Sunday, May 27, 2012

GMail Takedown

What is it about GMail that it is near totally obstructed and sabotaged? For the last two years I got blocked from setting up a GMail account because the squiggly letter (anti-spammer scraping) test always failed, even if I did have it right according the audio version. The  the outfit that sold me the 4G Android phone said I needed one and created it at the store. But because I have a Yahoo account as my primary account. GMail keeps turfing me out and says it will make the GMail account as my primary account. But as it "happened", I did get into my GMail account five days ago, and got my contacts from Yahoo (totally hopeless for managing contacts for the version that I get) and my old-time Sony Clie PDA. And so these contacts were ordered, sorted and grouped in GMail, and I still had some more work to do as some groups needed deletion (no contacts in them) and there was no group deletion feature on the online GMail version I get. Soo... for a few days at least, I could get my way around the clunky Google interface and fix up my contacts. Then two days ago, they logged me out, and lo, if they didn't put that obstructional page up again by making reference to my Yahoo account. I stumble into what seems to be a GMail login page, and it won't take my password. I am totally hooped now, as my contacts need to be downloaded to my Android phone and I cannot get into GMail from there either. And GMail has started another stunt, refusing my password, and in trying to recover, pulling dumbshit questions to authenticate me. Just another managed nightmare of near-total obstruction. I say "near-total", as they give me enough room to think GMail is working, and then have me build and consolidate my contacts list, and then block me again before I can send the contacts list to the Android environment where I have a hope of keeping it maintained.

And if online obstruction wasn't enough, the Post Office wouldn't take my change of address notice, "because" it was from a motel. No problem going to one, but not from one. Go figure. The woman at the PO was suggesting that the motel wouldn't be making up or applying the change notices to the mail. Of course they wouldn't like any house address. The mail gets re-directed by the postal people, no one else.

A major vehicular clusterfuck when going to the bank to deposit a paycheck. Longtime readers will know that the perps go totally beserk when I make a financial transaction, especially one that involves payment to me. And so it is with vehicles suddenly aggregating around me, and continuously, such that I dare not jaywalk. I cross the road at the 4 way stop, always a major pedestrian consideration given the FUD that erupts among the drivers, especially where the road is two lanes wide.

I see yesterday's and today's blogging got wiped out by the assholes. And they were saved in Blogspot prior to any PC shutdown. Today is Sunday, and one that I now have off, as past crop farming goes on day after day during the growing season. Viticulture is more ordered and scheduled.

No tanning in the sun today as it is overcast. So a salon tan, going in person to make a reservation as she wasn't answering the phone. A bald headed dude was loitering there, and at least 10 years older than the blonde babe at the desk. When I returned he was still there, and of course, when I exited.  A bona fide Fuckwit, doing the hang-about for no seeming reason because he wasn't doing much in the way of romantic interests.

A visit to a record store, and a bookstore across the street. I spent money at both, though from plans/intents formed some months or years ago. As always, financial transactions attract the Fuckwits. In the bookstore, a cripple act managed to stalk me before going to the cashier, and then when purchasing. Not to mention I ended up behind the cashier desk looking at the viticulture texts, where they "happened" to be kept.

Then to LD and this bum/vagrant act arrived noiselessly right behind me at the cashier. When I was allowed to notice I moved some to avoid this interpersonal space invasion, and the customer ahead of me found reason to look at me when there was no reason to, as I didn't say anything. When it was my turn at the cashier, the bum/vagrant act starts coughing, and continued through my debit card transaction. Like WTF; here he was buying orange pop and he should of been getting cough mixture. Just like my bookstore stalker, he was on a walker. I don't know what the perps' interest in walkers is, but they use them plenty often as some kind of prop to represent partial physical incapitance. Perhaps they don't have the same subconscious traumatization associations as wheelchairs of the 1950's do, when they wiped my recall when aged 2 to 5.

A national holiday in Canada today, the Queens Birthday, aka Victoria Day. It is her official birthday, not her real one. Get all that? Most just take the long weekend to get their holiday homes in order and plant their garden in the colder climes. The vehicular gangstalk and other perp hijinx were muted today, attempting to conform with the reduced holiday traffic. An emphasis on gangstalking pickups, especially the raised ones, getting near monster pickup size. I have no idea as to why the perps use pickups so much, sometimes five of five in a serial string, and four will be black, and one middle one they are attempting to hide at first will be red. Sure, one can put brown cardboard, lumber and garbage and other regular props in a pickup, but most often they are empty.

A variable task day on the vineyard; fertilizing the one year old infill vines, cleaning up the young vine protection devices, and doing shoot thinning at the head of the vine trunk. Not a lot of instruction on the latter task, so I am hoping it was done OK. The owners have family visiting, and one party is starting a cidery in conjunction with the planned winery. I don't know where this is going to all happen, save the two door garage with all manner of fermentation vessels and filters.

The perps pulled a light rainfall for the afternoon, but still flew their helicopters overhead, and one in sight when driving home. But, there is an airport within a mile or so, and a helicopter school there too, so I don't have a basis to state that they are out there for me. In past years when not near the airport, and often when I went outside, they had a helicopter pass over. The overflights of the STRATCOM aircraft were heard much of they day, though of course not seen for the cloud cover. All my life they have an unerring knack for flying them overhead, and all along I thought they were doing their duty in keeping nuclear delivery capability aloft. There is more to it than that in my experience, but I don't know of anyone who has a reasonable explanation for why they do this, spread contrails and their exotic patterns, and how this is connected to us violated shmo's (TI's) on the ground. The red plasma contrail of last week suggests a stronger connection. Also, I routinely get masers or plasma emanations from aircraft, especially if they have radar, as military aircraft has.

About two years ago, one of the Mexican farm laborers was heading back to Mexico in a few hours, and he stopped by the farm to say goodbye, even though he didn't speak English. He just hung around, and I wished him "bon voyage". About two hours later, a passenger jet was airborne from the nearby airport, and a pronounced maser came off the aircraft at me. Just speculating of course, but it could of been arranged to come off the Mexican, pass through the aircraft and right at me, as these things take a second or two to arrive, often with some meander in the maser as it comes at me, not a direct line. Anyhow, I get masers all day long, from patches on the road, from nowhere, from other vehicles, from cell phones, from soil exposures, off of Fuckwits and everywhere else. Nothing new, just much more than there once was.

