Saturday, August 25, 2012

Which Creme Where?

Sunday, and nine hours sleep after yesterday's five hour mega-nap attack. Off to yoga with a very different instructor this time; 50's y.o., and a big belly and ass. She was more like a poet-schoolteacher, inflecting certain words with more tone than others, as if reading a poem or fiction out loud. Her significant bulges were too much to look at for the most part. but she was quite verbal and gave good instructions. A break from the younger female instructors at the yoga center, though some of them were quite beefy too.

Only five other students in the yoga class, the most obvious was the 220lb 50's balding male in a red shirt and black capri short/pants (whatever they are, to mid calf). That the capris were baggy at the mid-calf made him look all the more ridiculous, and he wasn't planted there for his yoga skills, as he couldn't do many poses. And the perps backed off on the tattooed freaks as well, I was getting at least two per class and today there were none.

I got plenty of sideways pushes from the perps when doing balance (one one leg) poses. They had backed off after five years of these particular harassment methods, but only for a class or two, and now they are back at it, wobbling me over on every balance pose. It is just fucking insane that I am not allowed to do a yogs balance pose for over five years because of insane and relentless intrusion by deranged juveniles of the Fourth Reich. Whoever thought the Hitler Youth were disbanded?

And I got screwed around for a later start to go hiking, as I tried to get a map offline and lo, if the site was unavailable, and no other web sites seemed to have one. And lo, if they didn't screw me out of going to the tourist bureau not far away, as these planted "forgets" are becoming more frequent of late.  So, with trails all over the place navigating Skaha Bluffs Park was more dubious, all in keeping the FUD going it seems.

And so, like last week, I find a rock surface to tan on, and I apply tan intensifier to the front of my legs, and sunblock to my face. Tanning while working at a vineyard means that the back of one gets tanned, while the front, facing the vines, gets limited tanning. The idea for today's tanning was to even up the tanning. And after ten minutes or so, the perps placed a cloud in front of the sun, and it grew larger, meaning that tanning time was over. The whole objective from the perp perspective would seem to be to have me freshly cremed up, as mentioned above, and then to get me hiking again, and passing by the four or more parties that "happened" to be enroute. The perps get no end of harassment-research mileage over me using cremes, lotions and the like, and it would seem this is a rare example of two cremes that were applied one after the other. Normally, they like to space creme applications out by hours. And I have no idea why they needed to sent me to a local forested park to do this instead of at the beach.

Pruning out selected fruit that has powery mildew on the vineyard. My entire day, and the last week or more have been spent on this diversion. No one can do mold and fungi infestations better than the perps, so who knows what really happened.

And the helicopter treatment at lunch time; at least six flybys of one that had pontoons on and made a 180 degree turn opposite the vineyard, all to do it again and again. And too, it first erupted when I was in the vineyard, then sitting at lunch, and then when taking the Kubota RTV to pick up buckets of infected fruit  that were remaining from last week.

Plus another helicopter pass when I stopped the RTV and picked a peach from the peach tree; it is getting ripe and no one is picking it. Ditto for the apples, and the cherries a month ago. I suppose it is great for perp research purposes; from the tree into me, not going through any picker, equipment, handling, packaging and bagging. High moments in perp research indeed. And I am sure they know where the water sources came from; rain, the storage tank, creek or lake. All important variables for the perps I have come to know firsthand. Just to think, I have had fresh tree fruit from many properties all my life, as have orchardists consuming their own fruit over the millenia, and here we are, still putzing with these variables while relentlessly life-raping this victim over their monolithic research topic (effects of water source on food energetics, and then victim energetics). They still won't let me eat eggs, now a near ten year dietary restriction, but they will let me eat the odd peach. Lucky me.

I sharpened my Felco pruners with diamond hones yesterday, another all-important perp research topic; methods and sources of sharpening edges and its effects on the plant energetics. Like I care; they are sharp and therefore work. Last week they had me doing carpentry jobs and plant transplanting while my just-hone pruners were unused for the day. More excitement on the perp research front. As in yawn.

More helicopter coverage at dinner time, just as I stepped outside onto the deck. Only 200' above ground, and 300' away, two EC-120 fantails in formation, one white and red, the other white and green, same model of helicopter. Presumably both coming into land at the airport. That makes at least five of this model that have "passed by" since April. Two black colored ones in formation one day, and then a third black one that this a toy for a recent ex-vineyard owner. They are very distictive, though I have not seen one up close.

Another fine day for helicopter coverage. They put the Bell 429 on today, then a Bell 206 and the white and green EC-120 on when driving back. Not as hot today, and the sun coming on just before lunch to draw me into changing into my shorts. And then drawing me into applying sunblock on my face and tan intensifier on the back of my thighs (calves are very brown) and have me do more leaf removal work. The sun felt nice and seemed to be tanning me in the right places for all of 20 minutes, and then the clouds rolled in, and stayed to obscure the direct sunlight for the remainder of the afternoon. I was also shirtless, but as it was warm, I didn't need to change into anything.

