Friday, November 19, 2010

Noise Procession

A procession of noises no matter what I do; plug my ears with my fingers usually works as the last resort, but lo, if there isn't a loud noise at the ready the instant I remove my fingers to attenuate the first noise. Even the earmuffs aren't helping as much as they could be, and of course there is the endemic ear-ringing, telekinetic mouth and neck noises that erupt, and now, ear popping from nowhere too.

The perps have been extra insane today, as they made no bones about being assholes by having yoga cancelled, and put me through 20 to 30 screaming rage-ifications while making lunch today. Then another round at this LCD display with disappearing files that could not be seen either in Writer or Open Office where they are created.

They put on extra Fuckwits for a brief sortie outside to the local supermarket. A wall of dudes, three abreast in two ranks, one behind the other, who seemed to have no legit purpose to be swarming the streets at 1130h just when I turned the corner after exiting this apartment building when outbound. Like WTF; no convention facilities nearby on this block, and no businesses, so who were all these fuckers, and especially the red-coat in the middle of the pack. Stick with blonde babes if you want to arrange these "wall of Fuckwits" you sick assholes.

Then the vagrants doing their meandering bullshit just at the sidewalk constriction, forcing me around and then over top of the recent bird shit that had been arranged on the sidewalk. The same Fuckwits were in place when I exited the store as well, covering a whole 40' over 8 minutes while I was inside. Then other dudes kept covering me at different locations, them and their stocking/stalking carts with lots of brown boxes on it, and the fucker doing senseless back and forths to keep me covered while in the checkout line. And it was a Chicken Run, the acquisition of hot cooked chicken is always a big perp scene, ever since they put me on this diet in 2003. (I get my once per week red meat feed at my perp abetting mother's place).

Then the resident disgusting overweight negro emanated from the elevator on my way back inside, wearing shades for crissakes. They backed off on live negro gangstalking this week, and he was the first of the week. Naturally, I get plenty of negro pics on the web sites I visit, and often the same pic will be persistently kept in place on a news site, when these stories should be turning over every day, or few days. But no, the assholes decided that I need to see more, and so it goes. Even that 1100pp. catalog I got yesterday, totally free from an outfit from whom I purchased the $20 Kevlar gloves from, put a negro on the front cover. I never knew that such large catalogs were being printed any more, but I suppose the perps would want to keep some of those industries going as they get so much out of me turning the pages; color combinations, incremental paper thickness games, and of course, their abidding interest in having me exposed to paper from all over the world in varying vintages and paper types. I can always count on a paper bearing Fuckwit within two minutes of stepping outside, assuming they didn't fuck me into carrying some around myself.

And today's fuckery over financial transactions was to fuck me into using the wrong card, and of course they don't let me know that at first, going through with the transaction until the approval stage, and lo, if it didn't work, and then I was reminded of the debit card I have used every fucking day since 2002. Eight years of using this same color debit card for all my purchases, and "somehow" I got it wrong and used my Mastercard "by mistake". I don't ever make those mistakes, and haven't once before, and suddenly it "happens" today. And have I mentioned all the times that my financial transactions are held up by flakey card readers and other fuckery? At least twice a week, and this was in keeping with the insane perp harassment of making a financial transaction, which they have been totally consistent over for eight years of this depraved abuse. And justice won't be done until I take a bat to the head of the Fucker who screwed me over my use of my debit card today.

Other perp excitement today might of been over the inaugural use of a jar of coconut butter; opening up new jars or any other packaging type is a scene of intense perp interest, and they got me rage-fied for that too, one of my breakfast staples. This jar is the second of two that was purchased while I was on my road trip in October, visiting my out-of-town brother and family. I bought two as the perps only have this at stores that are less accessible, and my sister-in-law bought one at my instignation, and lo, if the store wasn't covered in gangstalking scum.

The Zalman USB 3 docking station continues to thwart rational analysis; it isn't seen in the file manager, and the drive isn't recognized. But a pop-up window said to use USB 3 port, as it is plugged into a USB 2 port because I am testing what the fuck is going on. Somehow, there is part of the PC knows what this is, but won't tell another; fucking bizarre, and good for moving hard drives around in two orientations, a constant game of fuckery the assholes like to play with, having hard drives in differing orientations. Then the assholes reminded me that they installed an important file on one of the drives, all my Quicken work since 2005. In another piece of fuckery, in concert with that fucking clunky Quicken, the one file ended up as the backup, and of course, it is the one file I don't want overwritten. So... the hard drives go back in the PC until I find out where these files are and copy them off to another drive. Which suggests the fuckers had this set up some months ago, as that is when I got the Quicken 2010 version, and lo, if it isn't as clunky/stupid as Quicken 2002.

