Sunday, September 16, 2012

Drain the Coffers

That title translates to sabotage the victim's vehicle so they can purge more of his money away. Sure, $350 for the timing belt replacement at 200k km is a given, but taking out all my running lights and then shorting it so they had to be rewired for $120 was a cute trick. And taking out a light in the dash was another; an hour of shop time to get in there and put it back, was $100 (dealership shop), and the bulbs were $25. Taking out the light on the transmission shifter was also cute, having me turn on the overhead light at night to see what gear to shift in for a few weeks. No charge for that one for some reason. The total bill was $743, which translates to a whole lot of cash when working for $11.50/hour, the perp approved rate after an enforced six years of none but the bullshit disability payments I recieved.

And the perps' obsession over pissing and sabotaging indoor lighting lights and lamps hasn't gone unnoticed these past ten years of sustained and insane abuse (and before then too). Not to mention the plethora of outdoor lights, public and private, that seem to be on the fritz and on during daylight hours. The nighttime motion detector controlled outdoor lights that also go on in the daytime by "mistake" is another. Add on the curious noise eruptions when lights go off or on, on top of everything else, and one begins to understand that the properties of light, in all its myriad sources, especially including the sun (and its sunspots too), that I see or fall upon me at any given moment are of huge interest to the sick assholes who have taken upon themselves to make sure I remain totally brain trained and obedient to the Greater Nonconsensual Experiment. And not for the greater good as I see it, despite the wide involvement of all I have known in all their diverse personality types.

A warm day on the vineyard, which is not how this week started out. But everyone is glad for that, as the grapes have not ripened yet, and the heat and the light are much needed.

The owner got pissy again over arranging the fruit so it is free hanging. I was doing the job for the last three weeks with the leaves removed from the fruiting zone on one side, and all seemed OK. But now that the E. Indian fruit plucker has arrived, the other side is plucked, making the fruit much more visible, and minimal plucking on my part. I am to do the fruit arranging, except that the vineyard has to be done in two weeks, which means it has to go 8x faster. I suppose one can do less of it and skip some, and change the job to a timed event more. Attempting to get 8 rows a day done instead of one. And the owner fessed up that he couldn't really explain what he was wanting to achieve in terms of the grape cluster density.

The perps whacked me out and made me feel too tired to change back into my long pants after work. So I drove home in my shorts I had been wearing after lunch. The vehicular gangstalking was just plain nuts, as well as dithering dipshits in front of me, slowing down and being over cautious at intersections. This was the industrial area route, and not the Main Street major thoroughfare for Penticton.

And I see my new Dell 2412 IPS type monitor is now sharper and brighter two weeks after I bought it; the perps must of been working hard on adjusting my vision after the former LG TN type LCD monitor that was replaced due to a line across the screen becoming a total pain in the ass.

Plenty more forced pee-ing; 3x before I got out the door to work. Then at least two more in the first hour, and another five seconds after I stepped on this pile of volcanic landscape rock I was to shovel. As regular readers will know, the perps are obsessed with soil and rock color, and its provenance (where it came from), so for them, it was a big enough deal they had to force another unneeded piss.

Last night it was a similar theme; they had me online and looking at bathroom fans, as there isn't one here and I was looking for a portable one that doesn't need to be wired in. I was looking on Amazon. com where I get to see more selection than, and a number of wired in ceiling fans came up in the research. They then kept me in this reverie about installing one, and how I could wire it in, and at one point there was a wall mounted one, and I thought (or else it was a planted notion) this would be a much better solution as no duct work would be needed. And at this point, a sudden an irrepressible need to take a crap came on, and so I had to comply, and while on the throne they reminded me that I had installed a wall mounted bathroom exhaust fan in the basement suite bathroom in the last place I owned.  Well so what; and why all this nonsense about installing a wired in bathroom fan in the first place, ceiling or wall mount. I don't own this house, I rent, and by the time this particular model of wall mount fan got installed it would be a $700 bill. My landlady scores a bookcase for my suite for $2 at VV, so why would I even consider that she would be interested in a $700 bathroom fan for me? Absurd. And that is one more example of perp planted unrealistic ideations that can go on for 20 minutes or more before they stop suspending my reality check faculties on its feasibility. Another example of never-before (harassment) thought patterns.

The perps woke me up an hour early (at 0500h) for no seeming reason at first. But as there is another basement suite next door, and this woman, whom I have never met, gets up about then, why, we both got up in our respective suites at about the same time. I switched my schedule to awaken at 0600h this week, and so it would seem that she was sticking to her schedule and leaving the place around 0615h. And so when doing dishes and then later putzing away my extra hour, she wasn't doing anything going by the fact there was no noise forthcoming. But around 0715h some noise and coughing and hacking starts up, and then the door gets banged a few times and she was off. I leave at 0730h, and so her vehicle was gone. Like WTF; the perps arranged our schedules to be nearly identical when her routine was delayed an hour for the first time to match mine. Other assoiciated weirdness was that there was someone else creaking the floorboards while she was downstairs coughing and hacking. Anyhow, nothing is normal to say the least, and that especially includes others' behaviors and changing of their routines to match mine.

