Sunday, September 29, 2013

Post Visitation by the First Feral Family

Recovery from a four day First Feral Family visitation. That is, my perp-abetting mother came to visit, after I visited her and my out-of-town brother and family in Kamloops. A four day weekend in effect, first driving there, and then two days of her visiting me in Penticton.

The usual disruption fuckery and gaming; fumbling and feigning, and dragging her ass so we are further apart in any public area so gangstalkers can walk between us. Then a wait in my vehicle for 40 min. downtown while she was at the bank for a cash withdrawal with her bank card. Meanwhile, the freakshow paraded by while I was reading the paper inside my vehicle all this while. Of course there were rationalizations; new cashier, new system, wrong ID etc. The 86 y.o. doddering and hard of hearing act is played up all the more, and now a whole lot more clutching and grabbing of things to get up or out of a seat. e.g. grabbing the roof of the vehicle to aid her from getting out of the car seat. I cannot count the number of times the perps put on this pathetic act in public; vagrants leaning on posts while waiting for the traffic light to change, etc.

Four weeks for my CD to be sent up from Oregon via an Amazon used/Marketplace order. All to be there in place at my door when my perp-abetting mother was with me. There is something about taking possession of a new item that the perps want to know about, hence this obstruction skit.

At the vineyard/winery, filtering wine- addition went lumpy in a filtered batch. Bummer, but one more filtering to go, so it isn't the end of the world, thank goodness.

A sudden perp harassment attack at the end of the filtering; pulling items from my grasp, excessive visits to take a pee (three in an hour), the filter wasn't on properly, and wine dumped out, a liter or so before I caught it in a bucket. Though, the perps also dithered me as to where the off switch was, delaying me attending to the problem by at least five critical seconds. Also, fucking me out of where I put something down, even if a few seconds before, than having me spend five minutes looking for it all over the place.

I set up the vineyard/winery bottling system to no acclaim; it just sat there wetted filters for the rest of the day, from 1300h on. All in keeping with the perps' games over filtering, as if last week's relentless and senseless abuse hijinx weren't enough.

And the perps did get nasty again; items pulled from my grasp, getting scrambled as to what I went to a certain location for (never happened until this abuse began in 04-2002), dropping items, forced pee-ing every 20 minutes or so etc.

And later, games with participating employer family around having me hang around at the gate, as my vehicle was blocked from getting back to the driveway. Even the family feuders were conscripted to hang around together, though no love or expression of interest in each other.

What is the perps' obsession over me measuring things? Then a cell phone call from my boss at work while he was driving, again, more about measuring, picking bins this time. (That is, an EMF device at my ear while measuring a requested object). For years now, they would noise-stalk me at the moment of measuring something, but now it has progressed to concurrent cell phone calls and having the phoning person being 20 miles away or more.

A half hour later get-up; no torso or nuts shaving, still the now "usual" (read, imposed) routine for the second time this shortened work week, Wed-Fri. And in keeping with the perp's insane fixation over shaving, hair cutting of any kind, and I assume, also evidenced by the innumerable hairs that drop onto me, on this keyboard, my food etc. They are about 50% attributable to me, same color and length, and the remainder are from elsewhere; long grey hairs, thick long black eyelashes, 20" long black hairs etc.

Wine filtering and bottling at the vineyard/winery and one instance of condensending banter. The owners took off again, now some 90% consistent anytime I do wine filtering.

Yoga tonight, and the ever frenetic male instructor again; pot bellied and bald headed and in loose shorts; (= three Unfavored features, plus being male over 20). Then add his day-glo lime shirt with horizontal bands in it, and one has to wonder if he could attain any more Unfavored status.

Some 11 other women yoga classmates, and two young ones behind me, which is where I get to look most of the time. One was slim, the other was a medium build. Then the much-Unfavored instructor would stand in between them, as if to gain some kind of auric glow from them. Ridiculous, as to how often the Unfavored male is arranged to be in the immediate proximity of cute babes.

One case of tattoos in tonight's class; one woman, some 12' away, with two intervening classmates, had a bright green tattoo, and lo, if if didn't match her shirt exactly in color and hue. Needless to say, my vision was pointed there many more times than I would of if uninvaded. My visual attention has been radically altered since the perps went berserk/overt in 04-2002.

At least 6 forced pee-ings this morning, yesterday it was at least twice that. Events such as putting on new gloves, taking on a new task, prior to going outside, or alternatively outside to inside are all occasions for sudden onsets of "need-to-pee" moments.

Saturday, and a later start due to a sudden urge to clean the bathroom having just finished my morning routine (shower, shave, dental hygiene). The planted rationalization notion was that since it hasn't gotten cleaned in over two weeks at any other time, why not now on a weekend morning? Never mind that I had nothing on (usual "attire" at this juncture), and that is how I remained "dressed" for the extra 30 min. I took to clean up the floor, sink, mirror and shelf. The perps have a strong obsession over cleaning things, creating the many messes that they do, so it would seem that being skyclad while doing so serves their human nonconsensual experimentation agenda.

