Sunday, February 03, 2013

Appointments Games

I worked an extra half hour to finish pruning a row of vines, and only then was I allowed to know that I wanted to leave at 1600h so I could make my yoga class at 1715h. A 20 minute drive and then to get home, change clothes and then a three minute drive to the class. It didn't seem doable at 1630h, and I resorted to the notion that I would miss yoga, I wasn't going to drive like a maniac, having done these kinds of stints before. At 1700h I was back at my place and it seemed doable, so changed and made it by five minutes to spare. Naturally my usual mat placement area was taken, so I took the best of what was available, thankfully it wasn't an overflow class. But uneventful as that seems, I wonder what it is in making appointments/classes on time, or otherwise, is so important to the perps. I have mentioned on this blog in the past year where medical or dental appointments were cancelled by the medical office personnel shortly after they agreed to the date and time.

Anyhow, another parcel delivery obstruction ended today; I ordered a hand vacuum pump Dec. 18 to no result, and on Jan. 16 I phoned and asked where it might be. I was told that it would ship that day. On Jan. 28 I finally received it, a small brown box that sat on my table unopened when I got myself to yoga, not wanting to be delayed any, per above. So it would seem that the big deal for the perps would be to have me here with the parcel, but not staying long enough to open it, and returning 1.5 hours later. There has been many other past interruptions when I get a parcel, say, a phone call just after putting the parcel down on a table. Apart from the brown color games, I just don't understand why the perps are so besotted with interfering with parcel deliveries, from ordering to receiving and everything in between.

I wasn't allowed to know of the alliteration/double meaning for an hour afterward, but here it is. I was attempting to bend acrylic tubing for a wine sampling vessel, but owing to "things going wrong", I couldn't get it done. About ten minutes later the woman of the owner couple drops into the garage winery and I start yakking about my pipe bending woes. She has some suggestions at to how to bend it, by putting it in hot water. She didn't say she had done it before, so I said something about researching acrylic pipe bending on Youtube. The conversation went on further, but I repeated my research options. Like I said, it was long afterward that I was allowed to detect the alliteration, "tube" bending and You-"tube". And why does this go on, planned to the microsecond. And as a further note, once looking on Youtube I find that one needs an oven to heat acrylic tubing, as hot water isn't hot enough. So I was getting gamed into a conversation with the BS line about using hot water, as if she knew, when she didn't.

Back to vineyard pruning and dog barking from the adjacent vineyard coordinated exactly with the moment of making the pruning cut of the Felco secateurs. It has been long mentioned that the perps have an obsession over cutting vegetation with various forms of cutlery, from the kitchen to the out of doors.

An inch of snow this morning; my vehicle didn't make it up the hill, some 10' short, and so I backed it down. I hiked the 120' up the hill, and a forced "forget" in leaving the red handled lopers in the vehicle. I have found my mind can be flushed of my intention in an instant nowadays. The assholes pulled this off last weekend too, forcing me to "forget" my keys when I was looking right at them.

And a phone from the winemaking supplies saleswoman when I was out pruning, so I left my gloves and hat there and walked back to the house while on the cell phone. It wasn't cold, but it serves as another example of leaving things in unusual situations/locations, and having me walk away from them. Separating me from my clothing is always a big deal, or especially footwear, all outside of normal daily clothing change activity of course. Then while in the house, and still on my cell phone and at a table, the perps then cause flashes of the vines (brown in color) from when I was pruning moments before. They sometimes replay these same vines flashbacks in the evening, seemingly to calibrate me from a former environment to the present and while on the phone and an EMF device at my ear (cell phone).


The perps started extra harassment this morning, and it wasn't the usual suspects of being coordinated with a new bag of coffee or other packaged food item. They even flew a half inch long gob of yogurt laterally from the bowl 12" away to the kettle and burner, getting both in one shot. Later while I work, I was juicing apples and handling the juice, and brown splats went everywhere. Some splats of brown juice/foam self-erupted out of the container, flying vertically to eye height and dropping down onto to the floor.  There were many extra forced fumbles, repeated effort and brown mess upon mess. And this extensive "browning around" is straight out of the perp's playbook. The owners took off on appointments for the better part of the day, but did help me clean up afterward.

More brown apple juice brown games, though much limited as I am dealing with the cryo-extraction to get very concentrated juice.