Another high cloud but sunny day, augmented with smoke in the air, on the vineyard. All in keeping with the light level dimming the perps like to put on; keeping the sun beaming through but limiting the light levels. I started out working in the vineyard, took a break to augment myself with tan intensifier to glean the last of the natural tanning for 2012. Only five minutes into the fruit placement work on this row I was working on and then I got called over to finish yesterday's landscaping work as more landscape cloth was resupplied. So... with the tan intensfier under my shorts (I hitch them up when working in the vineyard alone) I got to finish laying the black landscape cloth (over where my vehicle had been parked a few minutes before), and shovel the red and grey volcanic landscape rock. All very important to the perps this application of tanning intensfier as well as sunblock on my face. And too, they like to keep the sunlight level and exposure time limited, much more doable at this time of year, along with the additional interventions noted above, the high cloud and haze in the air.

Another perp excitement event is the weekly changeover to a new razor insert. This is a twin blade Gillette, and it has the Teflon rub strip which seems to be all important in their perp games related to ubiquitous pollutants, PFOA's from Teflon manufacturing that even polar bears have in their bloodstream. And not forgetting they have me shave my torso (front) each morning, so I must have a greater Teflon and Gillette steel signature from shaving than most males who would only shave their face. And I am sure there are perp operatives who must spend some time shaving like I do and then circulate as gangstalkers afterward, or maybe days afterward. It is curious that Friday is the typical razor insert changeover day, and with two days off, they can also test me at yoga (Sunday) and elsewhere on the gangstalker scene that is scripted with such precision.

A 73 minute phone call with my farmworker colleague (sort of) tonight. And she never once asked how I was, and what I was doing. There has been a "don't phone", and "don't respond (email)" pattern to most of my associates' behavoirs of late, so I was a little surprised at getting such a lengthy call. And she talked about the Mexican workers at her farm, and while I know a few from last year, it does leave me baffled as to why she goes on about these people, by name, whom I don't know. And I have mentioned needless name dropping as a perp objective haven't I? Just not recently or else my recall is getting wiped more than I am allowed to know.

And why is it the perps continue to attack and disable my headphones? I only got them two months ago as I needed a new pair to fit the cellphone as the PC-fitting ones wouldn't fit the jack properly. I am on my fifth pair of heaphones in ten years, and I hardly get to use any of them due to other scripted diversions. The Grado SR80 headphones were very musical, but after the perps went overt/beserk in 04-2002, they spun the metal gimbel mount in the plastic gimbel and rendered them unusable. This "happened" while they were on my head for crissakes, and I could hear the metal gimbel mount spinning at my L. ear along with the music I was listening to. I got the parts a year or so later from the Grado factory, and they worked fine for a whole CD. But then they decided that extended music listening wasn't allowed, so they disabled one headphone. I gave up, and got cheap ones, as they had already sabotaged the CD player, had me taken it in to get fixed, it worked for the same whole CD and it too was then messed with so it wouldn't play properly. Other headphones came and went, broke or were disabled, but after peeling the foam surface and creating plenty of plastic mess for a while, they left the Sony ones alone. Except that they didn't fit the recent cell phone acquisition, ergo, the new pair of Denons. But as the perps have a long history of plaguing me with interuptions in listening to music, they decided to up the ante and sabotage the headphones.

They somehow popped the locking tab out, through no action of my own, and when I attempted to fix it, which I did, they broke the head piece lug that attaches to the gimbel mount. Here we go again, fixing fucking headphones again, sending them across the country to get fixed or replaced, and on it goes. They pulled this same stunt in disabling a pair of hearing protection earmuffs back in 2004, all because they had a red band in the earmuff cup. The next pair of earmuffs were dark metallic green and with black pads. No red objects or garments allowed anywhere near my head ever since.

Later now; after having me putz online for too long this morning, the perps made me feel queasy. I got up and attended to the laundry in the washing machine and took it outside the clothesline. I started to put the laundry out, and lo, if the queasy didn't turn out  worse and they made me puke in the grass only 4' away. And a deep brown color it was too, from the chocolate at breakfast some two hours earlier that somehow didn't digest. A few more rounds of puking outside, then finish hanging the laundry, and I go inside with the basket, and lo, if another round erupts keeping me at the toilet to puke into. An inside and an outside puke color comparison is what the assholes needed. And of note, when they can have me digest a meal and shit out the digested food inside 20 minutes, one can clearly see that the perps needed a brown puke show this morning.