One can tell that the perps seem to be on a creme application and skin reaction-to-direct sunlight research quest, and like to limit the time of exposure to relatively small durations, today, and the 08-19-2012 posting above. Whether it is the plastic tubes that these products come in, and of course their respective color, or skin to sunlight reaction or what, I cannot tell. Notice that sunblock and tan intensifier are effective opposites; one blocks UV rays, the intensifier allows the sun to "wake up" the skin cells sooner and make melatonin. Ten years of sustained and relentless abuse at the hands of the undeclared heirs of the Third Reich, and here we are putzing around with skin creme and sunlight exposure effects and the net outcome as it affects skin and melatonin production. And likely Vitamin D production too. I think this abuse/research prerogative has another ten years to go.

A thunderstorm is brewing as I write this; the perps had me "forget" my cell phone at the vineyard, and it was charging after they screwed me out of charging it last night due to an unusual battery depletion. They cannot leave any habit, e.g. charging the cell phone each night, unfucked or undisrupted. They must screw me out of every sensible habit I have.

More helicopter coverage at prime perp research moments: a Bell 206 came over as the first direct sunshine falls on me at about 0730h while in the vineyard, thining out bad fruit. Later in the morning, about 1000h, the same helicopter was headed in the opposite direction while I was taking my shirt off for some tanning time. As regular readers will know, the colors of my clothing (an of others'), and their placement or removal, are under intense investigation, and noisestalking me with helicopters at these key moments is just the latest in the perp noise-object stalking in my kept state.

And I got shitted again while working in the vineyard, that greasy sensation in my ass slowly that creeps up. I go to take my break and to change into shorts, and lo, if they didn't plaster shit on my underwear and my pants. Then a sudden need to take a crap, and of course they block the toilet too. There was no one else in the house or on the property, so I got to clean up by taking a shower. But as it "happened" they also flicked shit on the floor and garbage can (vertical surface) and that had to be cleaned up too. I change into the shorts (no option) and go upstairs to get a plastic bag for the, ahem, soiled items. Then I get the One-Second Plumber gas and seal and apply it to the toilet. But lo, if it isn't out of gas, so I have to install a new cartridge to the seal and handle, and apply it to to then unblock the toilet. I work for the rest of the day in shorts, and also wear them home, something I don't ordinarily do.

The owners arrived back soon after the shit event, something I predicted. And as it was a Thursday payday too, I wore my shorts to the ATM to deposit my pay after work. And as regular readers will know, financial transactions are a HUGE stalking/harassment event, so wearing shorts was also a big deal in these circumstances. I also took some cash out, and too, regular readers will know that the color and material contents of my wallet is also of intense perp interest. 

Later in the evening, by invitation, I joined the vineyard owners and three of their friends for dinner at a nearby restaurant. I suppose getting me shitted in advance was part of the perps' food-color testing/research, but I digress.

I was treated to a bowel movement onset first thing after breakfast, so off to the local donut franchise for a no-hassle dump. But they were ready for me; a petroleum tanker with pup trailer, and a logging truck with a full load lined up, almost parked in file outside the shop. An ambulance outside too, when their station is a half block away. A dude swarm to hold me up from exiting the building momentarily. And lo, if I don't get extra brown gangstalking vehicles on my way to the vineyard.

No tanning allowed today on the vineyard, they even pulled a rain for 20 min. and at the right time to be my morning-time break so to cause me to get my raincoat from the vehicle. I put a sweater on for the rest of the morning. And lo, if it didn't stop raining when my break was done, so the raincoat went unworn, and sat outside on the bench for the rest of the day. Not forgetting that goretex (raincoat) is a teflon based fabric and that PFOA's, one of the most prevalent pollutants in making teflon, seems to present a particular problem for the perps. What they tell me is that these ubiquitous pollutants have unusual properties at the quantum level and that they cannot predict their energetic behaviour by remote means. Not my doing, or my problem, so why am I in the center of the most deranged and abusive campaign in human history, short of war or murder? Even some TI's seem to be involved if I read the body language right from two years ago when there was a local TI get-together.

Saturday, and the perps made sure I "forgot" this morning, causing me to think they screwed me out of setting the alarm for a work day when I awoke an hour later than normal. That panic lasted a minute or so before they let me in on the fact it was a Saturday, there was no work today, and that I had deliberately not set the alarm before going to bed. All part of the FUD-world that I am kept in.

And lo, if roomie stalker wasn't quietly residing in the bathroom when I got up and went to the kitchen. I started the kettle up, and that is when I heard her in the adjacent bathroom. All part of the concurrent water-use stalking that has been so rampant. She went back to bed and that is all I heard until she emerged again when I had temporarily vacated the kitchen due to a forced pee. My turn in the bathroom, and her turn in the kitchen, simultaneously using water again. And I got screwed into "forgetting" to get the tortillas out from the freezer, so I had to put the newly opened stack in the oven to thaw the first one off to use for breakfast. And when I re-entered the kitchen, why, there she was in front of the stove with its open oven door (obviously in use), for no seeming reason. As in hovering over top of where I was to go, aka, lead-ahead stalking. I attend to the particulars of applying coconut butter to the tortilla, adding some pink jam on top. (Did I ever mention the perps just love to have gangstalking and noisestalking going while I view color changes, e.g. steeping tea? At least 3x/week, not including traffic lights). Anyhow, she does her coffee-making in the Melita filter funnel (aka coffee-stalking), and lo, if she isn't back to the habit of leaving it in the sink and departing to her room, knowing I will be using the sink in a few minutes to do the dishes.  Two days ago she actually put the Melita filter funnel on a plate on the counter, but then resorted to the default beligerent practice of putting it the sink again. Which of course, what I am obliged to do, as it is in the way of cleaning the dishes. Imagine that, she took a month to figure out that there was a cooperative way to deal with her interim dishes, and then reverts to the beligerent state.