This followed blending of a rose wine in a bench test, and lo, if there wasn't yellow wine (will be white wine once filtered) and red wine interspersed with attending to brown apple juice; those long running perp red and yellow color games again, plus color transitions (blending) and taking some samples upstairs for the owner.

I set up a white wine tasting, blending two tanks, just the yellow colors this time. Then pruning in the afternoon, followed by attention to yet more of the apple juice.

Then to yoga where they sprang that asshole male instructor on me again. The schedule said the instructor was to be someone else who I knew to be reasonable. But no, this bald, fat and shorts wearing male instructor suddenly got substituted. That is four Unfavoreds for those who count. He started his relentless pacing around again, which includes circling me as one of his pacing choreographs. He backed off the pacing about half way through the class, and then got into adjusting class members, me included, without even asking.

A small venue concert after yoga, the perps putting me into this fresh from the back bends and other electromagnetic signals they can extract from spinal flexing.A good show, with a blonde waitress doing many extra pass-bys in front of me. In the backrground, I had a Tom Waits-like dude putting himself on show, along with the plethora of long-haired males. Even the owner, with his ridiculous 4" ponytail, let his hair down.

On the financial transaction stalking I got extra attention. I waited for a moment when the table of CD's was free and spoke with the artist's husband, himself of 24" long grey hair with a fedora on top. Within five seconds a rush of people were coming by from every direction. And while distracted, but with the CD in hand, someone else came in, and bought the same CD as I was holding, and which I later purchased. So here we had a crush of gangstalkers with physical contact, along with a rude-Fuckwit who swooped in after me, and pre-empted me to purchase the exact same item. Sweet.

Many of the usual gangstalker Fuckwits were there at the concert. I even got a few stares from patrons passing by my table for no reason. The finale to that aspect of harassment was at the end of the show and from a party of two couples at a table 8' away. She had her back to be all the show, and when she was departing she turns her head 180 degrees around and smiles at me. Like WTF, I don't even know the woman, and only just set eyes on her, though she was on the freakish looking side, though young.

And two young women next to me at a table, with the most visible one in a brown shirt who had her head down on the table for most of the second set. Go figure.

The waitress had me wait for my bill until after the show when she had been so diligent in getting the bill settled my mid-second set. That being the same waitress for crissakes, for at least five visitations in the past six months.

Saturday, and onto laundry. A red dressed male male standee was at his door when I passed by with my laundry. Like WTF; why are people standing at their doors for no apparent reason so often? Smoking is at least an excuse, but not this time. Then a red-shirtted ball-capper male bearing a pizza box came at me while I was about to enter my door, the perps causing my fingers to fumble all the more to delay me for more gangstalking interaction time.

And a loss of my glasses cleaning hand towel I have used for the past ten years in the laundry. This was originally a pink towel, but the perps changed it to lavender early in the harassment abuse onset, 04-2002. And only one work sock got laundered when there was a pair in the hamper. A same kind sock got "lost" last week, and so a pair was made up; one getting laundered last week and one from one today; exciting moments in perp abuse/games, sock-pairing fucking.

The usual full-time ear-ringing momentarily dropped in volume while eating, a first for this particular audible torture. I was cleaning the food on the outside of my gums, an abuse they started in 2005, and as my tongue was moving on the outside of my upper gums, why, the ear-ringing was momentarily stopped. Wonders never cease, though that would be true for perp blunders too.

Some vivid dreams this past week; a dystopic and anarchic scene in the UK, kind of like a barrio of third world slums in the so-called first world.

More great games such as noise coming from nowhere when looking for pipe and hose fittings, which was had exhaustive attention two weeks ago. Now in round 2, I find a compnay online that is a substantial player for sumpts, suction screens and filters but no links to where or how they sell their extensive offerings. More spoofing of websites; all the goods but no apparent means to sell them. In another instance, my online shopping cart suddenly got emptied without any forced keystroke blunders, their usual trick to feign folly.

And after copying and compressing (aka ripping) some 30 CD's yesterday in recovering from a perp purge of the last year of my music library updates, and now I see the tagging software going on the fritz. It never fucking ends, and there is no way out.

I came across a metaphor for the TI experience a few days ago when troving through music online, this from an album name. The TI is a "prisoner in disguise".

About now, the Superbowl is in progress, surely a much perp monitored event, and they have me in shut-in mode today. Onto posting this before any more forced keystroke blunders sent me orbital.

No comments: