Monday, August 01, 2011

Week: July 26 Aug 01

Picking raspberries until 1330h, then weeding the strawberries in the next field. I used my Felco #8 pruners, and lo, if the perps didn't fuck them by popping the spring off in tall grass never to be found again. Yet another sabotage event to recover from, finding the time to get these small parts from specialty retailers. All to play the perp's fucking games of changing up the energetic signature of the near-new tool that I now carry in my backpack each day.

A wacko inbound bus ride after work; all the freaks were there. A 350lb Fat Boy, a carmine colored turban, three negroes, bus aisle blocker who blocked me from getting a seat for some strange reason (so she could park her exposed and unadorned (thankfully, no tattoos) back to me it would seem). It was standing room only, and that means over 35 passengers, which is absurd at 1730h going into downtown on a Tuesday evening.

The apartment manager was hanging around my front door in the hallway when I was returning with clean damp laundry in hand to hang dry. He said hello, and I returned the greeting as I wasn't sure who he was at first. Then two hours later I see that someone signed for my UPS delivery, and not knowing if it was the apartment manager or not, I phone him to ask and he says he has it in the office. Like WTF; why didn't he say anything earlier when loitering in the hallway and showing off his tattoos in the dim light? So it would seem he was directed to "pre-stalk", that is, gangstalk a location he is going to return to in earnest for a legit mission, delivering the fucking parcel. Even at that, he could of said something then. Why are so many people I engage with so fucked in the head?

2115h Then the Fuckwit manager delays his delivery of my parcel past my 2100h bedtime. The insane and orchestrated hassle over pacel deliveries never ends.

More Fat Girls on the bus, two at the bus stop, and lo, I get exposed to cleavage again. Maybe it is just a summertime thing, but I definitely get more than my usual fill.

And what is it about motorcycles that the perps need to plant them for me to see or hear at 0630h when on the bus? And continued noise in the distance all day long, at least 1/ two minutes, sometimes one after the other for five minutes? And plenty of aircraft flyovers today. A Sea King came directly over after lunch, low and slow and some kind of black emanations coming from it.

Tuesday seems to be a big gangstalking day as I start a new razor insert in the morning, shaving face and front with it. Also, the bedsheets have been laundered the night before, and it is the first sleep on them. Also, one day after a sun tan salon appointment, which seems to cause to instigate greater gangstalker coverage, especially immediately following.

I picked raspberries until 1400h, then weeded until 1630h - similar as yesterday. and same freakshow on the bus, heavy on tattoos, though I got a seat to start with, unlike yesterday's charade.

The parcel delivery nonsense is finally over; I phoned the aparment manager at noon to give him permission to enter my apartment to leave the parcel there. The other parcel was in my mailbox to my surprise. So.... two parcels via different shippers arrive today, all from one order. Exciting games for the perps no doubt seeing how often they pull similar hassles over parcel deliveries.

I weeded pumpkins underthe powerline, until 0930h, then pick raspberries to 1330h, then back to weeding pumpkins. Wore shorts for the first no-cloud day, and got tanned. Combinations of shirts, footwear and work activity continue; in hiking boots all day today, even if in shorts. Other variations have been street shoes when picking raspberries which I had formerly studiously avoided, then wearing shorts under the black long pants as no sun came out despite early encouraging forecasts. Variations on the shirts have been the tan-through shirt, the SPF sun block shirt and blue and grey T-shirts.

The city bus freakshow continues; skinheads, tatoos. Ditto at the local supermarket; the female cashier was the worst one of all with tattoos on her arms and onto the back of her hands.

The morning-time city bus negro (the male, though a tail-me-off-the bus female gets on too at the same stop) is stepping up his seat swapping games again. That is, when I am waiting at the rear doors for my stop as the bus approaches it, he changes seats to sit in my seat, still warm. This the second time in a week this Fuckwit Negro has done this, and the third in the past month. He wasn't doing it last year for crissakes, no seat moving whatsoever.

Pounding bass music noise when I got back from work, and from the local supermarket visitation. The pounding also continued into the evening andhas been playing 80% of the time for the last hour.

Another male skinhead dude on bus, this time the Fuckwit sat next to me. It was so disgusting it was that I looked away the entire bus trip. Thankfully he got off one stop earlier. Then later in the evening at the LD store, an incomparable all-time fugly combination after my tanning session; a skinhead at the counter I needed to go to and tattoos over his head and down his neck. A fucking disgusting sight, and one that was used in the MKULTRA projects to reference head regions over multiple study/survey sessions.

