All Carrots Day

10-03-2011
A Monday, returning from The First Feral Family house to start work and my overnight bag with its used face cloth in it was at the farm the whole day that I bagged, and participated in the carrot unloading from the hopper truck and the conveyor line work. One can say I am sick of the sight of carrots, though in perp-land that counts for nothing, as they are on a major push to find out why I don't like the color orange. Don't ask me, as my recall was deleted almost entirely from 1956 to 1959, and the subconscious traumatization associations remain. Same for red, yellow, brown. Not my problem, so why in the fuck am I set up for over nine years with all these dumbshit arranged games over colors, not to mention gangstalking and being kept in a rage-ified state due to constant torment?

Amanda Knox walks free after four years in jail, and her statement was wanting her life back. Try nine years of this fucking abuse, being the mind-fuck victim that gets circulated to all manner of stunts, and gets rammed into doing farm work, just so loud noises can be arranged to erupt each time I touch a carrot, pick a squash or anything associated with plant harvesting, pruning, root digging and the rest of it. More bizarre than Amanda herself, but it is ongoing and relentless.

10-04-2011
More bagging carrots, then conveyor line work on unloading carrots, then raspberry picking (with a fake-out for strawberry picking at first, which meant that I had my knee pads on, not really needed for raspberry picking). After lunch, the reverse; readied for raspberry picking I get diverted to strawberry picking, this time the reverse, getting caught out strawberry picking without my kneepads on. The carrot washing again, then carrot bagging.

And these are plastic bags we a putting the carrots in, and have I said how absolutely beserk the perps are when I handle, touch or even look at objects of plastic? Maybe hundreds of times, but it continues; I get to open the brown cardboard box of 500 plastic bags, and then get to pass a half inch thick of them to one carrot bagger who then hands them onto the carrot bagger who made the request. (Naturally, the 5" deep box of plastic bags is kept near me on the carrot bagging line). And too, there are bale bags, larger plastic bags to hold 50lb of 5lb bags, and lo, if the E. Indian handling the bale bags isn't flicking them to get them open when all he has to do is to peel them apart as they have ventilation holes cut in them. (Also good for scads of chads to flutter and fall about).

I stopped work at 1700h, got the 1730h #6 bus, and up to 12 other passengers on it all the way into town. Yet, when I take buses at 1800h to 1930h, I get at least twice that many, save the odd time. It just doesn't add up, save the gangstalking and freakshow imperative.

10-05-2011
Another email hack at my Yahoo account. A recent plundering though, as they accessed my contacts list which hasn't been up for more than six months. They got an email from me promoting Viagra, and then had a link to an attack web site that would clobber your computer if it wasn't protected.

A half day of work at the farm today, the morning spent with the employment counsellor who had some kind of special dispensation to go beyond the usual hour time frame. The perps like to set up expectations and then manipulate the events to have them dashed or unexpectedly altered. In this case, I have met the person some 10x, and the deal is that the appointment is an hour. But today, while not able to look at my watch to keep up the eye contact and not appear rude, I had this sense the meeting should of been over, but it was continuing, him doing all the talking. Finally, I got a sneak look at my watch at 1108h, and then I knew the fix was on.

Anyhow, I got the "red men" gangstalking before and after, these loitering louts with some article of red clothing, often including red shoelaces for crissakes. This one dude was sucking on weed (smoking a cigarette) outside the building entrance to the employment offices, and wearing a red jacket. I get into the elevator and lo, just before the door closes, this sucker comes in, timing his arrival and that of his smoke filled lungs perfectly to catch the elevator before it departed. So... as it "happens" he is going to the second floor too, and he strangely motions me to get out the elevator ahead of him, and then he tails me out and lo, if he isn't going to the same office as me. Just fucking bizarre and very obvious.

l got to the farm at about 1230h, time to have lunch and then start into raspberry picking, and then strawberry picking. Once it was break time, why, I got detailed for helping raise panels as part of the haunted house exhibit. And around 1700h, when traversing through the haunted house maze with two batteries for the drill the carpenter was using, why, the perps forced a "wet fart", as in having me crap my pants. At first I wasn't sure, but it felt different after a few minutes and so it was time to do the honors of cleaning this mess up in the bathroom, and yet again, donate a pair of underwear for the Fuckover cause. After some anxious moments the toilet flushed without backing up, unlike the last time the perps pulled this same stunt at a different farm. So... here we go again, purging brown out of me and have me
 go the remainder of the day without underwear.  Just plain fucking hilarious, and the Fuckwit who pulled this stunt had better keep their helmet on all the time, lest an errant bat make contact with their head.

Which now changes the "underwear ecology", another perp infatuation of long standing. All the underwear that I own is black colored, which isn't enough. The two sets of one kind, one with a doubled fabric as the waistband/hem had been used almost alternately every day for the past 8 months or so. But now, with one pair gone, it is back to using the elastic waistbanded set, down to five pairs after another shit show at the other farm back in 03-2011. In other words, the elastic waistbanded set will get more use, as it seems the perp's underwear energetics research, or whatever they are studying, has now moved on and they are confident they can apply the determinations of one set to that of the second set. Naturally, the more confortable doubled fabric waistbanded pairs became unavailible when I wanted to get more, and I had to settle for more of the latter set. The underwear battles have been going on for years in many variations to have me purchase new pairs, e.g. waistband "failure", fabric pilling, seam pilling and hem parting and on and on. Not forgetting that one prior set of six, after being purchased, was taken to get altered and the waistbands lowered 2". In this case, the perps had a fabric sample from each pair, as the alterations person never gave me the spare fabric back.

10-07-2011
A farm work day; bagging carrots inside, then outside to help in the potato unloading/washing that got stalled out two days ago when there were no packing boxes for the finished product. And have I ever mentioned how the perps like to disrupt processes and have them re-start days or months later? Many hundreds of times I should think. That they were red potatoes in a green colored trailer, might of aided the perp's color games as well.

