Sunday, February 27, 2011

Shut In Saturday

I am sure there is more than one blog posting with the above title, and it is because all too often they like to keep me inside on this day of the week. I have no idea why it erupts so often, but it is clearly part of the perps' doings, being managed to the microsecond that it appears. And lo, if a red flash didn't come off this white LCD panel as I type. And the red flashes and red injections into TV and online displays has gone up considerably this past two months or so, leveraging from Christmas it seems. There are a number of differing red color themes the perps like me to see, or have proximate. One is the red with white mashed in it and as a blot with indistinct edges; what this replicates for perp emulation games isn't exactly clear to me, though they contend it would be to mashed up bodies, not that I have knowingly seen any. But as there are three missing years of my life when I should of being making long term memories, anything could of been done to me in the name of covert science at the time. Related themes are the proliferation of hoodie characters, even in mid-summer, and that the perps want me exposed to knives of varying kinds. Sounds like ritual abuse,  or at least, in the form of obverving it, should this of transpired.

Another red theme was the red siren fake-out the pulled yesterday. I have long complained of the huge increase in ladder bearing vehicles in my presence since 2003, as have other TI's; red, orange, yellow fiberglass stringered ladders, and occasionally the aluminum and wood ladders. And yesterday, they put a wood stepladder with the step portion arranged forward immediately on top of a black SUV. It was about 60' away, and moving per normal road traffic expectations when the perps drew my attention to the red rectangular step of the step ladder on the vehicle's roof, and then immediately mindfucked me into "thinking" it was a police roof siren. I don't make those kind of mistakes, ever, and to no surprise, all my spatial determination skills were hijacked and an entirely foreign notion, albeit a clever lookalike ruse, was planted. So it would seem that the perps wanted to fake me out over the placement and color of a police siren as seen on top of a vehicle, at least momentarily. So it has caused me to wonder why I see so many extra police vehicles and why the term "police" gets so many set up mentions and exposures. My understanding of the late 1950's Duplessis Orphan child abuse/killing in Quebec in the 1940's to the early 1960's, was that the police would drive the children around, acting as couriers for the terminal experimentors. And the children told them exactly what was going on and all the abuses, and the police criminals of the day did nothing whatsover. Not only abetting this blatant criminality of the day, but engaging in dereliction of their professional duties to the public.

And as regular readers will likely know, I lived as a child in Montreal, Quebec in 1956-57 and 1958-59, as my father took his PhD degree in geology at McGill University. Could it be that I have subconscious traumatization associations with police vehicles of the day, because I was getting transported around by them? I don't know for sure at this time, and have yet to continue this dialog with a certain Duplessis Orphan who revealed his story to me, as an orphan living in the Catholic church that had converted to a "hospital" so terminal studies on children's brains could be conducted. And now, over 50 years later, the perps (still) hound me with trappings of the day. And that includes typical nun dress/habit of the day interestingly. And it also included excessive uses of sirens as part of the ongoing harassment and unconventional abuses I recieve, and includes the particular mechanical siren noise of the 1950's, different from the electronic chirppy noise of the 1970's and to present.

A wrap of the day; a hard evening's ripping CD's, and dealing with the freakingcopy problems that erupt as part of the deal, especially if the CD has a brown colored label on it. I got all day of doing squat at this time of year, and I am NEVER allowed to get on with the job and apply myself from morning onward. The perps want me to do the CD ripping only in the late evening, after tea-time, 2000h or so. Go figure.

I was allowed out to the grocery store this evening, and lo, if the wandering hordes of dudes weren't out there too, navigating around the slush for crissakes. I had my usual, and unusual coverage. In the latter camp was this act with bright orange bellbottom cord pants on, straight from the 1960's, loitering for a pass around the chocolate before I arrived. A two babe press when getting tea, one standing in front, and the other arriving and adroitly getting in my path before I could get the tea from the shelf, a running interference gangstalker/asshole. Then a skinhead dude was on two paradings, crossing my path each time, and a few more that I don't recall. A redcoat act with a browncoat act side by side as my coverage ahead of me at the checkout, almost unsightly to see those colors together.

Enough blogging tonight.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Sudden Snow

Feb. 23, 2011
An overnight snowfall, with continuing flurries has the town excited, though I don't share it. But, it has quieted the noisescape, though the inside fake neighbor water running noises were ramped up in partial compensation. But given that even weather is a perp manipulated event I have come to find, though no true for all TI's, I am sure there is some connection to me in all of this. Not the least is a wet blanket of crystallized water, aka snow, and how the perps like to engage in water flicking games. So having the town covered in this white water form color reference is just something wonderful for the sick minds that continue this unrelenting nonconsensual human research on their subjects, me being one of their prime abusees it seems. As far as I know, no other TI gets the same degree of nonstop abuse and harassment as me, to the point that their entire physical world is recast in a new light, and that teleportation is another day at the office for the sickos who continue this deranged vileness. Anyhow, I shouldn't be complaining too much as I am house-bound, and viewing the weather games from six stories above the street in relative comfort.

Feb. 25, 2011
Back to my cell after a two night stayover at the First Feral Family house; some bullshit by the in-town brother over my seeming non-working phone (in-bound calls), saying he was downstairs at the apartment intercom, and he & mother were wondering if I was OK. Like WTF; first of all this is all orchestrated and I am the last to know anything of the script. Second, him setting off on uncleared and slippery streets to then arrive downstairs (this is the downtown area) to make a intercome phone call and not come upstairs to visit and tell me the story in person is absurd. Yes, all the intercom sounds were there, and it seemed like he was downstairs. So I call the FFF Mother and got through and said I was just fine, and that all this apparent panic over me was ridiculous "because" of the snow. More BS calls from the phone company and the "phone problem" was resolved, if it was even at issue. Presumably, their network got jammed because of the call volume and/or equipment failure in the cold temperatures. We already did this bullshit with the same phone company a few years ago, and lo, if it isn't any different.

The upshot of all this BS was that I should go to the FFF and clean the driveway of snow, some 12". I said I would do it when it stopped snowing, which it did in the early afternoon. Why in-town brother wasn't in on doing this I don't know, assuming he was driving around like he made out. So... about 1600h I set off with my pack and headed to the FFF house by bus, thankfully muted from the usual freakshow, though Asian heavy. I got sucked into a mind-fuck to get off one stop early on the secondary route (that I rarely take), and the bus stopped in mid street as the sides weren't cleared of snow. I get off and start tromping the extra distance to the corner where I would of normally got off, and for some reason the bus sat in mid-street where I got off, and not having seen it go by, I looked back, and an Asian couple were running for it while still stopped in mid-street (snowy conditions). Then it must of sat there for a few minutes longer until I was close (60') to the usual bus stop and then it went by, with the opposite route bus also passing by in the other direction. I forget other details, but there was this vehicular convergence (two of three being buses) when I was at the usual bus stop location having walked 200' or so from getting mind-fucked into prematurely getting off. So it would seem they were testing me in snowbound conditions, and having made me walk the 200' between bus stops to the usual location, and then the buses converge. The one that I was on deliberately held back and didn't pass me by until at the pre-designated corner. Today's bus stop Asian events at this corner of two bus stops, Tyndall and San Juan for locals, were also mighty curious (see below).

I cleared the driveway in an hour or so, there being two blue plastic snow shovels, one mid-blue, the other a green-blue. All very important to the perps, the color of the plastic that sweeps ahead of me, when arranged. And as it "happened", my mother did make a single pass with one snow shovel down the length of the driveway. Again, I doubt it, but the swath was there, and presumably it was done with the green-blue shovel, and I would of stepped in an on it former path often while sweeping the entire driveway with the mid-blue colored plastic snow shovel. All very fascinating to the perps, these color variations of late, and what might of swept the ground ahead of me. Not forgetting they had the potatoe digging machine rake up the ground ahead of me doing picking work many times this past summer, and ditto for the daffodil bulb picking that followed. Such is my vocation fate courtesy of the perps; agricultural peon, even side by side with the legal imported Mexican labor. The perps wouldn't even let me learn Spanish from them, which I was prepared to do, as they laid me off from the first job within two days of acquiring a Spanish phrase book and a dictionary. Maybe this year will be my big breakout and they will let me learn Spanish. It seems the perps have a substantial agenda over what I learn, and the peon jobs for the last three summers have pointed in the direction of learning a new language. As magnetized as I am in a 1600 Gauss field, or greater, this must be terribly fascinating for the assholes, should it come to pass.

Yesterday, I got to sit around the whole day inside the FFF house, the weather being cold and blowing snow; no projects to do or otherwise putz with. I even started to read a book, an all time science classic, On Growth and Form, by D'Arcy Wentworth Thompson. And while reading, and while listening to the dishy sounding female announcer on KING-FM, my mother duly did her perp-abetting bullshit of running the vaccum cleaner for over an hour, later followed by clanging crockery.

And of course I was removed from this apartment and blog, PC and all, and I suppose that was a big deal. When I got back this afternoon, I see that the bedsheet was turned down some 10" or so; not the way I left it and who knows what perp asshole might of been in it. I did find a 20" long black hair in the bed once, and have no idea how it got there.

This morning, I did the driving duty of getting my mother to the grocery store in the slick ice road conditions of her suburbia road to then negotiate the mostly cleared arterial streets. The perps had been pissing me  off in the morning so I had an inkling this was a big perp event; getting me out driving in the snow with the FFF matron in the passenger seat, and to the usual clusterfuck grocery store. It wasn't too bad at first, the gangstalker scene, but little by little the freakshow kept coming in, arriving from the back of the store. The elder-twit woman parking her basket in mid-aisle and pretending not to notice what a tripping hazard it was, only to reprise gangstalk at least 5x more with her basket in a shopping cart for crissakes. Then the pig-dude came by for at least 10 stalkings; shiny bald head, fat face, over 260lb and orange liner to his coat for whatever reason. These two were the worst tails, on me constantly and my mother abetting by dithering around and backtracking for vague reasons. Then there was the "stalking/stocking" carts loaded with boxes (think, brown color reference) and the Asian store staff, and then there was the negro for some gratuitious reason, followed by the dark Arab who kept loitering worse than a fart in a sleeping bag. Then it was the ball cap dude-force's turn, also on my ass for at least three reprise gangstalkings. Then out of the store only to be lined up by a black Jaguar sitting in mid-parking lot for no reason, and in front of my mother's vehicle necessitating a choice as to which side, of this fucking obstacle to take. And so this bullshit of this Jaguar sitting in mid parking lot continued for a minute or so, and when on the track to pass on the right side, why, the driver makes a turn to cut in front of me and park the vehicle 12" from my mother's vehicle. That meant a trip to the other side to then unload the groceries.

