Thursday, June 02, 2011

Back To Dulldom

I am a little wiped out today after a near 12 hour stint moving the boss' son's household for the third consecutive day. Then he tells me when driving me to the bus stop that there is no more work for a week or longer after I asked him about the next day. (He told me two days earlier there was a week's worth of work ahead, which encouraged me to purchase a bus pass for all of June). Naturally, some of my rain gear was still at the farm, so I will have to retrieve it in the next few days.  Part of yesterday's work was to cut the overly long lawn at his old house, and then again at his new house. Naturally, the lawnmower acted up with starting problems, cut grass blockages and then a one hour separation in getting the cutter blade height re-set as he needed a drill to pull the screw out that held the adjustment lever/linkage in place. Half the lawn at the old house was scalped down to brown at the lower setting, and then when the blade height was reset, the remainder of the lawn came out green. And of course this provided an excuse to mat cut grass on the soles of my socks, it somehow getting in a tight boot fit and under my foot. So, more grass clippings survived the laundering, needing to be removed from other items in the laundry load. The perps have a total sabotage effort/research program over cut lawns, which might be related to that of the larger picture, anything that is cut with a steel blade, from food, threads, fabric etc. Just to think I have a cheapo mandoline with a ceramic blade, purchased a year ago, and the perps are still at their blade cutting research games.

A three load laundry morning, which is very unusual, but it seems the perps wanted me to mix three different loads in one serial session; work clothes with added spot remover on one item and the spots of no known possible source. But first a towel load, all three regular use towels, and in characteristic form the assholes spotted the last towel with blood from no known source, a half inch diameter spot, and it didn't come from me, not even the pimple re-bleed excuse this time. Blood from nowhere last night, too late for laundering, that somehow stayed red until this morning. I had just removed the towel from its stored shelf location in the morning, and had a post-work shower last night when these large blood spots "showed up" from nowhere, and not me. Normally the perps inflict small lesions on me or perturb pimples as the ostensible cause, but this time, a first, is to have blood arrive from nowhere.

And above laundry sabotage also got changed up, forcing me to use the 8th floor for the first time, also with a dryer with plastic vanes in the drum. The usual 6th floor (where I live) laundry room isn't workable owing to a dryer that backs up with water cascading down the door, the laundry staying moist even after an hour. The new manager blew me off, but I see others with the same problem. This is a dryer with pressed metal lobes on the inside of the drum. Then in the last month the 7th floor laundry room, dryer at least, was used, it having plastic vanes on the inside of the drum. Though today, for the first time, it was backed up with laundry and that had me seek out the 8th floor laundry room, which has been vacant, save my three loads this morning.

In the high Fuckover days of 2005 to 2006, in a different residential tower, they had the laundry rooms every two floors. It was a building that seemed to be vacated entirely,except for the odd and obvious gangstalkers, some from my 1979 UBC forestry class no less, pretending not to know me. The laundry was problem enough that I took it to a laundromat that I could drive to, and get it done quicker than the jerkarounds with finding the laundry facilities in use or in disrepair. But then the laundromat shut its doors, and I began to use the facilities in the buildings. Not only was the gangstalking overt in the laundry room, but they also had them tied up, forcing me to go from the 4th floor where I lived up to the 12th floor to find an availible laundry room. This multi-floor "hunt the availble laundry facilities" game went on for months, nearly every time, and in mid-2006 they jerked me out of there to a boarding house. This place had no laundry room, so I would lug it all in a duffel bag three blocks to a laundromat. After some seven months of that, I was allowed to move back into a suite again, and I am still here at present with no plans to move. Which goes to show the perps need me to do my laundry on differing floors of a residential tower as part of their sabotage games on this front. Some of the most mundane things are the most intensely stalked, monitored and sabotaged.

A nut shave last night to the usual external sounds of 12" concrete ceiling/floor being pounded from above, to excessive elevator noise from the hallway, and even some extra loud stereo music. And it seems the perps are on this campaign to have me shave my legs for crissakes, even taking an extra swath off the top of my leg. I would imagine they will go for a incremental advance of instilling the leg shaving "habit", in razor width increments every few weeks. Such is how they operate, creating ever more step-wise increments, something like a book's pages being read. This is a busy day with the above mentioned three laundry loads, and at least four errands to do outside once this is done, and lunch in my tummy.

Other ongoing disruption this week has been to have me use my alternate backpack, one that hasn't been used for over 12 years. It was from my Oracle Open World attendence in 1996 when I co-authored a paper presented there. It is black, with some yellow details on in, including a 3"x3" yellow label, and has been messed with as the black fabric somehow got changed into grey on the top. The pack has been stored in closets and boxes all these years, and "somehow" they faded out the color in the threads themselves. Given the games that are going on over shades of black colors of late, including a patch (glossy deep black) on my ass of my work pants (matte black with greyed out ripstop nylon knee patches), the sabotage in the alternate backpack isn't too surprising.

Vacuuming and church bells, very unusual for a Thursday in the latter case. They have their bell ringing practice on Tuesday evenings, not Thursday afternoons. Now, overhead clunking has started up just to add to the noisescape that is so highly managed for me (it seems). And as mentioned, vacuum cleaners seem to have some kind of properties they wish to add into the picture; I get no end of "suck trucks" coursing about me or crossing my path, and it is a favorite practice of the perps to add in a
vacuum cleaner into the scene around me.