The perps wanted a light rainfall load on the leaves of the vines as I was pulling some of them off the plant, thinning out their density as buds will burst forth from under the bark, and not just from the canes that we left in place and tied down. So the rain wetted leaves were thinned out by yours truly, this the soft green shoot phase still, and no bother to pluck from the vine. The perps put much emphasis on wetting things, and I routinely get wet spots arriving from nowhere, either on me when in the kitchen or bathroom or on the countertops.

Speaking of which, two nights ago they had me wake up at 0400h, have me drink cold green tea (an off yellow color) from the fridge even if I wasn't thirsty, and then have a pee. Some kind of color testing, in and out and within a minute of each other it seemed. There were also some voices from outside, speaking in a foreign European language. When I got up and after breakfast, I read the news and there is an earthquake in N. Italy, occuring at 0403h. Well, this bathroom and yellow color testing was at the same clock time locally, but they are nine hours ahead in Italy, so it wasn't at the same moment in real time. Anyhow, it leaves me curious as to what this awakening episode was about, when it didn't serve any apparent purpose, and they haven't awakened me in the night for a year at least.

A two CD Katie Melua purchase yesterday, getting my fix of female muses. The House has some interesting song titles; Tiny Alien being one song; like WTF, where would the inspiration come for this come from? Other obscure titles like Red Balloons, No Fear of Heights, A Moment of Madness etc. do make me wonder if this isn't all driven by the Thems.

Back from a day's toil in the vineyard, thinning green shoots all day, and still some to go tomorrow. On the way back I went to the Post Office to see if they would allow me to submit a mail re-direction request or not, as the sub-PO said I couldn't because it was a motel. Well so what? This time a dude instead of the dipshit over-dyed red hair woman at the sub-PO and he attempts to give me the line that the motel staff would be re-directing the mail. LIke WTF; and this time I challenged him and said the remaining residents of a move-out situation are not responsible for redirecting the mail ever, as the Post Office does this. Then he gives me some other BS, and finally admits it makes no sense. The dye-job woman at the sub-PO said the same, giving me the line that the motel would be changing the address. No, and No; the Post Office puts a yellow adhesive label on the front of the envelope with the new address, just like the US PO does for mail re-directions. So... two supposedly independent Post Office personnel on two different occasions and locations give me the same bullshit that the motel re-directs the mail when it is the Post Office. To get two culls to say the same thing that is totally incorrect when they are in a position to know better takes orchestration and scripting IMHO.

The TV in this motel room suddenly fritzed out yesterday while I was watching this dreamy babe on TV, a UK series called Fake or Fortune. So while having tea and having just consumed 100g of chocolate, the motel keeper comes with a new TV and I help him out, undoing and doing up connections. Off he goes with the old one, and lo, if the perps didn't screw me into "needing" to eat another 100g chocolate bar with my second cup of tea. Once done, and dishes too, I boot up this PC and it hangs and the second attempt it goes into Repair Mode boot up. Note that the TV and this PC are not connected by any wire, connection HDMI cable. So how did the PC "just "happen" to flake out in empathy with the TV being swapped? I don't know, but as always, these things are connected in the perp's minds and having someone arrive in mid-brown (chocolate) feed is important. Go figure.

Then this replacement TV has a cluster of pixels knocked out, in a 1/4" size or so, and at the bottom of the screen. And now that the Stanley Cup playoffs are on TV, why, said dead pixel cluster is the size of the puck when view 6' away and deliberately placed to be momentarily confused with the puck where the camera angle shows the rink with the edge at the bottom of the screen. When the perps assaulted me with noise, sights, teleportations, light flashes and other strange phenomenon in making themselves known to me in 04-2002, one of their "tricks" was to have two small blackish masers, like the size and trajectory of large houseflies, come together and then take a strange turn back the way they came.  I suppose the daily inundation of specks of lint, crumb and debris, and its momentary confusion with artfully placed same size and color pits, divots and imperfections on countertops is all part of this deranged interest of theirs, attempting to determine some energetic signature from the speck of debris as that on the countertop. Another of the Go Figure category of perp abuses/obsessions.

A day of planting grape vine plants, Pinot Noir from France no less. The perps like me to be planting plants and will often start their noise eruptions the instant I have finished the task. This time though, we have 250 plants to plant, and they are long ones which means a deeper hole, as the roots must also be straightened out in the hole. The perps also like me sowing seeds, a similar act, though in the past it has been mostly grass seed. My perp abetting mother is also getting in on the act, as some of the lawn patching failed at her place, and so she is re-seeding these patches, one by one.

And my farm worker colleague in Gangstalk City (Victoria, BC), Canada has finished her 9 month horticulture course and been outed from two lawn mowing jobs in the last month. And what is she going to do now? Why, working on a vineyard and planting vines. The coincidences never end, they get escalated.

And why is it that the perps arrange certain regular grocery stores to be out of specific items? The latest is cycling me to get my morningtime staple of yogurt from a third location. First WF was constantly out of 650g size Olympic Krema, and then I got it at QF for about a month. Now, both are out as of yesterday, and I had to go to a SOF. And lo, if two gangstalkers didn't converge on me when I picked it up on the shelf, having to extend my arm at full length; a woman stands 4' away "waiting" for me, and a dude also comes down the aisle to follow me to the cashier. Then extra putzing at the cashier to become a member, and lo, if I didn't get an extra $3 back for joining. Considering I had $70 cash disappear from my wallet a few weeks ago, it is no compensation. I have had cards pilfered from my wallet in the night, so object teleportation abuses, theft and harassment is nothing new here. But why cannot I get my food from who I want, when I want instead of being jerked with all over town, by some sick depraved agency covertly testing the provenance of my groceries?

Then the mail order games go on; an outfit that sells wheels had flat-free wheelbarrow tires, and given the chronic deflated state of my perp-abetting mother's wheelbarrow tire, it was long overdue. And they said it was to come to Surrey and then shipped from there, but no, it ended up in Calgary, and I had to phone and explain what was going on. Then he was keen to ship it to me in Penticton BC, but I suggested it would be simpler to send it to my mother's place in Victoria and be done with it. And he said he would send me two quotes with the different shipping charges and I said that was fine. When I get the email I cannot open the version with the Victoria quote on it. So screw it, I fax my order to get it sent here. All timed for me to be flying to Victoria June 16, and having to take this infernal wheelbarrow tire with me on the flight. Then someone else from the wheel supplier also chimes in with an email and tells me to come pick the tire up, as if I am in Calgary, when I am plainly not. Like WTF; who arranges this nonstop gongshow around me?