Then a walk through the icy parking lot to the adjacent pharmacy for my mother's medications, and through an upper level lot that was bounded off to prevent anyone attempting to drive up the snowbound inclines. So lo, if there wasn't a dude with a walk-behind snowblower who carved a path for us, as he had been on the opposite side a few minutes ago to loft snow over top of the vehicle when we were first arriving.  In all of this setup my mother needs to hang on to me, not being too steady given the snow and ice conditions, and when we get to the door, why, a greeter dude in black clothing opens the door. Like WTF; no vehicles outside due to the parking lot being bounded off, and then he comes out from this quiescent mall entrance to hold the door open. The pharmacy was only 30' away, and so my mother dithered around there to get her medications, and then found need to check her blood pressure, having first to wait for another woman who decided to use the machine just before my mother wanted to. This woman was in "hang around" mode, and I couldn't figure out why she was sitting around, but anyhow, with three seats I had to wait too. Along the way when this woman gets up, she has her sweater lifted 2" from her pants to show me her bare midriff for a half minute or so, making out that she was unaware. The more putzing and clutzing while my mother did her blood pressure, pharmacist giving her a free card to store her results on, and the assistant retrieving the green knitted gloves my mother left at the counter. And in retrospect, I was seated to the backside of the LCD monitor while this parade of clutzing and revealing was going on.

And when it came time to depart the pharmacists and go through the upper deck parking lot, why, parking was now allowed, and there were some five vehicles or so, drawing from the silver grey and white color schemes the perps like so much. The snowblower and dude was gone, not having completed the job, save to heft snow when outbound. Another arm-in-arm walk back to the vehicle with the FFF matron, and to the parking lot to then squeeze by the black Jaguar, the owner who must of exited the passenger side to get out. Back to the FFF house, and lo, if in-town brother isn't there outside, making out he just arrived in his girlfriend's red vehicle, not using his white van or silver grey pickup truck. He claimed to need to use the FFF PC for him to look up garage sales on the web, as he was doing his usual habit of searching for second hand deals. This isn't the first time, maybe the 20th or more, where he arrives to use the PC, as is in prop himself in front of this color reference source about the time I come to the FFF from outside. Clearly, the Fuckover Force needs to make more brother-to-brother color comparisons using the PC and they need the one-eyed brother in on it too. It would seem that the perps created an accident when he was two, and he lost the use of one eye. No doubt related to the extensive color, light, vision diminuition, vision dithering and related fuckery that started since the perps went overt/beserk in 04-2002 (on me).

And part of the deal for the extra FFF coverage upon arriving was that the shopping bag help suddenly erupted; so it would seem that the perps, via the abetting FFF assholes, need to get more reference data on me as I pass freaking shopping bags to and fro. And have I not complained before that the one of the all time props for gangstalkers is shopping bags? And here we are, almost nine years later since the overt/beserk assault began, and they are still hounding me over plastic shopping bags.

And after hounding his ass for a few minutes or so, why, the ex also arrives to tell her story as to how her BMW convertible (white, red interior, black fabric roof) got bounced around on the highway in the snow two days ago, ended up setting off the rollover protection that went throught the fabric roof and the rear bumper mangled and in the ditch. After four hours in the snow and no tow truck, someone came by and helped her out, and she drove it to the vehicle claim center, where they "happened" to have an appointment opening, and where it was determined to be totalled. By all accounts she got a good settlement, and is now prospecting for a new vehicle. Such a deal, the perps sending her careening off the road with a low speed hit-and-run and now a new experiment begins with a new vehicle, color and trim.

So, in all this, the ex brings brown cookies over, and we have coffee (think perp brown color agenda/fuckery), and more two-tone brown cookies and generally get "browned", as in food and beverage intake. And is it any wonder I had the Coffee Corps out later gangstalking on the city bus? Then the ex and in-town brother left separately, and later when luch was served, this fugly red soup was all that was availible, soup can stuff. Enough of the FFF rescue mission, and off to the city bus stop to get back to my downtown apartment. And for the packed snow road conditons, an aburd number of gangstalking vehicles going by in tight formation, strings in file of four or more, and many of them red colored. For all the "browning around" with the ex and in-town brother "happening" to be there for when we returned from the grocery shopping trip, there were very few brown vehicles on the road, a noticeable drop in prior weeks.

I take the city bus, and lo, if the Asians couple hasn't left their grocery shopping bag (fabric) in the entrance, and lo, if they aren't also packing some cheapshit pressboard furniture off the bus while I pass them in the aisle. Of all the dumbshit and utterly senseless BS I have seen when getting on the bus, this takes the cake to date. Here they are, purportedly grocery shopping and furniture packing on the bus with the streets covered in snow, getting off just as I board the bus (same front door).

Once on board, I see my favorite seats are plugged up, so I get a transverse one at the rear, raised deck portion. I have four Asians arranged around me, but no big deal, as they seem to be the in-flavor gangstalking race of late. Others come and go, and the Asians remain, and one black and white dressed woman gets on two seats over. She ends up making out that she wants to get off at the stop ahead of me, and then doesn't, but instead waits and tails me off the bus. But that wasn't enough, as she then tails me on the street, and even starts running to catch up to me, as I am striding out by now, knowing this tail is on me. She crosses the street on one block, conceding the obvious, and then tails me parallel for two more blocks. What I couldn't get over was the bus stop fake-out; ringing the bell to get off one stop ahead of me, and then hangs back to purposely tail me.

About four stops before I get on, there was a seeming high school influx of 20 at one stop, this at 1350h on a Friday afternoon. Some 15 Asians were part of the mix, sitting all around me and then another cluster at the rear door where it seems the bus travelling population of Victoria puts on its perpetual rudeness of obstructing those who wish to exit (translated, an excuse for body contact just before getting off).

Enough of this; just to let you know its all just as unusual as it has been ever since April 15, 2002, The Real Day of Infamy, and not some concocted deal where FDR locked up his admiral to keep the show going.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Perps Go Beserk in the Morning

The perps pulled more beserk abuses first thing, starting at 0630h when a procession of outside noise, heavy duty vehicles and buses, none of which would normally be audible at six stories up, came one after the other when awakening me at 0635h. Prior to that, some very vivid and extended dreams about vineyard pruning as a paying job. I have been sucked into applying for such jobs over the last three years, all to no avail, and there were some listed online last night, though I didn't apply, owing to the logistics problems of transportation and onsite accomodation arrangements. So a vineyard pruning job isn't exactly an important event for me, as it means squat after I apply for one, going by past experience. But for some reason, this consumed my dreams for at least 30 minutes before getting up, and was no doubt planted for someone else's benefit.

The breakfast time abuse started out with a total jerkaround, literally, as they pulled the bottle of Italianissmo fizzy fuit concentrate from my grasp and dumped it on the kitchen floor, all to then use this as an excuse to pressurize the container and create pink foam on top and have it leak out the top along, by then, placed in the sink. A few minutes later they flicked water around on the floor, something they have been prone to do more of late, and including in-town brother somehow flicking water over his groceries two days ago, ones that I used. Then they Pseudosweated me at breakfast, as if sweating from heat, when there wasn't any, all to have more sweat/water running down my arm and off my elbow. The back up beeper noise started up while having coffee and chocolate, and kept up the whole time. How they pretend to arrange vehicles that spend over five minutes backing up is beyond me, but very likely it was a noise-only event. After the dishes were done, and the counter and table cleaned, why, they put two pink colored water flickings on the floor, coming from nowhere as the Italianissmo mess was confined to the sink. Then when shaving they cranked up the Pseudosweats again, having sweat/water running off my arms and nose after I had repeatedly towel dried myself exactly where it was originating. A long way of saying the perps are going more abusive and disruptive, and this is their opening "statement". Never mind it has been a given for the last 8.5 years of this insane abusive imposition in all its facets, including sharply constrained employment prospects, something that is now allowed to annoy me. The last month of forced no job looking was an extreme piss-off, and rationalized with planted notions that there is nothing I can do about it. Well, there is as a matter of fact, and that would be from the obits if I had any choice in the matter. Close to nine years of this insane abusive inanity because a multi-billion dollar budgeted outfit doesn't have the gumption to show their face takes the cake as far as organization beserk-ness goes. Then to fuck with victims for this long over freaking crumbs, lint and doghairs (not my dog, but the assigned ironic name), and planting gangstalkers around them, as close as they publically dare, is a total outrage, never mind family and the rest of this dumbshit town in obsequious obedience.

An earlier two block trip to the ATM to deposit my recent earning and to keep myself out of the red for all the expenses the perps put on me last month. And lo, if the freaks weren't out, and yet again, a "sidewalk challange", where someone oncoming doesn't seem to want to get out of LH drive mode, coming straight at me. This time it was a cyclist at a crosswalk; said cyclist was to make a Left turn, but instead of advancing into the intersection like every normal person would, she sits back, on the crosswalk and then when the light changed, she was still in mid-crosswalk. And when the crossing hordes started, she then dismounts, and walks her bicycle straight at me, making to run me over with it until she diverted 6' in front of me. I cannot count the number of "sidewalk challenges" of like kind I get in a week, as the perps have me forget to think about it afterward.