And as she doesn't have a day job, why is it she so successfully changes her get-up time to when I get up and am in the kitchen? My morning breakfast routine is 1.5 hours later than a weekday today, and lo, if she doesn't time her arrival to mine. So did the former roomie dude/stalker.

Sat. evening;
I spent most of the day with the Ironman entrant brother and his wife and child. The usual dissonant family gangstalking nonsense; walking single file, errant child gets admonished, extra loud ear-ringing noise, and the crowds doing their consistent wierdness; stepping into my path, the freakshow (aka, Unfavored -male bald heads are big today), and the arranged clothing and vehicle colors, (reds are big today).  A high gluten dinner with them, all to serve as a foil to blame foggy and groggy sensations tomorrow. And to keep the ear-ringing din up as well. My brother will be starting at 0700h, and does the course in 13 hours or so. A far cry from the 8 hour men champions, or the 9 hour women's leaders.

Other wierdness back at this shared house, with a pickup truck parked in mid-backyard, 10' from my laundry on the clothesline. One laundry item, a singlet, was on the door knob, and the landlady told me she picked it off the ground. Like WTF; someone shook the clothesline and had it jump off and then fucking left it there. Or else the perps jumped it off. The singlet had a grey stain that arrived on the back of it while it was being laundered yesterday. So I dump Shout on it and relaundered it today, and still the stain persisted. As regular readers will know, the perps are also obsessed over my laundry, and invariably in a single load, something needs to be re-laundered and specially cleaned.

Yesterday's laundry had three shirts on hangers, one being the above singlet, and I put clothespins on the line to stop them sliding together, keeping them spaced apart by 12" or so. So when I came by to gather the clothes off the clothes line, the three shirts were all together, with the separating clothespins still in place. So how did the three shirts end up crammed together on a clothesline which were separated by 12" with clothespins that did not move? I could see them getting crammed together if the separating clothespins slid along the line, and the garments ended up together, but that did not happen. So it would seem that some asshole moved my laundry along the clothesline, by either conventional means, or unconventional means. I don't care which, but just leave my fucking laundry alone.

Enough grumping over sabotage by the Juveniles of the Fourth Reich, and onto posting this.

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Popcorn Stalking

What is it about popcorn making, apart from the odious smell, that is so vital to the perp research quest? I was about to head to the kitchen and make tea, and lo, if the roomie-stalker didn't get in there ahead of me and make popcorn. This goes on at least three times/week and stinks the house up for a day or so. The ex, in the pre-overt abuse days, and a full abettor in the covert goings on, was also a popcorn maker, maybe two times per week. All that etheric perturbance maybe, as the corn pops and zings around in the machine before being dumped into the chute to the bowl. And the roomie-stalker is a foodie no less; top quality juicer and a blender, and once a raw foodist. So to add popcorn into the diet should be a total anathema. But who knows, she may not even eat it when it it taken to her room for consumption.

Not to mention the vile chemicals (plus another) in microwave popcorn that can cause lung damage. And lungs and breathing are also a major part of the perp research/abuse quest.

A busy day on the vineyard, except that I was detailed for landscape plant moving, deck teardown, rock placement, tractor cleaning etc. That is OK by me, varied jobs are fine, not to mention conversational company, something I don't normally get.

The Men From SMIRK (or should that be SMERK as take-off from SMERSH?), said "hello" (while wearing a smirk) to me while they were driving by at 0630h this morning. I had just left the curb to cross the road and their big black tinted glass GMC 4x4 Suburban started toward me from 200' away. I had my new Cover King sun shade in hand (highly reflective mylar finish to an insulating foam) as well as my pack and carry bag. I had crossed this suburban street with a 40' wide median in the middle to get to my vehicle parked under an adjacent tree. The sight of this vehicle, which has been seen at unusual times before, had me grumble to myself about the Gestapo, and that is exactly when the driver leaned out of the open window and said "hello". I said "hello" back, and he proceeded onward for 200' and then stopped in mid-street for no apparent reason, still visible by me getting into my vehicle. 

The perps are more "buzzy" today, perhaps the same meaning as "busy", except with me at center stage without my permission. Plenty of red shirts, baggy male shorts, legs and feet as viewed from the crapper cubicle. Three silver grey vehicle parked around mine at the mall, and more shiftless louts at the ATM, and a ponytail-male doing back and forths in the parking lot the whole time.

Just when I thought the shit games were over at work, after the two toilet blocking games of two weeks ago, the perps struck again. The "loose stool" stunt, and a forced shit to relieve it, and lo, if they didn't block the toilet too. None of the family was home, so I took a shower to clean up. And it was a mess, they even took out my shorts in addition to my underwear. Once cleaned up and wearing my pants, I had to unblock the toilet, and with added adversity as it didn't work the first time.

