often it is before or after my month-end Quicken accounting reconciliation. Go figure, but colors are important enough to script negro gangstalkers (read, brown) loitering around when I visit the ATM, or when my in-town brother got a $2700 pay out for his auction items.

The Quicken file got lost in the shuffle of the back up files being reworked to be on the new backup disc pair, and the most recent manual backups were in August, so I had to re-enter all my renaming rules to ensure the mangled bank debit card payees mapped to my readable Quicken names. As usual, more adversity with the infernal Quicken application, as its clunkiness is exploited to create further problems in what is being described in the pop-up boxes as well as each listed item. I was ready to toss Quicken about 09-2010, but because the downloading was different, I had to upgrade instead to keep my files readable and all the financial history back to 2005 when I was allowed to resume it again. They had me kill my hard drive in 2002 as part of the overt harassment onset, losing everything, by way of planted paranoia as to who was fucking and for what reason. Eventually I rebuilt with a new hard drive and resumed Quicken use, and even had it running on my Palm Pilot so the mobile device could synchronize with the Quicken records on the PC. I had my financial records up to date, by the day and item with my trusty Palm Pilot. That all changed of course, as in 2002 they broke two Palm Pilots, eventually getting a third that then had indeterminate battery problems that Sony fixed for $70. Then when fixed, masers were firing out of the Palm Pilot, and so I gave it up, and I have never been so "connected" since then, which is different now, as the organizer (PDA, Personal Digital Assistant) has now become the so-called "smart phone", and the world of apps that it brings. So no, I don't have a "smart phone" of any kind, and don't expect to get one, though in all likelihood, the assholes will build up my "need" to then get aligned with the rest of the connected world to then emulate and defeat what transactionsand cognitive functions that maybe associated with these devices. Not for some time yet it would seem.

The assholes have a number of items that were "needed", per planted notions, that have never been used, in keeping with their strategy of having important (to them) items "lie fallow", that is, not be used for a time. Of note are the steel toed boots acquired in 09-2008, and the measuring cups and spoons for cooking, acquired in 04-2010. There are others, but they like to remind me that these are for future use, and it sure gets fucking tedious to know that there are grand plans that have not yet been exercised. Like most TI's, I am fed up, and want to be told what the next gig is, how much it pays, how much I get to save, and how much torture it is. Better yet, I want to be left alone, and don't see why what I like or dislike, aka the Favored and the Unfavored, is a full time exposition for thousands of abusive and pandering Fuckwits who are traitorous quislings in need of the namesake's end.

Enough ranting and on with what I expect to be a slow Saturday, the worst day of the week as a rule.


Anonymous said...

I visited with the family down in another state south of us. I was surprised to see the same type of bullshit down there, with little to no variance. When I returned back home, one perp/sweetie asked me "Did you go to work today?", which seemed like an enragement tactic, because I already told her I was visiting with the family all week. So how could I have been "at work"? Or maybe she could be telling me she wants me to get a job down there in the state where my relatives live?

Also, I get the school-aged kids used in gangstalking duty. When I was in Wal Mart, eating at the Subway, I could see school-aged kids, like elementary to junior-high aged, walking past. And of course, they placed a
highly unfavored fuckwit walking along the road when I was on my way out of town and onto the highway, in the same direction of my car's travel. When I arrived back in town 3 days later, why then I was greeted with favored fuckwits this time in my hometown, instead of the usual unfavored.

I asked my "sweetie" if someone has been scripting her conversations, because, as I explained, it seemed I was getting the same bullshit but by different people over the years. Her reaction to her saying things from a perp-script: "WHAT?!" followed by some surprise and she also seemed to be scared.

AJH said...

Answer to: I visited with the family...

There is the "dumb fuck" factor too I find, where inane and perverse questions get asked, as if the person never heard what you said, re; travelling to meet family. Normally women are highly attuned to family events and the who, where and what was said. So the "sweetie" played dumb IMHO, a long standing perp tactic I deal with weekly. Then the "what" thing too, an extension of the play-dumb act, all to have the TI repeat his/her utterance when it was both appropriately concise and loud enough to be heard. My perp abetting parent would pull this one, saying "what?" for the second time as I was repeating what I said after the first "what?", thereby fucking it all up to force a third repeat. Eventually I would say, "you heard me the first time" and they would go silent, suddenly not diverting their attention for no seeming reason by not seeming to want a repetition of what was initially said. I called that game "what what", though thankfully my father has taken his dementia act to the old folks home, and I have less of this bullshit to contend with. Now, it is just fragmentary babble, often he manages to repeat some of his stock phrases to get my attention, such as it would in childhood. Anyhow, all this is scripted to the microsecond I have come to find, and therefore I am less willing to engage in any conversations with the perp-abetting First Feral Family. Thanks for the comments.