Sunday, December 09, 2012

New Motel Residence

First weekday at this new residence. And the brown games were on. Not only do have many unpacked cardboard boxes, and the contents out of those that I did unpack, but I also received a brown box from a certain online discount place with the items that I ordered. Of major note was this soft shell jacket, a nice mid-blue in color, and lo, if it didn't have a patterned scarlet red colored liner that I did not expect. This is so much red that I don't think I could wear it, even if it doesn't show. The perps have a way of planting constant nagging ideations to have one change their mind awful quick. And I also see that the same underwear I order in black, is now with a half blue waistband (inside) and with some small red patterns on it too. Otherwise, it is identical in make and cut to my all black underwear. And as the perps have been on a ten year long tear as to my underwear color and all the other related details, this represents the first progress in being allowed to have anything but black underwear. They still won't let me have plain briefs, and insist that I have a high waist and extra (useless) panels on the front.

A double move as it "happened"; the room next door was to be the one, but lo, if there wasn't a problem with the reservations, so I had to move again last night, one room away. This being a motel room, and cramped it is, unlike the one I had in January thru May. The perps like to alternate keeping me crammed and then having sufficient room. I would posit that there has been two of each for the four places I lived in this year, alternating, and starting with sufficient room.

Then too, this motel has more of the shiftless males loitering around with no seeming day job; sitting outside their rooms, sucking on cigarettes, and their telltale perp coughing and hacking. Every so often they do a soliloquy on the cell phone to ensure I hear enough background "dude banter", as has been the long running perp stunt.

And true to form, a resumption of the toilet blocking games within 2 minutes of finishing the move-in for this residence. Regular readers will recall this identical stunt/event got pulled on me the last residence within a minute of the last box being hauled from the vehicle. And then that wasn't enough, because the put me through the same exercise this morning. I recall this same back-to-back blocked toilet stunt was pulled in the first week of the last place too.
They gave me a week off from toilet games last week, and now are back at it. At least they didn't block it as I was departing the last place as these events can go for three or more days before they are "resolved" with Liquid Plumber. Or should that be dissolved? And just when I wanted more ammunition in the form of bleach to deal with this problem, why, it disappeared from the shelves of the regular gangstalker big box store. (And the red staff shirts give me the heebie-jeebies). Regular readers will recall that the One Minute Plumber gas cartridges also disappeared from the same shelves when I was to replenish the three expended cartridges at my employer's toilet hassles this past summer.

And plenty more hassle today, the first morning in this room; re-directed finger control, objects flipping or turning on their own, soap bubbles from nowhere and all the other juvenile pranks that I have come to loathe all day long.

 I got whacked for a 45 min. "nap attack" after tea and chocolate some 15 minutes into a new book; and has this not repeated in recent months? Yes it has, and it would seem they want me more psychically accessible following beginning a book.

The former landlady had to be re-visited yesterday for me to collect my damage deposit. What a freak; 250lb, dressed entirely in red, and a thick neck like a frog. Then she regales me with her Air Miles card woes (again), as if I gave a shit, as I loathe those customer loyalty cards, unless store specific.

The landlady paid me in cash, the new Canadian $50 bills with polymer "paper" and even a see-through panel. The bills ended up in my wallet for longer than planned as she kept me until my tanning appointment time (clothes off, note), which then backed into store closure time and a big perp stakeout at the LD store. Then to the ATM where oddly, two of the six $50 bills went missing, though I wasn't allowed to know that then. Only afterwards did they run the logic of how much there should of been from a damage deposit, reimbursement and labor work I did for her. I was $100 short, and yet I put all the $50 bills into the envelope. [Post script; I see the bank ATM staff logged a "Error" and a $100 addition to my account, now one day later. So it would seem the perps needed to steal two new polymer bills from my wallet, have me deposit the remainder after jerking me around to other errands when I intended to deposit them right away, and then give them back by either re-inserting them into the sealed deposit envelope or directly transacting with the banking system. This would not be the first time contents of my wallet have disappeared by themselves outside of the conventional physical reality of most every one else.