Anyhow, a part cash and part check deposit, and for the perps this is terribly fascinating, not to mention unloading two pink-red $50's and five green $20's. As always, the perps are totally nuts about financial transactions, and doubly so when it involves cash and our colored money here in Canada. And the assholes totally dithered me at the ATM, only allowing me to unfold one bill at a time, and not allowing me the optimum method to unfold all the pre-arrangeg bills. This protraction gave the pink-red (like a $50 bill) dressed granny gangstalker asshole longer to poiter some 6' from the ATM for no reason, there the entire time I was transacting. Another pink-red dressed granny came in the door as I was about to exit, and at least a half dozen red dressed Fuckwits were circulating with the other pedestrians/gangstalkers on the street. My outbound gangstalkers somehow managed to arrange themselves again for when I was inbound (return route). Plus the bums and "just stand theres", plain dumbstruck as to what to do on a city street in this town. A stop at the shoe store to get some expensive laces for my shoes, and more likely, to have me hand over a blue $5 bill for them, all part of the perp obsession over wallet contents.

Apart from that perp managed outing to the ATM, I suspect that I am being kept in for longer today, a partial shut-in day, and for some reason that often follows an ATM trip. They want to have me the rest of the day in front of this LCD and whatever color referencing that provides.

Three zappings in the last five  minutes get me riled up; with the earmuffs on the assholes put on a noise simulataneously with the zapping, gettting an electrical and acoustical response at the same time. And having me consistently yell at the assholes after a zapping is done.

Another incandescent light  bulb needed to be replaced, only there some four months, and for the perps, that is way too long, so they sabotage the bulb element. And too, the almost regular event of "repair the bulb and by standing on the relocated chair that one was formerly sitting in at dinner". For some reason it is important for the perps to have me stand on the chair, and this is their excuse/entre to make me do this.

The Asian brown-stalkers out tonight. As I stepped into the too small lobby and Asian dude was sitting on the couch looking decidedly stupid while this Caucasian babe on a cell phone walks immediately in front of  him, and keeping her head down and pretending not to notice imminent collision, she walks over where I am about to step into once free of the door. I cannot say there was too much Asian gangstalking in the local supermarket, my destination, but when there was some "capture time", keeping me at the checkout,, some 6' away there was this pair of Asians not doing very much and with a Caucasian staff member doing their cluster fuck thing. Then an Asian behind me at the checkout, but that wasn't for long and off I went to return to this torture pit, aka, apartment.

Some CD ripping tonight, and being reminded of all the music I have missed, as most of it hasn't been played since 1996, when we moved to a farm (still a family then), and in 1999 I moved to Everett to keep the whole thing financially afloat, which I did. That didn't earn me any concessions on the divorce, but enough of that nonsense, all perp rigged at the time of course. I once wondered if my lawyer was in contact with someone else, as she seemed remarkably informed. And why they would blink heavily if there was some discussions in play, and it seemed they were holding out for a different result, and had this unerring knack of screwing me for more. Anyhow, like I said, the entire episoded was rigged from begining to end, and I will leave it at that for now.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Fire Alarm Bell Noise Assault

A Merciless Monday, THE day for perp fuckery and hijinx, and lo, if they didn't outdo themselves by putting on the fire alarm in 10 second bursts every few minutes to accompany me back from a stay at the First Feral Family home, and round of errands in town before that. Now back an hour, and the alarm first went off when I had just put the laundry on in the washing machine, having suffered a plainly gratuitous toilet back up and using a towel to mop up the water. So... a more urgent laundering need, and lo, if they weren't ready for me with the fire alarm noise after exiting the laundry room. And more of the noise to track me back inside my apartment, bell outside my door and no escaping the noise. Then again while journalling, and again with tea and chocolate in my mouth, almost a given for how often they noisestalk me with brown food in my mouth.

A morning of near uselessness, as my mother wanted to purchase seeds and plants online and I was doing the helping, and both times she bailed out at the Checkout as the shipping costs were either too much or incorrect. The website was also horrid for navigation, and the perps made sure I knew about that, forcing me into extra navigational blunders when I wouldn't of done it myself. I suppose this would be another "financial transaction warm up", doing her shopping on her PC, and getting to the final commit moment and then my mother bailing out. And she was full measure for phsyically blundering into me, emanating saliva spray and then getting way to fucking close, raising her head to be next to mine. It is just fucking apalling to the lengths the sick assholes will go to get some family quisling (or other) in close to me when they haven't the gumption to declare themselves and this insanely abusive agenda they have been humping on, trashing my life every minute of the day. We are closing in on nine years of this abuse since it erupted in 2002, and was arranged to keep me from having a decent job, having a vehicle, having money and a normal existence. Now, I get nudged with fake touches some 100+ times per day, rage-ified with extra conventional gravitic abuses and other staged adversities some 30+ times per day, not to mention the gangstalking scum that tail me everywhere I go.

Then the afternoon spent chasing parts for my in-town brother's 4" hand grinder to use for cutting metal flanges projecting from the FFF house backyard patio, yet another absurdity in FFF doings going back some decades.

And for the second time this afternoon, the yelling dudes outside, coming from a nearby balcony. The perps must really think that I need to hear more dude talk, when less would be just fine. One of this afternoon's big events was at a electrical repair shop with plenty of dude talk as this is their beat it seems. One blonde woman in pink was flitting about, stud in her forhead for crissakes. Where do they find so many fucking wierds?

But it seems that the fire alarm noise has ended, though I would not be surprised should it sound off just when having evening tea time with chocolate to have a later day/nightime lighting conditions comparison. They haven't done fire alarm noise stunts for over a year, which is quite something when they were weekly, with the big yellow firetruck coming out to visit and the baragge of flashing lights outside. They did get an ambulance show in earlier when I was driving with my mother. And the street was plugged so that forced the ambulance to go on the opposite side of the road in the oncoming lane, traffic pulled over. Obviously, a big day for the perps, attempting to replicate what they find out about me at the FFF house Monday morning to elsewhere in town.

Some thundering noise erupts from the kitchen, heard through the earmuffs, as I recall last CD ripping session where to invoke Windows Media Player, I had to go to the File Explorer and use the Open With... command that pulled up WMP, the only way I could find it since it went missing on me. Such are the slings and arrows of living in a total life sabotage environment in constant monitoring for exacting adversity at every move.

More CD ripping tonight, the Complete 1950's Masters of Elvis Presley 5 CD box set was duly copied and compressed to disc. And in the course of going through my music library I discover that someone has been deleting them, leaving one or two behind to let me know that I am missing the rest. And I check the log files that I dutifully saved, and the full track quantity did get compressed and copied. Like WTF; what is the fucking point of that sabotage?

Anyhow, enough nonsense to report on and to blog off.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Stolen Work Items

Feb. 18, 2011, 2125h
And eventful day given that I have only just recovered from the flu, but it was of necessity due to the fact that daffodil picking has slowed down and there won't be any work until at least Feb. 22. Never mind that 30 permit Mexicans arrived yesterday to do picking work and that the weather has got cold and the daffocils are already behind from last year.

But I "decided" that given it was Friday, and I won't get to the farm until Feb. 22, I would drive out to the farm and get my paycheck and retrieve my raingear to clean it up from the mud. Which of course, means borrowing my mother's vehicle and taking it there, as the city bus would take forever. My mother wanted to come along, and so it was thus. But first to fill the fuel tank, and lo, if there wasn't a gasoline tanker and its pup trailer parked at the gasoline station, and presumably filling the underground tanks, as the large hoses were connected to the in-ground connections. And so, while the fuel station tanks were being filled, I filled the vehicle's tank. The significance of this isn't totally known to me, but the perps go to great lengths to expose me to petroleum products, this has to be one of the more obvious ones. Anytime I go past a fuel station, even if late Sunday evening, there is a very good chance there is a fuel tanker vehicle there as well. But this was a first, having the tanker and pup parked there while I filled the vehicle up.

Then my mother needed to go to the bank, in a mall opposite of the fuel station, and so I drove, parked and waited there. When done, I drove out again, and saw that the fuel tanker was parked 180 degrees reversed, and closer to the road, bounding the location where I filled up the vehicle. How they moved that colossus fuel tanker inside the confines of fuel station property in such a short time I will never know, and for what purpose more to the point. A full on parade of grey-scale vehicles was our gangtalking escort, with the odd red one inserted at various intervals.

And while filling the vehicle, the perps put on the fugliest negro (Unfavored)gangstalker to date; this time, on a bicycle, black as the ace of spades and with dreadlock (much Unfavored) hair that was dyed a dark green. I hope never to see such fugliness again, but I am sure that won't happen.

And then when at the farm, I go to the crew locker room and discover they "cleaned it", and in doing so, cut the locks off the lockers, including mine. The lock had only been on there for a week so it wasn't as if this was a long term habituation issue. They had a big bin in the center of the room where the supposed retrieval items were heaped. One of the staff said that this is what they were instructed to do, and I asked where was my duffel bag that was inside the locker? And where were my gumboots that weren't in the locker, left out because they were wet? Don't know, and after looking through the bin, the items were not there. But somehow, my raingear, also left out to dry, survived this ersatz cleaning drive. After rooting around for a few minutes I gave up on expecting to find my items.

Which might of been what is was all about, to rile me up prior to getting my paycheck from the office, though I was the model of probity and didn't get into any "behavioural" rants or even suggest that having one's items taken from a locked locker is totally outrageous to the office staff. I dutifuly collect my paycheck and they had the bunch count identical to those of my notes, a truly rare moment. Last year they had the bunch count out by an even multiple of 75, which I drew to their attention, and got blown off about them looking into it. (And lo, if the bunch count wasn't corrected on the next check). And regular readers will know that the perps are totally consumed with the concepts of pay, remuneration and compensation, so getting me pissed off in advance of getting my paycheck was just the usual game of pissing me off, though with other's directed actions and not the unconventional gravitic fuckery that goes down in this apartment all day long.

