Sunday, March 13, 2011

Flower Picking With the Freaks

A brief half hour blog post for today's gangstalking highlights, plus harasment antics. I was picking daffodil flowers all day, keeping the wolf from the door at $0.20/bunch of ten. And more pickers today, meaning more people counting to ten all day long in wde open farm fields surrounded with road and aircraft noise, much of it faked, as some vehicles don't look like hotrods, and yet sound like they do. And more freaks too, from the Unfavored demographic groups; skinhead was one that was featured at length today, on the bus mostly as he didn't pick with us. A male skinhead flower picker arrived two days ago, somehow finding his spot to work when not on any crew, and the perps made sure they forced me to look at his disgusting bald head at least 20x in the last hour of the day.

It was a howling wind all day long and yet he didn't cover his pate at all. Another freak was the tattoo act on the way back in the crew bus; he sat behind me and propped his tattoo-ed arm up on my seat back, 18" away, and later did this with his knuckles near my head. Yet again, if I don't like tattoos and skinheads, I don't see why it is anyone's business but my own, and why I should spend close to nine years in purgatory for some hostile remote sensing outfit to arrange all these skits around me to observe these freaks. (Add dreadlocks, turbans).

And they set me up with the Fugliest Negro again today, having us meet in midfield as we were picking toward each other. Originally, a male Caucasian was in my row coming toward me as I re-started where I left off the day before, and then when I look up, the negro was swapped in and the other guy out. This is highly irregular as normally everyone picks a row of daffodils, and doesn't engage in row swapping as there is no reason. But somehow, all these strange crew movements occur, and the foremen don't do anything about it. The Fugliest Negro is keeping his dreadlocks out of sight by having his jacket hood tightly pulled around his face, something another negro did a few bweeks ago before I boared the bus, seeming part of the perp's games of "hide the negro" or a portion thereof. And lo, if he didn't have his dreadlocks on show when I exited the staff mud room, waiting for me around the corner. And I note that all the bus passengers (read, gangstalking assholes) leave the front two seats open for the negro to arrive and sit in one of them where he usually is, attempting to get some kind of auric glow from the male Caucasian driver, also the foreman, who seems to be an interesting well rounded person.

There seems to be featured gangstalkers each day; someone who makes the extra effort to be loitering around me or in my view much more often than normal. Today's one was this sleazy cool dude who was wearing his wraparound Oakleys one cloudy morning in the shadow of a large building where we marshall for work. I thought it was hilarious, and eventually he took them off, and kept them off. He was the featured loiterer today, and got very hostile very fast over who should take what row to pick when he was the one who butted in. Earning his asshole cred it would seem, something I have noted before, the instant asshole who doesn't need any provocation as they will create one. That he was in matching brown rainjacket and rainpants didn't earn him any points in my estimation either. Brown being one of the high harasment colors the perps like to place around me in the form of worn clothes, vehicles and other objects, even painted apartment buildings.

And at certain moments/events in the day there are arranged noise or gangstalkers. Whenever I take out my (brown) elastic bands and put them on two fingers the perps will just about always have someone cruising by. Then there is the French farm manager, as he makes these visits for no seeming reason, and isn't the expert on daffodils, but is for organic growing.

Other action in the morning when marshalling in the warehouse, is when I am counting up the elastic bands on my clips to have 25 per clip that makes it easy to load onto my fingers rather than fighting them directly from the plastic bag. The Mexican workers arrive all around me, being very brown some of them. The language barrier means there is no communication, and per script, they show no interest in what I am doing. They are dressed in dayglo colored clothing, the high-viz raingear that seems to be so popular now. This has occured three days in succession, and it seems to be natural enough, as they all arrive from the bus that picks them up in the morning. I could not say it is gangstalking, as they need to hang out somewhere inside before they get sent off for daffodil picking. But today, at least 20 white beam plasma flashes "happened" over the course of two minutes while I was in their presence. The beams were 20 to 30' long, horizontal and 1' to 2' off the floor. Everyone pretended they weren't there per usual, but clearly someone was creating these, and having them partially radiate from me.

There is a bunch of entries I was going to make in this blog, and they seemed to have dropped from my recall. I will call this one done for today, as I must go to bed early on flower picking days.

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