An earlier trip of two blocks to downtown was quite the insane gangstalking scene. They wanted to pass me on the R side as much as possible and positioned their Fuckwits to force this, or have them come straight at me, and have me dodge around them. The oblivious act is getting very thin, as this town seems to suddenly have so many who are walking about pretending not to notice their sidewalk egress obstruction stunts. They even had one orange shirted Fuckwit run straight at me on the crosswalk, and as soon as the "flight or fight" alarm bells went off for me the Fuckwit stopped running. I have seen so many silly street running gangstalkers that I cannot count them all up, but running straight at me got my attention real fast and I was getting ready for a physical alteraction until he adroitly stopped some 10' away and reverted to walking.

And what is with the E bound orange colored backpack stalkers? Two yesterday with the idential orange colored backpacks, one block apart, both E. bound. This was after I got off the bus, and the second one was utterly rude in getting in my way and crossing my path 4' in front of me, all timed to perfection by keeping the pedestrain control lights on for longer so the Fuckwit could get in close while I was waiting at the corner. Then today, a slightly different color orange male backpacker was doing on/off loiter duty while E. bound, some 40' away.

And another skunk at the card shop, and no wrapping paper either. Two women were posted outside, one looking straight forward like a sentry, the other one attending to a purse of something, having just exited. So, I get to pass between them, and lo, if the sentry woman doesn't tail me in and arrive in the aisle behind me, pretending to look busy. The music in the store suddenly got static on their sound system and it took at least three whole minutes before they did something. Out of there, having been skunked there before, but I wasn't allowed to recall that until afterward. What is it about cards and wrapping paper and screwing me around in finding some that the perps find so interesting?

Then onto the dry cleaners to deal with the pen leak sabotage that erupted in my day pack. As mentioned, I have been going all week with the alternate backpack, and was approaching the drycleaners when two men, 20' apart, dressed in identical white uniforms came into view,  both E. bound, one at the traffic light and the Phillipino male with a deep grey hoodie on jaywalking in mid block opposite the drycleaners. When I get inside I am the only customer, and after providing the details, the granny cashier tells me that the manager will bring out my pack. Then comes a large gutted male and he props himself at the next, though vacant, customer countertop station. And lo, if the manager doesn't deliver the pack in its plastic drycleaning bag in front of him for crissakes, and not to me. Talk about a total setup to get the Fuckwit/perp closer to my pack than me. Anyhow, I get out of there, and lo, if the MIW (Man In White) hasn't re-crossed the street and is now 10' in front of me in his disgusting stupid white uniform, with crimped long reddish hair (4x Unfavored). Then he continues to cross the street in front of me, effectively in lead-ahead gangstalking mode, so I decline to follow him and make an extra loop to avoid this dumbshit act. The perps have been laying on extra white pant wearing male gangstalkers of late, but this total MIW act was absurd.

A trip to LD this evening to get gift wrap and a birthday card for my duaghter's 21st next week. Another skunk, as in finding nothing suitable. Then to get more shaving cream, and none of it was there, even if one of Gillette's big selling lines. Then a third skunk on not finding spray-on bandage, the second time there for that, so it wasn't wholly expected. And as befits a post-nut shave day, the gangstalking inanity was out in force, starting with my regular apartment gangstalker in lead-ahead mode, preceding me out the door and to the street corner. Then the silliness began, with a police volunteer vehicle blowing a red light to make a right turn at speed, some 12' in front of me and not a personal danger.

Then it was the crotch grasping male stalker, outside at first, then a stare-at-me-for-no-reason fuck in the store and then again at the checkout. Then to the chocolate section where they allowed me to purchase Milka bars two days ago, and another gangstalking parade there, with one mother daughter team doing a dance routine to no music in the aisle nearby. I looked at them like they were screaming bonkers, but they must of known this and were both looking down as I passed by these Fuckwits. Another two were nearby when I grabbed a stack of 8 Milka bars, and then immediately following another two arrived to slow down egress out of the aisle. Then to the checkouts where they were backed up with one cashier open. Then to the movies section like last time to kill some time to see if they were going to open a till, but no. I go to customer service which acts as a checkout, and lo, if it wasn't my backwards ballcapped long haired semi-vagrant male dude who was gangstalking me earlier, holding up the cashier with an extended inquiry about the flyer, and waving some brown 100's in his hand at length. The mother of the above mentioned aisle dance act also arrived for a reprise stalking, making out she needed some information. A skeezy dude in a fedora was looking at his cell phone some 10' away, pretending to be cool. It seems the perps get no end of mileage from proximate Fuckwits on their cell-phone LCD or netbook wherever I go. Apparently he was waiting for a staff member, also bearing some paper, and the word "transaction" was allowed to be overheard. Finally I get some service, just 8 Milka bars, and this time he didn't ask if I was looking for something that I didn't find like they always do. A lead-ahead black and white dressed woman gangstalker was in front of me, holding me up from walking faster until I could see around the corners. And when out on the street, why, a Milka lavender coated woman holding hands with a man in a black and white outfit. Then when arriving at the apartment lobby, the door was propped open by one of those infernal motorized wheelchairs with the woman occupant standing in the doorway, finally making some room for me, all to have the associated Asian dude blocking one third of the doorway, and he didn't find the politeness to move out of the way. And so ends a brief chapter that lasted all of 15 minutes to get one item as it turned out.

Anyhow, enough activity for one day, and onto putzing in the evening, and hoping the upgrade to Firefox 4 wasn't a jerkaround like upgrades usually are. It seemed real important to the perps that I do this before heading to the LD store for whatever reason.

More screwing around with Paypal tonight, after last night's obstruction of updating my existing account. A new email address was started, and I really didn't want another one. It seems the perps like me to flip between two emails now, just to add to the whole scene.

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