Sunday, October 02, 2011

Washing Potatoes in the Rain

A Monday, always a big perp event, this one different as I did not go to the First Feral Family house for a Sunday night stayover [cue dude and chick chatting outside my door in the hallway as I am about to listen to Lola Beltran]. Another all-important perp event is when and what I shave; it was legs last night, ordinarily a Saturday event, so one can see they decided to send me to work directly from leg shaving the night before instead of a day's layover at the FFF house where they of course get absolute pre-scripted cooperation from my mother. Obviously they want to test something related to shaving; here and to work, versus a prior here, day at the FFF house, and then a work day. Exciting moments in perp-dom indeed.

And all day rain nearly, and some four loads of potatoes were put through the conveyor and washed, then the culls and dirt balls were sorted out by yours truly. What one does for $10/hour, to serve the insane assholes who brought this abusive depravity on me in 04-2002. The sorting that I do takes place outside before the potatoes go inside the building to be graded and boxed. This must also be a big perp deal, these biological entities going over a conveyor from outside to inside, in keeping with their abiding and insane interest everytime I pass in and out of buildings with my coterie of Fuckwits in attendance and delaying and dithering if they can.

Another "treat" is that I am getting green colored flashes on this white web page which "happen" to be the identical color of the green potatoes, the culls that I sort out. The white potatoes get accepted, and if they have green on them they are rejected. This is from the potato being too close to the surface, and getting light, and developing cholorophyll. So yes, about four tonnes of potatoes went through the conveyor line today, the biggest potato wash-grade day ever.

Only about 50+ screaming  rage-ifications this morning; fucking me when attempting to grasp, fucking my ability to open packages and every move fucked and fraught over the breakfast routine

Second Fugliest Negro yet, "happens" to get on the morning bus, placing himself three seats from me. From there, it was freak fill-in gangstalking; two fatgirls and the Fugliest Fat Man again with a different hat on, a morning time regular on the next bus but who "happened" to arrive on this earlier one.

On the farm labor front, a carrots day; first picking in the field, then by machine, and then bagging them, a trial in perp abuse with carrots that just won't go in the bag, defying normal gravity oftentimes, to open up the opportunity for the supervisor to get on my case.

Home bound on the bus; a former farmworker, a negro woman who I spoke with a few times back in 2008, was seated opposite and pretending not to notice me for the entire trip, she getting on shortly after I did. She pulled this same stunt about two years ago, "happening" to walk past the bus stop and pretending not to notice me. Then the threadbare pants wearing babes were filled in around me, showing off their leg tans through their holed deans. I get it; negro with Caucasian babes with tans showing through the  holes in the front of their pants for more brown skin comparisons. We have only done 9.5 years of this insane bullshit.

A carrot day today, bagging them into 5lb bags after sorting through them for the better quality ones. Then out in the field for bunching them there, picking, bunching and hosing with water.

Carrot bagging tedium again; the freaking carrots will hang up in the bag when transferred from scale to bag with a tipping balance dish. And of course, we must keep them straight when in the bag, so this entails squeezing from each end while rolling the bag and gently dropping it some 4" onto the table. As orange is an Unfavored color, no end of effort is devoted to showing me this color, and that includes the pumpkins in bins 50' away, and outside. And of course I picked a lot of them too. The perps also get excited about the fact that I cut the stems using my Felco #7 secateurs versus the Mexican laborers just snapping them.

Other farm Fuckover activity was shiftless Fuckwit males hanging around the warehouse today, including one Fuckwit who arrived for my break and decided he needed to learn about the edibility of pumpkins. And lo, if he didn't answer his own question in this loopy conversation as I was seated near the pumpkins to be out in the warm sun. Just when I thought the Fuckwit was long gone, he comes back at me with a new question as I am in the doorway of warehouse. And have I not mentioned the perps are totally beserk when I pass through doorways into or out of buildings? And this Fuckwit pulls another one just so he makes sure I know this is a perp move. And why do these freaks seem to find me at the most inconvenient time?