They finally let me finish out the week with vineyard work, the wine all put to bed for the month I am to be away. I also moved the fruit tree prunings from yesterday; a tree service person came yesterday while I was inside, putzing with the wine making. The perps like to arrange someone cutting plant material near me, if not having me do it. Last year, when helping the boss' son move house, the cable installer was cutting a nearby shrub with his pliers as one of the more absurd cases of cutlery severing plant material. Just to think we now have combine harvesters cutting swaths of wheat, corn or whatever, and here are the perps grinding me on pruning vines or fruit trees. Back in 1996 I had a small hobby farm with an acre of kiwi fruit, which needed pruning each year. Now 18 years later, they put me through the same routine, just on someone else's farm.

A Saturday, and a full leg wax appointment. They pulled snow in the night, though only one or two inches, and it warmed up during the daytime to melt some of the ice that was crusted on my vehicle. No driving hijinks either with some ice on the road. The perps can use anything as an excuse to create hassle or adversity.

I went shopping after the leg wax, and the perps do like to swarm me then, and I had my posse in LD store again, though no loitering dude where I needed to go this time. Then to vacuum my vehicle for the second time in a week, as the pink gravel at the vineyard seems to find its way on my shoes and then into the foot well.

 The yapping dudes has set up outside my door, just voices right now, though when closer one of them mentioned a "roster". Hmm, as in organized shiftless males. Kind of a gimme on their part.

Another parcel has gone AWOL. A watchband to replace the one where the keeper self-ripped and for the last three weeks this infernal watchband sticks out 3" and contacts anything and everything at my L. hand. In the past, during key Fuckover moments, the watch band would flip out from its keeper loop all by itself, and now, I have the watchband snagging games going 24x7. Said letter parcel is traceable, and it took six days to send it from Bethel CT to Bethpage NY making it there Nov. 26. It left Bethpage NY Nov. 29 with three departure scans in three days and hasn't been scanned anywhere else since. And have I not mentioned the strange goings on with parcel deliveries? Many times.

Meanwhile, a book was ordered a few days later and it arrived inside a week. Largely because it is a two hour drive away, though I didn't know that at the time I ordered it. It seems that Amazon doesn't want me to know where the seller is physically located, and only the province, state and country is mentioned. Just more coincidence games it would seem.

Speaking of which, for the past two mornings, a vehicle at the next motel, 100' to my right, has been copying my R turn identically as I pull out from the motel to the street. I had this same deal for at least three mornings in succession at the last place I lived at. Though it is nothing new, as this copy-cat driving, emulating my turns and lane changes, was evident as soon as the assholes went berserk/overt in 04-2002.

I am due to drive out to Kelowna, 1.5hr northbound, and I see the perps pulled another snow job. Only an hour ago I checked the forecast and no snow was mentioned.

Am back from yoga; only 9 others this snowy morning, though not deep. Much less than the elbow to elbow classes with 25 or more. The cycling dude got close today, he and his grunting for crissakes, and he cannot get the poses right, only going partway. Said dude managed to park himself over my boots after class, and after putting his dumbshit dayglo coat next to mine for the entire class as I discovered afterward. Then while changing he stepped into my view, so fuck that, I cross to the other side of the lobby where a couch is, which was the signal for two women to suddenly file out the door. All these choreographed exits, entrances and obstructions.

They put on the blonde, young and proportional but-large woman instructor this morning, and making sure I saw her oversized ass more than once. This time she was in all black, having alternated from black and white in past classes. And it seemed to be bra-straps-on-show today, nearly half the women with some kind of visible undergarment straps. This is nothing new in the perp arrangements anywhere I go, but to have an undue emphasis on it in one yoga class is most curious. And one tattoo woman who put herself directly behind me by 8', and it seemed to be the arrangement that I would only occasionally see the tattoo in the mirror. Bad enough, but she was the one that came beside me two weeks ago when I was last there, and with plenty of more tattoo exposure then. And if I don't like the sight of tattoos, why is it that a secret organization needs me to see them in glimpses everywhere for over ten years of hounding me out of work and a normal existence?

The yapping dudes outside my door have clustered and keeping up the male banter, post tea and chocolate. Double the usual 100g no less, to make sure I have more brown signature I suppose.

Calling this one done before I travel to the First Feral Family home for four weeks. There should be a carol for TI's, maybe to the tune of 12 Days of Christmas- Four Fuckwits, Three Belligerent Drivers, Two Split Couples and a Brain in Research. You get the idea. In fact, the perps let me have a number of versions in prior years before they cut that from me.

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