Which reminded me of long ago, during the early months of the perps going berserk/overt stage, 04-2002, they encouraged me to wear nothing at all while I was in my apartment, blinds closed of course. Then in 2003, they had me doing this again (curtains closed), and arranged a knock on the door. I got quickly changed and answered it, and lo, if it wasn't a policeman, wondering if I heard or saw anything in the night that had to do with graffiti attack at the school next door. No, sir, I didn't, but I told him that I was out running at 2200h, and that I would of smelled the paint for sure. The policeman seemed certain that it happened after 0200h to 0400h of the following morning, and that was the end of it. And it was the end of any more skyclad lounging in my residence at anytime. And seeing that the perps are so intensely fixated on my clothes, their color, the amount of time that they are worn, when they get changed etc, I assume that being clothed is the most demanding state that they wanted to investigate, which they still do.

A long planned (three months) shower caddy fix failed; and so I ordered a new one, which is what I was planning to do in the first place, but somehow changed my mind. Looking for one in the stores with my perp abetting mother last weekend in the bigger city was plain dumb. She gets lost, changes directions, puts on the dumbshit act and limits my mobility in order to compromise my shopping methods and efforts. The local fix-it guy didn't want to take on modifying this shower head pipe mounted version, what I did not want, to an over the door hanging one. All begun by the bigger-city shopping visit and the one likely store that "happened" to be out of the kind of door hung shower caddies I was looking for.

Another all day strong wind, and a cool one too. It kept me inside, save one mighty gangstalked visit to the specialty grocery store. And to VV to dump off some trashed clothes, courtesy of of the Psychopathic Thems. In handing off the clothes, the woman who took my load of items came close enough to have the back of my hand parked where her L tit was. I usually get extra physical contact (fingers and hands) at checkouts when taking the receipt, but getting a breast-full is a significant escalation.

This grocery store has a 20% off day on the last Wednesday of the month, and they send me an email notice in advance. I usually go there after work to purchase food items, even if it is an overstaffed gangstalk and obstruction hell. This past week, the same deal, but instead of stopping by, the perps had me totally forget about it for at least two days after the fact. Like WTF; what is the perp's purpose in screwing me out of $12 of savings (based on today's purchases there)?

A nap-attack for 1.5 hours this afternoon, with the same caveat as always; I didn't need the sleep as I got plenty for the last two nights

One dream sequence I recall in the night; I was having tea with Hillary Clinton (of all people), and the perps totally scrambled me into pouring it, getting the right cup and at every possible task sequence. This would be the first time that the perps introduced this state of total mind-fuck into my dreams.

Now late Sunday, and I am going to get this posted and ponder another week of abusive tyranny.

Friday, September 20, 2013

Getting Worse

A week of few evening hours, so the daily entries are rather sparse. Not to mention I often get cognitively clobbered when I want to write up this blog, and all the supporting detail is purged from my recall at the moment I want to convey it to my readership.

Monday, and always a high perp Fuckover day, this one being memorable in that I am so trashed from yelling or screaming at the assholes all evening, which began brewing first thing I  got back from a vexatious day of filtering wine. The forced "forgets", the pulling items from my grasp, the screwing me out of knowing the next step or why I went to the fridge or a cupboard etc.

I had half my ususal sleep, but as always, I am never tired from this kind of physiological incursion. I was also fucked ragged with abuse in the morning.

On the winemaking as work front, the boss pulled a flip flop and directed me to do more filtration than was really needed. The owners needed to get out of town while the perps were harassing the living shit out of me, though I was careful not be loud as the Great White Bearded E. Indian was working in the vineyard on leaf pulling

Wine filtering can go wrong from at least  50 technical decisions; how hoses hook up, to which port, and whether they are male or female, what direction the wine is to travel etc. Not to mention the possibilities for mess, leaks, filter plugging and leaking etc. are myriad.

A phone call from the owners to direct the Great Bearded E. Indian elder, replete with scuzzy turban, to another part of the vineyard seemed reasonable at first. Then a vineyard helper arrived and needed to talk through the owner's plans, and the whole skit seemed to be about time wasting before escorting the E. Indian to a new work area.

Evening; I got skunked at the specialty foods seller; I went there for cooked chicken and more small tortillas and they had neither. Onto the supermarket, where they seemed prepared by augmenting the staff with skinheads and jamming up the checkouts. Then making dinner, and rage-fied at least 40 times, and we are talking screaming loud, now that they have me in a detached residence.

More wine filtration/vexation; many hasslesbut not  as bad as yesterday. Late hours again, and after work errands, including a new Rx had to be postponed. We are talking about yellow and white colored pills, and almost invariably the yellow vehicular gangstalking is increased then, which was true to form for the rest of the week, as it turned out.

The once sensation of feeling wasted after filtering or handling red wine has come upon me, and this hasn't happened for a very long time, 20 years. As it "happened" it did not re-occur later this week, even if doing the same activity.

I learned that plants have knowledge, a neurological system. Which might partly explain why the perps have me doing farm work, and hound me with vegetation bearing landscape maintenance vehicles; often cuttings, but sometimes live rooted plants. And here we are, in suburban land, cutting lawns once a week for the growing season, feeding the Great Perp Surveillance Machine; what are they after?

Wine filtration with lots of hassles, including when back and making dinner.

No wine filtration work thankfully, just cleaning up and back-flushing filters to try and get some more mileage out of them. A moderate level of harassment until after lunch with the wind starting up at that time and lasting the whole afternoon. I got onto after work errands for the first time in four days. one was the Rx refill, -keeping me off the white and yellow colored pills which seem to be so important to the assholes. The doctor put on her death-warmed-over greeting and later got smiley. No blood pressure test this time for whatever reason. She elicited more detail on when these medications were prescribed, and I mentioned ADD and the confirming SPECT scan of the Inattentive Subtype. Somehow, I "forgot" to mention that two shrinks and a neurologist blew me off on this diagnosis, and it was a doctor with ADD who got it right. I had been thinking about this all week, what was the history and how many doctors jerked my ass around, presumably at the perps behest, and "somehow" I forget to mention this key piece of determination in the face of (arranged IMHO) clinical adversity.

Same perp abuse fuckery all day long; forced dropping of items from my grasp, forced "forgets" on where I put something down, having me get imcomplete parts, scripting two or three jobs at a time with constant interuptions to attend to the next one.

Yet again, the vineyard owners needed to split town while I toiled in near constant vexation with filtering another batch of wine with inadequate equipment. The pump wouldn't pull 1.5m of suction head for crissakes, which meant that I had to transfer the wine to a shorter container. Which worked for awhile, then the pump stalled out again. The last 10L of wine was then transfered to a bucket which I held up high to create a gravity feed and eventually all 850L was filtered to one micron. That took three back-flushings of the cartridge filter, some six hours in all. Which meant that the pump had to be stopped, and a water hose attached to the discharge side of the filter to drive water backwards from the normal wine filter flow. A back-flushing took at least half an hour, so needless to say, I worked another late day.

And too, another missed yoga day this week. The perps just love to disrupt yoga attendance, and the more weeks they can put in sequence, the merrier they seem to be. Which begs the question, why do they want me to take yoga in the first place? Well, it would seem all those spine twistings and exertions and poses seem to fit the perp agenda to some extent, perhaps as etheric interactions with the body electric. No question yoga has been a total gangstalk show, from the Favored (cute instructors) to the Unfavored (large gutted male instructor with bald head and fugly oversized shorts), along with the tattoo-ed classmates doing their "see my tattoo" thing.

Last year, they even put on a woman instructor with a decided male bent and a rather commanding dictatorial nature for a few sessions. She didn't last more than three classes before they swapped her out with a woman who was more feminine (thankfully), though considerably overweight. Understand that I didn't have any personal issues with the first mentioned instructor; I did my poses as best as I could and always followed her instructions. And she was always friendly to me after class, as was I in return. BUT there was something about that interpersonal dynamic that the perps could read in me (by remote means, with of course, proximate biofield energies from the classmates/gangastalkers), that I did not knowingly like. Meaning, there was some kind of adverse psychic reaction I had to that instructor, be it appearance or her commanding syntax and tone of which I was consciously unaware, but found subconsciously perturbing. And the perps knew it, and had her start as my instructor when I re-started yoga last year, but she was rotated out after her assigned classes. Which begs the question, how did I come to find such a interpersonal nature subconsciously perturbing, and how did the perps know what my subconscious realtime reactions (abreactions) were? I am sure there is some answers to be found in the three years they wiped from my recall, aged 2 to 5, and it may have something to do with being sent to one or more military camps, as in the Indian Lake Project.

Today was the fourth day of the week that one or both of the vineyard owners "needed" to split while I was toiling doing wine filtering. And not forgetting that they scrambled me into "forgetting" what I was doing, whether I needed a female or male hose end ad infinitum,  and of course having me react to being mind-fucked into stupid, forgetful or senseless small acts, one after the other.

The Great Bearded E. Indian elder. ostensibly on vineyard leaf plucking on the S. side,  also did his hanging around too, pretending to be curious and exploiting the language barrier to the max. I was dispatched to relocate him from one section of the vineyard to another first thing this morning. Why the owners didn't do this as the E. Indian starts at 0600h when I start at 0700h is also mighty curious. But as this was the second time this week on this particular errand, and that the last time was fraught with all manner of delays and diversions by another party, all I can say is that it seems to be a big deal for the perps. Go figure; and the turban was way fugly, and as with nearly all head ornaments, much Unfavored.

A party of some six or so also wandered up the driveway, timing their arrival some ten minutes after the owners arrived. They knew the owner's name, so it wasn't a visiting troupe looking for work on spec, but close to it. Later, I learned the the male owner had two wisdom teeth removed AND a root canal in one dental visit today. Like WTF; who would be that rash to have all that done in one visit? But as it "happens", there have been other acquaintances in the long past who had wisdom teeth pulled for seeming trite reasons, so I am a somewhat circumspect as to why people are doing this so often. One had all four wisdom teeth pulled as a preventive measure should they need a root canal procedure in the future. Then he also refused root canals and had the tooth pulled instead. Plain stupid.

One time I went for a root canal at an endodontist (recommended to get the specialist to do it), and lo, if I wasn't held up by an emergency patient who needed a tooth pulled. It didn't take too long, but now that I see the trend of tooth pain being applied as some kind of pain biofield generator, it does make me wonder what the perps are up to.

That, and the recent "need" to pluck facial hairs, a habit that has been imposed on me since 01-2013. For the last few years it was these strange and sudden arrivals of hairs on my ears that I was plucking. Then the need to pluck chest hairs and now facial hairs has erupted. I thought it would be three or so a day per cheek, as that was about all the cheek hairs I was shaving off each day. But now that I started to pluck them out, why, the facial hair count has gone to some 6 per side per session, two sessions per day, meaning, 24/day. Like WTF; how did all these hairs suddenly start growing when I began to pluck them instead of shaving them? One location, a small divot, grew three stiff hairs in a week, all from the same pore. Not to mention the masers that come off the plucked hairs and follow the hair from face to tweezers to fingers to sink. And at least 20% of the plucked hairs somehow manage to get teleported back onto my face after I dispense with them in the sink AND I check my fingers and tweezers to make sure they didn't re-attach themselves somehow. Said teleported plucked hairs seem to arrive back where they came from, or else the next location where I am about to pluck the next hair. And there are other teleportational variants; they arrive back on the tweezers, my fingers and somehow make the leap from there to my face, effectively reversing their path. Once I saw the prior plucked hair arrive on my face and between the arms of the tweezers as I was about to pluck the next one. Normally the perps have teleportational objects arrive when my attention is diverted for an instant, but this once was an unmistakable arrival of a plucked hair between the tweezers, before the next tweezing.

Tonight's phone call from the First Feral Family came just when I was finishing off a tweezing session, and prolonging the duration that the tea was steeping. And have I mentioned past interruptions when the tea is steeping, or other color transitions, say from daylight to dusk to night? So many times that I have given up mentioning it any more.

I am off to visit the First Feral Family in Kamloops this weekend, so I will post this sooner rather than later.

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Lame Yoga

Why is yoga getting so lame? I thought Power Yoga was going to up the activity level, and it delivered for a few months with the darling pixie instructor. She departed for the summer and isn't coming back it seems. And the alternative and/or substitute instructors are slowing down the pace and doing less energetic and/or challenging poses, and today was another incremental step in that direction. There is no question the perps like to have me miss classes, usually more than one in succession. And they first encouraged twice per week, but eventually screwed me out of that so it is once per week now.

One of the substitutes, now instructing my usual Monday class is known to me from past classes, and he occasionally got substituted place of the pixie without notice. He is a skinheaded and large gutted male no less, and wearing those ridiculous baggy shorts to the knees, a male gangstalker special. So looking at this heap of Unfavored features isn't exactly a treat. Last year he would go to my Sunday class and pretend he was a student, when in fact he was an instructor at the time. There was no giveaway that he was an instructor as he didn't engage with the staff, and they likewise. It was only six months later that I found out that this heavy breathing student was in fact a staff member. So not only do they swap out the cute instructors but they also tone it down as to activity level, and play games with hiding the role of a male staff member.

I am not sure what to do about the arranged lamer-and-lamer yoga, though it seems I could take on gym work at my own pace, though it might not offer the maintenance of flexibility that yoga does. The last time I was in the gym in 2006-2007 was a total gangstalk show, and with plenty of herding dudes to keep me off certain equipment or else certain equipment would be out of order all too often. And then the pit-lamping vehicles would be arranged outside, and these dudes would stand around being totally dumbstruck, and pretending the black maser beams that would come through the wall and past by them were unseen. I don't know, because the perps can totally wind or physically make me near limp and make running a total chore within a half block of setting off. It just seems that the 11 year history of this abusive rut is that exercise is getting governed down and down despite the teasers.