A concert last night, getting a good seat with a guy with a ponytail. We had lots of conversation about music, as he once played in a band. He drove all the way from Edmonton to here, Pentiction to catch Rory Block (956km, 12 hours of driving). And it was a good show, and worth catching up on a blues singer I didn't know much about. The perps had planted ideations about purchasing some of her CD's, but as it "happened" she had run out of them because of a bus mechanical problem. And what is it about Edmonton that the perps like to push onto me so often? Yes, I visited there a few times, but the city doesn't excite me, and I have no hankering to return. The esthetician of last week's leg waxing was from there as it "happened".

Another shit show at work; this time nowhere severe as yesterday, and with a stop at the mall to unload instead of yesterday's toilet blocking stunt at work. And the same post-work activity; meet the land-lady-to-be after work while my clothes are in the washing machine. The roomie stalker was ready for my arrival, sitting in her vehicle with the engine running and headlights on (me) while I pulled up ahead at the curb, and then staying there for about three minutes before following me in. Like WTF; who sits in their vehicle with the engine running for three minutes before they go inside the house? Only in Perpland.

08-17-2012, Friday
A day of picking diseased fruit from the grape vines, this week's work, and next week too. No shit games thankfully, and no need to stop at the mall.

Though the sickos did mess with my Android phone when playing music, and stopping it altogether so they could then stop me from what I was doing and fix it. The touch screen interface is a total sabotage bonanza as they will mess with it anytime. Yesterday, they had two songs playing at once on the Android player, which takes talent as the screen selection won't let one do this.

What is with the increase in vehicular road traffic lane encroachment games? I take a secondary highway to work, and about 20% of the vehicles are with their tires on the centerline, if not moreso. As in oncoming traffic in my lane. I always had 1% or so of oncoming road traffic pulling this stunt, but sudden increase in public driving behavior tells me that someone must of arranged this.

A Saturday, a day off from vineyard work, and the roomie water-use stalking; she in the bathroom concurrently while I was at the sink doing a pre-rinse, and again serially (jumping in ahead by request)  in the kitchen to fill a water bottle when I was about to clean the dishes. She could of filled the freaking transparent lime green water bottle at the bathroom, but no, had to disrupt me at the kitchen sink instead. The perps devote a huge amount of effort as to my water supply, and the various outlets like differing faucets and the disposition of the water; dishes cleaning, drinking, kettle use etc.

A concert last night; I got a free ticket but spent $30 on food and beer. A banjo player of considerable talent as well as an extremely verasitile player of multiple genres. Only one bluegrass song in his two set performance. Same deal on the CD's; they had run out of them from their previous performances on this road trip.

Just like Tuesday (08-14-2012, above, they seeded in fat folk around me, and then they had them access their smart phones too. It would seem that any LCD screen on any device offers some kind of color and/or energetics calibration measurement capabilities, as it is so consistently part of the perps' plan.

And the stinking popcorn smell in this place when I got back at 2230h last night after the show. And a two tone brown motorhome vehicle stalked me three times while driving a whole kilometer back last night.

And this morning I discover I didn't shave my mustache yesterday, which is exactly what "happened" the Tuesday (08-14-2012, above) when I went to the Rory Block concert. Or else, the mustache grew disproportionately to all the other facial hair, which is something the perps can do I came to know many years ago. They can grow, or place, a single 1/2" long hair exactly where one shaved just an hour beforehand. No facial or neck hairs ever get that long, and yet, there it was, discovered before I was headed out the door to an appointment. But as the perps keep me in FUD-land, I cannot recall exactly where I shaved on my face the day before. The odd time they make sure I recall to then demonstrate their Fuckover capabilities.

More toilet games, at a local business that opens early. I will spare the details, but it wasn't pretty. I am still a "shit refugee", and use public toilets wherever I can. The perps still block the one here at this shared house after the first week I moved in, and they block the one at work too. In the latter case they still enforce shit games by making the situation critical. Who knew I would be hounded over taking a crap for over ten years, with toilet blocking a 95% probability? A lot of folk must of known, including family, as they were party to the covert goings on until the perps went overt/beserk in 04-2002.

Above visit to the store was combined with a skunk or finding an item at the same store. The flyer indicated it would be there, and lo, after getting some help from the counter babe, they don't carry that line of closet organizers. So... a big toilet stunt and then a jerkaround stunt in not finding what I was looking for, aka, dashed expectations. And that is a huge deal for the perps, arranging needs and notions to acquire something, and then have me going to the store and not finding it. Usually replete with ambulatory gangstalkers milling about, some in the frozen pose position too.

On the dashed expectations over aquisition front, it was last month when visiting Victoria, and having a dinner with my farmer colleague (read, perp planted operative) for an hour or so, and then going next door to get scent-free tanning intensifier at my once regular tanning salon, and lo, if they didn't have it. (My farmer colleague was with me, and we went on to shop for clothes some blocks away afterward). On the last visit to Victoria I went to the same tanning salon and bought the intensifier, as it is hard to find and unavailible online in Canada. Funny how that "happens", and now makes things unavailible by country when they once championed themselves as border-free shopping.

A hair cut at 0915h; this is at a hair cutting school, so I get the student and then the instructor fussing around me. The chair was next to the window onto the street, and lo, if there wasn't a big dude with legs spread wide and bald head just sitting there on the brick ledge. He was gone once I came back from the hair washing station, almost as if the perps want me to see these mofo's as much as possible.

