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
1410h
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.

1950h
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.

2300h
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.