Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Getting Oranged

We were putting two tons of carrots through the conveyor that feeds off the truck and then the boss interupted carrot washing to go pumpkin picking. What can I assume is "orange referencing"; having me see and handle two crops that have orange colored vegetable matter. Later in the day, I got to "experience" the carrots as dug up by the implement that the tractor tows with a conveyor to take the topped carrots to an accompanying 5 tonne truck. No riding the machine for me though, I was the one walking behind the carrot digging machine to pick up the ones it missed.

And carrot bagging (packaging) is a big job this month, not having worked this farm in October. It takes place in the unheated warehouse and there is a 12' conveyor that runs on demand and intermittently, with the carrots loaded from a bin that is set on the hydraulic tipper by a forklift. Typically, a large flood of carrots is dropped onto the conveyor from the bin, the conveyor is run to distribute the carrots full conveyor length, and then stopped. Then personnel on one side feed the four scales with selected carrots, loading a tipping scale tray that can take up to 5lb of carrots. Another person is placed oppositely and next to the scale and when the scale needle reaches center, he tips the scale tray contents into a plastic packaging bag. There is an art to it so carrots don't fly off the tray if it is tipped too fast, and also, if too slow, then the carrots will more likely criss-cross in the bag. And too, the carrots are straightened out by rolling the bag on an adjacent table surface. In other words, lots of poly plastic bag handling, as they come from the packaging suppliers in boxes of 1,000. And yes, I get more co-workers getting close to me or making more noise or talking more whenever I am recharging the plastic bags as I extract them from the box.

Then outside later to do a re-wash of packaged potatoes, returned from customers apparently. But as the perps are totally beserk over anything that comes from a brown cardboard box, this is primetime for "browning around" as I call their insane obsession over this color. So, in other words, they get to study the potatoes going through the conveyor and washing for a second time, and then get re-packaged into the re-used cardboard boxes. Some runs are very rot prone, and some aren't. In the former case they have me extracting the rotten ones from the conveyor which are then tossed into an adjacent bin. When there are few rotten potatoes, they have me ferry the emptied boxes from outside where the conveyor feed is, to inside where the final inspection, grading and boxing takes place. All that inside-outside brown box handling is just perp heaven for their insane fuckery games.

Carrot bagging most of the day, with a half hour outside session to grade potatoes being re-washed.
Then around 1630h, we go out to get 17 bins of pumpkins, many were rotten, and it does seem to be an (arranged) problem, as they didn't pick them soon enough and the stem rot got inside the pumpkin even though it looks OK. Same thing "happened" at another farm two years ago, a seeming purposeful too-late  pumpkin harvest, and we had to go back in the cooler and take out the rotten ones. But as the perps do love to arrange rotting fruit and vegetables, which is likely related to their insane interest over composting, now about to enter its fourth year of my direct involvement, starting with the raked-up leaves at the First Feral Family house. And I even get extra noisestalking while handling the rotten pumpkins, which suggests the entire process of decomposition of any live organic matter is of intense interest to them. And don't get me started as to what it might mean, as I am looking to my readership for some suggestions.

And what is it about mid-blue air compressors being arranged around me? The 5' long x 2' wide shop compressor was pulled outside of the workshop for a few days in the sunshine and arranged to be around me having lunch on a nearby pallet stack.

And what is it about the boss on the re-wash potato conveyor feed, who makes sure he is extra careless and waves the cardboard box that they were in, making an extra flourish to get the box closer to me on the opposite side of the conveyor? I took another cardboard box in the face the week before, the supervisor not looking at where she threw the just-assembled box, readied for a potato washing run.

And the props mechanic, had his 8 y,o, boy at work all day, and not only was the kid doing his gangstalking thing, but "found" this ridiculous tricycle that has been hanging around at the farm for some unknown reason for the past two weeks, and rode it around the warehouse for an hour or more. Not only is the forklift zinging around, but so are the motorized pallet jacks. Like WTF; why would a parent place their child in apparent unsupervised danger while also making the kid look like a total retard, as he was way too big for it. Like I contend, the whole scene is scripted, and there was no danger as it was choreographed to ensure he didn't get a fork from the forklift in the chops while loitering around on this absurd tricycle. This was the same kid that came to hang around me wearing an orange sports jersey the previous week for no reason whatsoever, looking like some vacant retard. When I saw the kid with his dad in the tractor some 20 min. later, no orange jersey on him.