I move to a self contained suite in two weeks, and end this roomie-stalker scenario thankfully. It has got to the point of expecting the roomie stalker on top of me each time I use the kitchen or have dishes remaining in it while eating my food. The roomie-stalker has the unerring knack of inconveniently arriving just as I am eating my meal. Yesterday, they even arranged a stucco repair dude to stand over the location I normally would of sat at if he hadn;t nbeen hogging the space where I usually sit on the verandah. All to force me to eat dinner inside when I had regularly been eating outside for weeks. Said dude got to circumnavigate the house while I was having my dinner. HIgh times in Perpland, sending in the longaired dude to encircle me outside while I was dining inside.

A good thing I didn't have any plans today. I got fucked into a five hour nap starting at 1130h. This is the longest forced nap I have had to date, and there was no conventional reason for it. I never start naps before noon, and I am not sleep deprived. Someone didn't want me out and about on this hot, (32C) day it would seem. They figure I see enough sunshine in the week that they have to keep me inside for at least one day.

I move out of this shared house in two weeks, and of course I wasn't allowed to check out the toilet to see if was the low-flow, high-obstruction design that the perps so often like. And so it goes, keeping the FUD games going until I get to use it.

I will end this posting here, even if one more day of the weekend remains, as there has been plenty to report on.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Leaf Plucking

Leaf plucking is yet another technique to drive more flavor into grapes before harvest, and it also helps air flow through the canopy to keep the fungal diseases down, and conversely, permitting tractor borne spraying, a vital neccessity for grape growing, even for organic farms. So.. the E. Indian contract crew of three began this task as I left for five days for a First Feral Family visit on Aug. 01. And only the tall turbaned long bearded male E. Indian remains working the vineyard, as I am doing the same. The leaves from the most shaded side are pulled off in the grape leaf canopy in the fruiting zone. The exposed grape clusters get more airflow, and we can now see them developing. The ardent hope is that the birds don't discover them too. And plenty of propane cannon firings throughout the day from adjacent farms, and timed to me listening to music from my Android phone, often when I listen to a passage I haven't heard in over ten years. Or else when there is a some sabotage going on and they mash the music just a little to get my attention. Much of the harassment themes of late are to get my momentary attention while other voices are heard, or even when someone is speaking with me.

And the perps pulled a light rain this morning for some 20 min., but timed for my arrival in the vineyard and causing me to wear rain gear for the first hour or so. And as it "happens", this was laundered separately from all other clothing with a special detergent for goretex after it got drycleaned due to the grease from the trellis wire installation in the wet June. Regular readers will know how beserk the perps are about my laundry, the detergent, drying methods and what washing machine was used, along with the color of the inner tub and whatever else goes into it. And yes, way back when in a bush camp, I did laundering myself and hung the garments to dry. All these millenia of humans doing laundry, and here they are hounding my ass over all the particulars. Never mind the freaking stunts they pull like tissue paper blow-outs and other pocket contents that make a mess. I can always count on the First Feral Family house to have a kleenex blow-out in the washing machine, and true enough my mother came through by leaving something in her pockets. Some clothes were re-laundered, others were dried in the dryer, and some on the clothesline. Always a big deal for perp research in laundry. And my brother owns a commercial laundromat no less, and integrated a drycleaning and regular laundry operation under one roof.

The wretched roomie-stalker got up before I did at 0450h, boiled the kettle and made coffee in the Melita filter funnel. Read coffee-stalking yet again. And to add insult to injury, she leaves it in the sink with the spoon she used and then wanders off to her bedroom. Yet again, this totally rude stunt of placing an item in the sink and then going absent in full knowledge that I will deal with it in some way as I am going to be making breakfast and cleaning my dishes afterward. On top of that, she leaves no hot water in the kettle just to keep her asshole cred up. She knows I boil the kettle every weekday morning, and makes a point of getting up before me, which she rarely does, and then fills the kettle for her own large mug sized need, leaving none for me. Another go fuck yourself; I thought males were "naturally" rude like this, but as gangstalkers, females are just as rude.

Four sunny days in succession, with the high cloud coming over at noon, and limited sunshine while I wear my shorts after lunch. They want me to be tanning my back in the morning, but don't want much leg tanning it seems. If left unfettered or unfucked with, I would wear my shorts first thing, but somehow, such great evasions never come to mind at the time. By mid-afternoon I switched to the E-W rows, having finished up on the N-S rows, and then the sun came on, but it was filtered through the vine canopy as I was on the N. side of the row. This is a N side leaf plucking for the E-W rows, and a E side leaf plucking for the N-S rows. the leaves are left on the sunnier side to avoid sun scalding. It would seem that the perps want me to be highly tanned on my back. limited tanning on the back of my legs, and then limited tanning on my torso front. Go figure.

The bearded and turban E. Indian male was there again today, and he "happened" to find me as he was about to leave. Not that he has done in the past, and our respective positions were at least 80' apart and I wasn't making any noise either. But somehow, he found me about to start on my new E-W row at the opposite end to him. He doesn't know much English, but conveyed that he was leaving shortly as it was 1400h. Why he needed to tell me this is also a mystery. But as beards, turbans and strange pyjama clothing are all highly Unfavored sights, he must of been directed by someone to get more facetime in.