A dapper negro woman on the bus this morning, and in her town coat and this funny toque-with-peak. she looked like the last person to be on the bus and made it plain by sitting side-saddle in the transverse seats, twisted to view the front of the bus with the seat facing the sidewalk. Within two stops another negro woman arrives and sits nearby, and then the dapper negro got off at the next stop. We are talking negro tag-team almost, though no seat-for-seat replacement like in times past.

09-30-2011 (Friday)
Appointment that counsellor couldn't make due to illness, so an extra hour to my credit, but of course the gangstalking freakshow was all over me as I exited the building. I took the bus to the First Feral Family house, and borrowed the vehicle to get my parcel from the UPS depot, the third such in a month. Yes, there are killer savings to be had at Sierra Trading Post, but some items in the first two parcels were decidedly perp planted notions, as I did not need them.

Then I helped my perp-abetting mother out taking a birthday cake to father in the care home, and he didn't know who I was, though I hadn't been there in months to see him, owing to work schedule changes.
Then to work with the supervisor climbing the wall of worry over not enough work etc. she did this the last time before I was laid off, so I can expect the same again in short order, even if they told me in early Sept. it was to the end of October.

My supposed co-workers were all over me, crossing where I stood, and in place before and after, and one in particular on the carrot bagging line was making sure I saw his back from 6" away. more of this extra tight choreography all day as it "happened".
A beserk load of gangstlaker in the bus, some 35+ headed in downtown on a Friday night at 1830h, ridiculous. And of course the freaks, beards, space-outs, curly haired and my next seat neighbor, by herself at the bus stop, and lo, if she doesn't meet up with her skinhead "partner" discussing couple things as to a new vehicle and other household items. I never had a couple meet on the bus before, but only "happenchancers", the Cheersing setups. And what a compaining B she was too.

A Saturday, and armed with my new monthly bus pass, something the perps screwed me on once, but not since, maybe 20 monthly passes in the past three years. But it is a big deal, this magnetic stripped object, and that it is also made of thin plastic, always an attraction to the perp wallet contents fucking games that have gone on in full measure since the Day of Infamy, 04-15-2002, when then made my life fucking hell by starting with a big blow-out faux police raid on my apartment.

And a sad day, the drop-dead gorgeous live-in girlfriend of the farmer's son is moving out on him, and I helped in the moving, organizing and placing her objects in the truck. Plus, I corralled the two Mexicans and the one Chinese helper, attempting to get English through to them with varying degrees of success. Frustrating at times, but not as bad as 40 min. into packing when the farmer's son informs me that this is to be a one truck trip, when it was three trips earlier this year. So... we had to haul out half of the stuff and repack the 5 tonne truck. The perps just love these re-work stunts, and I suppose this was pretty minor compared to how they might fuck a large construction project.

The couple lasted 5 months together and were still bickering as we moved her belongings. I learned from the drop dead gorgeous babe that this fighting had started since they moved in together. I had no idea, but as the farmer's son is not inclined to share much with anyone, no one knew until recent weeks. The farmer said that she was too much a Barbie Doll girl and wasn't the right kind of material for his son. Alas, as I came to learn afterward from someone else, the son's woes are consuming him, and I don't think any wife or near-wife is going to be able to help him. Said son is also disaffected with his family and in working on the farm, so I just don't know where this one is going. I am contained in a box all the time, but he has woes that the perps might be exploiting to make things much the same for him. Anyone know of a help line to call if you think someone is in danger of going postal?

I hoping to get laid off in the next week or two and not have to deal with these family feuds and the other prevaricational fuckery that my supervisor pulls off, that is also getting stranger than I am willing to live with for long. Only the big tab that I was forced to run up by the perps at Sierra Trading Post as I re-garment myself from all the sabotage and inadequate clothes of the past they had me wear. (Or else exploited the garment's design faults to then make it problematic). All part of the endless perp dicking around with what I wear, its color and the rest of it. Even new rain pants "failed" and the assholes stole the reciept off my desk to block me from taking them back last Febuary. So... new industrial strength foul weather rain pants are on order, the fourth order in the last six weeks when I desperately wanted to stop at two. When I read of the tales of confessed shopaholics I begin to understand that it might not all be self-generated/at fault. The perps like to grind their victims down various themes, and I suppose they are having me sample some of them, this being poorly supervised shopping, even if I get killer deals of over 50% off.

