Saturday, July 14, 2012

Beach Day

Yoga and then off to the beach, though they dithered me severely when collecting my things to take there. The over-done tattoo woman at yoga was placed behind me and lightly off to the right so they could arrange in-mirror glimpses of her disgusting tattoos down her full arm and onto her shoulder. Another Unfavored feature the perps like to put on for my visual input. Only six other students when there was double that number last week. The woman in front of me at the cash desk had a large tattoo on the back of her neck for me to see. Last week they even put on a tattoo-emulation act; a woman in a flesh pink shirt with dark blue blobs and lines on it, like tattoos, but with a regular pattern. And so it goes, all these fucking games over the fact that I don't care for tattoos one bit, and likely have subconscious abreactions to them. Not my problem, so why am I the centerpiece victim of this relentless abusive insanity that has gone on 24/365 for ten years? Fill in the blank for the full list of Unfavored features and demographic groups, as it has been nothing but consistent.

The beach proved to be nothing much, and when I thought the sign said no dogs, why, there was three of them off-leash cavorting around and then the coup de gras, shaking their fur coat next to me and all over my book, darkening the page in streaks until it dried. And given that the perps just love to add water splatter to something I have been looking at or near me, and the color difference it confers, one can be sure that this was no fluke either. And that the book dried out over the next ten minutes in the blazing sun, changing from the darker wet color back to normal page color is just too exciting for the perps. Conversely, the gradual color change of steeping tea brings on a lot more coordinated noise and disruption. Now it is back to rooibus tea, the reddish kind they had me on about two years ago for two months or so.

A negro tailed me out of the parking lot, in his same mid-grey colored Honda pickup truck. Pardon my ignorance, but why would a negro be at the beach anyhow? It might of been the same one lollygagging outside the hair-wax salon yesterday, and not of the threesome that were inside for most of the time I was there.

And the perps have modified my own native thermo-regulation it seems. I would ordinarily wither at 30C degrees, but with their meddling, they have made me more tolerant of higher temperatures (32C here today, measured in the shade). It seems that if they wanted me to work in grape growing/viticulture as I am currently doing, it makes sense. For the most part though, the perps have been malevolent in making changes to me; keeping me at 195lb when I cut my food intake by half in 2007 won't go unpunished, should I get the opportunity if can get even with them.

I suppose looking mid-30ish at most, instead of 58 y.o could be considered a positive modification when they applied it in early 2004. That is, age regression, something they can do with relative ease, as well as morphing facial features and speaking tones and accents. No matter, if it is a prison planet I just "happen" to know it more than most as I am reminded every instant with forced typo errors ( after 35 years of keyboarding), constant maser dots. fuzzy balls and streaks floating in my vision, flashes of light, incessant noise and continued adversity at every turn, even for operating a light switch or turning a page in a book.

But as the new roomie is busy propping plastic bags here and there in the kitchen, arranging them to land beside the kettle having just used it, moving in on me at the sink with brown coffee or red cherries and the like, I can be sure that the perps are onto a new schtick, as they have kept me living alone for the last ten years, and at least three before that.

A near all sunny day in the vineyard, and back to the thining, lateral removals and the odd leaf plucking so we can see into the foliage to find laterals. These are this year's buds that have re-sprouted and present a yet more foliar growth, albeit unwanted. It is much the same as tomatoes, those so called "suckers" that occur at the axil (junction) of leaf-stem. One short row took me 3.5 hours this morning, and I got another one done afterward. Slow going to say the least, the worst is trying to find the laterals, and evaluating the growth habit of each shoot. And there might be 20 to 40 shoots per plant. We pruned to 24 buds primary buds per plant, but secondary and tertiary buds will also burst forth (aka, flush).

And the propane cannons have started up in adjacent orchards next to the vineyard. And lo, if the cannot doesn't go off when I switch attention, dispell a planted thought, or otherwise parry or equivocate or agree with planted thoughts. We have a long way to go, as the crop is picked in late October.

A thunderstorm as I write this, the dark clouds seem to be a perp favorite, as it is about the same grey as my vehicle. A lightening flash in this room as I pressed the "Submit" button to deal with my cell phone plan wretchedness/baffle-choices. Finally, I gave up on navigating through the rate plan changes and the warning of incurring device charges if I change the rate, and more unattainable conditions when I try to add extra data per month for these very data hungry so-called smart phones. Most of the 39Mb was due to getting a music player on that took FLAC files, and the various other attempts prior to that.

