Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Laundry Games Again

For the second week in succession, the perps stopped my laundry load in mid washing, and put on the "unbalanced load" light. As in bullshit, the load wasn't unbalanced at the start because I have learned to always balance the laundry in the washing machine tub, and nor did it appear unbalanced when I attended to it. Just more fucking bullshit over screwing with my laundry, something they did at the outset when this insane reign of abuse began, April 2002. One half month to the ten year anniversary of this fucking hell the assholes put me in, and still keep me in.

More negro stalking at the exercise room; it doesn't matter when I go; 2:30, 3:30, 4:30 - the fucker is dressed up like a cleaner, and "just happens" to be loitering around when I am there. It used to be that he was never there, then his cleaning cart, and now every time, four in succession so far. What is the perp's insane preoccupation with making sure I get a surfeit of negro gangstalkers?

This time, I get the said negro doing this hang dog look waling toward me, making out he didn't see me coming, belligerently encroaching on the available space as we passed in the tight quarters of the change room.

Ditto another fuckwit yesterday; at the top of the stairs and making out he didn't hear me coming up, and the asshole was occupying the entire landing, until I said something to him. The "sorry" thing again. I don't respond to these any more, and they are clearly arranged.

The freak in class again, up to his personal space encroachment fuckery. He put his wool somethings next to my book when I had vacated my chair temporarily during a break, and I asked him to remove it, and he did. His bag on the floor somehow kept moving under my feet, and three times I pushed it away. A final space encroachment again, at the end of class, same scenario, pretending to not know I was there.

Then the "piss-brothers", doing tag-team pissing, one classmate swapping urinal use next to me while I was captive in an extended piss just before a late lunch. The perps just love to delay lunch, more than any other meal by far.

Open Office, and the assholes made the mouse-pointer unavailable by putting a "busy" circle in its place and not allowing any scroll control. Like WTF; this PC is plenty fast, Open Office is well behaved, and suddenly this sudden obstruction from nowhere, not even doing heavy searches.

The day of our final presentations in viticulture class, one extra table was added overnight to the classroom U shape, so the freak was one empty chair space away, not next to me. Though that did not stop him putting things between us to get them closer to me, and to have them contact my papers on the table surface.

Ditto at the library tonight; the dude with the backwards ball-cap doing his head bobbling and twisting also found a "need" to place his stuff over top of my papers on my desk.

On the street on my way back from class, a wacko dude in a blue and black checkered jacket was coming at me from the 10 o'clock position some, 80' away, and from a driveway while I was walking straight on the sidewalk. He he comes ambling along in this ridiculous gait, still coming at me some 20' away, and then when 8' away I look to see what his intentions are, and here he is looking backwards. The very moment I wanted to check the Fuckwit out, he is looking backwards at absolutely nothing, doing the intentional look-at-nothing move. I scuttled onto the road to get out of the Fuckwit's path, but to date, this represents the single most rudest and blatant ambulatory stunt to walk into me yet, and there was plenty of room for the Fuckwit to go behind me, which what the outcome was. Walking toward someone on a collision course from 80' away and then looking away at the critical collision avoidance moment; talk about taking the cake for idiotic street behavior.

Finished final term paper, and I was allowed to get on with it instead of being cognitively dithered, what they have done for six weekend days in the prior four weeks. We had had a final exam review, then an seeming impromptu student study session afterward, when some students moved tables and chairs to make it convivial. Then the class freak arrives two hours later, hangs around for 20 minutes, then seemingly departs. I get forced to take a piss, and lo, if the freak's doppelganger from last week isn't in the washroom too. I return to the classroom and lo, if the class freak is back when re-enter the room, arriving in my absence. The class freak then regales us with the story, probably true, that he got pulled over by the police while smoking dope while driving, but after some gruff exchange, he wasn't busted.

Then the class freak sits down, most strangely, as he clearly didn't want to participate in the study session, having already surveyed the scene and departing. So he chooses a seat exactly behind the class babe, me on her right, and he on her left. As in "Hide the freak", akin to other games of placing the Unfavored (male, unruly beard, dreads, rear hanging bag hat) behind someone who is Favored (attractive female), and only showing a glimpse of them. How often have I mentioned "auric co-opting" in this blog? Many times, though not recently.
Fortunately, the study session was almost over and we all departed within five minutes or so

Extra slow internet tonight; which also serves as the excuse to limit a web page's functionality, like having the yahoo email not fetch the names that match the pattern when I am entering them into the Recipient box. Talk about senseless functional decomposition.

Last day of viticulture classes, final exam; pub, then later trip to instructor's house for a final student get together.

Much red wine last night at the viticulture class final wind-up party, and lo, if there isn't a sharp increase in red colored gangstalking vehicles today. The usual choreographed sit-near-me games at the party, and others ignoring me. It seems some are chosen be given extra face time with me, pretending to be more of a pal all of a sudden. Nothing different than the prior decades, when work colleagues would have a friendly spell of a few months and then backed off for no reason. The ostensible reason was that there was a office move, or some other organizational event that covered for their fickle friendship.

I got totally fucked around going to the bank, having walked downtown to get there. They totally blanked me out to have me walk two extra blocks in the wrong direction, and then back again. They even had the RCMP police doing strange ambulatory back and forths in full kit, and arriving from an unmarked vehicle, assuming they didn't teleport the dick. And I knew where the bank was no less.

And insane vehicular traffic today, me walking to the college library to print, and lo, if it didn't print, then needing "help" because fucking windows won't display the printer queue. The librarian babe had to come to help me, and lo, if it didn't start printing when I was at the printer, and she at my desk, exchanging locations as she often putzes at the printer before I do a print job.

A $50 shuttle trip to the airport, and the road traffic was obscene, the driver making out that I have lived in Penticton too long. Well, it was like this in September when last in Kelowna in 2010, and the usual suspects were out in force; petroleum fuel products tankers, cement delivery trucks, the organized colors of vehicular gangstalkers (much greyscale colors with a red vehicle inserted into the cluster), motorcycles, boom trucks for high wire work and on and on. All in a day of vehicular gangstalking, though I am at a disadvantage if I don't know the town, which is the case.

A non-stop flight from Kelowna to Victoria, my first permitted flight since Oct-Nov. 2002. Almost needless to say, an increase of the same airline's commercials on TV, and the next, they doing some kind of dumbassed April Fools Day faux commercial about putting kids in the cargo bay, for which I fail to see the humor. It might even be a fair description of what they did to me in the "lost years", when aged 3 to 5, when I have no recollection of where I was or lived, save a few smatterings of recall. Other abusees of military excesses, have reported being transferred by aircraft, namely, Carol Rutz,  the author of A Nation Betrayed.

And a half full flight, in a Boeing 747-700, and to my dismay, I see they have put LED screens on the back of the seats, so they can pump whatever nasty mind-fuck/mind research irradiations into the faces of all the unsuspecting victims, ahem, passengers. And believe me, I have seen and felt some horrid irradiative/entraining energies coming off  LED displays for quite a few years now. And lo, if they didn't also put the "dog on", a small one in a cage in the passenger area of the aircraft, same as they do for the city bus trips, and of course, the vehicular gangstalking show.

A 1.5 hour wait in the airport, with a slow infiltration of seeming passengers filling in around me. I was allowed to have my back to the wall, so none of the games of ructions, rustling and inanity behind me. Such are my passing successes, measured by the degree of harassment I get. One Fuckwit 6' away was prone on the seats, and about 30 min. later this woman sits between us and brings her blue bag to put near me and gives me this strange piercing stare, to which I stared back. Like WTF; most women smile or say something if sitting close to someone, but no, this fucking weird stare. Then a hour later, my "gangstalking family", two young blonde girls, aged 4 and 6, and mom and dad, who led ahead of me through the security check, decided to relocate opposite me after having a seat somewhere else. How it is all those "passengers" ended up at Gate 7 for a 1750h and yet didn't get on the flight 197 was another mystery. It isn't a big airport, and wouldn't get 747's, so what was the big crowd for?

And for the third week in succession, the perps hold up the washing machine with my soggy laundry in it, the "load imbalance" light again, when there was only a quarter of a normal load. I move a few items around, seeing no cause for the putative load problem, put the lid on, and the washing machine comes back to life.

I should of got this done earlier, but things being what they are, I don't have much of a choice in how and when things get done.

I am at the First Feral Family house, looking for a used automobile to purchase. (Much easier to look for a vehicle with a borrowed one). I am getting jammed left and right; do I get a Volvo, my fave, or go with a Honda or a Toyota, the latter two maintainable in Penticton where I plan to live, should I get a vineyard gig. And now that three months of viticulture training is over, I desperately need a gig, and seem to be the only one in the class who cannot get one, even if I have four years of farm work gigging behind me. And too, I asked lots of questions in class, while everyone else hung back (per perp script IMHO), so what is going on? To be fair, April is a slack month for vineyard work, as the pruning should be done, and they get serious with shoot tucking and green shoot pruning in May. As always, I cannot buy a break, even if I had the cash, which is severely crimped right now.

A busy day today all round; I got my ass, back and legs waxed today, in keeping with this new-found (read, imposed) hairless body ethic, save my head, as I would NEVER want to be seen as the disgusting perp sight of the (very Unfavored) skinheaded males (usually), as if I escaped from somewhere. No escape for me of course, living in a in-situ prison, called mind-control and human experimentation abuse. It was the same person who waxed my back and ass last December, though she didn't look as scared shitless this time, feigning some conversation that didn't register as I later learned upon saying goodbye.

Now the wait to see if the perps use the excuse for my ass waxing to launch another round of shit games. Regular readers will know that the perps have routinely turned the act of taking a crap into one of high abuse, plastering it on my ass and making a severe mess of it, needing plunging and showering often times. They backed off this abuse in fall-2011, and I thought that the ass waxing to remove the hairs that serve as the perp's excuse to plaster shit on me. But NO, they resumed shit plastering me as of Dec. 12, 2011 when I had the ass waxing, and only backed off this past month. Just when the last vestige of an excuse was eliminated, ass hair, they just merrily plastered me with extra shit anyways when taking a crap. So there, go figure that in conventional terms, especially when the shit games suddenly unfolded as of April 15, 2002.

The waxing attendant showed me the color of the wax this time, and it was lime green, though no wax remains on me. So I wasn't too surprised to see a surge of  lime green dressed gangstalkers while out today, as well as lime green vehicles. They are also going heavy on red vehicles too, putting four in file, all the same red color tone even. Other times, I had at least twelve silver grey vehicles clustered around me in traffic. They had at least five police/police vehicles out, and three fire department cruise-abouts too. The vehicle traffic was obscene, this Tuesday mid-day, and no doubt in an excited level, having been waxed, powdered and whatevered by the waxing/spa attendant. Also, at least 15 brown colored vehicles were inserted into the gangstalking mix over the afternoon, about the most brown gangstalking vehicles I have seen in one outing, ever.

The perps even arranged a ridiculous slanging match at a used car lot; the salesman was running a hose, and asked me if he could, help and I said yes. Then he made out that he couldn't hear me, and the perps trashed my hearing, and so it got to be ridiculous really quick. Then he accused me of having an "attitude", and I said I came to look at Volvos, and then not hearing again, he told me to get off the lot. He was still running the hose, so I ignored the Fuckwit, and looked over this Volvo 850, while he was still running the water and cleaning something. As I was leaving, he told me the Volvo was sold, and I said something like, "is it now?" and departed. This ridiculous scene had to be rigged, as the guy wasn't going to move from his running hose, or was in any way interested in making a sale. Quite silly, all in all, and about the most adverse salesman experience I have ever encountered, starting up very fast, and of no seeming issue. As always, the perps like to deviate from stereotypes, but one never knows when. The adjacent car lot also had a Volvo, which I was hovering over, and no salesman came out. More arranged absurdity to be sure.

And in keeping with the perp's incremental allowance of exposure to permissible interaction; first the salesman doesn't come at all, the next time on a car lot, the salesman resorts to a anti-customer rant, per above, while 20' away and running a hose/noise source he does nothing about. Maybe next, the salesman will appear normal, and then get suddenly called off in mid-interaction. I am sure I will find out soon enough, though next blog posting. Stay tuned for the TI Victim Goes Car Shopping. Seeing that my daughter did some many weeks of serious car shopping about four months ago, having far more money than me, the perps might being trying to do a composite study of the human energetic interaction on car shopping. Such are the trivial minds at work, and a lifetime of it no less. Not to mention the surge of no replies to my email queries to vehicle vendors.

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