The E. Indian distinguished himself yesterday as being yet another rude asshole. He "happened" to be at the lunch table when I arrived at 1230h and so I had to go inside the house to the bathroom to change into my shorts. I had my boots off and was in my socks and had to step over his drinks or other liquids he flicked onto the ground in my path. Bad enough, but he had no idea I was to walk over it, right? And so when I retrace my steps after changing, why, the E. Indian had flicked yet more lunch liquids on the ground for me to walk over. Like WTF; we don't need any translation, and we have no cultural basis for being so fucking rude, but here it was. A totally beligerent act. And as the perps are so fucking beserk over drinking vessels, I would not be too surprised to have him try two or more out for their vessel energetics as well as vessel and liquid contents. And so yet another semi-regular person joins the pantheon of the Rude-Stalkers.

And what is with the lastest trend in these orchestrated circumstances of drinking out of a Mason jar? Something to do with the energetics of that particular glass source maybe? And by logical extension, separating the energetics of the glass from the drinking water compared to the population at large who would eat food from Mason jars.

Another day of leaf plucking, though I had to guide the E. Indian as to where to work, a baby-step in directing personnel, if that was what it was about. Then at day's end, the ominous sensations of needing to take a crap, so I stopped off at the mall with my crapping-stalkers around me. A cubicle each side of me became occupied in short order, and a buzz of traffic back and forth. My ambulatory stalkers, pre and post crap were out in force, especially oncomers attempting to make R. side passes. Then off to the ATM, and another cluster fuck there, as all financial transactions are stalked bigtime. A higher emphasis, maybe 10%, on brown colored vehicles around me, fore and aft when driving from the vineyard to the mall (pre-crap brownstalking in other words). And lo, if a Fedex delivery truck didn't pull in behind me too, and they being the couriers of brown colored boxes and packages. And so, another shit-stalking ends, still being a "shit-refugee", and having to go elsewhere due to concerted toilet blocking stunts at the vineyard (where I work) and where I live in a shared house. I am looking for my own place, but lo, if the rents didn't go up (it seems).

And more obvious vehicular gangstalking is making itself apparent. Yesterday, an oncoming vehicle (ubiquitous large pickup truck) pulls over, backs into a driveway, waits for me to pass by, and then pulls out behind me to tail me to my turn off (2KM of tailing). The joys of being at the crux of Gangstalk & Abuse Central.

A Saturday off, and leg and back waxing were first. Though, they did have a parade scheduled outside the spa college starting shortly after. On the way to the spa school the parade organizers somehow "forgot" to barricade the turn I took to end up on this emptied main street. But, the erstwhile traffic attendant came out on their motorcycle in my lane, coming at me, and then stopped to tell me I shouldn't be on the road and how to get off

Per "usual", there were problems at the cashier; the debit card failed and so I paid cash, while the person at the till kept looking at the parade outside, a useful diversion so that the  "lookaway" behavior wasn't as deranged seeming as it would of been otherwise.

Then back to the roomie house to have lunch, while studying an email from a too-good-to-be-true deal on an apartment rental. It was written in almost pidgin English, and then the notion that it was a scam floated (read, planted) into mind. After some consideration I thought that it was most likely, and then came on a need to sleep, and lo, if they didn't hit me with a 3.5 hour nap attack. And to get this clear, at no time the day before or at anytime in the previous week was I running a sleep deficit. There is no conventional reason to explain why a 3.5 hour nap "happened" on the middle of a Saturday afternoon.Also of related  interest, was that the sheets were off the bed, and drying on the clothesline, and so it would seem that someone wanted to test me sleeping without sheets or blanket.

Once recovered from the nap attack, the perps kept me in a bleary and annoyed state for the next few hours, attending to yet another "shit refugee" event at the mall. And it was no coincidence that there were brown cardboard box bearing gangstalkers circulating near me on the way in, and one of them reprised for my exit. And haven't we had brown featured people and/or their carried objects in the past for these refugee trips? Yes, almost everytime.

 Then onto getting the car cleaned, and lo, if the spot removal rinse wasn't working, or else they dithered me out of running a pressure washer nozzle (as in, press the trigger). Then the vacuum cleaner, the same one I have used in the past, was significantly deficient in sucking power, and we also note that vacuum cleaners seem to be a major perp prop.

Then after the car was cleaned, and still carrying water beads on it, a pickup truck in the lane beside me just plain moved into my lane and encroaching on my vehicle. I'm not sure how we didn't collide, as I wasn't about to cede my place, having been through a number of these stunts in the past. And the reason the pickup truck "needed" to change lanes was a broken down limo in the lane with a wedding party standing at the curbside. Too cute to be for real, as in not orchestrated.

There was orange kitchen mess when I came back, the ever-stalking roomie was at it again, leaving mess in the kitchen and then taking off. Said mess included leaving the cleanup sponge splattered in orange mess too. It got cleaned up after I waited an hour to make dinner. Some orange flecks remained, and lo, if there wasn't some orange (paprika) on my cooked chicken meat I had to cut, along with the new jar of tapenade being orange colored. Placing orange fleck here and there has been a constant harassment theme, and if they need more, why, orange plasma flashes can momentarily appear on objects to increase the annoyance level.