The near weekly schedule of the next door neighbor doing soft rythmic banging on the wall, as if humping someone. The strange thing is, there never seems to be another involved party. Long time readers will know the perps often arrange sex acts in the next room, or nearby, and the most consistent reason I can find out is that there is a release of "orgone"/psychic/kundalini/etc. energy at orgasm, and while not in the same league as an electric motor starting up (EMF spike), it is all part of the perps' games in having biofield detectors/creators placed around me. See Wilheim Reich and orgone and orgasm energy if interested (here). He was a contemporary of Einstein, and when they met in the US, they had a very productive meeting about Reich's scientific results of orgone energy research, but after that, Einstein cut off any communication. More grist for the mill that we are living in a world of "stalled physics understanding", where there is a huge science knowledge gap between quantum forces and Newtonian forces (and electromagnetic forces too, say some), and there is no mainstream accepted theoretical construct to connect the two. Ergo, the Unity/Unified Field theorists, of which there are many, and most center on there being an energetic ether, not unlike the energy fields described in Chinese science and medicine. I could go on, but one can get the picture from online research.

And I see that the perps just terminated my Windows session and cost me the last five minutes of keyboarding more details of today's suntanning on the beach. They had me out in the sun for 2.5 hours before they parked a big cloud overhead. That and the abundant hot-rod and motorcycle noise, some 3 per minute, were a virtual repeat of my last outside tanning of two weeks ago. It seems this particular experiment has a two week cycle, as the weather has been so changeable all week there wasn't any expectation of getting any tan while in shorts on the vineyard. Last weekend was bad enough that I did a salon tan. The vitamin D and sunshine effects are an intense perp study component, as is moving in and out of shade and shadows between me and my gangstalkers.

Yoga yesterday, the first class in over a year, and the semi-hot kind. I survived OK, even if a parade of arranged class members came in at the last minute. One being the classic male gangstalker; long haired, under a ball cap, baggy shorts below the knees and wearing red. (Aka, the shiftless male). A pillar in the middle of the room makes for odd student placement in the class, though interesting, I was the only one with a E-W mat orientation, everyone else (about 10) stayed clear of me with their N-S orientation mats. The female instructor was super buff and super tanned as well as athletic. My vineyard co-worker was there, in her red hair (Unfavored) in a top bun, the latest in perp sponsored hair-wear, and even the blondes (Favored) are doing this too now. So it would seem that the female top bun hair is also an Unfavored feature. Strange hair for males, long, ponytailed or otherwise is always Unfavored. Who knows what they did to me in the 1950's, and maybe 1960's to now have me with subconscious tramatization associations they are still looking to resolve, i.e., apply remotely applied brain-retraining to remove these associations.

Another day of intense HD motorcycle noise, designed it would seem to noise pattern me at the beach for two hours and then again while inside and attempting to view a movie. The wretched noise got so invasive I had to give up the movie, about an hour into it. So much for freedom, as movies have been highly restricted since 2005. Having me watch a partial movie is just what the perps like doing, and for that matter, partially reading books and the like. They cannot get enough of protracting completion or not completing tasks at all.

Time to post this lest I get another PC shutdown or else an internet access obstruction like all of last evening. 

Friday, May 18, 2012


I am doing the back torturing work of removing the sucker shoots off the main trunk of the grapevine. It means getting down on one's knees, or crouching, and giving the trunk a massage, as one is not only rubbing the obvious shoots off, but also the buds under the bark that one cannot see. Many of these vines are 25 years old, over 6" in diameter, so there is a lot of surface area to cover. The vines are in rows, about 4' apart, and so after crouching or kneeling for a minute or so, one pauses to consider if it the least effort to crawl the 4' or stand up and walk it, and then crouch/kneel again. Consider that there is six acres and 1800 vines/acre, one's motivation flags at times.

The usual plethora of five or more contrails out in the sky today, sometimes creating a radiating pattern that converges at a mountaintop, as seen in the distance. One unusual contrail, seen twice, is mid-grey colored ones that rippled through the high cloud, and were grey against the blue sky. How does that happen?

And the deep red colored floatplane was out on Skaha Lake doing at least three passes. This is the same floatplane that flew past the beach where I was tanning, and seemingly coordinated with the same color deep red plasma coloring of a section of a white contrail that was overhead. These contrails are very high elevation, 30k to 50k feet, and here the perps are "coloring in" a section of one just for me to see overhead for all of two seconds or so.

A light coating of yellowish dust in on my vehicle after being parked at the vineyard where I was working. I suspect it was pollen, but as the vineyard owner sprayed with a sulfur, I took my vehicle in to pressure wash it on the heels of last weekend's extensive vehicle cleaning. I go to the car washing cleaning bays, and then to the change machine, which first accepts my $5 bill, spits it out, and takes it in/out over some three cycles, leaving it hanging out. I pull on it to release it, and put the same $5 in the adjacent machine, and it is accepted and lo, I get my change in $2 coins and one $1 coin. I go back to the bay, insert a $2 coin into the washer control panel and it passes it through, not accepting it. Twice more, same deal. I put in the other $2 coin, and it gets accepted. Like, what kind of insane Fuckwit has to piss with my money and have it rejected by two different coin machines?

I pressure wash the vehicle to get the dust off, and then depart the premises. Some three blocks later, a traffic jam, and the traffic moves very slowly. I get my camera out to take a picture of two same blue-green vehicles parked in file, and the camera has a "lens malfunction", as it won't project the lens barrel. Anyhow, I finally get to where I am going to turn, and lo, if the police haven't blocked the Main street of Penticton, and are putting on their flashing red and blue lights some three blocks away. I finally get back to my place after an escort of greyscale colored vehicles, some matched to the mid-grey of my Camry, and lo, if they don't have a pressure washing job here at this motel where I am staying.

And so, I get this hissing pressure washing noise for the rest of evening, from 1600h to 2000h, during the hockey game I am watching, while writing this blog, and the rest of my evening. I call this variant of   noisestalking, "noise continuity", ensuring that the noise of one location is replicated later in a different location. It seems to be more frequent now, the perps ensuring the noise continuance.