The thunderstorm went into the night, and as bedtime is early, it was still going then.

red games- Rita on the deck viewable through the window for whatever reason

hot out on the vineyard, but managed OK.

thining, laterals removed, de-suckered yet again.

hedging; electric shears fucking up, then the generator start, then the AC plug connection

toilet overflow

phone fucked; not charged the night before, no charger taken to work, added a voice mail on top[ to crank the angst some more. no good habit goes unsabotaged. from the same assholes who deliver on "no good deed goes unpunished"

four more mosquito bites on my R side neck, identical location for three bites yesterday

also, the latest is to have me start an email and then when I look up I see that nothing was typed in the box or dialog space, they simply made the cursor go away. Sams with an order online; they flipped me to a prior screen when I was filling in my credit card, so I had to re-type all the preceding detail again as it didn't come back. What is the point of having me type into a space and then fucking me so none of it shows up when they next let me look up to the screen to see nothing of what I typed.

day of hedging the vines

sucked into "thinking" last Wednesday was a 20% off day, when it was the week before. It seems the email flyer, speaking with roomies and the rest of the event was totally scripted to be the wrong fucking day altogether. I find this out only today when taking the bill back in and the cashier checked the date and is was July 04, not June 27. A major supported jerkaround to fool me into "thinking" it was a 20% off Wednesday.

toilet plugging stunt, and then the landlady crisscrossing my path when I was cleaning it out, she timing her shower just when I wanted to go in. Like WTF; she is living downstairs with a shower down there, so why did she need to use the bathroom on top of me?

via email, after two phone conversations about setting up a dental appointment for Aug 02 in Victoria BC, I later learn that the dentist won't be in. Like WTF; they have themselves planned out for a year or more, and the dentist was said to be availible to do the fillings she tagged me with (an estimate) as I was about to go, not mentioning anything when I was in the chair getting my teeth cleaned in April. Then the next day, poof, the dentist is not availible.

And said dental receptionist phoned me when I was in my vehicle in a 60kph section, and I was doing the speed limit, when this dude in a big truck passes me on a hill. Like WTF; I was doing the speed limit, and no one passes there because one cannot see anything coming. Anyhow, an exciting moment for the perps, as it is illegal to use a cell phone in ones vehicle except for hands off communication devices. As I get no more than four to siz x calls per week, this must of been a major set-up for whatever perp reasons there are.

back to toil among the vines, getting the laterals plucked out, minor thining of shoots, and now leaf plucking. It is laborious and takes a day to do a row; perfect music player work. Except that the perps decided to run the aircraft at a lower elevation so they could be heard at the correct volume through the headphones. One was a small private jet, having done at least two prior passes overhead in the last few weeks, and is a rare bird to be in this town.

Three weeks of finally getting through to an automotive accessories supplied finally ended. A phone call, without being put on hold. All my web purchase attempts blew up on the final page, and their support personnel contended it was fixed when it wasn't. The online attempts ended finally when their systems support sent me a questionaire about the service level, and I sent it back detailing my woe. I even wrote in, "past caring that any fix will be undertaken" and never heard a peep from them. Funny how they put some organizations through a faux apology show, while others are allowed to drop contact altogether.

music on android phone, headphone on, and lo, if the same bizjet doesn't do a low pass overhead, ensuring that the same noise volume from the same source reaches my ears (as background noise coming through the headphones) while listening to music. Some kind of noise-music correlation to noise source going on it would seem.

Saturday, and in the vineyard, no working today, per regular schedule. On with laundry and then a forced "forget" about it for at least 1.5 hours. I was online in the meantime, and had the Android phone playing music, and then it suddenly crashed, telling me emergency calls only. Like WTF; the battery was fine (the usual exploitation and sabotage excuse), the Telus network was fine (was online with same network), and so the timing of events seemed so curious. The Beatles (all #1 hits) had just finished playing on the Android phone, the Bill Hilly Band had only played for a minute or less, when the phone crashed bigtime. So... maybe those Beatles tunes had something in them, and they wanted to force me out of my chair to the kitchen where the raw foodist was making a barch of kale, watermelon and mango juice, (totally delicious as she offered me a sample) and have more interpersonal contact/engagement while putting my laundry in the dryer, and consuming the said blender drink. The moment was also marked by the landlady walking around in the backyard 40' away while on her cell phone, the typical EMF event stalking I have come to know and loathe the sight of, these ten years of abuse and harassment. The landlady isn't the dumbshit she makes herself out to me, with these sudden eruptions of perp abetting activity a key perp reserarch moments. (Above mentioned crisscrossing my path and shower event as another example).