A mid-day start after doing some phoning from home, researching the value of taking vineyard laborer training, my possible 2012 activity for three months. A 1300h start at the farm, first bagging carrots, then a sit-around as no one knew what to do. Then a short (less than 30 min.) re-wash one pallet of potatoes.

Then it was to be pumpkin washing, but no, it was pumpkin picking.

Then fence repair job, where every one seemed to know what the job was, and I tagged along as no one told me. (No such thing as crew briefing sessions at the farm, all hearsay like instruction). Pliers came from nowhere for everyone but me. A roll of fence wire had to be found, then cut in half down its length, and it was erected above the existing fence wire, as some members of the visiting public to the Halloween exibits decided to do a little vandalism on the side.

I was working with the Mexicans as dusk came on, and just as we finished, lo, if two vehicles with headlights on, didn't arrive, and of all persons, it was the E. Indian tractor driver from the other farm I worked at in the past four years "showed up" and said hello. I was fucked into being totally dumbfounded and only said "hello" in return. Like WTF; he has nothing to do with this farm, works at least five miles away, had nothing to do with me while I was there (except steal my raingear and wear it a few days later), and here he "happens" to arrive at this very obscure location just as I finish up on a job. And have I mentioned how crazed the perps are when I finish a task, putting on noises, and disrupting events, often forcing re-work as something was "forgotten" and the notion of completion was premature? Many tens of times.

There were also some E. Indian visitors earlier in the day, the supervisor's daughter and niece. So I suppose the perps were attempting to get some kind of E. Indian skin color referencing or something, and wanted a "victim tour" by another known E. Indian from another farm in dusk onset conditons. Very bizarre this person "showing up" at this time when he would of finished a day's work at the other farm. [Later, I asked the boss about this, and he didn't say why the other farm's tractor driver "happened" to arrive at his farm in an obscure non=public location].

10-22-2011, Saturday
Post Friday night farm visitations to the scary haunted house exhibit they have. First farm job was
garbage pickup in the rain, wearing my new breathable Bluestorm Latitude 38 rainpaints. I cannot say if the "breathable" part was working, as the perps wetted my chest anyways. The perps got me obsessed over the garbage, and picking up some very small pieces that I would of ordinarily left behind.

It was to be parking duty for the public events, but as the rain was off and on, there weren't many visitors. So.. back to carrot bagging, carrot washing (the load that sat on the truck for two days, in mid job), and then clean up.

Orange color games that were most noticable were the farmer's grandkids roaring around in an orange colored dune buggy, hanging around me for no reason, circling me, or doing 180 degree U turns in front of me. Earlier, they were also heavy on ambulatory gangstalking while I was picking up garbage, and seemed to have an unerring knack for "showing up" when I was walking between venues.

Another Orange Event was packing one corner of a 10'x10' orange colored square canopy
with three other males, two Mexicans and one Asian. It was packed some 500' or so to the orange pumpkin patch where there is a public pick.

10-23-2011, Sunday
The weekly leg shave last night, getting delayed until it was midnight; the possibility of a new PC case beckons, and that kept me busy online. Three things I want in a PC case; air filtration so no dust buildup on fans, quiet, and a handle on top as these things are heavy. The latter feature has never been on PC cases, save for one recent example, and will likely involve getting someone to modify the case. But as PC cases aren't cheap by the time I pay someone to re-build it and add in the 256Gb SSD I recently acquired, it just may not happen. Such are the machinations of my tormentors, building up a "need", sometimes for three or more years, and then poof, it cannot be done. And of course, the "need" will re-surface later, all to continue this litany of coveting they like to plant on me.

Other items can be purchased on a whim though, no research or coveting, and while not always true, can be useful items I use every day.

A busy day at the farm with over 3,500 visitors, and I was on parking duty, directing vehicles and sorting out vehicular cluster fucks as the tractor pulled wagons, aka hayrides" were also part of the event. And with my newly shaved legs (under my long pants) and all those steel vehicles passing me by at close quarters, it was likely a huge perp event. As were all the dudes wearing baggy shorts at this time of year, not to mention the litany of male Unfavoreds/freaks/gangstalker themes; the gut strut, the skinheads and the waddlers.