Then a grocery shop with my mother at the Peninsual Coop, where I once shopped back in 1996 to 1999, also duly gangstalked with the male vagrant freaks that find me everywhere I go. Then back to the FFF house, with large trains of oncoming highway traffic at 1400h, most odd for commuters in this town. And then I hosed down the raingear there as there is space to do it on the outdoor patio area. I also laundered my pack in the utility sink as well, it too getting muddied up on the lastmost daffodil picking day. As mentioned many times on this blog, the perps have an ongoing obsession with dirt, that is, soil, and its provenance (where it is from). Having the muddied backpack sit around for four days at this apartment and then getting it cleaned at the FFF house was also part of the plan. The number of times I have had dirt lathered on my vehicles in the past cannot be counted, as I did plenty of backroad driving in my forestry crew days, and it would seem that the relocation of soil, and whatever energetics properties it has, is a vital perp reserarch topic.

Next Day, Feb. 19, 2011
A new all-time record for perp enforced sleep time, a 12 hour sleep for no reason except that they wanted me to have breakfast at noon. The thought of skipping breakfast starting with lunch wasn't allowed it would seem. Then plenty of crumb provocations in the bathroom, with chia seeds arriving from nowhere, though I did purchase some last week, and they are in the fridge, but how they continue to end up on the towel, in the bathroom sink, and refuse to go down the drain with the water running would be perp fuckery to raise the rage-ifcaton level in advance of vacuuming the carpet afterward.

And after yesterday's backpack cleaning at the First Feral Family residence, the pack's contents are sitting in a pile here, some of them being a few pounds of elastic bands (read, brown color) for bunching daffodil flowers, and it seems they want the pack contents exposed without the pack, which is still hanging on the line at the FFF house.

But the muddy raingear was only for hosing down, no detergent or laundering. The water provenance studies continue; first they wouldn't let me clean my muddy raingear at the farm as the cleaning stations were shut off and the inside hose wasn't allowed (per farm manager "happening" to come by as I was about to use it like last year). Then, the farm's outside cleaning stations were turned on, and the first time I used them for cleaning up my raingear was Feb. 14, the day we stopped at 1200h due to a storm and getting a flu so I couldn't return until yesterday. And yesterday, said raingear was given the hosedown (no detergents) at the FFF residence, where they still are hung dry.

Other related water provenance testing is internally; the supplements to stem the flu incurred water drinking from the kitchen faucet (into a tumbler), and for the perps, this extra water intake is an exciting advent. Not just kettle water in other words, as it is filled from the same faucet. I noticed that my in-town brother was driving around with a load of internal brass faucet fittings in his vehicle when I caught a ride, so it seems that the passage of water from source to faucet and then internally is getting more study time by way of the perps invoking more variations on how I use it. Besides, the building water system shutdowns that follow me to each residence locations also suggest extra perp interest.

And I see the weather is getting cooler, so the daffodil picking hiatus will likely be extended for longer this month.

Onto physics that may well be related to the perps' current obsession over blood, as well as electron spin. It would seem that DNA has its own "handedness", and this confers a certain electron spin. Given the number of times the perps place LH drive vehicles around me, and the occasional farm vehicle ride in one such vehicle, it would seem that they have an abidding interest in "handedness" of something. And it just might be electrons in the DNA. The fact that I "happen" to encounter this article suggests they are tipping their hand just a little, though one has to be aware of fake-outs too.

A late dinner tonight, making quesadilla from scratch, and getting rage-ified at every turn, as it seems they want to do a series of all routine moments being accompanied by a rage provocation. Things like noises from nowhere, objects moving (a little) by themselves, crumb inundations, forced finger fumbling, sending me to the wrong drawer or cupboard are all provocations for which I get to have a raged reaction to. The usual faux neighbor noise on the opposite side of the kitchen wall started up when I was there, in the usual impecabble timing whether meals are late or early, 0500h to 1990h, they will start the noise up almost every time.

More from PC hell; I have been ripping music CD's to disc with Exact Audio Copy, and had three in succession that had the first song get corrupted. So... I look for my Windows Media Player that was there this afternoon, trying to insert itself to play every CD in the tray, and lo, if it isn't gone, as in totally. The moment I need Windows Media Player the assholes have purged it from my PC, or at least, from all the convenience icon locations; task bar and start list. Time to hunt for the software I once had and is now gone.

Just another vexation the perps had planned for me and time to call this one done. A dull day, and mostly one of being kept inside.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Flu Fragility

After all those daytime sleeps yesterday, I feel that I am getting better, but am still feeling fragile for attempting anything major. I even got screwed with a PC crash last night while ripping a CD, and now find that Exact Audio Copy knows about this, and suggests putting the CD in first. Fricking lame.

No major events planned today, except maybe a sortie to the local supermarket to get more of the syrup concentrate, aka cordial, as it was the only saving grace to offsetting the yogurt sour flavor this morning. True to form, the perps had me totally "forget" to add kiwi fruit in the yogurt mix, not realizing this until hours later. It is extremely rare that they let me have fruit with breakfast, a sore point that I have long given up on. But one can discern that yesterday was a fluke, and back to a no-fruit breakfast again. We are closing in on 9 years of this insane abuse, and here they are pissing with what I have for breakfast for the first major diet change at that mealtime. We have a long way to go yet it would seem.

And in Windows 7, in the lastest upgrade that was installed after the repair events last month, I see that the one dependable Control Panel got dumbed down into categories, leaving me bereft of finding anything useful. There was nothing wrong with the big long list, and I could get to where I wanted about 90% of the time. And now that it is dumbed down into categories, with too brief explanations and not enough meat, I am batting 10% at most. Why does Microsoft continue to meddle and fuck up useful features, especially of the system admin kind, often the last resort to getting the problem resolved?

A three hour nap on the bed, the last 40 minutes oof which was spent in a totally denergized state, unable to get up and in full hearing of the noise parade outside. I don't think I am well enough to go daffodil picking tomorrow, and so for another day of this health hiatus.

Next Day, Feb. 17, 2011
Feeling better today, no long naps in the daytime, though not 100%, and not wanting to go to my Thursday yoga practice. A 10.5 sleep last night, and while nothing new in the sleep duration sabotage end of things, it might suggest that the vitamin C, echinacea and Cold FX may have stemmed the tide of being flu bound for longer.

And still wrestling with the CD music "ripping", a dumbshit name for copying and compressing, as Ripstation Micro was duly installed and the first thing I get is "unable to enable Autorun". And lo, if my email wasn't responded to and other Googleing hasn't got this particular error identified. One long jerkaround, getting anything to work and operate without undue hassle. The Iris Dement song. "Easy is Getting Harder All The Time" was written for TI's, though I am sure she isn't one and has no idea who us poor schmo's are in Disenfranchised Land.

And I sense the perps have crossed the line owing to two recent events of making their gangstalkers overt and seeming without apparent purpose, as well as recent unconventional gravitic events. For the latter, the line was always that there was a sliver of plausibility to their games; a blob of food would arrive unseen on the counter but as I wasn't watching that particular location in detail, and that I was handling food, it just might be that it was me. Given that this "happens" (this one example) 40+ times per day, each event still has that sliver, that remote chance, that it wasn't them. Add them all up, and of course it was them, as I never had so many such problems with crumbs from nowhere or like food handling ever before. But now, food pieces just erupt, without any causal plausibility and lob from jar to countertop, covering 12" of horizontal distance without any remote possibility that it was by my actions. There was no question that the opening of the coconut butter this morning was a big event, as the sirens came on for it, but when a 1/4" blob of it leaps from the jar and onto the counter by itself, the perps have crossed the line of ostensible plausibility. They have been pushing this for many months now, maybe even six months ago, but now my existence appears to be a no holds barred unconventional gravitic abuse scene.

On the gangstalker patterns changing, I noted in the last blog posting about a gangstalker who was friendly with the staff at LD and who then does a lead-ahead gangstalking to the adjacent supermarket, also doing that odd teeth barring episode as part of the arrangement. Last night, also returning from the LD store, a brown T-shirted dude is coming toward me at the entrance to this building but stays outside, doing his coughing act while I open the door. Like WTF; it is cold and no coat, and then seems to be coming toward the door  but instead, loiters outside and then coughs, and then disappears. Blatant, and no cover story of being an underdressed pedestrian or apartment building dweller, just there for the brown shirt and the coughing act. Anyhow, this might all seem very subtle to those who read this blog, but it seems from this perspective that the Gangstalk and Abuse World that I have been consigned to are going to get worse, and without any apparent guise or pretense. Or plausibility that there was a conventional reason for each single event anomally of the conventional. Mind you, I get jabbed and whacked some 100+ times per day from no apparent source, but never when I am watching for a repeat. This too will likely change is what I am predicting.

Began the first daytime ripping of CD music yesterday, only one CD, but another five today. I don't know why this is significant, but after months of doing this activity only in the evenings, even if I had all day available, this sudden change of habit can only be perp managed. And I suppose, having some 300 CD's sitting around is also a big deal too, all those surfaces, pits and lands, just fascinating stuff for them. Back in the high abuse days with head pain pummelling I would place a CD next to my head and get instant relief, though interestingly, they are not magnetic.

Only a half hour snooze before dinner, unlike the marathon daytime snoozes of the prior two days. The perps got me up when they vibrated the bed. Which vibrates me of course, and I can do without that sensation running through me.

Busy ripping Cd's tonight, the system crashes magically disappearing tonight. At certain moments the overhead pounding started up, especially while listening to Laura Nyro samples from Amazon.

Before any more sudden PC crashes I will blog off and post this.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Instant Flu + Next Day Rambles

NOTE: this wasn't meant to be posted, but it did, even though incomplete. And in renaming this blog posting next day, the comments got toasted somehow. Funny how that happens.

A brutal evening over dinner, the perps rage-ifying me over 50x, in one of the loudest screaming abuse sessions to date. The jabbed me, caused things to move by themselves, put of food crumbs on surfaces where I had no contact/role in putting it there, put on fake touches from no apparent cause, and clattered objects with no seeming contact. Even with flue onset, the assholes didn't let up all evening over enraging me.

I am getting a severe cold or flu, and can feel its onset from head to toe. I didn't need to be riled up any more, as I feel so piss poor from this cold/flu.

Now Feb. 14, 2011
I slept four hours in the evening last night, waking up in my clothes at midnight, so I took them off and got into bed for a 8 hour sleep. And a three hour sleep this afternoon, so this immuno-tussle is continuing, with me taking echinacea and vitamin C to bolster my immune system to deal with this apparent flu. There is some mild coughing, often strategically timed, but the threat of a deep lung infection/congestion from yesterday has abated for now, though a sore throat beckons in its place. In the long past I wondered how I got these wicked flus seeming from nowhere with the worst timing; at a small training sessions or conferences I had arranged, and it just pissed me off I was in such roug shape to attend, or that I had experts from outside giving a presentation. Now I know why such bad timing somehow happens.

Another big flue moment was when we brought a poodle puppy home, or at least my then spouse and daughter did, as I was flu bound and on the couch when the dog arrived, who promptly jumped up onto my chest and sat there, doubtless a perp scripted moment.

So no doubt getting the flu or a cold is a big enegetics change, and it seems that the perps need to do this every now and again, in concert with significant events. Not that I have that totally figured out, but I did start a new breakfast regimen today, yogurt, granola and a diced kiwi fruit. And still the sour yogurt taste got throuh, so will have to find a remedy for this problem as it won't be a permanent solution if this continues. I Note my in-town brother had this same breakfast, so perhaps this is a First Feral Family convergence, and getting me off the breakfast cereal with its brown flakes that are adorned with salt (white) and pepper (black) pinhead or smaller sized dots on them, presumably as some kind of color reference on each flake.

The rage-fication was high this morning at breakfast but has since calmed some, though it shows they have no respect when they bring both of these to bear at the same time. The Fuckwits are out of control.

A second visit to LD last night, now allowed to find the echinacea as I couldn't for my afternoon visit and the gangstalking scene that was SRO.

And another oddity in the gangstalking department; a 4'10" (very small) red coated small woman was doing 60' long back-and-forths behind me at the bus stop yesterday morning, while I was waiting for the bus to arrive. And lo, if she doesn't get on too, and sits in front of me in the next row. My dusk onset redcoat it would seem, and at one point in the ride, she stands up, turns around and looks at me for two seconds or so, and then sits down again. I haven't had anything so obvious as this before, but there is a first time for everything.

Then another first, when at the LD store Visit #1 yesterday, this woman turns the corner to arrive 8' in front of me, and mentions something to the pharmacy staff, having a little social call it would seem, and then in "response" she flashes a strange grin with pursed lips and both upper and lower incisors exposed, then turns the corner out of view. The gangstalking was so bad I took my RX and got out of there, and lo, if there isn't this same woman leading me out again, and to the local supermarket. Normally, the Fuckwits pose as customers, dawdling and dip-shitting to get in my way sometimes, but she didn't and was decidedly without a cover story. Two oddities in one day, the latter putting on a bared teeth pose to seemingly test my reactions to it I reckon. Teeth baring has been noted before, and is a sign of intense hostiliy, something the perps want me exposed to every so often. And no doubt, coming closer the next time.

The regular Tuesday bell practice in the next block started up for my prior tea-time and with the chocolate the perps always want me to eat. This time they broke up the bar inside the package, down to every square but one, it having two squares. And so it goes.

I am going to post this now, as I don't know how my eveing will go, and they could drain me of motivation again, and have me sleep again. Another two hour nap before tea-time in this fogged and clogged state, and also good for inserting visual perturbances too, from the perp perspective. So I will blog off for today, and hope that the flu state will improve tomorrow, but I am not too sure about that.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

A Muddy Sunday

It rained most of yesterday, so today's daffodil picking was rather muddy to say the least, managing to get all over my pack and onto the just-picked flowers, and even the perps doing their teleport thing by lobbing mud in front of where I was working, the slow travelling clump that arrives with accuracy to make the most mess and doesn't come off me or anyone else. And they were up to their flower meddling games again, teleporting picked flowers (which are counted as I pick them) from my hand and have them arrive at my feet, with no sensation of the flower slipping from my hand. At least 60 of these events today, maybe more, and they besieged me with them on the first picking day. I can now pick over 400 bundles (each of ten flowers) a day now, a whole $80 pay. So much for the 1,000 bundles a day nonsense everyone feeds the newbies.

And it seems that yesterday's rain timing, and having me dress in outdoor clothes and not work outside was all about having me put them back in the drawer and then wear them today, "readyiing" the clothes a day in advance it seems. Another "so what" from my experience, as I am so fed up of all these games over clothes laundering, clothes combinations, and the rest of the combinations and permutations when one adds in laundry, prior short term wear, clothes colors and fabrics, laundry detergent type and water selection and the rest of the parameters that feed whatever their obsession is over clothing.

Even if it was a Sunday, the adjacent vehicle noise and the overhead aircraft noise were as sustained as a weekday. Even a siren show, and coincidentally, two nearby daffodil pickers converged on me to make chat. It seems they need me to speak to a real person every so often, getting a direct shot of their fugliness. And the turban crowd were on the job and again, the Mr. and Mrs Punjabis-Who-Stare-At-Me wer brought on the job again, having suffered their gangstalking and posing for months last year. He wears an infernal turban, and does it up like Bin Laden, so it makes it all the worse IMHO. And at the day's end, he even asks me if I had a good day, which is totally out of character as all he did was stare before. I suppose this was to have me look at him and his turban momentarily. And more turban strutting from two others who linger around the warehouse to meet up with spouses on daffodil picking. Yesterday it was Meet-The-(Blue)-Turban outside of the warehouse door, and today, it was arranged some 5' inside from the same door. If I don't like turbans and nearly all head adornments, why in the fuck is this being arranged for me every day?

And a "bag head" on the bus when outbound; a hoodie with a rounded top that drooped back from the Fuckwit's head, making the back of his head look extended by 6" or so. I just about puked over that. And it seemed that disgusting visage was arranged by having me view a parka hooded person for multiple times, and the the bag-headed Fuckwit sat next to the parka hooded person as some kind of entre to determining why I find some headwear so utterly repugnant. And to remind readers; I never had these kinds of "reactions" to hoodies and bag-heads before, so I am being mananged in some way to have a reaction, likely planted. And one that seems to have subconcioius traumatization associations from the memory wiped years, when age 2 to 5. (Lets think, what race or beings have a head with an extended rear portion?)

Extensive sample listening of Laura Nyro from Amazon tonight while ripping CD's from WAV's to FLAC's. Sometimes I wonder if I should just copy the WAV's and be done with the compressing part, says me, now halfway through my CD collection. I won't be the first person to rip their CD's more than once.

Anyhow, time to be off to bed for an early bus to the picking fields for another round of getting closer to the color yellow.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Lunch then Rain

There seems to be something big going down today, harassment-wise, but it is hard to put a finger on what it is. It started out with the perps dumping a teaspoon of ground coffee from the just-opened package of coffee (and putting on adversity in opening it and finally cutting off the mangled top of it), dumping it on the stovetop, burner, floor, oven handle and down under the burner in the catch pan. Just plain gratuitous coffee mess, their trademark, as they didn't bother to shake my hand that was holding the spoon or anything like that. Anyhow, only a short rage-ification over that, their brown color games starting up.

After breakfast and when in the bathroom and shaving (always a prime Fuckover activity), they started up the door closing thudding, lock clatter and the squeaky door noise from the hallway, at least ten iterations, and then posted dude talk on the other side of the wall, again from the hallway. Anyhow, when this was all over and I was changing into clothes and putting on my watch, I see it is 1030h. I woke up at 0700h this morning according to the clock, and at most it would of been 0930h. I checked the time on the kitchen stove clock, and then online, and it was in fact 1030h. So... some asshole dialed my alarm clock by an hour in the night, as I had been using it to get up at 0500h for the recent daffodil picking job.

My intown brother phoned during breakfast to respond to the phone message I left him yesterday, about pruning his front bushes, a job that got screwed around last weekend because he hid the extension cords.(He was away in Thailand for a month and I looked after his cat while away, back a week). I said I would come over, and the usual arrangement is that I know where the key is, and find my own way around due to his intinerant garage sale habit. I get dressed in my garden work clothes, and aim to get a bus in short order, and then a sudden need to crap comes on. I duly comply, and then find out the perps plastered my ass in shit in one of the most unusal messes to date, in all nine years of being harassed over taking a shit. So more delay, to take a shower to clean up, and it seems there is plenty of perp mileage in having me remove clothes in short order, after about 20 minutes of wearing them. So... I get set again to take a later bus, and head out into Gangstalk Land, my name for the streets of Victoria BC.

The usual proliferation of high arm swinging gangstalkers are out in place, though not too wierd, and then I am 60' from the bus stop when two dudes arrive 12' in front of me, and don't bother to make room on the sidewalk, which is at least 10' wide, and lo, if there isn't a constriction in the sidewalk due to a panel sign from the adjacent business, and this fucker still doesn' make any room on the sidewalk. His buddy is, and is smirking away, but the dude closest pretends he doesn't have a clue how utterly fucking rude he is, and still doesn't get it when I ask that he move over, waiting for him to go past as I am impeded by the street sign panel (painted plywood). Like WTF; this fucking dude-rudeness is suddenly getting worse, and I have yet to be convinced it doesn't spell orchestrated threat simulation.

Anyhow, the bus comes on time for once, and I was on the city bus freakshow, true enough, there were some odd ducks on board who didn't need to go far, and it always seems most odd that they don't walk instead for all the overhead time it takes to get a bus, (planning per schedule and waiting). I get my usual escort off the bus, this time two women, and lo, if one doesn't pull the identical stunt at the same location as the last time I was there; she is walking on my usual route, so I cross the road and walk on the other side, and lo, if she doesn't jaywalk 30' further and crosses the road to end up on my tail, and lo, if there isn't another fucker coming toward me at that moment, carrying the obligatory cigarette.

It is starting to rain, and as it "happens" (nothing never happens due to random chance in my existence) said brother is driving by and stops to give me a lift to his place. He says the rain is seeming to come to stay, and it isn't the transitory shower, and I agree, and say that I will hang out at his place, and have lunch there (if that is OK with him), and he says it is fine. I also mentioned that I need to go over the timesheet I sent him by email, the record of the cat care in his absence. Fine, and I see he found two extension cords, one plugged in, and had my gumboots sitting outside next to the electric pruning clippers. Funny that for a person so pressed for time that he spends it getting me ready for the pruning job.