A day of getting wine filtering equipment working, cleaned and configured, and not done soon enough to allow enough time to get filtering done in the day. But it was a good call from the boss not to proceed, as it would of run way late. Like yesterday, gloriously sunny and warm (30C), but for the most part I was inside. Like I have remarked in the past, my sunlight exposure, especially skin exposure, is highly governed and it is exceedingly rare that they allow two days in succession for tanning. They often crank on the skin cancer paranoia rationale if I don't like their other ideations.

The perps have been hammering me hard with harassment abuse this morning, and tonight too. I have been screaming at them and their new messed-up version of Picasa and/or Windows, as there was an upgrade yesterday. Importing photos just got to be a total pain in the ass, and Picasa will not show me the directories I wish to import to. I had to go search for the directories to find my just-imported photos. I have been through this ergonomically disfunctional mill before, and then Google seemed to fix the problem of not finding the ready-made directory, or creating a new one on the fly. Now, the perps seem to have played this game again, arranging adverse file import experiences. This time is was from two different cameras, for two separate individuals who both requested photos today. And lo, if Yahoo hasn't a new Attachment interface so I cannot see for sure if the photos got attached. Over twenty four years of Windows experience and here the assholes and their abetting agents cannot allow me to create a directory as needed for file importation. If I could get to a Linux box I surely would, though I am sure that the perps would sabotage that too. Back in the early harassment/abuse years, 2003 I had bought Suse Linux but they kept hacking the install from new discs, bought at the store in those days.

The perps started the morning with these horrid over-vivid dreams, and after allowing me to get up (late as it happened), they replayed them while I was awake. The theme in the dream was that it was permissible for me to be harassed in public because I was someone famous. Thanks, don't want it, never asked for it, in any of my own dreams or my own thoughts when awake. Then they also kept hammering with this god-awful male smell which was not coming from me directly. They finally relented when I took a shower. Though it does add credence to my theory of male sexual abusers during the years for which the perps deleted my recall when aged 2 to 5 (1956 to 1959), and current day harassment, such as this, is about them attempting to elicit abreactions. Not my problem, why am I involved in this without any consent whatsoever?

More of the WTF jerkarounds at work; the boss didn't want to start wine filtering yesterday at 1200h, saying it was too late in the day to start it. But that we could do it tomorrow. And so today, he says we cannot filter wine because he is leaving for Vancouver for five days. Like WTF; why didn't he tell me that yesterday and save the BS?

More convergence when I finally got to work outside with my shirt off doing the driveway power washing. I thought the cleaning lady had departed as I saw her driving her car. But no, ten minutes later she "pops back" to tell me something. Fine; I got set up. Then a few minutes later, a dude who I never seen before comes out of a red metallic maroon pickup and walks the last 120', and asks for the boss, as he is looking for grape picking work. I didn't see him last year on picking, so what was this all about? He says he will go back to the truck write down a phone number, which he does, while I continue with the power washing, and then take his paper into the house. Like WTF; he saw me in the driveway when he stopped his vehicle 120' away, so why didnt' he bring his phone number then? I have this convergence (of gangstalkers) stupidity erupt around me when taking off my shirt to do farm work, but this time they added in power washing into the mix, one of their very favorite harassment props.

And it seemed that the perps needed to have vehicles parked well away from me today, the red ones in particular. Though, the owners red metallic maroon Volvo was parked nearby as they took their black Jeep to Vancouver. The owner's son-in-law and daughter came by after the owner's departed, the seeming agreement on this family "feud" they are having, and came with a red metallic maroon pickup truck and a white trailer. Not that they needed the trailer, but anyhow, they parked it 200' away and walked in from there. They needed wine samples, so I later drew some red wine for them and bottled it. They were also doing grape sampling, so they had a legit reason to be walking around the vineyard. And later, the above mentioned dude in a red maroon pickup truck which also didn't want to drive in closer when it made perfect sense to do so. All rather strange, not to mention the cleaning lady finishing up at her usual 1300h, and the contract E. Indians strangely departing then too when they had another hour to work. All part of the ongoing farce it would seem, entrances and exits and same colored vehicles in three of the five ones that were 'fluxing about".

Other perp excitement, hence the elevated abuse tonight, is that I got a parcel from an online purchase today, containing one pair of shorts and two shirts. No cardboard wrapping as these clothing items were soft. All of the items are to replace some of the sabotaged clothing I noted in last week's blog posting, some of them pictured. Two shirts were of the same manufacturer, style and fabric. Though by way of the online choices, I ended up with a L, and a XL, the latter color's only option. After trying them on, the L fits fine, so I will need to get the XL altered to the same size. What is the fucking point of jerking me through this as to shirt size, as it has happened so many times before? It would seem in part that they want to have their own fabric sample, though oddly, one color and not the other.

And when using the stitch ripper to remove the sewn in pad in the cycle shorts (in above mentioned parcel), why, the perps put a 1/2" hole in them. Into the trash they went, and it wouldn't be the first time that attempted modification, per planted ideations, are then sabotaged.

At least 30 rage-fications this evening, the perps doing things like putting items from my grasp, sending me to the wrong cupboard/drawer, not allowing an item/switch to be turned on or off by pulling my fingers off of it just before it is to actuate, and like insane abusive fuckery. The fart games were ramped up, and at one moment they were farting and burping me at the same instant.

And pains in my TMJ/jaw joint suddenly come on while stepping outside, turning a corner, passing through a doorway etc. all perp fuckover moments for extra noise, abuse gangstalker weirdness etc.

Saturday, and the usual day of frontal and arm shaving,in conjunction with rage-ifying me for next public event of visiting the Penticton Gangstalk Market (read, below).  (Rage-fying me by sending me to the wrong cupboard, flipping food from countertop to sink, pulling items from my grasp,  -there is a reason they put me in a detached dwelling again, so I can scream and otherwise vociferously object to this constant stream of insults and assaults.)

More jaw pains at the usual perp events; turning a corner (driving), paying for items, getting in or out of my vehicle etc.  Again, the anisotropic properties of the ether seem to be all important; e.g. changing direction, as in different properties in different directions.

On the public side, the Penticton Farmers Market gangstalking was stepped up; the meandering masses seem to be able to block my egress and not apparently (in conventional terms) know that I am striding behind them, sometimes with an extra obvious male tail on my ass. Then there was the sit-back Fuckwit, just "happening" to be tailing me and then showing up (standing there dumbstruck behind his shades at 0900h) 4' behind me when I was making a purchase. Then there was the crowd scene at each stall I wanted to go to; the maple syrup vendor, the jalapena pepper vendor of last time, which relented some when I was making my return in the opposite direction. Unlike two visits ago, there were no motorcycles "mistakenly" driving past two "Do Not Enter, Street Blocked for Event" signs 20' apart and then finally turning around in the middle of an intersection with pedestrians milling all around them. And no less, they were on the wrong side of the road while pulling off this incredible vehicular bozo act (pretense that is, as NOTHING is not organized around me). Oddly, the farmer market volunteers didn't seem to be around to corall the "errant" motorcycles. And have we not had enough of runaway vehicles driving into public street functions and killing innocent citizens? No siree... going by the media stories, the perps seem to need more of these "interactions" especially with blood samples from dying foreign citizens.

Earlier today, I got nailed for a two hour nap attack after having tea and two 100g chocolate bars and cleaning the dishes. The fourth lawnmower eruption of the day accompanied my lying down, yet another anisotropic consideration for the perps. I have often experience noise assaults, plasma flashes and rage-fication jerkarounds whenever going to bed or getting out. As nearly always, there was no sleep deficit prior to the nap, and no causal event (only a mild hike for 1.5 hours) that could of conventionally accounted for the napping "need".

And the hike was perp Fuckover stunt too. The weather is to turn rainy after this weekend, and so I decided to get a sunny hike in for today, Saturday. And of course, get some tanning in as well. But no as it happened; not only did the atmospheric haze come on today for the first time in a week of sunny weather, but also high cloud came on. And that wasn't enough; when tanning at the hiking destination, why, a cloud got pulled in front of the sun after 10 minutes, ending tanning possibilites.

And too, not allowing tanning during this past week of sunny and warm weather seemed to be a major perp priority. I had inside activities to attend to, and then others where wearing pants and a shirt was advisable (prickly weeds), and so by Friday (yesterday), I had a whole 20 minutes of leg tanning time working in the vineyard before I had to attend to end-of-day tasks. These also got changed around, as landscape plant watering was to be done then, and not in the morning when that was the established routine.

And too, that served to act as a foil/victim for another perp stunt; blame the victim, no matter how tenuous the evidence. I was to sweep and power wash the driveway, which I did, as there was a person to come to apply sealer the next day (Thursday, 09-12-2013). Said person didn't come all day, so I cleaned the hose and walked on the concrete surface to water the landscape plants, making sure I didn't add any mess or gravel. A small amount of unavoidable hose leakage,about 2sq. ft., occured at the end of the day, but I left it there as I assumed the person wasn't going to be doing sealing. As I didn't want to re-clean the hose if I needed it the next day for watering chores, I left it on the driveway.

Yesterday morning, the boss phones me to say that the person who was to seal the driveway complained of the water on it and that the hose was left on the driveway. Not only did this person time his apparent arrival within 30 min. of me leaving as the water would of evaporated on the hot surface by then, but used this as an excuse for not undertaking the sealing job. I explained the details of the water as it could of been brushed off and evaporated within 15  min.  And I also explained that it would of taken a whole 20 seconds to remove the hose from the driveway if the person had been serious as to undertaking the concrete sealing job then. Anyhow, here we have two lame-assed/contrived excuses meant to impugn the victim (me) over impairing the start of a concrete sealing job, and hearing this third hand, and not from the person directly. I have worked with this person last year, and found him to be a dedicated worker who does not shirk responsibility. Not only are the lame excuses out of character, but the adroit timing at day end when I wasn't there was too convenient. What is the point of this petty dumb-assed skit; for the concrete sealing person to earn "asshole-cred" indirectly and drop a considerable notch in my estimation of his character, or was it to needle-the-victim (again) with a tenuous accusation? Probably both in Perp World, as I have suffered these sudden behavioral transitions (always for the worse) from others in the past. And impugning the TI victim with false or tenuous accusations seems to be an important perp jerkaround tactic. So then, does this person knowingly sign up with the Perps to earn "asshole credibility" after seeming to be somebody for which this is out of character? I just don't get it, as to why rational people suddenly take a turn for the worse. This time it is through an intermediary, and not directly, so maybe the "cowards way" is an optional feature after signing up for an inexplicable behavior lapse, aka earning jerk credentials. And I note this person got a new metallic finish maroon red pickup truck which he liked to inexplicably park next to my vehicle (both Toyota) and block the driveway while doing so.

Another perp favorite noise to hound me with over the hike was with what I call the Faux Squash Ball Popping Noise. This particular noise erupted in 2006 when they had me in a rooming house near a squash court. The popping noise, seemingly from the ball hitting the wall, wasn't very representative IMHO, as I have played squash in the past, and the ball made quite a different noise. Also, they would occasionally put on a real squash ball game, and the noise was quite different. The muffled popping noise was also arranged at the next residence where I lived for 4 years, six stories up and nowhere near a squash court. And in the vineyard context, the noise emulates (poorly though), propane cannons that are to scare birds off. Except that there are so many, one on top of another at the same volume level, there is no way this is possible. I suspect the noise of other perp events, say war time artillery, are being mapped to my own noise history (managed by Them of course), and they needed this noise while I was outside in the woods. And as they play motorcycle noise, tractor noise, aircraft noise all the time on past visitations to this hiking location, why should I be surprised they are still at it for a new location. And as I type this up, the droning single engine propeller aircraft noise makes repeated passes.

A stand-off over tanning outside again; the cloud got moved in to block the sun and the suburban residential noise progression started up. There was dieselling, lawnmowers, coughing, overhead aircraft making repeated passes, one jet aircraft, and especially notable was the noise increase when I turned over or else took off my glasses. I later tried to read with them on but the perps added a yellow tinge to all the letters in the book.

Enough events for a week, and onto the next.

Sunday, September 08, 2013

One Hour Earlier

The perps set my alarm clock one hour earlier in the night and I got up at 0400h instead of 0500h. I did all my morning routine, and it was 1.25 hours later that I pondered why it was so dark out, looked at the clock, and saw that I got snookered again. All this is doable as the stove clock is on the fritz (since I moved in) and cannot be altered. And of course getting a replacement clock is a task that just never seems to get done.

As I write this, the landlord has taken on major gardening duties outside my window and is seriously  hacking at the adjacent hedge with a gasoline powered hedging machine. Not only do I get the noise, but also his visage on a ladder and those ridiculously baggy Penticton shorts to the knee. The perps cannot get enough of males in ridiculous shorts, and will even run this act in wintertime. But for some reason the perps won't let me run gasoline powered tools, having the brother's chainsaw die just after it had come from the shop was a signature perp stunt. Even he couldn't get it going, as he could previously and I couldn't.

And thunderstorms all this morning until 1300h, keeping me inside to do chores instead of thinning vines. Not only that, but the perps managed to screw me out of having my raincoat in my equipment bag, and ensured I could not last with pelting rain.

As I write the landlord is busy immediately outside, doing grounds maintenance and putzing with the internet cable as well as occasionally bashing the wall. he was busy outside yesterday evening doing hedging, and pulled out three large (7') plants out today, and is now busy attending to something on the E, N and S sides, moving about as the job requires. And he in doing so, he has displaced my garbage can, and the styrofoam and cardboard beside it, the latter ready for tomorrow's recycle garbage tomorrow. I thought one's garbage was private.

