Sunday, April 21, 2013

Over the Septic Tank

A day of hopping in and out of the Kubota RTV to retrieve prunings over one inch or more in diameter. The flail mulcher cannot handle the thicker chunks that are sometimes removed in the course of pruning. (Mostly it is the canes that are cut back, and they don't get more than 3/4" diameter. Of course I learn this now, because I could of packed out the chunks when I was pruning Jan. through March. But as the FUD-fog is always prevalent as part of the present Imposition, why, I find out way too late.

I got an extra incentive to dig out the top of the septic tank at the vineyard, as it seems the former owner decided to bury any access to it. Whatever; the perps have been playing with excrement ever since the Day of Infamy (Eleven Years On), in all its facets and representations from formation, toilet games, local sewage plants, septic fields etc. So here we go again, it just "happens" to be my employer's place this time.

Yoga; the major tatttoo dude again, in Power Yoga, though he didn't put his tats in front of me in the lobby after class, like he did twice before. A disproportate large assed women was in front of me, a most ungainly sight it was. And like "usual" (last six months or so), they leave an open spot next to me and then the shills/Fuckwits arrive at the last minute or even after class has begun, to fill in around me. Last year it was the native Indians arriving along with their tattoos, swooping in at the last minute to fill in the inexplicably remaining space around me. Today, it was two Caucasian women, the youngest one next to be with a blonde behind her. Her qualifications for being Unfavored was red hair. The women tattoo show was limited, one had three small stars on her wrist, also on show the prior class.

And it seems I cannot get a break in any yoga class I go to, in terms of it being full, if not overfull. This class had six or eight students in it  three months ago and that was just fine. Now, it is populated with 20 students, getting close to over-capacity. This was the pattern of the Sunday morning yoga that I no longer attend as it got way too busy. Now they are pulling the same thing on Fridays.

Saturday, laundry day at this motel where I stay over the winter. And for "some reason" they increased the gangstalking coverage this morning when I walked the 100' or so through the parking lot to the laundry room. (The perp "reason" might be that I had just finished paying three bills online, one of them delayed because there was no "Next" function on the page unlike two days ago. Regular readers will know the perps are berserk over every financial transaction I make from mailed checks, coin machines, bus fare, bill payments online and in person and ATM's).

Continuing on the above gangstalk show, the Fuckwit lunk (met him some three weeks ago) from downstairs  was doing a troll across the front of the stairs with one pant leg hung up on his white sock all to cross his path some 10 seconds later. An elder-blonde woman with a disproportionately large ass was also thrown into this two party clusterfuck, "happening" to be converging and crossing my path 20 seconds ahead of me. She "happens" to show up in the office after I loaded the washing machine and set it going (read, financial transaction, -coin operated), as the perps fucked me out of taking my keys with me when I was looking right at them when getting the right change for the washing machine. Then a doppelganger stalker to the elder-blonde, (again, disproportionate large ass), came by to collect her laundry, all the while on her cell phone. Because I got a new key to get in to my suite I was obliged to return it and lo, if the second elder-blonde wasn't standing outside her seeming suite 5 minutes later with the still wet laundry load in hand. Just ridiculous, and all the more so when she could of sat down at the chair outside her suite.

A full-out stakeout/gangstalk for a 40 min. shopping trip; busy, with hotrod noise and motorcycles and the legions of traffic at 1330h. They even put on a white and red crane truck, bringing out the big iron, though one has to wonder why it was moblie on a Saturday. Even a before and after stalker at the ATM, and a brown bag on the adjacent window sill to add some color (har, har) into the gangstalking scene. Then the headlights on me when I exited, and another set on me when I got to my vehicle, the latter stopped in the middle of an aisle of empty parking lot stalls. As soon as I got my camera ready to take a pic, why, they moved on, even if they didn't see the camera as it was behind the dashboard. And if my windshield was any bit as reflective as theirs, they would not of seen the camera in any event, should I have put it to my eye to the camera to take the pic.

Month end (for March) accounting and the dude-yappers arrived en mass (5 or so) for background banter while I deal with the endless fuckery this exercise has become.

More to write about; constant shuffling of my aerial for internet access. First it works in the top USB port but this blocks the headphone jack. So I move it down 2" to the lower USB port and it works fine there too. Then it doesn't after a few weeks, so I move it to the top USB jack and it works fine again, even if it precludes music listening. Then after a few days neither works, so I use the local motel Wi-fi and it works for a few days. Then this ridiculous merry-go-round starts up again. There is nothing wrong with the cell phone reception here as my phone has four bars. And it is the same company that supplies these cell phone aerials and the same network. Anyhow, the signal path seems to be of acute interest to the perps, whether it via landline cable, landline twisted pair (traditional phone), cell phone and cell internet access.

Related to the above is the ongoing strangeness of the Firefox browser and email; it won't let me reply in Firefox so I redisplay the page in IE, and it works fine. It seems the perps want me to receive email in one browser and compose and send in IE. The latter comes without Ad-Block, a Firefox add-on that I find essential to contain the animated ads and other nonsense that invades my display while reading static text. Would we tolerate books if they had this ongoing distraction on the side? I doubt it, but ads aren't going to go away on the internet by themselves, and Ad-Block is an essential browser component that Microsoft would be unlikely to include in IE. And so goes browser switching for email use, forced by most the most strange intermittent bugs that have this exact same problem; compose and send being inoperative (blocked IMHO).

Round and round too we go with different accompanying background noise, one being the yapping dudes who arrived suddenly at 1730h as I was finishing the last 20 min. of month-end updates on Quicken. Said background of dude yapping, and there had to be at least five different male voices, continued while making and eating dinner, and while cleaning the dishes afterward. It seems they wanted dusk conditions to noise-track me, which is quite common for perp games and stunts.

Sunday, and an intended hike didn't quite work out, as I missed the trail head, and of course no signs. I ended up at the other end of the trail, and began to hike from there. The map was short on showing the trail and I proceeded on the wrong trail as it "happened". I never misread maps before, and I did just that when looking at it on a poster board on the second trailhead.

And lo, if the perps didn't bring on a new form of gangstalker, the birdwatcher. The greatest excuse for more "dwell time" as in loitering, taking off-trail parallels, stopping and starting ahead of me and reversals in mid trail. One was in a scarlet red coat, a form of gangstalker known as a Redcoat. (Others are Brownshirts, etc.)  And jets overhead, or just the noise thereof, as I reversed direction, which I did twice as it seemed that the trail petered out. Eventually I gave up as it seemed the trail really did stop at this pond.

And quite a crowd at the trail heads, at least a 8 vehicles at each end, which is a lot for a trail that is ill-defined and unsigned. Not a tourist trail either.

Sunday night, and my typical posting time, this abbreviated by the effort to get the Eleven Years On done this week too.

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