Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Watch Stop

A new watch purchase this morning, duly gangstalked prior, during and afterwards. The last one with the broken case got laundered and destroyed. Having with my functioning watch in my pocket was only good for a week of perp interest, then they wanted it nixed for good. As that is the second Casio of the same design that broke in the same location, it was time to get a different one. That begat a analog/digital combo, and lo, if they aren't separately adjusted so they can be out of sync for a minute or two, just the perfect perp setup for more FUD, lots more, given the frequency they have me look at my watch. I am still not allowed a metal watch band, as those two watches got sabotaged in 2002 and 2003, and somehow I just keep forgetting to get them repaired, even when I needed a new watch.

Prior to that, I got four rolls of coins for the laundry and bus fare demands that continue, and duly reprised gangstalked on the next block after exiting the bank by my next-neighbor Coffee Corps dude who made sure to waddle across my intended path doing the look-sideways-for-no-particular-reason move at the same time, coffee still in hand. A skeezy white ball cap also got a reprise when at the watch shop, as a thuggy dude in white came to visit while I was there, replete with white ballcap too, albeit cleaner looking.

And turning the corner for the last 100' of a city block before the watch shop got me three dudes in same blue color jackets; the streetside standee, the stairway exit and turn-in-front-with-coffee-in-hand dude, and another wearing the same color when seen through the adjacent window. And two dudes at the corner before making the turn, the usual mouth-open countenance. Once out of the store, the babe with two very small dogs on long leashes to get near my feet seemed to be important, as was the onset of rain as I exited, none beforehand. As mentioned many times, the act of purchase is a big deal for the perp assholes, in addition to any financial transaction of any kind, from vending machine, bus fare to debit cards and mailed checks. They crank up the background chatter, background noise, increase the failed debit card readings, have a two party cashier setup, female to start the transaction, male to end it, and so it goes, constant contained extreme attention to every possible financial transaction of any purp[ose and type one can imagine. They even had my US tax consultant fail to inform me to make quarterly payments all to get me pay a fine at income tax return time. Incurring parking meter fines has been another habit of theirs until they forced me to sell my vehicle in 2006.

And the perps have been consistent in flooding me with blue dressed gangstalkers while purchasing, and the more infrequent the location/purchase, the more likely a "blue force" will arrive then. They don't do this for groceries given how often I make a visitation to the local supermarket, but the LD store is a 2x/week proposition, and the staff wear blue. All the blue they would need, but this is also a game of replication by location; having the blue and other parameters in play at LD needs to be replicated elsewhere.

On the wallet and contained bills color management, I profered a red  $50 and a green $20, and got two blue $5 back instead of a purple $10, though one could surmise that this would be expectable unless they also knew how intensively the perps manage my wallet contents and the the color of the money. That I get inordinantly hounded by armoured vehicles, presumably containing large amounts of cash of the same colors isn't anything new, though I don't believe that I have mentioned it before.

Other prepatory abuses/stunts/levents this morning were to have me run out of chocolate this morning, so no typical breakfast chocolate, their usual brown color reference they like to have inside me 3x/day. Then a persistent sensation on my L shin, first proposed as teleported coffee on my leg hairs, then a water droplet after towel drying after showering, then again by dint of water drop fluke from shaving, and even afterward. And of course to force me to towel that location in mid shave, even with nothing visible, and no insect or skin lesion or damage either. The assholes kept this up until I set off for the bank. This marks an escalation in planted sensation fuckery, as they have nearly always been transient, as if my finger tips, nipples and feet somehow brush by or otherwise "find" something nearbyto jab them, hundreds of times per day. But to have a persistent nothing, and to address it by expressly towelling the spot with nothing there, or lie one leg on the other, and yet the sensation continuing, means that the assholes have now crossed the line into drive-me-nuts abuse-world.

A total slouch out last night, having me finish reading Jackie Oh!, and then rereading a recent book, Nemesis (about RFK, Jackie and Onassis) to "refresh" my recall. The perps seem to have wiped out any knowledge of reading the latter book, even with its explosive revelation that Onassis funded RFK's asassination. Hard to be sure about that, though he did roundly benefit as he stood between Jackie and Onassis getting married, with the tragedy that he later realized that the marriage was a total mistake, given her less than supportive role, not to mention the adversity of his two children and family. Anyhow, the perps seem to have me on a JFK, RFK and Onassis kick these days, reading all about them from many sources. They started this in 2003, reading a book on a new theory of RFK's murder, then had me drop it until recent months, now 7 years later.

A rousing and rage-fied succession of imposed adversities for the past hour, in combination with other seeming critical perp events. First, a forced shit that begat five plungings, leaking water from the top of the valve stem by dripping down the tank lid and onto the floor, a toilet roll swap, a shower to clean up and starting a new bar as the soap ran out this morning. Then they added a lump of shit into my underwear, discovered post shower, and that begat changing clothes.

Then making a quesadilla from scratch, no mean feat even if that is all I have made for the past seven years. Unconventionally kinetic chicken meat rolled off the cutting board more than once, faked touches including a return of the persistent sensations in my L shin, then faked noise "from" the spoon in the coconut oil jar as if it were hitting the jar when it clearly wasn't, then the first tortilla was cooked in the last of the old jar, and then a swapover to the new jar of coconut oil to cook the second tortilla (same brand and kind), then extra dynamic tapenade as the quesadilla base causing it to squeeze out excessively, then the four quarters rejoining after I cut them all to confound removing one slice and invoking more rage-ified vocalizations, then a few others while doing the dishes to keep me riled up the whole time. Background activity was three separate rounds of siren cascades, ongoing rain, and street hollaring noise.

I am off to the First Feral Family home this afternoon to score some more gardening work if that is possible for the rain, though it may happen tomorrow as it seems to be lightening up if the forecast is anything to go by. (Most weather forecasts are flat wrong of late, that is, when they allow it to be displayed on the web page instead of the conspicuous blank spots where missing).

An almost "walk in" last night at about 2000h. A knock on the door, I asked who it was, and a woman replied in an unintelligble way. I open the door (not using the peephole), and a 5'8" young blonde woman staring straight ahead starts walking into the partially open door. I said, "I don't know you, goodbye", and I close the door. She didn't look stoned or drunk, just evasive. This is the second time the assholes have pulled this stunt, and I am sure it isn't the last, as fat girls have yet to make their showing, as the prior act was an Asian girl who stopped just inside the unlocked door, and stood there looking around, also pretending to be stunned out/cognitively impaired.This bullshit strikes me as desparate, attempting to get a live person in close to me in my own apartment by way of these ridiculous set ups.

Blogging off for now, and onto communal gangstalking events tonight, landscaping work tomorrow.

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