The yoga instructor is behaving a little more friendly, this being at least my 6th time. At first she looked totally shell-shocked, but manages to smile and be friendly. Which includes after the class, as she was very avoidant until today. I suppose she represents the size and proportions of someone who is borderline obese, as in close to Unfavored corpulence (fatness). From some angles she has a massive ass, though from at least one angle it doesn't look so bad. I figure Ms. C of the story was arranged for the same reasons as they are both the same size and height. Ms. C was the sort-of girlfriend who stayed on through the initial harassment onset, appearing to help me out at times, and obviously abetting at others. On our last face-to-face encounter in Everett WA, June 2003, she gives me this big long "love me" speech which I thought was way over the top as our relationship was fraught to say the least. After that, the US Border Patrol wouldn't let me into the US to clear out my belongings from my apartment, and so visiting Ms. C wasnt doable. She said she would come up and visit, but reneged in the last week, and lo, if the perps didnt plan a Christmastime family get-together then. In otherwords, Ms. Cs commitment to visit was bogus if you accept that my life is arranged and scripted to the nanosecond as it seems to be (worse now than then, as their mind control methods werent as refined). (Note; apostrophes are missing because this keyboard just got messed with).

After yoga to get some grocery shopping done, and lo, if the one thing I went to this particular store for wasnt there. So off to the alternate store to then finish up on grocery shopping. Lunch, and then off to hike in a nearby natural park that has plenty of rock walls for climbers. It has gneiss rock which is very firm to grab and tie to the park description says. (I dont do rock climbing, especially in these managed circumstances). I got some tanning time on my front which gets much less sun on vineyard work. The trails were rugged, with having plenty of smaller rock pieces. And again, the first time on a trail, and the perps have me wear my trail runners which offer no ankle support, same as the last trail I did a few weeks ago. And again, I wore my yoga shorts and tank top. The perps seem to like me wearing these same clothes to go hiking in. At least 12 -15 overflights from aircraft, from single engine fixed wing to four engine fixed wing. No helicopters though, most strange. But they will put on a helicopter at 0520h in the morning when I step out to dump the coffee grounds in the compost bucket on the deck. Amazing timing, and maybe 300ft high, and flying slowly.

Enough banterring and to get this posted to end the week.

Tuesday, August 07, 2012

Flight Week

Monday, and the vineyard owners are to return and see the over-thining my co-worker did three days ago. They won't be pleased, and I get to do all the explaining as it was her last working day. Too cute, as in too  convenient.

They are away on a family emergency, which does make me wonder as to how these are arranged in concert with more dull things going wrong, per above. As in being the only one working there for three days in succession, kind of a perp signature move. If one is to cooperate with the perps, do they sign up for a non-injury car crash, or hospitalization or what? Some of the things that happened to my long past co-workers or colleagues were borderline tragic, so it does make me wonder if they sign up for a certain level of personal injury? And I am talking about months, six or more, of rehabilitation.

This is the week I fly (Aug. 01, Wednesday), for the third time since Mar. 30, 2012, to Victoria, BC, the Gangstalking Capital of Canada for a First Feral Family function. The perps hadn't let me fly anywhere since late 2002, and now three times in four months. Maybe it is to have me expose my vineyard worker  tan to family, as they are all cooperating and abetting. And of course, the brown skin color is so vital to the perps' objectives, this might be the real reason. Yesterday, while at the mall for my crap refugee routine, a Caucasian woman with a very dark brown tan on her back, and no straplines either, lead ahead of me in gangstalking mode from outside in the parking lot to the food court. Only afterward was I allowed to ruminate on this and its possible perp activity connections.

A white colored twin enging prop aircraft made 30 passes overhead while listening to Capercaillie on my headphones while in the vineyard. And of course, getting the engine noise through the headphones. I haven't listened to their records for at least 15 years, save the odd YouTube look/listen.

I learned that the family emergency of the vineyard owners was due to their son getting a staph infection in his blood. Extensive surgery was undertaken and subsequent monitoring are in order. They were fortunate that he survived, as it was a 50-50 chance going into surgery which was moved ahead a day, another fortuituous decision.

And yet again, with headphones on and listening to Capercaillie while triming vine shoots nearby noise starts up and runs for at least four hours. This was the senseless over-revving gasoline powered string trimmer act again, another vineyard across the street. End of music listening then and there with that racket getting through the headphones.

And no Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) yesterday and today; perhaps that two blocked toilets stunt was their swansong in terms of bowel harassment. We shall see, as they don't like me to become complacent, aka, keeping the FUD (Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt) going, an ever continuing need of the perps.

Five days away on a First Feral Family visit. All three brothers, their spouses and my ex, my father (senile, wheelchair bound), my mother, my niece (8 yo.)and my daughter (22 yo.). And I am talking about the in-town brother and his Thai girlfriend and her brown skin, and out-of-town brother's E. Indian wife, both part of the continuing brown skin comparison/harassment show. And too, my brown skin from tanning, with various changes in color as I get tanned much more on the back of my legs and back than on my front due to the nature of the vineyard work. That is, standing up with the trellis at arm's length to do work on shoots, leaves etc.

