Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Moving the House

A long day, not farm work, but helping the farm owing family move houses, using their trucks and with other co-workers. First, a "starter hoe-ing job", which seems to be some kind of baseline for the perps to have me perform for 20 minutes before I got called off for moving house duty.

A total day of FUD; the boss' son whose house we are moving and his inexplicable absences in managing the event, as we don't know one room/person from the next, and he isn't on top of it. Then I am working with a Punjabi and an Asian, neither of which speaks much English, and seem to be inherently oblivious to the obvious at times. Then do loony things like attempting to get an item through a door when it won't fit, after being told as much at least twice. I constantly had to ask what was to be moved where, where we were headed, and getting vague answers.

I met the woman of the house, and I suppose she was there to strut her gorgeous looking self, save the tattoos above her ass and when the cigarette was hanging from her lips. She seemed to be a nice person, even nicer than promoted, as she was made to seem a harridan over the marks on the furniture that were put there by the children, before us movers arrived. I suppose that was part of the set up; have the reputation of an ogre set in advance, and then find the real person to be quite the opposite.

And as one farm worker somehow forgot his lunch, she made hot dogs and slathered them with ketchup and mustard, the infamous red and yellow colors. And it does seem that there is subconscious traumatizations set up over this color combination (DHL trucks all over the gangstalking scene), but also hot dogs themselves. At least one of my former colleagues went on and on with this term as a metaphor to describe his healing chest wound from open heart surgery back in 2003. Hmm... somewhere during the recall deleted abuses of 1956-1959 I was subjected to, that hot dogs, or the appearence thereof, are part of the present re-enactment scene. Isn't normal to make hotdogs and then provide the condiments to go on them, much like the fast food places do?

Later it was the red Gatorade test, having me drink a liter of it when parched in the afternoon. I already seen a hugh increase in red colored vehicles and red dressed ambulatory gangstalkers, so I wonder if they are doing some other kind of testing.

red gatorade later when parched in the afternoon

And what is it about moving others the perps like so much? I have moved over 50x in my life, and have helped others, Ms. C in 2000, and an ADD colleague in 2003, and did a odd job in 2007. All the juxtapositon of objects, brown boxes, people moving back and forth, the slow incremental build up of objects inside a box (of the moving truck), and then their decremental oppsosite when unloading. Just plain exciting for the perps, as well as meeting all the family members whose belongings we were moving. Other oddities were some E. Indians arriving for some reason that wasn't made clear, and their kids hanging around me for no reason, then the neighboring male loitering around for no seeming purpose as well. All their to strut their dubious shifless selves at the right perp moment.

I get the city bus at 1930h and end up two seats away from this dude doing waving and pointing while talking to his pals. How this threesome ended up on the bus save for gangstalking and harassment purposes is beyond me, as they didn't seem to be the typical bus traveller at that time of day, on a Monday no less.

But this inane and excessive waving and pointing has increased of late, with my perp abetting-mother doing something similar the day before. First it was outside, and then the perps fucked me over how to use her phone, and that was a setup to then have her do this again inside and with the phone (read, EMF signals at the head) in hand. If I cannot stand anyone's fingers in my face then why am I getting harassed this way, now for over nine fucking years?

Then the bullshit at working at the First Feral Family house; weeding mostly as I rebuilt the compost pile the day before, always a big perp noise event. I had my usual STRATCOM B-52 overflights, then lower altitude Turbo Beaver/Otter aircraft, then private aircraft. As usual, the lawnmower noise, leaf blower noise and other orchestrated perturbations of suburbia followed.

Not as long as a working day, though the same format; weeding for 20 min. with the boss using my hoe that I had just filed (though not enough to make it sharp), to demonstrate the technique he wanted. Essentially, all weeds around the straberry plant, including hand plucking the ones under the strawberry leaves. Apparently, yesterday's weeding crew (not me, I was moving the boss' son's house effects) weren't getting all the weeds. I was hoping for a whole day of weeding to aid in recovering from yesterday's strenuous moving work. Though, today wasn't as tough moving, but it still involved being in the FUD-zone with the language/logic barriers (a Punjabi an an Asian), and the inattentive boss' son.

And the cable installer was there today, crossing my tracks right and left, and wore the "uniform" of the male in big dumb shorts to his knees. What is it about this look that so interests the perps? Even the professional basketball players have this same dumb look. Then when I was out at the pickup truck the cable installer was at his truck nearby, cutting leaves and branches with his cable cutting tool. And have I not roundly and relentlessly complained that the perps go to no end to have me using knives, hoes and other cutting tools to then noisestalk me with aircraft, lawnmowers, vehicles, kids screaming and the like? And too, the same, though with a different noise complement when I am cutting up cooked chicken meat, or any other food item for that matter. What is it that fascinates the perps so much over cutting actions, cutting edge sharpening, use of various honing devices and the like?

Another go-round to get my  Paypal functional again, and I am getting totally screwed; no email response for my unknown password, and the auto-respond phone system has my old number and cannot seem to get it that the new one is valid, not the one they have. Check your email Rachael O.

Time to call this one done, sketchy as it is, but I haven't had much PC time to get the details down.

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