Another example would be the horrendous and much loathed HD motorcycle noise. They inundated me with this noise all of the past weekend, and when at work in the vineyard, why, they put this same noise on, though from a distance. Later, aircraft make similar noise as well.

But as this vineyard is some 5km from the Penticton Airport, one can expect all kinds of aircraft, which does "happen". So all the helicopter flyovers now have a semi-legit excuse; there is a nearby airport which they might be flying too. Though it is clear that some are just "passing by", and have no local airport association. As usual, the STRATCOM B-52 overflights were on, and the associated contrails.

The motocycle noise is backed off today for some reason (as of the present, 1535h), and weekday noise games are now the equal of the weekend noise games. Go figure. BUT one very loud HD noise erupted a short time ago- I had to take off my earmuffs, and at that instant it got very loud, so I put the heels of my palms against my ears to block it out.

Another day of back bending de-suckering work, but with more heat, as in higher daytime temperature. But, the job is finished, and hopefully there will be no more like that. The perps had me reasonably OK by 1200h, but sacked me for availble energy by 1400h, with one more hour to go.

They went beserk with the infuriation harassment this morning; things fell by themselves, things rattled extra long after setting them down, they sent me to the wrong drawer or cupboard at least twice, and others. At least 20 vocalized enragements before they let me in on why; the opening of a new package of ground coffee is a BIG DEAL for the perps, (think brown color), and getting me extremely irate just beforehand just has to be so funny for them. Though, they did stick some coffee grounds to the empty spoon (static electricity, har, har) which fell onto the stove top. They are, the sickest assholes in the whole universe. But for some reason they didn't blow off a skiff of it onto the counter, creating their longstanding favorite Fuckover stunt, spilling coffee (grounds or liquid).

Back in the days of living as a teen in the First Feral Family home, I wondered why my next younger brother would always create a mess on the counter with his coffee, especially after I cleaned it. As in, how could he be such an unaware slob to pull the same mess everytime I finished cleaning the counter? My nickname for him was "Coffee Mess". And here we are over 35 years later, and the perps have this insane obsession over all things brown, and it was most likey that the coffee messes were arranged.

And too, said coffee grounds are in a all-red package instead of a white and red package, the local Okanagan Valley brand. And there is no rhyme or reason to what coffee (beans, ground) goes in what color of bag. No doubt the new all-red packaging color is cause for extra perp excitement in the form of extra infuriation and abuse, aka, enragement.

Pounding music vibrations start up at this seeming confluence of insane fuckery, including some things brown. I am attempting to fix this wretched Windows 7 game over "My Music", and now have two of them when the file names are different when one looks at the properties. In the properties box, one is named  "Music" and the other "My Music". All I wanted was the FLAC, MP3, and WAV files in separate directories under one "Music" directory name. But somehow, this simple rename became a copy job of 192Gb (the entire music library) into two different directoris simultaneously. The dialog box indicates an hour of processing/copying time, and I believe it, at 32Mb/second.

Soo... I decide to leave this PC to do its copying, and lo, if a sudden need to take a crap doesn't erupt. Then the perps block the toilet, so I need to let it drain for a while. Soo... I have my dinner, as in brown tortilla covering a quesadilla, and ginger beer, a light tan brown. Once done, and the dishes are cleaned, then back to deal with the toilet; some more plungings and finally it is cleared. Simultaneously, three shirts are hanging up to dry in the bathroom, and one is in the sink soaking as the assholes did not get the cuffs clean in the washing machine. All other shirts in the same load came clean. I go to find some spot remover, and lo, I don't have any, not having brought any with me when I came here in January. (Or else it got stolen, and these things have happened before). One of the most essential items I need to deal with perp sabotage after a toilet plunger and scissors (to cut the myriad of threads of clothing that somehow spring loose), is spot remover, and I don't have any here. Which means, I will have to go out somewhere to get some. What a fucking hassle. And this confluence of fuckery and color games, (brown games too),  I am getting this room pounded and vibrated by seeming neighbors with big feet and loud music.

Another day on the vineyard, lowering the tucking wires to a position to make them available for later use in containing the shoots vertically, between a pair of trellis wires.

Last evening's fuckery and diversion, from unneed file copying (192Gb), toilet games, to laundry sabotage to getting spot remover, and re-laundering the one shirt that somehow couldn't come clean (it did finally), served to divert me from getting dinner made to then serve as left overs for lunch today. So.. it was two slices of chicken in shrink wrap for lunch in the tiffen tin acquired in an planted fit of Life Without Plastic that began two years ago. The perps seem to revel in creating these contraventions of principle, statements, intentions and this would be one example. And too, they seem to be testing me for re-introducing plastic objects in my midst, which includes shrink wrapped food.

And of some interest, my female surrogates with relative freedom, my daughter, ex and mother are on a junket to Ottawa, New York City and Washington DC. This is a whirlwind trip that is for a week, so I cannot think why this erupted now, though I have some suspicions about the locations. Ottawa was the region of military experimentations on children in the 1950's, as was NY state, though not NY City that I know of. I don't know what was done to child subjects in Washington DC back then. I only know of this through reports and books of other TI's, and the found photos on the Indian Lake Project on Blogspot. Another location of attrocities to children then was Montreal, and it is not on their itinerary. As mentioned many times, someone wiped out nearly all my recall when aged 2 to 5, so I don't know from firsthand experience what was done to me and the other children. The harassment themes appear to partially replicate situations of military, clerical and clinical circumstances, so I can only assume that they are attempting to replicate subconscious traumatizaton associations of these lost years. And as there is a considerable locational/provenance component to this abuse, it would seem to me that sending in the three closest female relatives on a short junket to the two known locations of this state sponsored child abuse back then is interesting timing.

My mother has been yakking on (read, name dropping) about visiting Ottawa and New York City for at least six years, and she has never lived or even visited either one to my knowledge. How she came to fixate on these two particular locations was never made clear to me, and she plays the batty dipshit card very well in my interactions. And too, the perps could teleport them there anytime for whatever reason, but it seems they want to make some kind of energetic correlation to conventional travel and visitation.

The frequency of the awful HD motorcycle noise has abated by at least a half or more compared to last weekend. Though the hot-rod engine noises have increased, but not to the level of the past four weeks. Which supports my claim that these noises and drivebys are arranged for perp purposes and that they can schedule them at will. Not forgetting that they can also project noise, that is, no apparent conventional source, but create the noise as if it were coming from the street and aforementioned sources.

I was making playlists up earlier, and quite a lot of outside tromping, door slamming, dude yakking noise erupted while I pressed the "Create" or select buttons on the application. Again, I have no idea why something so pedantic needs all this attention from the Abuser General and his minions.

Other perp related games was to have an adjacent vineyard do a concrete pour with a boom-pump truck to loft the concrete some 60' in the air. The past vineyard I worked at did the same; a patio expansion  job needed four large columns of concrete poured, and used much the same rig. That a concrete boom-pumper truck was beside me in traffic this morning for at least 4 minutes likely wasn't a fluke either. That and the ever present police vehicles that this town seems to overfund to have so many of them "happening" to show up in my presence.

I will post this one early, and start Saturday and Sunday with a new posting.

Monday, May 14, 2012

New Vineyard

This is a six acre vineyard where I started a new job today, overlooking Skaha Lake for a beautiful view all work day long. The last gig was short term as I only there untill the Mexican visa workers arrived, next weekend apparently. And too, I see the obligatory faux (no)-job posting on Job Bank, something the vineyards and farm employers are to do, even if the Mexicans were arranged six months ago, as is usually the case. Understand that it isn't even competitive at all, just an obligatory go-through-the-motions job posting for vineyard workers when they have absolutely no intention of hiring locally qualified personnel. Yep, we Canadians get to become second class citizens in our own country that gives the jobs to the Mexicans who send the money there, with none of it aiding local businesses. Go figure.

A day of tying canes with some final pruning cuts if the but count on the cane is more than 10, and cutting the last two canes down to two buds each if the long tie-down canes have their 10 buds.

Tying vine canes down to the trellis wire all day today; always extra noise, commotion or verbal engagement when I am ending a row and changing direction in a new row.

When I get back to motel unit, there was a red ball-capped dude in a pickup coming the opposite way, so we crossed paths to park our respective vehicles. Said dude hangs back to cross my path again while walking, leads me up the stairs, hangs back so he could be seen at the door of the adjacent room, but turned to face me for some curious reason.I haven't had gangstalking quite so blatant as this in a while, and I hope it is the last time.

A disproportionate number of of pickups on gangstalking when I am driving back from the vineyard job at 1630h. Sometime four or more in a single train on the two lane road.

The perps made my face extra red again; SPF 60 should block me all day, when it seems it cannot last two hours. On at 0800h, re-apply at 1200h, and the assholes make my face red as if I had burned it. they did this two weeks ago when starting the short term cane tying job in Oliver. [05-14-2012; I put on the same sunblock once at 1000h, and "forgot" to put more on at noon, but my face wasn't red with non-stop sunshine; go figure]

A "need" to go to the tanning salon after my shopping yesterday evening. And for the first time there (after some 20 visits), they didn't put on a vehicular cavalcade to come by immediately before and afterward. It is only 25' to my parked vehicle, but there was always traffic crisscrossing my path as I walked fromt the adjacent parking lot to the door of the tanning salon. And no one else there either, save the attendant putting on another cleavage show with a tattoo and a pendant that kept dangling in the way.

Then ... tanning, back at the residence, a piece on Pres. Bill Clinton on PBS' American Experience. Very interesting that he somehow and uncharacteristically blurted out "gays in the military" in response to a reporter's question, and that became the reason he pursued the issue, to save face. And that led to the ridiculous "don't ask, don't tell" policy. Hmm..., the perps have me blurting out some imprudent things I didn't intend so I wonder if Pres. Clinton wasn't...... You fill in the blanks.

Double vision on the way back from tanning. There is absolutely no reason whatsoever for this to occur at all, and post salon-tanning seems to be a bigger gangstalker moment than beforehand. Given that the perps arrange outdoor lights and headlights on me all the time, aka pit-lamping, having the victim lie down among 6' long flourescent tanning lights must the perfect perp arrangement.

An alarm clock jerkaround this morning; awakening at 0700h when the alarm should of rung at 0530h. No time for the usual breakfast rountine. No coffee, just the food, then do the dishes, no shower or shave, just use Deep Clean to wash my face, my usual dental hygeine, and then get lunch ready and packed to leave at 0730h. Call it what you will, they haven't pulled this shit on me since 2007 when they screwed with me and the berry picking job. I had been awakening at 0500h for the prior two weeks by setting the alarm faithfully, so it couldn't of been me, and it was a normal bedtime.

Extra aggravation for the morning routine; extra and persistent crumbs, hairs, lint, teleportational comebacks when the lint/crumb/hair was dispatched to the garbage. Also imposed fumbling and dropping of objects, imposed "forgets" of daily routine items.

It is always interesting to see what else the perps pull on the same day as these abbreviated morning time stunts. It was my third day of work at the new vineyard, and the first day I watered the specified landscape plants as the wife-owner was out of town, and she said her husband was hopeless at doing the job. And as regular readers will know, the perps are absolutely beserk about watering (irrigating) plants, and the color of the hoses. Today, it was a black rubber hose to water the plants near the house, and a green one feeding into a red one when watering the plants at the fishpond, some 80' away. Not forgetting that red and green, common colors the perps like to place together as they are energetic opposites according to JK Harms. Yesterday, when walking past this same red hose as it lay on the ground, the perps flashed a projection from it that was colored green for at least two seconds. Such ghosting and image projection happens all the time, though mostly of sub-second duration and in white or light yellow. I get high hundreds of these a day, but this one was particularly notable as it was dark green, identical to the hose diameter and layout and hung in the air for about a whole two seconds as I was walking along.

Another arranged gambit was that the housecleaners arrived immediately ahead and behind me, effectively escorting me into the property. The lead green vehicle was sitting at the roadside on the L. side no less, and once I appeared pulled across the road and made the corner in one arc. Then the driver pulled into the driveway to attend to the gate while I was left hanging there in mid-street. Out gets this older blonde woman, and she was huge, a massive butt to say the least. Anyhow, the green vehicle proceeded to the house while I parked in a pullout by the driveway. The black pickup followed and did the same.

I was still in my vehicle putting on my sunblock when the husband-vineyard owner came by in his vehicle, and he stopped to mention a few things. I was without my glasses on, a common perp arrangement (or derangement, if you prefer), and my window was half down. And as it was electric, it wouldn`t go down as the ignition was off. So... here is talking to me as to which vine rows to avoid as he sprayed last night (cutworm problem), and visible without my glasses and some sunscreen smeared on my face, and partially through one pane of glass of my vehicle. And as he would of seen the employment start forms I filled out yesterday, he mentioned how young I look for my age. (I am 57, and look younger than 37 for those who don`t follow this blog frequently; due to perp sponsored age reversing energies applied to me back in 2004). He said he was envious, and like clockwork, I said don`t be, though not alluding to how this was done to me. Even the TI`s I met in 2010 in Nanaimo agreed that I now look younger when I showed them the photo of me pre-abuse and harassment onset in 04-2002. Though most curiously, they were totally emotionally flat about it, a very common reaction I get from just about everyone, leading me to suspect the TI get-together was perp sponsored.

Anyhow, I get to the house and "find out" that the two vehicles that escorted me into the property were the cleaners that were scheduled. As I get to the house, why a young attractive blonde was at the door, an effective switch from the fat older one who got out of her vehicle at the gate. I mention to the young one at the door that I don`t need to go into the house, just to get my supplies on the veranda outside. Call it ``blonde switching`, a common tactic of the perps, switching an Unfavored sight-visage (fat, older) with Favored (slim, attractive, blonde female).

Ongoing motorcycle noise outside tonight, continuing the same noisescape from yesterday, and the recent past weekend, which was near nonstop. And if the motorcycle noise gets too silly, say at 0700h in the morning, why, substitute the hotrod noise instead. There is no biker bar nearby, it is a public park across the street, and it is not a major thoroughfare either. (The long way around to Hwy 97, when traffic would ordinarily take Westminister from downtown to Hwy 97. And have I indicated in past blogs just how much I loathe the sound of loud motorcycles, particularly the HD brand. I don't know why the perps have started with such fervor on this noise since last month. It was the weekend only, and now it is into Wednesday now. Expanding the most-loathed noise of the noisescape to all week it seems.

In shorts all day; though the wind was turned up in the afternoon to the point of getting too cold, so I put my sweater on with 15 minutes left to work in the day. Goose pimples on my legs for most of the day. Maybe the whole concept is for me to admire my recently waxed legs, which is what they seem to do when I am in the bathroom and taking a shower.

Mouse fucking again, the sport of the perps; having it not select, or the click action not be recieved and momentarily faking me out as to if the mouse click worked. Absolutely hilarious abuse for some sick perp ass, having been doing it to me for over ten years now. As in NOT.

Hotrod noise alternating with HD motorcycle noise now that I am back from working in the vineyard. A mixed weather day, with enough sun peaking through that I put sunblock on at noon, and still the assholes turned my face red by 1600h, as if it was burned some.

While I had my shorts on underneath my pants, it was too cold to change, so another day of extra clothing for no need, a bigtime perp setup/game. Underwear (recently given extra damage in the washing machine), shorts and pants are all black, so needless to say, I got plenty of black colored gangstalking vehicles on the way back, including a motorcycle that appeared from nowhere in front of me. It wouldn't be the first time the assholes have teleported a motorcycle at speed in my proximity.

On the highway leg, an over-width load of two 10' diam. x 4' deep fiberglass tubs was in the R. lane, so I pulled into the L. lane to avoid the slowdown. Just as I passed it an uber-cull pulled in from a side road at a too-close distance, and then an oncoming L. turning vehicle moved on encroach on my lane, moving behind the too-close vehicle. I slammed on my brakes, and my wonderful Pirelli P4 tires didn't slide (or was that the ABS brake system's doing?), and I wove around the encroaching oncoming L. turn vehicle one third into my lane, though it had stopped. So here the perps arranged two uber-stupid drivers, one intentionally visually obstructing the other temporarily, and forcing a near tire screeching stop in the freaking highway. Then the next traffic light was "somehow" knocked out and reverted to flashing yellow in all directions, with the usual idiot show following four-way stop rules. One vehicle stayed put for at least three cycles of vehicles coursing through the intersection, probably longer.

A day of cane tying, me and the neighbor's daughter who will be attending journalism school at the University of Chicago in September. Red hair, and why is it the perps like to arrange red haired individuals as a member one one of the Unfavored demographic groups? Some abductees have encountered aliens with red hair, so who knows if I have subconscious traumatization experiences-associations during the memory deleted years, aged 2 to 5 y.o.?  [Cue two motorcycles tem seconds apart heard through earmuffs as I type this up].

Heavy motorcycle and hot rod noise tonight, about 4/min. and especially prevalent while sharpening my hand pruners with carbide, then the diamond files. I don't know what the perps' insane obsession over sharpening, filing, cutting with a knife or blade and the rest of their ongoing interest in such matters. Humans have been cutting each other in battle and surgery for a millenia, we eat meats from slaughtered animals and the rest of it, and here they are hounding my ass each time I make pruning cuts (all day for the last four weeks almost, especially when using a just-honed pruner).

Back in 2003 they didn't like my carbon steel 9" chef's knife which could leach rust if left wet and unattended so they changed the composition of the steel in situ (in place, in the kitchen) over a week or so, so now it is a different kind of steel. I suspect if I swallowed iron filings that would really screw them up, all that iron oxide coursing through me while they play their magnetic bombardment and harassment games on me. I haven't been able to find any iron powder on the internet that is available in Canada, and I am not sure I would eat iron anyway.

A two day weekend, something I not familiar with when working on farms, though viticulture is a little more scheduled.

Shopping first, then vehicle cleaning, using a commercial vehicle washing center, and then vacuuming out the vehicle. I suppose the big deal for the perps was that the foam from the cleaning brush was pink colored, and of course I cleaned the whole vehicle with it. Then I rinsed it, and then to the vacuum cleaners to get the debris in the vehicle cleaned up. Endless gangstalking today, for these exciting perp moments, me driving around in a just cleaned vehicle. Up to mid-2006 I had my Volvo, and the perps were all over me after it was cleaned in the same manner. Though they only had me use pink foam only once in the then four years of insane abuse. Many more red colored vehicles out now, often leading or embedded with grey-scale colored vehicles, white, black, grey and silver grey. And the staff of a well known Canadian hardware chain store whose employees wear red shirts was also all over me when getting car cleaning supplies. Plus, older men in baggy shorts below the knee were out in force too; I don't know what is driving this particular demographic group or dress habit. Worse yet, most of these fugly shorts acts were plaid fabric. Sometimes I wonder if even weaving and clothing trends aren't perp directed as they like me to be around weaving activity, and plaid is a perfect excuse to vary the colors in both the warp and the weft directions of a fabric. My perp abetting mother still does a bit of weaving, though not as much as she did. She was a knitter before that, likely another perp abetting activity, especially with plastic knitting needles. The interaction of humans with various plastics is also very much a perp experimentation imperative, and I suppose starting today with a new razor insert, (read teflon rub strip), and that I did a full frontal shave plus arms was all the more attractive for the perps to send in additional gangstgalkers this morning.