No shorts wearing while doing farmwork today, as seeming "recovery day" for the perps, needing a day of no leg exposure to the sun after a tanning session the evening before. Endless games and combinations continue in the perp's vitamin D, skin exposure, skin color and other downstream physiological processes and effects, not the least of which is titanium dioxide nanoparticles in the sunblock.

Picking raspberries in shorts, and finally getting my legs tanned finally from the sun. A bit of an irony, as some 15 tanning session in the salon did not have me get my legs tanned. Though to be fair, it did prepare my skin for an even and painless full-sun tan, as otherwise my skin would of seriously burned as I somehow "forgot" to put sunblock on.

Picking raspberries and then weeding was suddenly announced when only five minutes into picking a new row. This is almost the rule now; afternoons are suddenly prempted to pick weeds after picking fruit, and timed to when I have just begun a new row, sometimes with the afternoon break timed immediately beforehand. This seat-of-the-pants task assignment isn't anything new to this farm, though it certainly aids the perp's games of having me start and stop activities.

I am still the social leper at lunchtime especially; Mr and Mrs Punjabi sit some 150' apart with me somewhere in the middle, a most curious arrangement and one they never did before. The eight Mexicans, who claimed they wanted to learn English from me, also sit apart, usually 40' or so. The only other local is a Caucasian girl with deep black hair, but she isn't too talkative and seems totally scared for no reason that I can discern. In fact, I thought she was fired last week for not picking well, but for some reason she came back and all was forgiven/forgotten. I thought the "firing" was bogus in the first place; I was told to re-pick her row and I picked 16 more pint boxes. I never heard the supervisor say anything to her, and she was on the other side of the row. More strange behaviors and events, nothing new in this constant stream of FUD.

And too, the coworkers "drift-away" games again; This stop-picking and start-weeding sequence was taken one further when everyone started to depart in ones and twos, apparently for carrot digging, and within 30 min. of the said-to-be work ending time of 1630h. I was the only one left weeding, and I went to 1700h, and lo, no one else had clocked out, presumably they were on carrot digging still. Like I mention, the work duration, work end time, work task/crop can change in an instant. But it was interesting that they all "filtered out", something my mother and in-town brother have been doing for the last two years, having arrangements to take them elsewhere while I am at their place usually doing garden maintenance work such as weeding, pruning, soil sifting and all those horticultural activities the perps so like me to do.

A statutory holiday called British Columbia Day, for a long weekend in the summer for the regular working folks. Being a sometime farm hand, it doesn't matter squat as the weeds and fruits are growing all the same and must be dealt with. But it is my regular Monday off, having stayed at the First Feral Family house last night. And I was duty bound to put up more steel mesh fencing to prevent the deer from invading the backyard, as they had done so yet again for the two prior days. This after two weeks of no deer invasions, and lo, if they don't strike when my perp-abetting mother somehow forgets to put the row cover over the crop plants (tomatoes, beans, peas) she was protecting each day.

And too, I got to act on a perp suggestion of boring the two fence post holes with a pressure washer, borrowed from the in-town perp abetting brother. And wonders never cease, it actually worked, as I ddin't need large  holes for the steel posts, some 2" wide at most, save the spade portion near the bottom. And lo, if one of the fence post holes, some 4" in diameter roughly, didn't encounter one of my father's "rock resevoirs", these pits he created when preparing the landscaping to bury the rocks he raked up. Or, at least in part, as I did much of the lawn raking back then, 1967-68.

More wacko tattoos on the bus again. A skateboard dude with tattoos down his leg that was exposed by his baggy shorts. The skateboard was held behind his leg as some kind of reference/energetic source (carborundum of the non-slip surface), and he often kicked his leg into the aisle to get more "activity" from his tattooed leg. And the baggy shorts epidemic continues in this dumbhit town, though it is summer. But it seems the perps need to show me lots of hairy male legs of late, as well as baggy shorts. And this is combined with the sudden "need" for me to shave my legs and in doing so, "new-found" admiration for them. And too, there are the odd female legs introduced into the city bus show for me to admire, gleaming and shaved of course.

Enough, it is past my bedtime of 2100h, and to get this posting published for another week.

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