All this at 1100h or so, and he tells me all about his holiday in Thailand and what it was like, and what travelling was like and the rest of it, at least an hour's worth. All this time I was listening to him, and then later we went over the spreadsheet I sent him and agreed on the cat care hours. I have lunch there, listening to what he was saying, and just when finishing up he says he has to go and soon, due to garage sale commitments. Fine, I say, I will depart on my own steam and lock up, as it is still raining outside, precluding any pruning work. Then he says he would drive me to a certain location on his intended route that I don't need to go to, and I turn down his offer. Then he suggests another location, which again, is contrary to my intended return direction. Then he finally says he would drive me to Esquimalt and Head street where I catch the bus, and I accept the offer.

Getting in the van turns out to be another First Feral Family stunt; getting in, and recalling that he "forgot" something, going back inside, dithering around at the door, and then pulling the electrical cord from the socket, and finally getting back in. In every instance of having vehicle rides with the FFF, they all started up this constant bullshit of delaying vehicle entry, protracting it or else getting out again, all of them. On the way there I ask him why he has frozen and canned salmon in the vehicle, his trades van, and he says it is for someone. Like WTF; I just had some of his canned salmon for lunch, as did he, and here is taking some along for a mysterious "someone". As we approach Esquimalt Rd where the bus route is, one crosses by 60' ahead at the traffic light controlled intersection. I tell my brother not to go silly over attempting to get me on it, as the buses run every ten minutes and I can wait out another. But he decides that he would, and with a left turn lane and a through lane ahead of him, he takes the through lane, when turning left would of got me to the bus still sitting in the bus stop. But instead of going straight through, per traffic lane markings, he makes a left instead, pulling an all-star perp dumbshit stunt like I have seen them do on occasion. He then pulls ahead of the bus stop, and he tells me it is still there as passengers are still boarding, looking in the mirror, and I bail out, and dash back along the sidewalk to get the bus. I seem to be the last person to board, and somehow, some dude ends up on my ass at the payment box while getting my bus pass out. Funny how it happens, these types ending up from behind me from nowhere, the second time today. I get to the back of the bus where there is a seat, but in a streak of rude-dudeness, one dude has three seats occupied, so I end up sitting over two bucket seats. The usual city bus freakshow ensues, getting five dudes with brushcut hair all around me, and one redcoated hoodie girl. The bus just crosses the blue bridge and is finally getting to my bus stop to get off, and lo, if there isn't two wierds hauling a 17' red fiberglass canoe across the street, crossing ahead of the bus' path. Anyhow, I get off with a four dude consort who seem to have me covered in knowing which direction I headed, away from the canoe stunt.

I walk some two blocks to my place, and lo, if there isn't yet another dude coming at me again. I just don't get it why so many supposed pedestrians are not only walking in my intended path and making a sudden diversion some 10' ahead, but are now making steps to walk directly into me. It is fucking insane that I am not allowed to walk anywhere without threat of collision or worse. Bad enough that I get run-down attempts when on the crosswalk with the traffic signal, but to get someone in my face when walking on a public sidewalk is going to get fucking ugly real soon.

So now that I get to ponder about this morning's games, the big question is what was it all about? My brother making the left turn from the through lane to get me to the waiting bus with a minimum of street transit time, or what? And keeping a sample of the prior lunch food (canned salmon) I had to eat in the van with him? Don't know, but it was all too fucking stupid, and it would never of happened if it weren't raining, as I would of done the pruning job at his place. Go figure....

Relative calm for the past hours of web surfing, with stereo music players and components being a strange "need" to be updated on. I cannot afford any such luxuries, and here I am being made to look at $10k CD players, surely an anachronism by now, as a digital file will sound as good they say. Even some of the high guru of audiophilia have come to that conclusion. Everytime I have a look at all the interesting audio equipment I re-design the ideal system, and I suppose this fits the perps pattern of having me covet particular gear, then something else later, and so it goes, sometimes fed by FFF mentions of them getting a system, which never comes to fruition.

The earmuffs were getting very noisey with this rumbling din setting up in them, and that is how it goes in TI World; objects that ordinarily offer protection are exploited to be deleterious. And of course, that can change overnight, or whenever they decide that years of wearing hearing protection from the cacaphony of orchestrated noises no longer serves their purposes. More like, it is that I have dark green plastic earcups, white acoustic foam, and a metal band and a black vinyl band cover close to my head that really serves the purpose, likely some kind of color and material energetic reaction, unless anyone else out there has any other suggestions as to why the perps parade objects by, often arranging touch or some form of contact in the process. Or, getting close, like today's Fuckwits coming at me. Funny how pedestrians are changing their walking habits; LH drive, coming at me, and today, a sudden burst of a seeming independent gangstalkers that desparately needed to pass me on the R side, even if up against the store windows. Just plain fucking beserk is what the perps are.

An early bed time tomorrow to get up at 0500h for a 0638h bus to the daffodil farm. It was raining most of the day, so it should be boot sucking muddy out there tomorrow pickin daffodils for 20 cents a bunch. A tedious way to keep the cash flow up after the recent perp caused expenses.

Some interesting web site browsing tonight, and that kept me occupied enough for the last two hours, with plenty of bookmark action that the perps like so much. And too, the smudging of my eyeglasses every evening now, one or both lenses to varying opacity, a seeming important evening time testing game the perps have going.

Without further ado, I shall blog off and the next few weeks of blogging will be slim as the farm job sucks 12 hours out of my day, and I suspect it will be nearly every day until the end of Febuary when the let us locals go and had the imported Mexican labor do all the work.

Science Time

An unexpected day off from daffodil picking, getting a phone call from the farm manager to say that the fields are going to be left alone until Feb. 13th, when picking will resume. I got to complete on my errands today, ones that got started last week and needed me to come by and pick things up. One pair of shoes had to be fixed, and alterations to six pairs of dress pants, and the Seasonic X series box and extra cable sets was "forgotten" by the outfit that was fixing my PC last week. And I see it has slowed down since resuming the FLAC ripping of CD music files using Exact Audio Copy (EAC). I have no idea why this is so, but I see that the Google settings and the Firefox settings are now both allowed to persist, so those vexations were removed.

And a hour nap attack before I went out the door to the next block to get my alterations, as she hadn't finished them yesterday when she said they would be ready last week. She said she was sick one day, and maybe so, but as it "happened" I had today off, per afternoon phone call, and had a demotivated spell about picking them up around 1800h when she closes up the shop. I have to say, it was an excellent job all round, and the two pairs that had the crotch pulled in feel a whole lot better when wearing them. And of course we all know who can remotely manipulate "eelings and perceptions, and are getting better at it all the time, now planting micro-objections should they see fit. So, with six pairs of dress pants, all that I own, getting altered to fit, is this a harbinger of an office job under the perps' thumb, or was it just an exercise is having them removed for color combination purposes from the closet only 4' away from this desk as I sit and type? As always, I have no idea, and want to be left alone.

This year might be the transition from disabled (har, har) to real work, and maybe some decent income, though there are so many loose ends on this concept it is difficult to say. Do they want me to continue horticultural work, the fancy name for farm work, or are the petroleum and earth diggings more important? Or, is it the database and information storage work more important? All three are major perp themes, and each has had some rotation in the scheme of things, the farm work having limited earth diggings exposures, such as pulling weeds and picking potatoes after the tractor has dug them up. I saw some grey colored soil on the sidewalk today, having to go over it due to a constriction in full sidewalk width, so it is likely that the soil exposure games are also tighly bound by the color games they like to play too.

I am cleaning out some bookmarks and have enough to put together a little science that the perps seem to want to share with me for reasons only known to them. That is the topic of subatomic particles, neutrinos in particular. As we function on Earth, we have millions of neutrinos passing through us every second of our lives, and it seems that they come from the sun, directly or through the Earth and through us, and similarly from other sun-like planets from afar. And if I am suddenly finding neutrinos interesting, you can be sure it isn't me, but a planted theme from my keepers. Have a read if you find this interesting, as it seems the perps do, making this TI World all the more interesting, fraught as it is. A new neutrino observatory in Antartica is near completion, and it seems that it is needed to understand these particles and where they come from. I am sure there are other objectives in all this that only the perps know about, and they aren't saying, except by way of inference that the plight of their TI abuses are tied in too. If you follow the link, click on the blue graphic for the short story.

Another link on neutrinos and how they might be influencing radioactive decay rates. It seems that the sun is on a 33 day rotation, and that the neutrinos are somehow influencing radioactive decay rates which are supposed to be constant. This introduces the possibility that either the neutrinos are having an unexpected effect or else there is another mystery particle emanating from the sun. Neutrinos are relative lightweights, and are not expected to be able to influence radioactive decay rates. Enough on neutrinos, and I have no idea if this interests the readership or not, but seems to be part of the perp quest, or more like, set of objectives that have attached to their abuses (they would say experiments) of TI's in total. Another way of saying that they won't be done for years, maybe even ten or more.

Another science activity the perps like me to know about is quantum entanglement, the property of shared energy and spin, such that if one subatomic particle (ion, electron) of a pair (or more) is perturbed, then all are instantaneoulsy perturbed in the same way, even if apart (detectable up to 25 km so far). And so quantum entanglement now detectable in solid state by us Earthlings, moving along on what might really the perp agenda. Enough science, but it was interesting that the overhead clunking started up as I was composing this paragraph, heard through my earmuffs for hearing protection (blocking out perp noise as much as possible, though likely with other agendas in mind, such as having green plastic objects either side of my head with a connecting black vinyl band).

Next day; meant to post this last night but was consumed with the fact that my CD ripping was going so well and wasn't sabotaged by a suddenly slow PC.

Wednesday, February 09, 2011

Daffodil Day Three + next day revamp

The infernal sound of motorcycles tonight, at least the fifth went by as I started this blog posting. Earlier, motorcycle noise accompaniement while eating chocolate with my tea.

The maser balls are getting very persistent of late, more like mosquitoes up north, that just keep coming at one.