I lost my Quicken backups, a total mind-fuck in that I didn't think of it before I pulled the hard drive out. The Windows world of installing a hard drive is so fucking fraught to say the least. And all the while this hassle is going on, why, more noise. Clunking and sirens again, both getting through the earmuffs. The bullshit never ends it seems. And why are backups so fascinating for the assholes?

More fuckery like fake touches and pulling items from my grasp to start up the rage-ifcation show again, before, during and after the tea and chocolate break. Fucking tiresome to say the least, as they have been riling me up all day. Big excitement tomorow when I head out to the in-town brother's place to rake leaves. So exciting in fact that he phoned up just as I was intently looking at the online details of the Beatles mono CD set. Those intense interest moments are of significant interest to the perps, likely because they haven't been able to remotely fuck me to that level yet.

Job searching and responding. This next year will be fish or cut bait; off-on agricultural labor work or IT work, per training this year, but without any IT activity since. In other words, were all those courses I took in Oracle 11g just a cruel joke for perp reasons, or is there going to be a legitimate career path? I don't know, but what I sense from the past, is that they like to have me exposed to certain work, and then doggedly obstruct me so I don't get a job for the training I took. One example was in 1989-90 when I took a full term Geographic Information Systems training for one year, and then when I got back to work, no GIS work ever materialized, my employer being in a state of permanent ineptitude (for 10 years, at any rate) about embarking on this corporate information need. Therefore, I became an Oracle DBMS data analyst and project manager. So it just may be that the assholes wanted me to take Oracle 11g courses as one of their exposure games, and then they put the lid on me and wouldn't let me study for certification exams. Just one more example of the insane fuckery that goes on and the extent and planning they engage in.

Blogging off to do leaf raking tomorrow; more of those horticultural jobs for my mind-keepers.


Anonymous said...

It must be great to be part of the organized stalking team. Really. Requires no brains, and they get to see someone far stronger intellectually and physically go down. I swear, these perps and gangstalkers alike need to go back to the drawing board, learn about the birds and bees, and go get laid or something instead of engaging in this totally fruitless activity. 3 girls and 2 boys came in last night just to perform a harassment skit. Interesting that their mutual friend just died in a car accident less than 2 days earlier, and what to they do? They come into the place I eat out all the time, and perform a harassment skit. Yeah, they must really be grieving their hearts out. I guess that's what us TI's are for: to provide a release for all these losers and people who have lost someone close to them.

Interesting how brazen these 3 girls were. I'm sure the assholes scripted the entire scenario. No doubt the 2 boys were there to protect them in case I "lost it" and attacked the loser harasser girl. What's wrong with these people?

Then, another former student just happened to see me walking down the street at 0100AM. The perps had me pissed again, so of course I went back out to blow off steam. This former student claims he just got off work, and asked for my cell number. He said he was going to call me and give me his email, so I could email him my resume. Allegedly, he works for this company 45 minutes away. What he was saying seemed oddly tied to what the 3 girls were saying in their directed conversation. Probably just yet another lame attempt to get my cell, which I had to change, because gangstalkers were conning me into giving it to them, and I had to have it changed. The assholes love gangstalkers to make frequent contact with us TI's. According to his (possible fake cover) story, he could give my resume to someone in the company. But now I feel he is lying, and it was just a lame way of getting me to talk to someone.

AJH said...

I don't know what motivates the perps as to joining or participating in gangstalking or abusing TI's. I just take the position they are all fucking feckless and insane quislings and leave it to that. (Though for fact, I do know a number of them from my college and swim club days, as well as my last most career in forestry, and none of them fit my assigned description of them).

As for street-side encounters; the perps like TI's to vocalize at certain junctures, so any dipshit question will do, like "what is the time?"

As for the happy babes when they should of been more somber; I wonder if these stories of demise, of a colleague of theirs, are true. And again, they can, and will, mindfuck their operatives to behave in inordinant ways. In 2003 when I was still in the high harassment days, my then-girlfriend's (aka, leading perp operative) mother died and I went down to Everett to see her and attend the funeral. Big sobs and all that, as well as me being supportive and understanding. But because this trip into the US occured between refusals for admission both before and afterward, the timing of this funeral did raise the question as to whether it was all fake. I still don't know for sure, but it was just too conveniently arranged with other things I had to do then and how the bullshit unfolded after that. (On the next trip to the US to clean out my apartment, the border guards pulled their guns on me for no reason whatsoever, just to send me back and then have me arrange moving over the phone and with my parents going down to supervise it. Then later, a happenchance "friend" to take a truck to retrieve it all. A momentous hassle, all of 2002 to 2003.) But there is something about the concept of death that the perps want to extract from us TI's, as the term is often noisetalked or from other simultaneous phenomenon or gangstalker throat clearing or the like. Thanks for the comments.