Other farm visitors to fit the Unfavored demographic profile were the negroes, a father screaming at his child, and the ridiculous wheelchair act. They drop off this person in a wheelchair some 500' from the main activities, at the pumpkin picking field. Then he wheels back to the way he came to the events tent for a few hours. Then he comes back, seeming by himself and parks himself and wheelchair in the path of the tractor pulling the hayride and I warn him. So then he moves to the other side of the road and nearly impedes an outgoing hayride, it passing by within one foot. And given the 15 min. of this loiter time, I reckon is was yet again, another perp prop/gangstalking theme of placing wheelchairs and their occupants around me. And have I not complained of excessive numbers of wheelchairs as part of the gangstalking for the last 9 years? Many times, and if I cannot stand the sight of wheelchairs, I don't see why it is anyone's business by my own. And why does this theme repeat, as one of many, as part of this  insane reign of abuse I am subjected to by this covert army of psychopathic assholes.

Before going to the farm, a former co-worker came by to have coffee out, so not only did I have extra brown liquid in me, but I also had an extra dark brown pastry. As always, in public locations, the swarm starts up and got to be near crush conditions at times, some of the gangstalkers wearing dark brown clothes. And lo, if they didn't put a fugly negro woman who was back and forthing from inside to outside and then intersperse her visage with some blonde babes. Always this game of putting on the babes (a Favored demographic group and unlikely to have subconscious traumatization associations for the three years they wiped my memory when aged 2 to 5) to mix with the Unfavoreds.

This former co-worker with whom I remain in contact, her contacting me more than the other way around, is the same one who was working at the farm last year, and then followed me to the second farm I worked. Now she is taking horticultural training. I sometimes wonder if she isn't a morphover of someone else I know who was rather large back in my Seattle days of 1999 to 2002. There is just too many oddities that fit the perp harassment themes; married now getting a divorce, no children, psoriasis skin condition for more skin tone variance, a fat girl, and being extra "friendly".

Later in the evening, I drove to the airport to pick up my mother who arrived back from the UK after two weeks there with my out-of-town brother. Just arrived flight passengers are a big gangstalking event, and of course the sickos were out in force, closing in on me while I waited in a public airport. The dude with his hand on his crotch opposite me in the seats was the most outrageous act. Second in terms of absurd was the Fat Family, at least four of them sitting in the seats with one of them, the orange T-shirted Fuckwit, doing regular patrols for me to admire his ample girth, his infernal brown colored short and flipflops, this being October 23 in the Pacific Northwest.

And is it strange that the dudes doing the gangstalking parade as waiting family for incoming flight to be standing at the luggage carousel all by themselves with no apparent family nearby? It seemed to be a big excuse to get the Fuckwits closer to me than I would ordinarily of allowed.

I made salsa from the green tomatoes my in-town brother left at the FFF, he scoffing all the red ones under the guise of "looking after" the place while our mother was in the UK. And as I worked through the insufferable blender follies of what part fits where, the next door pressure washing noise started up at the same moment as getting the blender to finally work.

I returned home via the city bus with salsa in my pack, in two vessels, one glass, one plastic. This seemed to bring on a big gangstalker crowd for a 1600h bus into downtown. I got the big girl gangstalker treatment. First a hefty girl next to me on the rear bench seat, and the very big young girl standing 2' away. The hefty one left after 5 min. and the very big one took the seat, sitting next to me, and nudging me all the more. I have never seen a young girl with a fat middle before, and no, it was not a pregnancy, and wonder if it wasn't a prothesis, as the perps have done this before.

I picked up yet another Sierra Trading Post parcel this morning, and it contained a mid-blue long sleeved shirt. And lo, if I wasn't blue tested with the same hue for the rest of the day; as gangstalker vehicle color, and on at least 15 gangstalker. Not that I was wearing this color blue today, it is just that I had received the garment today in a brown cardboard box.

Lightscribe is getting hacked tonight; cutting two DVD's of my mother's UK pics, and lo, if Lightscribe first didn't "fail", then the next try it spent 3 minutes of supposedly etching the text, and lo, nothing. Then next time it worked. One more disk to go, and twice it "failed" to etch the text and succeed the third time. This had always been working fine before, with no software or hardware changes and now it suddenly craps out. All in keeping with less pretense of a mistake, and now blatant obstructive incursions.

I am late getting this weekly blog out, and am busy with pondering my next PC case as well as the continuing farm work.

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