Monday, November 14, 2011

Post Chicken Run Tap Attack

A visit to the local supermarket to get hot cooked chicken, aka Chicken Run, and true to form, plenty of gangstalkers getting my way, artfully arriving ahead of me or from behind aisle ends. And once back, the overhead tapping noise has started up while I put the groceries away and started up online. I had been online before I set off and no tapping noise, and now it is nearly continuous. As before, these apartments are separated by 12" of floor-ceiling and each apartment is carpetes, so how is this happening? And too, the seeming new upstairs neighbors (unlikely though) are doing exactly what the last ones did with the same striking instrument and noise pattern.

It was a two stop outing, the first to the ATM to deposit my paycheck and get $40 out to pay my daughter for the Ikea things she picked up for me. A two transaction event, and big news for the perp assholes who relentlessly gangstalk and noisestalk me over every financial transaction I make, from coin slots, to mailed checks to cash and debit card.

And lo, if the rain didn't start when I exited the building, not apparent when I put on my jacket and hat. I cannot count the number of times rain starts up just as I exit buildings. Naturally, I was caught without an umbrella, but there were plenty of red ones on the street, so someone was ready for rain. And even perverse bullshit like having two children, one with a red umbrella and the other dressed in red on top of the gangstalking father's shoulders. Fucking absurd.

Then a profusion of dudes in shorts still out on the street, more ridiculous clothing for cold rainy days, but nothing new in this controlled town.

And what is it about the phone system; I find a message on my phone and yet I was here at the time the call was made? This being a Saturday should mean that the call volume (network load) is substantially less and yet I am getting my calls blocked.

The tapping from overhead continues on and off. This is the post lunch digestive period, so I suspect they will continue as they resumed immediately after lunch. And I suppose, they have given up any pretense that this is a tradesmen at work, given the reptition and general continuance.

And still the tapping is going on as I read another TI's blog. Funny how that happens.

Back from a rare late afternoon tanning session. No reservations on weekends for whatever reason, but no wait as it "happened". And for the second time out of two visits that were re-started llate last week, a Fuckwit arrives on my heels just after I pass through the door. There was no one around to get that close to me in the amount of time between when I last looked and when this dude in shorts arrived. It had been pissing rain all afternoon, curiously just having stopped before I set off, and here is this dude in freaking baggy shorts. Same drill as last time, the Fuckwit taking a tanning room as the same time as I am. Dudestalk it should be called.

The salon attendant was very dishy and made sure to be leaning over when I said goodbye, allowing a peek at her ample cleavage. Funny how the cleavage theme seems to be so important of late, and in a week or so it will be something else.

The rain having just stopped before I stepped out of the building, as it seemed to be raining before I departed so I took my umbrella. But there was no need for it, so I carried it there and back unfurled. I have no idea what the perps' interest is in umbrellas and overhead shelters, but they do form a signifcant part of the gangstalking scene, and usually screw me out of using my very special Blunt Umbrella that I got shipped up from New Zealand.

And lo, if the assholed didn't let me watch my first movie on my PC after two years of attempting to do so, and having Windows Media Center getting sabotaged and lost. Finally, I get to see Frida, a show that I liked at the cinema (twice in 2003), liked the soundtrack enough to purchase it, and bought the DVD two years ago. It sat for a year, then was partially played for a half hour before "need" for dinner came on, and was never touched again. A first for the perps, letting me view a movie on my PC. Such are the constrictions as to what I am allowed to do, see, say or think, or in anyway engage in.

A bout of indolence stopped this from getting posted when I had all kinds of time to do so yesterday.

Out and about with my perp abetting mother this morning;they had me frazzed while at Walmart and then again at a super-swarm at Fabricland, the third visitation in four months over these freaking pillows my mother wants to make. Finally, they were in, and I got to pack two of them around while my mother toted another one, and then she pissed around at the cutting tables and then a big checkout obstruction so they could put me between the redcoats while in line, and my mother finally paid (financial transaction) for them. The parking lot went from nearly empty when we arrived to nearly full when we exited, and it was a dedicated parking lot just for that store. Hopefully the pillow stuffing bullshit is over, though I am sure the plastic bag stalking isn't over yet.