A family get-together at the Buchart Gardens dining room, and a very cute and friendly Mexican woman as the waitress, just a little brown she was. From the window, we could see a courtyard below with the tourists passing by on show; major gut struts and the orange and red (both highly Unfavored) T-shirt gang were out in force/on parade. Then a one hour family gangstalking while touring the gardens, with plenty of Asian tourists and some 5 different negroes also hounding me in multiple places. The sirens were heard, but as this is so common now, I am resigned to it being either noise or for real. It was the latter, as a tour bus, some half mile away, and full of Asian tourists, caught fire and the bus had to be evacuated as it burned to a crisp in mid-intersection, the last one before the Buchart Gardens. Another case of burning fire where a party of Asians had been sitting; and it won't be the last time. They all got off safely thankfully, but one has to wonder just how this "happened", and what the perp agenda was. No doubt there was some distant dependent energy interaction as part of this, though again, I have no idea why the perps pulled this one.

I am compressing five days into one single headline, so this won't cover all the feints and fuckarounds courtesy of the First Feral Family. One was a visit to the specialty tool shop with the out-of-town brother; we had done this same trip last year. This time, on the way back, he got an involved cell phone call and pulled over and had me drive his late model Honda Pilot the remainder of the trip, of some 15 min. duration. I had never driven this before, and it is a light tan brown color with a darker shade of brown (caramel) interior. And as it was a USA import model, the speedometer was in MPH, something I "somehow" forgot, and I was wondering why I was travelling past everyone at 60 MPH when I thought it was KPH (kilometers per hour). Not that my brother said anything of course, he on the cell phone the entire time. That is, read, local EMF signals in my proximity while mobile in a vehicle.

And at the specialty tool company, at least two gangstalking skits involved two or three males converging on me from 7' away, and I ducked down another aisle. LIke WTF; if I have abreactions from abusers (males in all likelihood) converging on me it is not my problem. Go fuck yourself and figure it out on your own. This followed seeing lots of older male musicians on the documentary on the Sun Records label the evening before.

I also met up with my farmworker friend, who was excessively friendly and gregarious for some reason. LIke she was stoned or something, but she doesn't do these kinds of medications. And she really wanted to compare tans, and I said I wasn't about to take off my shirt on the street. So when we were seated, I had my jacket off, she put her arm next to my L. arm in a touchingside-by-side comparison of our tans. I was way ahead as she has a skin conditon (psoriasis) and cannot tan in long spells. Call it another brown skin color test. this one touching, which has to be the perps finest browntalking move ever, given the limited touches I get from cashiers and the like. Nothing too new on the farmworker gossip front, as she is working at the farm I worked at for the last two years.

Another obvious First Feral Family gangstalking was the in-town brother coming over, and then standing in my way when I was to return to my seat in the living room. The fucker didn't move, and some mock blows were exchanged. I told him the second that this insane abuse stops that I would remove the smirk from his face, but he wasn't too surprised about this, nor did it have any registry as to invoking any discussion on the abuse topic. They don't want to know, nor discuss it, especially in 2002 when the out-of-town brother switched from helpful to no help once I knew he was in on it, like the rest of First Feral Family, aka Quisling Fuckwits of the First Order. Said in-town brother did other stupid stuff like lying down on the carpeted floor instead of getting a seat, which was availible. While there he also cuddled up to the green suitcase that was there, the source of the items that we were dividing up, as it was the last of the family posessions from my mother's house in the UK. My mother and my out-of-town brother went to the UK in 10-2011, and lo, if they didn't happen to chance upon the last days of my mother's family house before being transfered to new owners. There was old notes, photographs, some trays made of marquetry, and some other items to divide up. Not much, and it was apparent that my uncle, my mother's brother, had combed the house and these were the last of the things he was going to deal with, even throw them out in the trash. What amazing timing they had, as their UK trip was not timed for the last days of family home  possession.

I got nailed for a four hour nap the afternoon and evening I returned from my flight and drove back to Pentiction. I had time to unpack and put everything away, as well as attend to grocery shopping and bank deposits. And gangstalking was rife; some five Asians all wearing the same green T-shirts converged on me at the grocery store checkout, and two of them got way too close that I cancelled my debit card transaction and paid cash. How fucking rude that one cannot enter one's debit card password privately.

And then at the ATM, more convergence, this time vehicles coursing around and stopping at the ATM while I was depositing a check and getting cash. The perps seem to be indulging in more variability as to how much cash I have in my wallet and where I use it. Again, ask me if I care what they are fucking about for when they could ask me in person. But after ten years of insane relentless hounding and abuse, they are still at it, the Closet Keepers.                 

Plucking leaves on the vineyard all day long, perfect for listening to music from my Android phone. Like yesterday, a hot day with full on sun, and then the high clouds slipped in to shade me down some. It was 29C instead of 36C on 08-05-2012  when I flew back into Kelowna and drove to Penticton where I reside. I resume work, and lo, if the sun doesn't get clouded over at noon time, two days in succession.

I figure I will work on this blog, the above First Feral Family visitation, and then post this. The usual post-weekend posting got messed up with the four hour nap attack on Sunday.

And as I am about to post this, why, the hot-rod muffler noise has started up outside, so I will wait until the noise ends before posting this.