There were a few younger dudes on the gangstalking too; doing back and forths and one walking toward me looking back as he was talking to his buddy, and then stopping and turning back. These "walk at me" games have been going on a long time, and one way they use to reduce the threat level is to have the gangstalking asshole invade my personal space but looking elsewhere, pretending to be oblivious. I was spared the jab in the ass from a plaid shorted Fuckwit in the adjacent checkout, as it "happened" when canoe paddle (4' long, wood) bearing Fuckwit pretended to be oblivious and jabbed the customer in front of me with the paddle end. Like WTF; what moron swings 4' long paddles, or 4' anything, around in confined quarters, holding them horizontally? I think they must know that keeping me just short of outrage as permanent state of this criminal Fuckover abuse isn't to be triffled with in public. But one never knows, as the checkout/financial transaction gangstalking has been a constant, and pulling an enragement stunt might just be their next Fuckover move.

Three hours waxing and car cleaning, plus going to the cleaning place and doing another round of vacuuming inside, as the seats move far forward and more debris is accessible to the vacuum cleaner than yesterday

I used a mid-blue cotton cloth, a former T-shirt to apply the wax and then another one to buff it. No wonder the sick-assed perp gangstalkers were all over me when I took it for a drive afterwards. I was dispatched to look for tool belts, part of my upgrade to my new schtick as a vineyard laborer, a 6 month M-F gig and the most regular work the assholes have allowed me since 2002. Things are changing on the abuse front, to be sure. The Men From Plaid the theme of the gangstalker show today, and too, add in Large Gutted and with Baggy Shorts, such as; The Large Gutted Men From Plaid in Baggy Shorts, aka Gangtalkers of the Fourth Reich, or the Psychopathic Confederacy.

Just insane amounts of HD motorcycle noise today, and even more when I was on the nearby beach getting some tan time this Sunday. What are they all doing here as there is no biker club around, and most are too yuppified to be part of that ilk. Then the hotrod muffler noises also are added in, more in the evening for some reason. Said muffler noise can come from any vehicle, including the plethora of pickup trucks that are the vehicular gangstalker's first choice. The even added a speed boat with a hotrod muffler sound.

Anothe stunt they pulled while toasting myself on the light brown sand was to surround me with red plasma spots at each direction I looked, and I had to finally close my eyes to end this particular fucking abuse. If I don't like the color red, why is it a ten year long insane and relentless ordeal of abuse, conventional and unconventional?

The assholes even ran a motorcycle underneath this apartment unit last night, scaring the shit out of me. Some of the rooms sit over the parking lot portal at this motel, the perfect situation to obtain more juxtapositions of motorized vehicles in and around me.

A screaming match with the perps over my email linking to this blog account. The assholes wouldn't let me change the supplied Gmail account, blocking the select/cut action of Windows for a couple of rounds. All I want to do is to get this written up and posted, and it was obstructed for a good ten minutes. Recall that a GMail account creation was blocked for at least a year, as they kept failing me on the anti-spam word test. I even had it verbally, and still they wouldn't let me create an account. Then when getting the cell phone, the store assistant created one for me no problem.

And a few screaming matches with the perps over the import of contacts into GMail. First from the Palm Vcard file I had, and then from the Yahoo mail account I have. I don't know how I got into GMail yesterday, but for the last two weeks they kept blocking me and inserting the Yahoo account and not letting me change it. All too curious, this fucking insane obstruction over creation of contacts in Yahoo, then exporting it to GMail, and even more of it tonight when I wanted to update one. Doesn't GMail confirm that it saved some information when editing, and then exiting. Not good enough, or else I have a custom obstructed GMail account.

Today and yesterday, the perps are going extra beserk over contrails in the sky. They had seven arranged in one direction while I was having lunch. Yesterday, while sun-tanning on the beach in the afternoon, they had one contrail turn a deep red color for two seconds or so, a section of it, not all of it. Just to tell me they were thinking of me, and to correlated to a similar deep red colored private aircraft, a flying boat, that came low over the city, a half mile away.

Sunday, May 06, 2012

Lots of Rocks

A busy day with the owner of the vineyard arriving and demanding that certain landscaping items be attended over cane tying. So I worked under his direction with my commuting and classmate pal, doing rock raking and shovelling for some five hours. The owner did appreciate our diligent efforts and the clean up job completion. No wine though. And lo, this evening while watching the hockey game,  the same noises of rolling and clattering rocks wasn't slipped into the sound feed. I turned the sound off once I was allowed in on this trivial fuckery.

A single helicopter morning; a slow and low yellow and blue one that I later see at the Penticton airport when returned that afternoon.

In the vineyard, it was cane tying, but worked shorter hours to yet again, attempt to get reliable internet access. I was exceedingly pissed that the motel where I stay had a dysfunctional wifi again, as it was working fine the evening and day before, and even allowed me to get my income tax return submitted online

Now, instead of the self locking (and vexing) Samsung Galaxy Note cell phone, that can serve as an internet connection for a PC, I got a Ovation USB modem/aerial that connects through the cell phone networks. Having a phone and a modem in one device was way too sabotage prone.
My online registration of my cellphone took three tries to login before I gave up, and this was conflated to five, and I was booted out of my carrier online login. Another example of what goes down for keeping me in constant vexation.

In the vineyard, a light off-on rain with low cloud. I ended up in all black clothing; toque, raincoat, work pants, socks, and light blue undershirt under a navy blue sweater. We placed trellis wires all day, moving the tucking wires out of the way, one below the fruiting wire, two at the top of the top of the post.

Two mid-grey helicopters in close formation flew past this morning, in low cloud conditions, following the sirens of 20 min. earlier. No identifying marks or insignia on them, and it was most odd that they had permission to fly so low and in clouded conditions where fixed wing aircraft wouldn't fly. As indicated in past blogs, the arrival of helicopters is often, sometimes sitting only 100' overhead and doing apparently nothing, other times the regular commercial scheduled flights just "happen" to be going overhead. The all time obvious instance when last year at the food crop farm, when I was cycled from outside field pumpkins to carrot bagging inside twice, and at one point of exiting the building, why an orange helicopter was loitering overhead. (We are talking about orange crops as the theme).