And a red haired rude-dude in dressed in black at Walmart, doing the excuse-me-while-I-bump-into-you stunt, coming from behind. The fucking asshole knew there wasn't enough room to get by but just kept going, no eye contact of course. Why has this public rudeness suddenly erupted in this fucking town in 2002 when the harassment began?

And the public freakshow as well; fat girls/women are on a major gangstalking initiative of late, and today was no exception. The above Walmart and Fabricland gangstalking was at least 40% fat women, some dropping things to do their bend-overs in close proximity. The only woman worth looking at of the sixty or more at the latter store was a blonde woman with an infant strapped to her front, first doing a pose to the N. and then in partial aisle blocking mode at the exit to the W. Go figure.

A sudden "need" to take a piss came over me at the burger joint, just as I finished up on talking about sending my transcripts off to my mother. Not only do I get plenty of coverage of people in my way, or about to get in my way to cause me to stop and wait, but after the piss the same staff member dressed in black and white was loitering around as she had when I was on my way to the washroom. A fuck-all piss, that is, it was totally unneccessasry, and after the black-and-white staff stalk, why a huge fat blonde woman, at least 250 lb steps in my way, dithers around, and then leads-ahead of me to my seat. Just fucking absurd, as above; if I cannot stand the sight of fat people, large guts spilling out from males and the rest of the obeser parade, why is some insane agency hounding me for over 9.5 years over two countries and everywhere I go? Get the fuck out of my life, and tell me in person what your fucking abusive non-consensual human experimentation agenda is all about, then fill up my bank account bigtime.

Then at the mid-scale burger joint it was the due-with-ponytail on show in the next booth in my line of forward vision, interspersed with the waitress flitting back and forth with an identical ponytail. If I fucking loathe dudes in ponytails I don't see why my life has been torn to shreds in an international Fuckover Abuse Show that has now run over 9.5 years.

And I saw that the concrete and aggregate supply dudes were across the aisle at the burger joint. All in keeping with the redi-mix truck stalking I routinely get anytime when I am out. Next will come the shit services dudes I expect, as I get plenty of septic services/portable john service trucks and tankers around me for no seeming reason, save the perp's obsession over excrement color and the rest of their associations they seem to dwell upon and ensure that I get my fill of. And there is no reaso for septic service tankers to be downtown here where I live as it is on sewer, all of it, save the odd construction job with portable johns.

The the late model Jaguar sedan in silver-grey arrived across the street to be seen through the windows of the burger joint. Again, I don't know what their fascination over presenting Jaguars is, but it may have something to do with less plastic and manmade fabrics and construction, and with more leather and wood in the vehicle. Which also may explain the old-timey cars they like to put on, made long before innovations in plastic forming for the automobile industry.

I will get this posted before the brown van (UPS) service comes to deliver a brown parcel and have me engage in an financial transaction to pay for the tax and duty charges. No doubt timed for when I am eating chocolate with tea, as they already had me take a massive shit earlier. It is a Monday, and all manner of events are arranged with extra perp fuckery and insanity (theirs).


Anonymous said...

We shouldnt be suprised by there formal training in how certain people react to certain situations
Ahem... Dont leave your goat in the front yard for them to take .

The best to you and your family in these trying times .

AJH said...

Answer to: We shouldnt be suprised...

Not sure what the metaphor about leaving the goat means. Not "best to ... [my] family" because all those assholes are in on the harassment and my parents put me into MKULTRA (or like) abuses since birth. The MKULTRA abusers then turned me over for covert harasment. mind control and monitoring experimentation all my life, making it a 47 year long charade. Then in 04-2002 the assholes went into overt abuse on me and now I subsist in this living hell, the most constrained, abused and surveilled human being outside of a penitentiary. At times, I am not even allowed to walk in a straight line as a small force field will be activated to push me off course. And it gets worse than that, ALL DAY LONG, now for over 9.5 years. My family are nothing but sick assed abuse abetting quislings, and we know what happened to the term's namesake.