Saturday, June 18, 2011

Putzing In Limbo

1750h, Saturday

The sirens have just started as I have begun this posting after the prior one had a sudden "problem" of the backspace and the Enter keys not working, rendering the edit function (blog writing) undoable. Funny how going to a new posting changed that.

And I was to hear yesterday about getting a vineyard job but that was for naught. As this was a five-candidates-at-once interview, I was able to evaluate the competion/potential co-workers, and suffice to say, I had plenty more experience in farm labor work. Obviously, it was all about making a day trip on the ferry to an island, visiting the vineyard and hanging with four other potential co-workers for the afternoon (all decent folk) until the ferry returned. I cannot concieve of any reason not to hire me (or any of the others), so all I can assume is that the junket was a total perp fix, and intended to be one day outing. All to come back to the daily grind of weeding with a hoe on the farm I currently work at. Vineyard work seemed a whole lot easier than fruit picking and hoe-ing, and yet I never got an offer. But as the last three years have been spent picking strawberries and raspberries (red fruit followed by red vehicular gangstalking on the way home each evening), then daffodil bulbs later in the summer, so why should I expect anything different? That was the outlook I had as to my work prospects when wanting to put the cachet of "vineyard worker" on my resume, but such is not allowed by the tormentors and abusers running my existence.

Sure, I had some things that I planned to get in advance of the job, and interestly, my daughter came over Friday night to evaluate her exchange options as to the gift I had given her two weeks earlier. And it seemed to be the biggest deal for the perps to have my daughter cruise with me through the outdoor store (after she made her selection), and past a couple of displays of items I intended to get in advance of the vineyard job. But as I hadn't heard anything, I didn't purchase anything related to getting the vineyard job. All the perps wanted me to do was to look at these items for real that I had previously scouted online at the same store. I am sure that was all what it was about.

And too, they put on an old-time IT nemesis gangstalker named JE for now, retired. He was an IBM main-frame type, and actively sabotaged every effort to get workstations and capable software unless they were the pathetic PC's of the day, and also aligning himself with Microsoft and Windows back to 1990. Here was the guy who singlehandedly stymied GIS in the Ministry of Natural Resources for over 10 years and still managed to keep his job. Anyhow, he dogged me at least four times while I was in the store while I was with my daughter, and was acting like a crack addict, scooting around and obviously pretending to shop, looking at items for a second or two before leading ahead through the store. Interesting, if not amusing, to see such a formal, reserved and cautious person now behaving totally differently in a  semi-frantic search for nothing in particular. And of related interest, we were in the same building that housed part of his IT organization in the day (for 9 years when I was there), now converted to a retail outdoor store/co-op. His office was in an adjacent building that was newer, but the two were connected by an enclosed skywalk then. I encountered JE in the work world as part of databse development commitee I headed. And of course he didn't deign to say hello or anything like that. Nossir, don't talk to the victim, just carry on acting like a fucking idiot.

When my daughter and I went to the cashier to exchange the GPS watches, it was a blazing redheaded dude who was on as cashier. As I don't care for redheads, and get frequently gangstalked with them with a prior build-up of similar hair colors, it was not too much of a surprise to have this "test case" redhead in front of us both. Ditto when with my mother, they will put on the fugliest Unfavored Fuckwits doing the most bizarre things, all for comparative purposes. If I cannot stand the sight of redheads, I don't see why this is an international Fuckover life-trashing event that should be going on for nine years and still continuting. Not my problem so why am being hounded by all these fucking freaks?

A rain-out day as far a farm work goes; I got up at 0530h and called the farmer at 0700h and he said to cancel work today. I was online at 1000h or so when the sleepies struck (perp applied), and went down for a nap at that time, absurd as it was in normal habit. They had me sleep for three hours for crissakes, a whacking mid-day sleep when I had no reason or sleep deficit to make up.

And three days in succession of sunny weather ended overnight, so I can assume that this was important to the perps for whatever reason as the asshole do love to fuck with sunlight exposure, and this year they seem to want me to get tanned in discrete quantities and bounded durations. Hence the leg shaving they now put me through each evening; I suddenly get restless about 2100h in the evening, log off, and might read a book for 10 minutes when I suddenly get restless again. Then I put a few things away, and the need to run a bath come on, and so the leg shaving follows. Most strange behavour and not of my making.

Back in the pre-overt/beserk days of 2000 to 2001 they had me visiting tanning booths for short durations and then life circumstances would have me stop for a while, to restart some months later. They were still after me in 2003 and 2004 at the naturist beach, having a new lack of inhibitions as I never did this before. Then all that stopped after that, and while I got some sun in the prior three years of farm work, this is the year they seem to want me to get much more, including my legs. And too, the "need" to visit a tanning salon to get a base tan on my very white shaved legs has started up in the last week, so no doubt that will be "happening" in the next while. All part of the browning around games it would seem. I get many more brown dressed gangstalkers now, especially among the males who are even going two-tone brown; e.g. a chocolate brown hoodie with peanut butter brown pants for crissakes, just to look totally stupid if nothing else.

Another big perp moment this afternoon was to have me vistit the alterations tailor, she of Russian origin as I came to know. I got screwed when she changed her opening hours unannounced, visiting there on my Monday day off and finding her shop closed, though now open on Saturdays when she wasn't before. Funny, I had asked about her shop hours some two months ago and she didn't say anything about changing her hours. My pants had been in her shop for new knee patches, and it "tuned out" to be the same shiney rip-stop material she used for my other pants to repair the seat that had mysteriously worn out. I suppose the perps want me to have this signature fabric on both pairs of my work pants, so this nonsense was inflicted upon me. And today, this pair was tight, owing to strange cut that had the ideal leg length, so I opted to have the waist expanded. She, in performance of her tailor duties got to tug at the pants when I had them on, as well as demonstrate with her fingers where the waist section was going to go and how long the insert will be. And also, the measuring tape around the waist to make sure the correct size was being attained. All these pokings and proddings by another person I don't really know is prime perp material, as they constantly try to get Fuckwits in my path and way too close, especially in the checkout lines.

On the way to the tailor's, I am standing at the corner waiting for the traffic control, and this woman comes along from my R. and plants herself 2' beside me when there was plenty of extra room. The instant I detect his personal space invasion a noise from the vehicular traffic sounds off. So it seems that the perps are still working on my personal space detection/violation boundaries, and I have recounted many past gangstalking stunts to do the same.

A run to the LD store to get Rx, and getting the extra stare from the plain Rx tech. I always had wondered why I get so many store staff plainly ignoring me in the long past, and was reminded of it tonight; it was orchestrated for more "dwell time:, a seeming vital ingredient to the perps' onging abuse/study campaign. Then three Fuckwits on me at the Milka chocolate section, two on sentry duty and one passing behind me at the aisle constriction just there. Two more were on my ass before I got out of the end of the aisle, one doing this bizarre routine. She stopped at the aisle end facing me 7' away, held her arm up with an item in hand, looked sideways for two seconds, pulled her arm down, and then proceeded to walk toward me. Utterly fucking bizarre, and totally consistent with past fuckery, though a first for the Heil Hitler salute with an item in hand.

And lo, if the Fuckwits ahead of me in the checkout didn't leave two bars of chocolate, different from the ones I was purchasing, on the checkout counter top and the cashier didn't remove them. Last time when purchasing lavender colored packaged Milka bars they had me with an item that had some lavender color on its packaging (toilet paper) and the person behind me had a similarly colored packaged item, though different product. And after purchasing Milka bars, I sometimes get lavender dressed Fuckwits on the street gangstalking me.

Amother vehicular run-down attempt when I was walking back, making the left hand turn and coming directly at me, and didn't stop when I became very agitated, looking at the asshole woman in this black monster truck. Obviously they were attempting to emulate something with the big truck. Having a blonde in this military style ballcap seems to be all the rage of late, she being the driver. Yesterday on the 0715h #6 bus they were building up the number of dudes around me and put a blonde woman with a military style ballcap immediately in front of me. She was there for five minutes to be later replaced by the Monster Dude, this disgusting 300lb Fuckwit that needs two seats, and is a gangstalk regular on the second to last bus stop before I get off. They had 8 dudes packed around me when I was fully gangstalked on the city bus, a new record for plain obvious "dude stalking". How so many dudes end up doing a reverse commute on the bus at that time is beyond me, and a steady increase as well. All those nut and leg shaves in the prior evening must be the big attraction. Who knew that nut shaving was a greater pathway to getting gangstalked by sick assholes too timorous to declare themselves and their covert agenda? And who have billions of dollars, limitless resources, and here they are still putzing away nine years later after outing themselves as an adversary every second of my existence.

And I see the Vancouver (not far from here) Stanley Cup riots were out of control, the police caught with their pants down and then get to stand around to watch vehicles burn up. Justl ike the Toronto riots of last year, and maybe straight out of the perp playbook, as they like a good fire, not to mention the unusual juxtapositions of persons on the street, especially having them run around or lying down kissing. Having the marathon pass through the city wasn't enough it seems.

Overhead stereo music pounding/pulsing is getting through my earmuffs as I write this. There have been at least five such like noise events today, this one coming on the heels of reading about Dr. Colin Ross' discoveries of who is connected to who in the mind control research world, that restarted with avengence after WWII. He claims there is no master plan of the excesses of the CIA, military authorities and even the JFK killers, though I would respectively disagree, being the brunt of much of their doings.

And they are even sending the tour buses around now, going by the noise from outside. Onto other evening events and seeing out my mysteriously scuffed eyeglasses.

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