I am still on "shit refugee" status; another trip to the mall brought a phalanx of red colored vehicles to lead and tail me there. My 6-wide dude escort in the parking lot was all wearing their oversized shorts to ensure they looked stupid, and the fat folks at the food area seemed so arranged. And too, they had me bleed in the toilet paper, keeping up the red color exposures. Afterwards, the LD store beckoned as I was out of chocolate, and the expensive skin cream they like me to get. My red shirted tail was on my ass for two aisles, then the brown skinned woman took over to engage in two reprise stalkings, and finally "ending up" ahead of me at the cashier. She made sure to tarry and putz around at the checkout after she had paid and got her handbag together as well. Protracted activity ahead of me at checkouts is nothing new these last ten years of concerted harassment fuckery. As is every financial transaction I make, even writing out a check and mailing it. And so it goes, another day in fucking hell.

Then having empited my briefcase to take to the sewing shop, and somehow missing it while knowing its address and the street block I was in, I found out they were closed Saturdays. Nice of them to mention it (NOT) when I spoke with them on the phone. The Andiamo briefcase has been very useful, especially in the days of having an office job when I first bought it in Lynnwood WA in 1999. When the abuse started up in 04-2002 one of the first things they sabotaged was to destroy the D ring so it could not be slung on my shoulder. It sent to Andiamo and I bought a substitute bag that was nowhere near as good. Plus, the perps used this as an excuse to scramble my head while attempting to recall where all the items were stored in the bag. I had never had any problem remembering where all my items where in the Andiamo briefcase, so why this sudden recall lapse when the same items were in a different bag with slightly different configuration. But as this was the time the assholes forced me into hospital with the aid of my then-thought friends, they seemed to want me to have the same belongings in this substitue bag. Later, during this episode, an E. Indian "patient" stole the bag and other clothesuntil I complained to the nurse and she retrieved nearly all of it for me.

And so this storied briefcase saga continues; I never had much use for it for (non-office job years) since then (12-2002) until 2010 when I took Oracle 11g upgrade courses, 2x/week. I had my freaks and wierds on the bus of course, and at the start of classes the main zipper "failed" at one corner. It was a two-way zipper so I used the other side only, as two thirds zipper coverage remained. And now in 01-2012 I am about to begin more schooling, this time in viticulture, and lo, if the other zipper doesn't blow before the first class, leaving me to use an ersatz bulldog clip to hold it closed. And now, some three months after the course, I am now allowed to attend to getting it fixed, closed-store Saturdays aside.

But even getting this far was an accomplishment; when I moved into this roomie house I asked the landlady if there was an industrial sewing shop in town. She gave me the phone number of her friend who had started up a with an industrial sewing machine, and I left a message. Three weeks later I hadn't heard and I phoned again, and I was told the person had spoken to my landlady to say they did not have an industrial sewing machine, and to try XYZ. Like WTF; the landlady had the premise exactly wrong (disinformation) and then didn't tell me that it wasn't doable (information obstruction). Not bad for an apparent klutz that I am begining to suspect might be much more steeped in this bullshit than the average bozo-klutz act. And so it goes, this time over a briefcase they like to sabotage, this being the second round in over ten years. And if you can exptrapolate the above briefcase sabotage to nearly all one's possessions, you get the idea as to how invasive, abusive and relentless this insane human nonconsensual human experimentation goes on a daily basis.

A dull day for the remainder, (after a morning shopping trip), being kept inside mostly. I was game for getting tourist advice on hiking areas, but somehow, I "forgot" until I was driving past the tourist bureau and turning around was deemed to complicated. The perps just love to arrange scenarios and then have me "forget" (read, remotely dithered recall), only to see the object of recall too late. These arranged "forgets and too late reminders" are arranged at least 20x/day, a whole new never-before memory degradation they like to put me through. Onto posting this.

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