Retards on the bus in the morning; the regular 0715 #6 bus N. bound, and instead of the three negroes stunt of last week, why, it is the three retards/Downs or whatever it is. A perp favorite is to add halfwits into the gangstalking mix, but all the more curious they needed three at once.

Another Unfavored/freakshow populations is blind folk; two together on the bus in this evening. Again, it is most curious why they are doubling or tripling the number of Unfavoreds/freaks at the same time.

While at the picnic table at lunchtime at the farm, a woman in a silver grey sedan pulls up and gets out in white pants and a brown coat. She is looking for certain kinds of potatoes, and I get dispatched to help out, wandering all over the coolers with the farmer's son in his red hoodie, looking for specific potato types, though I have no idea where they keep them all. And lo, if this woman isn't hanging over where my pack is kept by the doorway, and blocking egress to it. Which is exactly what my farm co-workers do too at other times. Funny how that "happens", again and again, just with a change of players.

10-08-2011
A farm work day, though I am short on specifics, except to note that we had to re-process both carrots and potatoes this week. That is to say, they were in bins or were packed in 50 lb boxes respectively, and were put through the washing and grading for the second time. The farmer's wife told me that they had 100 tons of boxed potatoes that they couldn't sell as the buyers are annoyed that there is so much rot in the potatoes. Some of it is detectable to us graders on the conveyor line, but she also made it plain that her husband is in too much of a hurry to push the product through and not concerning himself enough with quality. More dysfunction on the farm, and I didn't dig any deeper on that one.

And lo, if the packed potatoes aren't being stored in the massive coolers at the other farm I worked at, 2008 to 03-2011, this year. Kind of interesting, these potatoes making the reverse circuit between the two farms I have worked at. And have I mentioned how the perps seem to be so interested in the provenance of food, and that they like to vary my food sources from time to time, making certain ones are unavailible? Many times.
10-09-2011
2100h
A wrap to gto this blog posted, because if I don't, it will slide another week while keeping the day job as farmworker, or at least, to the end of October is what I am told.

I am staying at the First Feral Family house as my perp abetting mother has left for two weeks in the UK, my out of town brother unexpectedly accompanying her once they meet up in Vancouver, BC. And, almost needless to day, this house is the nexus of perp research and abuse, as whatever they discover here in the way of remotely assayed brain, psychic energies, EMF or whatever the fuck else they are studying me for (food intake, clothing fabrics and colors, associated noises with thoughts or actions etc.), is attempted to be applied elsewhere. Like earlier today, an accompaniment of red colored gangstalking vehicles with silver grey and mid-grey tones while driving my mother to the Victoria airport, then afterward, driving downtown to my place to drop off a new web-ordered coat that was at the FFF house, and pick up some of my regular food that was in my fridge and then drive back to the FFF where I am now typing this up. So what it seems is that they want me to have my usual and same (mostly) cuisine at the FFF house, and on the crockery that is here, some kind of Dutch pattern, bluish tinted with dark blue borders and a blue floral pattern in the center of plates, bowls etc. The perps go to no end of efforts to energetically quantify my interactions with food and beverages and what the colors convey to the food, then inside me, and wherever else it goes. So eating my usual cuisine in the FFF house is a HUGE advance for the perp's research, taking place to 9.5 years since they went beserk/overt on me in 04-2002. No doubt my farmworker colleagues will be all over me tomorrow, as in gangstalking at work, which is getting more ridiculous and blatant, like having the Asian male wander up to me, stand 2' away, go behind me a little more, dither about for another 10 seconds, and then wander off. It usued to be they would pretend to look for something or even make conversation to inject some relevance and a cover story as to what they were doing in my proximity on my lunch break, but no more. Blatant gangstalking and even looking foolish while doing it are part of the scene now.

What is also interesting is that they allowed me to eat basil for the first time this year, as it has always been a fond herbal staple for the aroma alone. And for "some reason" these quesadillas seem to rip open when handling them to reveal the basil. But for "some reason", (read, unabashed mind control) they didn't want me to have any basil until October this year, almost too late in the season to expect any. Some of it was put in the regular dish I eat for lunch and dinner, quesadillas with sprouted grain tortillas.

I stopped at the two grocery stores and Home Depot on the way back, and sure enough, the red dressed gangstalkers and staff were all about me, especially when at the checkout and making a financial transaction, a moment the perps dearly love to harass me over. Naturally, they were ready, with the prior customer purchasing mounds of ground beef, and other meats, (think red colors here), and some other red colored foods. And too, the red fleece vested gangstalker was there in the next checkout, getting the red out, as I term it. Fleece is now the prefered fabric for the gangstalkers, and even the MIB's are decked out in black fleece with soft black fabric arm and shoulder patches, save once, when an 1950's style MIB was on the bus with the black wide brimmed hat and the shaved eyebrows.

This is the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend, so it was a little quieter out at the airport, but in tems of vehicular gangstalking, the perps were full measure for putting on many high hundreds, or even low thousands of gangstalking vehicles, injecting the red colors among silver-grey colored vehicles, though backing off on white colors. Instead, more mid-greys and black colored vehicles, and they were even "daring" enough to have a string of four vehicles, one lead red, a black, a mid-grey and a tailing red to ride beside me for much of the S. bound Hwy 17 into downtown (20 min.). They stuck on me like glue and made sure both lanes were plugged to stop me from getting ahead. And lo, if the perps didn't add an orange vehicle to accompany me for the last 10 minutes, in keeping with their big focus on carrot colors. Also, heavy on the motorcycles today too, the weather cooperating (ahem).

Time to get this posted and done for the week.