Wednesday, December 01, 2010

Dudes on the Roof

No seeming sleep last night, in keeping with the extension of whatever gains they attain on a Monday, whatever that means to the assholes. A fire truck and siren cascade to greet me outside when having breakfast, as seen in the kitchen window below on the street. Having that big yellow and white fire truck seems to be a big deal, as they have presented it at least 60x or more, and it was still dim out at 0700h. The lighting and how the color is portrayed is all important, and too, that it was seen through a double pane window.

A leaf raking gjob at my in-town brother's place today, his place on a hillside with about 25' difference in elevation, not counting a two story house. He can see onto the rooftops of his downhill neighbors, and I have done at least 20 such visitations in the last two years when this leaf raking duty became my wintertime quasi-employment to keep me out of the red, only just. While leaf raking, just as at my mother's place, the noisescape ramps up while I am outside; STRATCOM bomber noise overhead, Helijet Airways route re-direction, and last but not least, the hotrod and loud mufflered vehicle noises. But today, the assholes put on something special; two dudes appearing to do gutter cleaning work for two hours this morning, effectively level to me across the property line, some 60' away or so. Like WTF; why is it that some asshole covert agency needs me to see and hear yapping dudes for two hours walking on the roof even, not just gutter cleaning, especially when I am in a backyard and am not typically able to see this over the high fences and the respective propery elevations. So they put them on the freaking roof for me to see.

That wasn't the start of the excitement though; when about to exit my apartment, I had my tail ahead of me in the stairway and I decided to take the elevator instead, and the door opens for an upbound elevator and this E. Indian in a tan brown duffel coat exits with a red plastic cladded room fan, the ones they typically use for airing out fresh interior drywall jobs. I am still waiting for a down bound elevator and then the asshole cruises within 2" of me when there was 12" of room at least on the other side of the hall, and is mumbling about the seventh floor and somehow figures it out that he is on the sixth floor, and then backtracks in front of me to get the still-open elevator that was inordinantly slow to close its doors, and then swearing and going on about what floor he was on, and then while I was kept in spectator mode, the perps suddenly charge me with telling him that he was on the sixth floor to get it through to him. The door closes and off he goes.

Then the down elevator arrives with the Scottish woman manager as it turns out, as she had been standing around in the lobby with the cleaning cart and originally I thought she was the cleaner. And lo, if she doesn't have fresh purple highlights on her 2" spiky hair just be revolting (read, Unfavored unnatural hair colors), and then the elevator goes into a slow mode with barely perceptble motion. The mock panic talk starts, as in being kept captive in the elevator and that the phone cabinet door is screwed down and unavailible. At one point she grabs my arm in mock distress, as there is so much dwell time on each floor, as represented by the overhead light panel. More discussion on what to do with this elevator and finally it slowly descends to the lobby and the doors open. And what do I get to see? Why yesterday's rasti-dreadlock male negro again, staring right at me as I exit. (Three Unfavoreds; male, negro, dreadlocks). He too dressed in a freaking tan duffel coat. Anyhow, I get out of the lobby and onto the street to join my gangstalking fray on the sidewalks and to the bus stop in the next block. I have my freaks preceding me; waddling and oversized males, skinhead males, shiftless semi-vagrant males and the like. The #6 bus comes, this at about 0930h, and the freaking thing is almost full. I get a seat on the rear bench seat at the back, in the middle. The bus goes one more block into downtown and then 90% of them get off the bus. Like WTF; too early for shopping (starts at 1000h), not seeming to be working types, so who were all these people and why was this bus so overpopulated when it never has half that many on a weekday morning at that time? Don't know, and chalk it up to the ongoing totally orchestrated world I exist in.

Then after two hours of leaf raking, the excavator digging job starts up in front of my brother's place, giving me some of that excavator noise and hydraulic activity, as well as the metal scraping noise of the bucket. There is a community infrastructure job some few hundred feet from my brother's place, and for the prior two leaf rakings the same noise was in the background, fading a little each time as they progressively worked along a right of way. So it would seem the perps needed me to hear, and energetically interact with, (I am assuming this, as I am contained in a over 1600 Gauss magnetic field at all times), a local excavator they decided to place outside my brother's place while there. And too, all the backup beeper noise from the associated gravel trucks, a very regular noise that I get in my apartment all day long, often every 10 minutes or less.

Later in the day, after lunch, the excavator was on noise copying duty; I would make a scraping sound with the metal tined rake on the concrete surface, and it would make a near identical noise some 10 millisecond delayed, by scraping the bucket on a hard surface. There were at least two more similar emulations of differing noises in the next half hour.

Anyhow, it seems my in-town brother's Thai girlfriend is still in bedroom dwelling mode, not getting out and being seen even, just like the last two visitations. All too wierd to say the least, and that he puts up with it. And said brother is now driving her red Toyota Camry, so I can imagine that will bring extra perp research to bear as they have so many gangstalkers getting in and out of vehicles or opening the trunk that the vehicle-person-vehicle color association seems to be a big deal for them. I reckon this is an advance of perp methods, "graduating from" silver grey and white vehicles of his, to a deep red metallic colored vehicle. It had been parked in his carport for the last two months, seeming unused, and now he is dispatched to use this red colored vehicle, and to ensure he visits me in the backyard after having driven it. All too mysterious, and all too predictable, going up the color chart as it were, off the greyscale vehicle colors.

More music ripping tonight, as much as I loathe the term; "copy and compress" for this linguistically challenged writer is what I would prefer. Songbird is the official permitted player, and being open source, that means open sabotage. I am getting some major metadata translation problems, after grooming all of it in TagScanner, including file renaming, and Songbird doesn't always figure it out.

And that revolting smell in my in-town brother's place was kept on being replayed into my nose or directly to my olfactory senses all evening, at least 40x. He has a cat that he keeps house bound all the time, and it is very strong, and even his Thai girlfriend complains, and yet she stays there. She said she could even smell it on his clothes when she first met him, not at his place even. I haven't figured out what the deal is with her, but for now, it seems that she is another "brown girl" planted, one on each brother. And regular readers and regular TI's will know how much the perps are obsessed over the color brown and brown colored skin, the negro gangstalking being the epitomy of it.

Enough to blog off tonight, and hopefully this will get posted as I listen to some of my ripped files. It seems the source of the music is as important as anything else in perpland; file, or online file, or Amazon samples etc. Go figure.

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