And the parcel delivery thing seems to be a big deal; one variant is to have me pick it up at UPS and bring it to my perp abetting mother's place, the First Feral Family house, and open it there. Two of the three parcels to date have had this reciept and unpacking arrangement. And to note, the FFF house is the site of the most perp intense activity so they can then attempt to replicate their remote energy assay gleanings there in all other locations that I frequent.

And as it was a different day in terms of farmwork, i.e. moving house, per above, the perps also decided to screw me out of having a normal morning, and had me get up only 20 min. ahead of the bus departure time. So.. no breakfast, shower, shave, all major considerations the perps seem to be still dealing with in terms of how it changes my energy signature in their remote monitoring and assay games. Only time enough to change, get my lunch ready for the day, and get out the door. And lo, if the bus wasn't 15 min. late, and my regular Saturday gangstalker dude was in place, now being unfriendly again. Fucking weird. And last week, he placed himself some 60' away from the bus stop, and 30' back of the corner where the #6 bus turns, looking down Fort St. But his travel bag was at the corner, some 30' away, visible from the bus stop. Today, he tailed me onto the bus and to the rear elevated platform to the rear 6-wide seat, and then sits two seats away, violating the unwritten rule of sitting as far away from other passengers as possible. Said Fuckwit has tailed me on other routes as well.

What's with these driving dudes who pull a U turn, pull into a parking stall and then get out in order to tail me W. bound for 80' into the apartment lobby? An E. Indian to boot, at about 2000h, dark then, two days ago. Then yesterday, after getting off the bus, wallking S. bound, a dude exits from a parked car, to do lead-ahead gangstalking for 30' in dusk onset conditions. Then tonight when dark, a dude does a high speed mid-street reverse turn, pulling into the driveway 30' ahead of me, then backs out, and roars off to replicate in reverse the route he arrived by. Not your average befuddled tourist driving while putzing.

Another laundry fuckover; the 7th floor washing machine didn't go through the spin cycle so I got to humpf the sopping wet bedsheets and towels to the 6th floor washing machine and start all over again. All to have the drying delayed so it occurs when on my 1000h coffee date/public gangstalker setup. Then to humpf the laundry back to the 7th floor to the larger dryer to get it dried on one load. It used to be that doing my laundry on another floor was enough, but now they want to split the laundering activity over two floors. Fucking insane. Then the drying rack that has a cloth fabric mesh to support drying clothes erupted with mold on it fabric, so I took it off and put it into the laundry too, after some stain removing Shout was applied. And lo, if the rack won't go back together, one screw hole too big and the other too small. More sabotage, and one that is very inconvenient as I use the drying rack each day for farmwork clothes drying.

A morning coffee with the farmwork colleague now at horticulture school. The same laconic smirk as always, and the sudden scripted end to the conversation, just as well. A freakshow all around me in the coffee shop as well. Why do they put on so many chinless wackos as gangstalkers?


Anonymous said...

I think the cops doing the arrest simply wanted to to her. I have noted that one of the things gangstalking perps get off on is touching me. Usually it's nothing major. Just like like brushing up against me or making contact in some manner. Some times, they like to do a playful pat on the back or shoulder, as though they were my friend. But this could simply be part of the experimentation, in doing energy transfer from gangstalker to target.

AJH said...

Answer to: I think the cops doing...

Not sure what this pertains to, or what the cops were to be doing.

Yes, the perps do love to touch their TI victims, getting a TI-gangstalker energy reading directly. Assuming it isn't a spouse or significant other, these are near "pure" readings as there won't have been any other energy contamination from someone that was physically close to you for the prior night, or for longer. Hence, the perps' need to enforce social isolation and in my case, ensuring I got divorced at great cost to plunder my savings. Cashiers at checkouts are common locations/setups for touching one, usually in passing the reciept. Thanks for the comments.