A haircut appointment first thing, as no one is answering the phone. And when making the appointment in person, the gangstalker dudes decend, one ahead, one behind. The one ahead was wearing a do rag on his head for crissakes, and making a haircut appointment, getting ahead of me by seconds.

On the way to the interview, the perps also scrambled me, as I got lost on a single road, though no street signs didn't help, let alone the instructions I was given at first. All this seemingly arranged to have me make my first call on my new cellphone to get instructions, but at first, I was out of range. All to have me retrace my path, and have me make a phone call when in kine of sight (80m or so) of the person inside the house recieving my call. Exciting times in perpville; dumshit games with cell phones.

A job interview was relatively normal this time, though he was over-acting some, as in hamming it up with such stock questions. When he asked me why I got into farming work I said there were imposed conditions that would not allow me to continue. And did he ask any further, wanting to know why some citizens have their rights stripped from them by insane psychopathic juveniles? Why no, of course, because this is what every other inquirer does, including the reporter from the New York Times with whom I conveyed my story to so she could do a hit piece on TI's.

A rain squall and dark clouds to "join me" on the ride back after the job offer. Vehicular gangstalkers all over me afterward when I do shopping. IN Windows, long hacked, the cut and paste fuckery continues  online as I attempt to get a case protection for my new 4G phone. The mouse is corrupted and run to drop the selection, to obtain only part of the selection, to copy the wrong thing altogether, to copy too much and any other variations of mouse selection one can imagine.

And in the afternoon, beauty treatment time; haircut and then legs waxed, the latter taking 1.25 hours, a student training school. a yellow-cream colored wax this time, and to no surprise, the same colored vehicle on the way home. And too, the ambulance with flashing red and white lights to aiding the cause by having them parking on the wrong side of the road, facing the R. lane I was driving in. Nothing new there, the perps go extra skitzy (double entendre) after haircuts and body treatments. All those folk touching and fussing in close is a made-for-perp gangstalking event. Why else would I be doing it, now with a never-before vanity streak? And who else would of arranged those red vehicles to be in view through the windows while I was getting my hair cut? And copper colored fabric curtains on three sides (privacy curtain) while I was getting my legs waxed? Who else hounds me with copper colored vehicles so often?

The perps got me "ready" before going out by infuriating me with a classic obstruction stunt; I am ordering accessories for my new phone, and get them added to the shopping cart and for "some reason" the payment page was totally skipped, so at the final "Submit" button, I get an error message saying I hadn't paid. True, but how was it that the page wasn't even presented to me in the first place? Then when entering payment details it bombed out on another unknown error, and it did it once more, and I gave up, stinking infuriated. But as the perps have been pulling this transaction obstruction stunt for ten years, plus all those time it "happened" before, what is so freaking important about me making a financial transaction that they put me through this insane, juvenile, beserk fuckery?

It is all confirmed now; new vineyard employer in three days (Monday) while I finish up with the current one who was to replace me with Mexican foreign workers in two weeks. (I knew that going in for this short term gig, and I don't resent this particular circumstance). Though I am miffed at the many vineyards that advertise for needing vineyard workers Jan. through Mar. when they have no intention of hiring any. This is just a ruse to declare a shortage of local workers (by not replying) to then rationalize them arranging Mexican laborers on a 8 month visa. So in other words, it isn't even competion for locals, as the contracts for Mexican workers are arranged from Nov. in the prior year to Feb. of the current year. Though I sense the deep hand of the perps in this, as they are obsessed over food handling and processing, and skin color has something to do with their covert energetic research games.

After three days of blocking my login to register my phone, the perps finally let me in on the problem, and lo, if their system isn't suddenly unavailable.

Then my internet connection goes down just seconds before I send an email, and the connection indicates that it was dropped. I go to the box and reconnect, and after a minute of blundering around, Yahoo sends my email message. Funny how this keeps "happening". Only last week an email got intercepted and not sent to this same person.

At present, evening time, excessive and horrendous pounding from running kids outside this room, plus their yelling and carrying on unsupervised at this motel. This particular noise arranged while I do entry of my financial transactions in Quicken, always of intense perp interest.

At work in the vineyard today, it was more lifting trellis wires, to get them positioned prior to new leaf and shoot development. At least 10 B52 overflights today, back from a day off and working this Saturday. Plus motorcycle noise, at least 20 in one group, and do I loathe HD motorcycle noise big time, and why is it that someone arranges much more of it than normal?

A day off, and full of noise parading outside. That is hotrods, harley davidson motorcycle noise, plus the odd vehicle with no muffler at all. The perps have been very consistent in delivering this noisescape over the years. As it is a Sunday, they backed off the commercial heavy duty vehicle, but the odd souped-up pickup truck fills the bill. This was my last day at this vineyard before I start a new gig.

Finally allowed to do all of April financial reconciliation on Quicken, manually. Quicken is such klutzware, and the banks don't help much either, as they could provide the same software and no need to manually reconcile the two. Sure, Quicken can download it, but it becomes clobberware, wiping out existing transactions and renaming the payees according to the cryptic bank name. Besides, I have the perps on my ass at every keystroke to infuriate me as they piss with the dates and transactions as shown on the display, changing them when I flip between the two. And for today, about  6 to 10 Harley Davidson motorcycle noises per minute, especially when screaming at the assholes for pissing with the page content while I wasn't looking. I got so pissed off that I had to print the page and it seems they can jack with that dynamically in realtime too.

Some five emails sent out for room share/apartment inquiries, and not a one of them has replied. Back to the phone method again. In other words, a whole day off wasted when I could of been looking at places to rent, and the assholes kept them from me, assuming I wasn't blocked when I sent them. All part of the FUD-scape.

Later now, one respondent about room rentals, and I had a look at it. Ok and all that, but how will the harassment play out? At this point, any relief from all day long Harley Davidson motorcycle noise and throaty hot-rod noise is a welcome relief. Now, a car alarm starts up. These noises are slowly getting less, but what is it that brings them out all day long, three weekends in succession? I suspect it won't change except to get worse until this town closes down, post Labor Day.