That wasn't all though; they had me attend to finish sharpening the lopers from last week, as I spent at least an hour getting the blade shaped and rough sharpened with a coarse diamond stone. So.. on with the outside road traffic noise while I sat at a table outside and sharpened the blade that was detached from the handles. Then it was very sharp, and then a cognitive clobbering as to how to put it together, again with extra road traffic noise outside, and eventually they let me put it together, and adding to the games by pulling parts and screws from my hand. And when I finally had it together after a painful 20 min. (it would of been five at the most if I wasn't getting dithered and fucked with), all of a sudden there was this sudden need to puke. And again, a visit to the toilet, and this time lighter brown puke, and once done and cleaned up, it was on with sharpening the Felco hand pruners. This took over an hour because someone, not me, warped the 2" blade on it somehow. Then at 1400h, onto some backyard tanning, missing the best light at this time of year. Anyhow, I skipped lunch and have only finished dinner. Hopefully it stays down. All of the above aided in keeping me house bound for the day, when I had plenty of town visiting things to do.

Sunday, and yoga was first at 0930h. This time the collection of some 15 women class members last week didn't materialize, but instead a dude instructor and another dude class member who could pass for Thomas Friedland, author of Guns, Germs and Steel and a NYT correspondent, came to do the "dude bonding" or whatever the perp rationale is. At 0920h, just those two were in the class room, doing whatever preliminary stretches they were doing. Last week, at 0915h, I walked in and all 15 women were already in place. This week, only five women came, trickling in after 0925h. Thankfully the heavily tattooed woman wasn't there, as the perps like to place her behind me so she is seen in the mirror all the time. It was like I was radioactive; they came in behind and along the wall, with a big-hips woman in black placed behind me for the in-mirror featuring. It was the first time in all my yoga of once/week (excepting farmwork summertime jobs), that there was a male instructor. No big deal, but the other dude-student put on his heavy breathing act so I was exposed to this ridiculous huffing and puffing during class. It just seemed like the noise was planted almost, as how could a supposedly fit cyclist, as he arrived in helmet and the rest of the cycling garb, be so breath-constrained by moderate yoga? When this BS comes to mind it is good to further evaluate the act to observe if it is for real, but as he "happened" to behind the pillar, so such luck. This heavy breathing dude hasn't been attending for at least six weeks, and then he shows up in this reduced class size with pre-class exposure to him and the male instructor. All too odd, this male-female mix the perps put me through, often featuring some aspect of body shape.

Said male yoga instructor came with tattoos on his wrists and inner arm, and of course I was treated to them from many angles each time I looked for pose detail. The tattoo show is another consistent perp presentation stunt. If I don't like tattoos, why is it that I am pursued for ten fucking years by all kind of planted Fuckwits who are arranged to show me their revolting self-directed disfigurements? Something to do with abreactions incurred during the mind-wiped years when aged 2 to 5 I suspect. And according to one young witness, they shaved the heads of their subjects in Montreal at the hands of the shrink-of-CIA's-bidding and tattooed their scalps for semi-permanent reference locations. And golly, I was there in Montreal, 1956-57 (aged 2) and 1958-59 (aged 4), and have next to no recall of being there when the latter stay should of been exceptionally vivid, re-visiting its iconic urban winterscape.

I was allowed to get my vehicle waxed today, but in two sessions; one this morning before the daytime sun got too warm, and this evening. And both times this parade of vehicles outside, loud to be sure, and all my nemeses; HD motorcycle noise, loud performance mufflers, hotrod muffler noise etc. The sun dropped below the hills when I had the last passenger door to wax, but there was still ample light. And just when I am about done, why, some black goo arrived on the door, needing a new cleaner. And I wasn't done that when a woman drove up, did a 180 degree turn in mid-road and blocks the driveway. She introduced herself as the new housekeeper, that for whatever reason was waiting for a friend. Said friend was at least 220lb, another Fat One, and as it turned out, they couldn't get in the house because the landlady changed the keycodes. Like WTF; the landlady from her holiday home, sent me an email last night about a new housekeeper, who arrived just as I was finishing the waxing of the vehicle, stands around waiting for a "friend", and then they cannot get in.

At least two hours of outside tanning this afternoon, without the preliminary barf scene of yesterday. Likely the last tanning of the year at this latitude, N of 49, S of 50. Another planted behavior of late is the discovering of substantial numbers of ingrown hairs on my legs. Well they never bothered me before, so why now, and why didn't the waxing ladies tell me what they looked like anyhow? I thought the few subsurface hairs that were evident were the ingrown hairs, but no, all those micro-zits have a hair buried below the surface. So this has become a "need", poking them with sharp tweezers and extracting the hair. And lo, if the dog barking noise and the people talking noise doesn't start up as I am picking at them outside while tanning. End of that exercise, and back to reading a very good book in JFK, The Unspeakable, by James Douglass. And too, the noise restarts when I pick up the book over three separate reading sessions while tanning.

Onto posting and possibly a new venture on the vineyard.

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