Daffodil picking started 1.5 hours later than usual, due to frost conditions which freeze the stems solid and make picking problematic. It seemed like another big perp event day today. A nut shave last night usualy brings on the crazy stuff the next day, and it began with the work delay, where I spent 30 minutes in the staff room that was heated. Then the bus driver found me, (har, har) and so it was time to put on my rain clothes, also very good for muddy conditions. And so, with the three E. Indian women who started today, I was driven to the picking fields, where we waited close to an hour. More male banter of course, not to mention a couple of male ponytails for me to be exposed to, fucking disgusting if you as me. But the perp seem to want to expose me to these irregular gender hair and clothes, and all the better if I loathe the sight of them. Or more accurately, before the perps went overt/beserk on me in 04-2002, I really didn't care either way as to if males wore ponytails, and all the rest of the now called Unfavored demographic groups, but since then, the perps have rendered me down into instant dislike mode toward any Unfavored specimen.

I suppose this morning's male banter was to continue with that at the end of the work day yesterday, this over-extended joshing that went on, seemingly much contrived. But I did learn that the Greek army recruiting will go back three generations to determine draft eligibility, and one person recounted how their friend, born to Greek parents in Canada, was pulled off his departing flight and sent into the military even if he spoke no Greek for 18 months of service. One of those interesting factiods that the perps will likely arrange for me to repeat sometime into the future, which is how it usually goes, as information source and retained knowledge is a huge component of their harassment and abuse games, as if 100% remotely applied mind control weren't enough.

Another 315 daffodil bunches picked today, making it a $63 day, not exactly the road to riches, but at least something to do and to keep the cash flow up after the latest plundering by way of PC repairs after the sabotage attacks last month. Plus a new power supply, and all that was good for $450. And I see this PC is slowing down again after last night's CD ripping, only getting two done. On with the PC sabotage show, and I am still getting my Google settings changed on me after each shutdown, and the same for my saved tabs on start-up getting removed, and forcing log-ins each time I start this machine up. Freaking tedious.

And I finally noticed, or more like it, the perps reminded me, that there was an inordinant number of produce trucks and prepared (ie. cut up) produce trucks driving near the daffodil farm property yesterday, and too, "happening" to be frequent in parking or driving the roads on my morning walk to the bus stop. So now, I get it, sort of; having me cut daffodil stems for a living also has some kind of common energetic properties with cutting food up, plant material as well. And accordingly, I did some research on plants, and that they have a means to communicate with each other, and act as biosensors in effect. And this site (Randall Fontes) isn't the best for a logical presentation, but is readable enough to convey the ideas of there being an energetic medium whereby plants can actually communicate with humans, and vice versa. The perps had me read the book, The Secret LIfe of Plants, by Tompkins and Bird back in 2003, and it was very readable and objective. It is most interesting that these revolutionary experiments are parked and nearly forgotten, even if this book stayed on the NY Times bestseller list at length. And Sir Jagadish Chandra Bose was also prominent in his day of researching plant communications, and that plants feel pain, though all too typically, it wasn't widely followed or researched since. He also detected EMF signals from plants in his radio wave studies.

Three long paragraphs got lopped off and I am screaming pissed that I spent 30 minutes putting this together and got screwed again. And in it I did say in it that I am so fucking fed up with the escalated sabotage that I don't want to be around when it gets any worse. Being at the end of one's tether for 8.5 years is enough. I am blogging off and am totally infuriated that this diumbshit Blogspot/Perp Front didn't save my work.

Next Day Rewrite;

What was I mentioning that was so important that it got deleted? Was it the turban setup at the end of the work day yesterday? One non-turbaned E. Indian, one smooth turbaned (pale blue) E. Indian, and then another with a more ragged edged turban (light blue and white). The backstory being that three E. Indian women joined the daffodil picking crew yesterday, all long time pickers, and ones that I met last year. And I suppose, the three variations on E. Indian head wear was that these were the three spouses coming by to pick up their mates from the returning crew bus. Well I suppose, but given that the perps having me loathe the sight of turbans and nearly all head adornments, hoodies especially of late, I reckon they were doing a "turban test" on me just as I exited the crew bus.

But no such excuse for the Volvo vehicle carrier truck making a corner at Fort and Douglas streets, the heart of downtown and near my bus stop at 0720h. A full tractor-trailer load of Volvo vehicles was at least one mile from the Volvo dealership and headed in the wrong direction altogether. So what was it doing there if it wasn't gangstalking? As a background on this, the perps had me owning and driving a Volvo 245 from 1991 to 2006 until I had to give it away, being made too broke to keep it. So... it would seem there is some kind of Volvo steel (and other materials) interaction that the perps were testing, and that they wanted a bulk lot of new ones, without the engines running, and some stacked, as it was a two deck car carrier. I cannot count the number of vehicles that "happen" to be towed or else carried on the one vehicle tow-carriers in my proximity, but every so often the perps need to run a car carrier worth of new vehicles past me. They had me in a car dealership part-time cleaning job from 12-2008 to 08-2009, though not Volvos. I suppose it is as close to owning a new vehicle that I will get, for whatever that benefits the sickos.

Other perp jerkarounds was a blatant case of pit-lamping me at the bus stop yesterday; some asshole pulls some 60' away off to the side of the road and leaves his headlights on, trained on me. Not even the usual bullshit excuse of reading a map or some such, just blatant headlight stalking. It doesn't get too much more obvious, but the pit-lamping, or "brighting" some TI's call it, has increased of late. And if a vehicle has only one headlamp working I can be sure it is trained on me alone, whether driving or as a pedestrian.

Another jerkaround was the pre-maturely soured milk; the Best-Before-Date was Feb. 14, and it was off on Feb.08. Then I went to the local supermarket to get groceries, "forgetting" the milk. The same deal the next evening of  Feb. 09, when I had a shorter list, though with some distractions, and yet again "forgot" the milk. I was royally pissed as I don't forget these kinds of things on my own. And now, Feb. 10, they let me get the milk, but it alone, and not in a grocery bag. I got the final stare from the cashier, much like I did earlier today when at the bank, getting rolls of coins. WTF; the same stare at the same moment in the transaction for the same duration.

Tuesday, February 08, 2011

Daffodil Day Two

A second day of picking daffodi flowers in the fields for piece rate, $0.20/bunch. The forced finger fumbling wasn't as bad, but stil pervasive. And the picked ones in hand that were teleported from my hand when it came to bundle them were less, but this insant bullshit stunt was still prevelant. And the stunt of teleporting the brown elastic bands that wer hung on a carribiner in readiness also erupted today, reminding me that it happened last year too. The STRATCOM overflights, or noise thereof, were down to 10 or so today, and the Sea King helicopter doing its low horizon passes was also out for less duration, maybe 10 minutes for three N-S passes this time. But I was constantly dithered as to what number of flowers I picked, counting to ten consistently is not allowed. Any time I switched to another 25 elastics on a carribiner usually brought on all kinds of noise, handling those brown colored elastics is just too interesting for the sickos.

I picked 365 bunches today, when the real pros can get 800 to 1,000, and I don't ever expect to be that good, given that I am managed to be a finger fumbling wreck. I might get to 400 bunches one day, but it better be soon as these are prime picking days, early in the season. That would be a $80 day if I picked 400, so we shall see if that happens or not. Competence is not allowed, especially motor control competance in this TI's world, and maybe it is true for others, I don't know.

And the assholes arranged it so I missed the bus again, having it come 10 minutes earlier than yesterday when they faked me out into thinking I had missed when it went by as I was walking to the main bus stop. Interesting that a layover bus that was there today, wasn't there yesterday at the same identical time. Funny how the perps can unilaterally fuck with bus schedules and timing, not to mention the onboard freak show. though save one strange bald dude in sunglasses, it wasn't too bad.

Much outside noise like backup beeping and heavy duty vehicle noise and church bell practice going on while I had the brown elastic bands on the carpet and was counting them into groups of 25, six in all, to hang on each of six carribiners for ready use in the daffodil field tomorrow. I am now routinely noisestalked, and sometimes disrupted by other when counting bunches of daffodils, counting to 10 to make up a bunch, and too, the elastic bands get counted up as well. Counting items is a big deal, and it makes one wonder how much the perps follow children when they are learning these concepts.

Other bullshit was the assholes waking me up at 0300h and having me locate my illuminator watch to see what the time was, but lo, if they didn't piss with it and not display the time, but then beeped it and changed some of the digital time and date settings. As this is a new watch, and even if the same make, the instructions are different and it was a screaming rage match this morning to get only some of the functionality back. Needless to say, they also fuck with my ability to read instructions, and sending me on the wrong path or obstructing is totally hilarious abuse for the perps. Another exasperation to deal with, fixing the watch settings they fucked at 0300h, per alarm clock.

And I noticed on the outbound city bus freakshow they aren't putting on the dude force around me like on my regular route to the First Feral Family. They need more women around me for some reason, and it was about four of each. The FFF bus route often has  five to ten dudes ringed around me, and not needing a "warm up" from women first, who vacate their seats to have dude show up in one or two bus stops. All too predictable as it is fucking stupid for the sickos to spend 8.5 years harassing me over who I like to sit near on the bus. Stupider and stupider. Bring on the brown skins next is my prediction.

I am going to call this one done and blog off as I don't know if I will get much done later tonight, early bedtimes now.

