Monday, August 15, 2011

Week; Aug. 09 - 15, 2011

Farm work; weeding all day; some 40+ on bus (reverse commute) on way back at 1800h, and enough piss-offs (parking in front of me, and having hands that clutched the rail near me for no seeming reason) that I walked partway back. There was also another all time first of public stupidity on the city bus. The dude who stood in front of me while seated then went to a seat on the raised deck where I was sitting and then stood immediately in front of an empty seat for at least 8 minutes until I got off. Like WTF; he wanted a seat enough that he moved to a vacant seat, and then stands in front of the seat with his head lowered to avoid the overhead grab bar. I have never seen anything so fucking perverse as this on the city bus, but as always, there will be something.

Tuesdays are my return to farm work after a day off, and the only other excitement I can think of for the perps might of been the fact that I change to a new razor blade to shave in the morning. This would be the face and full frontal shave, separate from the leg shave that is now once per week with a different blade (3 blades instead of 2) and razor handle combination.

Another possibility for the perp's increased gangstalk intensity was that many of the street linee were repainted I noticed on the return trip (walking and city bus riding). Not only did they repaint white crosswalks in the Municipality of Sannich, but also in the City of Victoria. Effectively two separate cities somehow arranged to repaint the street lines on the same day on my route back into downtown. Simply amazing.

Farm work; picking raspberries and then was faked out by the sun coming out to take off my pants for my shorts. That lasted a whole 5 minutes, before the sun went away, and some 10 minutes later picking was called off and I put my pants on again as we were to be doing potato washing.

This odd dude with a ponytail was hanging around the warehouse for some strange reason, and lo, if he didn't "help" on the potato washing. I was on pre-wash debris removal, with two others beside me, and the ponytail act stands across from me, (normally no one stands there as they are in the path of the debris being flung from the conveyor), and participates in the potato washing line. Like WTF; I have never seen this guy before, and he doesn't know jack about what potato features are defects (he asks me), and here is is just arrived and in the middle of this job.

And I have mentioned the infernal hassles the perps like to arrange when working conveyor lines in the past, as this has occured when daffodil bulb sorting in each of the past three years. And lo, if this ponytailed dude didn't do the exact same thing; reach for objects that were under my fingers as I was attempting to grab them, contact my hands as I was reaching for things, and make a fuck up of it by hauling back items on the conveyor to then cascade over where I was looking/working.

Lunch was called afterward, and I sit at the picnic table outside the warehouse building. And lo, if this ponytailed dude didn't sit down across from me. The farmer's son's girlfriend (gorgeous looking babe) also "happens" to come by and I say my hellos and respond to her greetings. About 10 minutes later, the farmer's son comes out and introduces the ponytail act and tells me that I will be working with him to set up the stage and the tent walls. (A 60'x90' vinyl covered fabric tent canopy was installed the week before). So... I get to help him set up the stage, and he was a decent enough person that I struck up a conversation with him over the afternoon. There were some mentally retarded group at a nearby picnic table under the tent awning for a while, and another woman was doing the walk-pasts in baggy shorts, an apparent future clown performer evaluating the stage size. The ponytail guy was decent enough to give me a ride downtown to where I live. Somehow we got onto the topic of negroes, and he said one told him about negroes that were so black that they looked bluish. I said I hadn't seen any like that, not mentioning the negro gangstalking. And so when we pull into the street where I live, why, a negro is backing his vehicle out of a driveway to a below ground parkade, seeming in mid-street turnaround mode. Another negro was holding court in the lobby of the apartment building, propped up on the couch there.

Farmwork; weeding, picking raspberries until 1730h.

When I get back I return a call from a local recruiter about a database design project, and it is in Nigeria no less, and includes an ample provision for danger pay as it is in an armoured compound. A two weeks on, one week off arrangement, though I wonder how one could really have a week off for all the travelling needed. I send him resumes and references, and along the way I touch upon my nine year absence from the IT world, last year's Oracle DBMS training I took, and he is going to look into it.

So on the face of it, this kind of money they would be offering is very generous, at least three to four times the going rate. And so would the perps be sending me off to Nigeria for six months (for negro exposure swamping?) at that pay level when they have been keeping me at about $1,000/month for the last nine years? In all likelihood no. And would an IT outfit send me, nine years out of the business, to a remote project? In all likelihood no. And so, what is really about? Very likely this is about putting the notion of Africa, Nigeria, negroes in mind for a week, all part of the gratuitous name dropping that seems to be an important element in this abuse and harassment derangement. Seeing that they wouldn't let me go and work on a region Gulf Island (Gulf of Geogia) vineyard some two months back, I don't expect to be going to a foreign continent anytime soon. We shall see.

Farm work; weeding strawberries, then picking raspberries, then weeding carrots to finish off the day.

It is my last day of farm work I learn at day's end; I had been expecting this for the past week as raspberry picking was slowing down, which was the same timing when I got terminated last year. When one is relagated to the class of "berry pickers", separate from the Mexicans and the "regulars", one can be sure that as soon as the berry picking ends so does the employment. Not to fret, as I could do with some summer time off, and have yet to get this Nigerian job prospect thought through. And too, at least one Mexican was getting on my nerves by hanging around me, crossing in front or behind me, and otherwise putting on the same gangstalking moves I get on the street. Plus, the supervisor prevarications were becoming more frequent, so I could do with some relief from this insane imposition.

A Sunday night stayover at the First Feral Family house, getting my weekly dose of TV, aka, bathing in the magnetic field of the CRT TV.

This morning, I was slinging more compost at the FFF house, sieving it with the usual progression of neighborhood noise; chain saws, lawnmowers, hotrod muffler noise from adjacent streets, overhead aircraft, (even two at once at differing altitudes), not to mention the STRATCOM B-52's noise overhead, at least two in the morning.

And while putting this blog together, a sudden full screen Fuckover in the browser session. It was eventually resolved by having to launch IE from its directory as it was somehow purged from my programs list. And then killing the Mozilla Firefox session by way of Task Manager. And it is the F11 key for toggling full screen off and on, and my fingers were nowhere near it when it accidentally "happened". As it is a Monday, this is a day of increased harassment, noise, duress and plain abuse.

Time to post this and call it done. A week off as I see it, and the weather/perp machinations is cooperating to supply sunny weather, which might be enticing enough to go to the beach this week for a full-on skyclad sun tan outside. All part of the perp's games related to skin color, vitamin D and downstream effects and whatever else they are busily researching in this realm.

Today's doctor appointment was more about the weirds in the waiting room, and even one who started ahead of me outside, the Green Geriatric. He was sitting on the outside bench when I drove past to find a parking spot. Then when walking in he arranged himself to be 40' ahead, and in the waiting room when I got there. He was in a light green shirt, dark green pants, a green wide brimmed mesh hat and had a large dark green glossy paper shopping bag. And so he putz's around at the seats opposite, taking off his sweater (oddly, as it was warmer outside than inside), andwith the tissue paper in the shopping bag. This sucker is at least 6'3" and over sixty, and eventually sits down some 7' away, facing me. Meanwhile, the freakshow parade starts up, and that included the Fat Dark Woman who is the regular receptionist (blonde girl on instead), as well as the asshole case counsellor on her cell phone who screwed me out of a $7 grant in 2009. After some five minutes the Green Geriatric gets called off and within a minute, a same green color shirted younger dude in tan brown pants cruises through, gets called by a seeming case counsellor in a dark brown outfit, and then he sits down in the same seat as the Green Geriatric. Anyhow, other fat folks and weirds patrol or seat themselves, and some ten minutes after my appointment start time, the doctor calls me in. (Interestingly, no one else was during the 15 min. of wait time). The appointment was another "who cares" one, with me doing the talking and him saying squat, and I was out of there in less than 15 minutes.

I took the bus back to downtown, and had another wacko gangstalker, this time a younger woman, a major Fat Girl with breasts like suspended cantelopes  in this outfit that was straight out of some Spanish dance troupe, this at 1430h. A black front laced tight top with plenty of cleavage visible between the horizontal laces, and this frilly dress with red under-skirt projecting outward (like at tutu) that didn't quite reach her knees. On her feet she had these tall black glossy leather boots that went to just below her knees, buckles all the way up. She ended up seated nearly opposite me in the lower deck portion, in the transverse seats. Quite the sight to say the least, but worse yet, was that she had 2" high calligraphic tattoos across her chest, just over the edge of her costume. It wasn't in English even, perhaps Spanish, and truly a bizarre touch to a most extraordinary outfit. It was like she was on her way to a dance practice or something. It wasn't quite Goth, thankfully, as I have plenty of those in the long past, but none recently.

It was interesting that this particular Fat Girl had her costume laces across her ample cleavage, and was placed for me to see it when seated on the bus. This horizontal banding, or striated light patterns (or objects) is a familiar theme in the perp's lighting and staging games. Last nigh on the the TV they had striated boxes as part of the lead-in to the highlights repeat of the Will and Kate royal wedding on CBC news channel. I suppose it is a way for the perps to break down the visual scene into smaller chunks, and analyse how I interpret the whole, and whatever chunks contain the more interesting content, i.e. cleavage.

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