Monday, February 07, 2011

Daffodil Duty

A day of working in the farm field of daffodils, cutting the flower stems at the appropriate length, bunching them in 10's, and getting paid $0.20/bunch. That is a whole lot of bunches to make a decent payday, and I reckon it was a $60 day, over 300 bunches. And as usual, when starting a new endeavor, or in this case, one that is seasonal and comes around once per year, the perps go beserk with all manner of setups, stunts and other games. Starting with fumbling my fingers, and making sure my fine motor control was duly suppressed and fucked with; constant "misjudgement" of finger actions, missing grasping objects, the wrong side of the knife being used and hundreds of other imposed abuses of my own motor skill capabilities, make it one fucking nasty day. And one to repeat most days of this month to pay for some $450 in blatant PC sabotage they undertook. But, at least th weather was mostly cooperative, almost balmy sometimes, and suddenly changing to a light rain that didn't last long, just a sprinkle. And that made for many differing cloud and cloud color combinations, always a big deal for the perps. And too, STRATCOM aircraft noise was ramped up, at least 15 on the day when they are supposed to be on random assigned flight paths. The Sea King helicopter was back, making low horizon trips W to E and then looping back to the N. to then make the same trip, for some 40 minutes, and at least 10 trips, always seen in the same direction. And the usual spew of blackish beams coming from its radar dome as it swept low across the horizon. And the local float planes were also on their flight paths overhead adding to the aircraft noise. Then the road traffic noise was incessant, along with the color coordinated parade of vehicles, the silver greys featuring a significant amount of the time. Then multiple roofing jobs and their rat-a-tat noise that also follow me to every farm I have ever worked at, some jobs being legit, but others seemed to be only a noise game, as there were no roofing jobs in the direction the noise came from.

Other gonzo stuff today was having me wait outside the warehouse for a ride, and then two staff came in, one being the sales guy, who ordinarily doesn't go out to the field. But he is chatty, and he got out of the Left Hand drive vehicle, meaning the seat where there ordinarily would of been the driver's seat. But as these are tin-can used Japanese pickup trucks, they are LH drive, steering wheel on the R side. In the course of chatting, he took his clodded gumboots off and put on his clean steel toe boots he wears in the office, changing footwear 4' in front of me. And of course I wasn't allowed to have a clue at the time I was talking to him, and only in the last hour did the perps let me on to the fact that this was two of their favorite gangstalking/harassment stunts combined; LH drive vehicles (passenger from the L side, which ordinarily would been the driver's seat in North America) and their footwear and mud fetish. (A third major obsession in the mix, an Unfavored, is that he has excessive long hair for a male, something they constantly hound me with in the Unfavored parade of male gangstalkers). Anyhow, two stunts at once, plus the Unfavored hair.

Picking daffodil flowers will be my big income earner for this month, something I wasn't wanting to do, but as the financial pressure ramped up this past month, on with the plant cutting show, always a perp event, much as pruning and weeding is, and I cannot count the number of those jobs I have done for the past eight years of this insane abuse parade. According to Sir Chandra Bose, plants have feelings, and they evince pain, and this is electromagnetically detectable. I suppose the perps are looking for some kind of universal interaction between plant and me, and are too fucking insane to do anything but attempt to remotely detect it, rather than expediting their objective with cooperation. Even if the assholes have been tailing me and organizing and surveilling me since birth, as it seems

The vision impairment abuse is also on high tonight, so this blog posting will be limited as I will be duly provoking into doing something else. Accordingly, I will blog off for now, and also note that these postings will be much shorter this month as this gig is a 14 hour turnaround until I am fed and done with. Not much time for much else, but this is what they want me to be doing, besides the escalated number of typos tonight.

Saturday, February 05, 2011

Wild Mouse Pointer

Just before tea-time my PC mouse pointer went suddenly on the fritz, it barely moving in response to my efforts. So.. we play the clean-the-mouse games, where I take it apart, clean the inner surfaces, and put the insufferable thing back together again. Not that I was allowed to see how it was put together, as the trackball housing suddenly lept out and landed on the desk, and I didn't see it happen, even right in front of me and in my visual field. This is how it goes now; things move by telekinetic fuckery and I get my cognition screwed with so I don't see what actualy happened. But it seemed that the minimal cleaning demand "fixed it", despite crumbs inside that resisted picking up. And the Googone cleaner got coated on some parts, the desk and my hand. Again, that will likely convey some advantages of the "ether fuckers", as there is supposedly a separate chemical ether, which when perturbed, interacts with other ethers.

All very complicated, but there is no question that the perps like to have a chemical vapor in the air or around me in controlled circumstances. The bleaching of face cloths and hand towels isn't yet allowed, as they have me use some spot cleaners instead. I see my mother was doing some bleaching last weekend, so maybe they are researching with her abettance.

Said mouse problems suddenly erupted when I wanted to look up my brother's flight online, having just "found" the site named After I keyed in his airline, and then waited extra long minutes for a response to my search, the mouse suddenly went on the fritz. Just another example of the assholes at work; set me up and jerk me around.

And a 1000h get-up for a 9 hour sleep last night, and they did let me sleep within 30 minutes of getting into bed, a rarity this week. Last night they had me intrigued with recategorizing some of my bookmarks while listening to Neko Case, as these are the only WAV files I have on this PC, and Windows Media Player doesn' recognize the FLAC files I created. But the perps did screw me over "thinking" that the Windows Media Player missed these files, when in fact I formerly knew what the problem was as they jerked me around in the same way two weeks ago. And somehow, I "forgot" yet again.

A near shut-in Saturday today, only venturing out to attend to the laundry, and get riled up again as some white lint somehow descended on the seven black garments when there was no plausible cause, when in the washing machine. And since these are the syntheic fabric garments that I don't put in the dryer, this infernal lint sabotage stays on the garment unless I attempt to pull it off with my fingers. And lo, if my perp abetting mother doesn't phone when putting the wet synthetic garments on the drying rack to thereby protract the process and get that EMF spewing telephone reciever to my ear.

Tonight's music ripping finally got going, compared to the impediments yesterday.

Plenty of sirens today, and even the fire department came out next door timed when making lunch. These are yellow trucks for the City of Victoria, and I suppose that has been long worked out for perp color stalking purposes. The perps like to have separate color exposures and then bring them together, say, yellow and red clothed gangstalkers next to them. Back in 2006 to 2008 when I was doing the exercise program, the red fire truck of the Oak Bay fire department would often sit outside the bay windows to be seen when I was exercising. And if I was away from the windows, why, the fireman would come around with his clipboard (having sat in the red fire truck for some time), and peruse (gangstalk) me when deeper inside. And so it goes; combinations and permutations and spatial juxtapositions of kinds, colors, and variants of everything and seeming everybody in this gangstalk town.

Enough of the retread theme, and off earlier for a bath, and expose myself to where the new facecloth was soaking earlier today, cleaning up the bloodstains the assholes put on it this morning.

Friday, February 04, 2011

Zaps in the Night

My third or fourth night of some 3 to 4 hours of sleeplessness, followed by permitted sleep for 4 hours. As usual, no ill-effects or tiredness each day, and no cummulative effects. The usual head turning, one side, then the other, and back again, usually on the heels of noise from outside, all those hot-rods running around town at 0300h on a Monday night, har, har. But they did get more vicious; four zappings last night with simultaneous noise at the same instant, varying the noise some each zapping event. Deep clunks, light clunks and sharp tapping variants now accompany the zappings. And a never-before too; a simultaneous light flash with the first zapping, seen through my eyelids or else it was a direct neural intervention and simulation.

And too, they have me scream at the fuckers, post-zapping, but now they have made my voice hoarse to add yet more sound/noise variations into the mix, the putative result "from" rage-ification screaming at the assholes for so many times this week, to extreme rage levels of the 2003 to 2006 days. A visit to the in-town brother's place later today, to retrieve the pruned willow stalks from his bathtub that I put in there yesterday, part of this sudden need to do wicker weaving, for the perps no doubt. Wicker furniture and household items are a big prop for the assholes, and Ms. C of the story had a wicker couch that was likely part of the entire scene before the perps went overt/beserk in 2002.

The laundry is on, always a big Fuckover activity, though they now leave me alone in the laundry room for the most part; so sudden arrivals of the coin retrieval operator in the too-small room or other smelly dudes. I had cotton towels and garments in this load, a bit unusual as they have me do separate towel loads for the most part, or else have me do towels with the bedsheets (same color). Maybe laundry item color complexity is being increased in keeping with the onset of much greater numbers of brown vehicles and brown wearing dudes on the bus and in ambulatory situations. The negroes are still getting the white color clothing treatment, though the one fucker who was stopped in the doorway for some deranged reason was wearing a turquoise colored hoodie. It seems turquoise might be another entre color, where they put browns, reds and yellows with it. Or else, have brown, red or yellow wearing gangstalkers follow the turquoise dressed Fuckwits. And it so happens, the umbrella I got last year is turquoise, the "must have" Blunt Umbrella that was delivered from New Zealand for crissakes, but it is a nice one, and hopefully the assholes won't steal it.

A visit to the in-brother's place, he still on holiday, returning tomorrow. I pulled all the willow stems soaking in his bathtub and did my mat weaving, and what an insane perp managed rage-ification exercise it was. Some three hours later I managed only one of the two frames, and had enough. And the perps still fucked me by loosening up some of the ends that I had tied down with wire. It never fucking ends; constant sabotage of every thing I do. And all the worse when the assholes send me onto a new activity.

Some music ripping tonight, the first in three weeks since the PC started slowing down, apparently "from" the antivirus software. And I see that it has slowed down yet again, so who knows where this one is going. Sometimes I wonder why we don't have a collective music database out there, and if we submit proof of purchase or ownership, then we should be able to download the file with all its metadata. Never mind everyone ripping their own music all the time, and we can make sure that these central versions are 100% bit perfect and lossless. Dream on.

Other PC sabotage continues; the Firefox tabs aren't coming back on restart, so I am obliged to open up my usual 4 tabs or so every Firefox browser session. The Google settings keep getting changed too,a and they have greyed out my ability to have more than 10 pages displayed per search. And the mouse pointer takes sudden and unbidden arcs to the left to go off this display device, usually when no fingers or hand on the mouse. Go figure.

More bad news on the income tax front; the grant I got for taking the Oracle database courses is deemed as income, so I have a $3k of extra grant income to pay tax on. And of course I wasn't allowed to remember that, "finding out" from my T-4 slip I got in the mail todat.This wretched daffodil picking gig that will start next week was to pay for the PC sabotage of the last month, some $500 worth. I will be digging myself out of the income tax hole by the end of the next month. I can hardly wait.

Anyhow, onto posting this and blogging off and possibly another partial sleepless night again, if this current nightime pattern keeps up.