A busy perp afternoon it seems, and they "groomed" me at the vineyard on diesel tank examining diversions, some wood drilling, all to get screwed into putting the holes in the wrong place. Then onto one of their favorite assignments, related to water transmission, the last two hours spent cutting, sanding and gluing PVC pipe in 4" and 1/2". Those primer and glue fumes seemed to find me more often than not. And I see three threaded 4" pipe caps went missing in the last week, and the owner got the very type I told him not to get. All that PVC and chemical ether perturbation got me extra helicopter coverage, hoarse muffler noise, and HD motorcycle noise. After leaving the jobsite, I had my greyscale colored escort of four vehicles ahead of me, one being from the adjacent vineyard, and in whose truck I caught a few rides from on field trips on the viticulture course the owner taught last year. Then a black SUV joined the train when he turned off. Other vehicular clustering games, and freaks too, as I had to go to the LD store as the perps ran me out of bar soap and screwed me out of getting new stock. LD was busy with gangstalkers, and had one posted at each of the three locations I had to visit. And back on the chocolate again, after I thought I had "kicked" (read, imposed need) the habit a few months ago. Or more like, my habit governance manager decided that 11+ years of chocolate "habituation" wasn't enough, so back on it, especially when they are bringing on the chocolate brown gangstalking vehicles like today. Then at the checkout, where there was a tarrying person who knew the cashier, then the woman behind me was doing back and forths, and a male, possibly her spouse, was standing 10' opposite at the exit side in dark glasses, a fedora and dressed in green for crissakes. (Twenty dollar bills are in green here, hmmm).

Then to the deli where I got tapenade, a daily staple item that is suddenly getting more difficult to find, and for once, no stalkers there. (Two visits ago, the clerk elbowed me in the gut and didn't apologize or anything). Then to downtown to the optician to get my new eyeglass frames with my old lenses so I have a back-up pair. Then with a red lined eyeglasses case in hand (tossed once I got home), I get the Unfavored street show, featuring red colors. A freak male in long hair and a red hat and jacket outside the optician, then a few blocks away, a skateboarder in a red cap, and at least two more pedestrian red clothing shows before I got parked.

And I see that the parking area got swept with the landscape trimmings/cuttings of the substantial bushes the landlord took out. I don't know why the perps are so uppity today, but I am sure the above mentioned PVC pipe work, which had been interrupted in mid-job at least three months ago as the fittings (one primed and glued) was found not to fit the pipe. It was a fitting for the "bell" (or flared) end of the pipe, a first time ever that I have encountered a special fitting for it, and of course it didn't fit the straight wall pipe, the only kind that until then, had fittings for it. And of course the pipe supplier didn't mention anything at the counter.

And as the perps have a special fixation over filters of all kinds, and these PVC tubes being for storing wine filter cartridges, why, it best to prolong the job with myriad interruptions, especially doable when understaffed by 30%. 

Friday at long last, and on-off rain all day, the perps adroitly dumping last night's rainfall into my boot from a plastic tarp and then later getting me wet from dripping foliage after "forgetting" me about wearing my raincoat, and later again with cleaning activity with house water. Another diversion project followed to fill two jerry cans full of diesel from the tank, and a later diesel delivery service from a fuel tanker. They also spilled diesel fuel on my blue rubber gloves to force extra contact time. Over the day they forced another three glove changes, as disposable ones are now hell to get back on.

Later, onto the wine filter project where the owner unknowingly pulled a major design change, though for the better. I don't think he remembered the first design of all rigid pipe connection to three filters in series. I then asked him to ponder the need for valves each side of the filter but he wasn't going to do that. Anyhow, this topic is way too technical for a TI blog.

Yoga tonight, and it was me and about 12 other women, with two attractive ones arranged behind me, and a young girl, maybe 16, to my L. And NO TATTOOs; simply amazing. Last week's next neighbor mat lead me out the door tonight, she heading for her red car. Recall that she was posted 1' from my vehicle at this same post-yoga juncture last week, as I was slowly departing as her red car was WAY to close. She was talking to motorcyclists across the parking lot, on... you guessed it, red motorcycles. Maybe it was the red-to-red continuity the perps wanted, whatever that would mean to them. And the fire department also aided the perp's yoga fixation by running their trucks on a supposed emergency past the yoga studio, and putting on those funky 1950's style sirens. And too, it served as an excuse for red light flashes across the ceiling that came through the high windows. This city of 30k is getting more siren-prone from a few months ago; following the trend of the last city I lived in that was very siren prone, and many of them not turning out to be any determinable conventional source whenever I went to the window and looked for a source. The perps like to do that a lot; have me retain vigilance as to whether a poke, jab, noise, mishap or other incursion is of conventional cause or is their extra-conventional tele-abusive fuckery.

And I another perp-arranged Mexican stand-off in progress, this time between a new replacement charge card, and a pending charge. That is, the card arrived Aug. 30, Friday before Labor Day weekend. I held off on activating it as the charge card system gets delayed over weekends. I put an order in for some outdoors gear Sept. 01, and wasn't planning to to activate the new card until the transaction was posted. And lo, if the outdoor gear supplier hasn't yet posted the transaction, taking a whole week nearly, keeping the replacement card sitting on my desk all the time, at the ready to activate it. And as the perps are so bent out of shape over my wallet contents, the addition of cards, and anything else that it may contain, I can only assume that this is another managed delay/obstruction stunt over what my wallet is to contain. Exciting moments in perp fuckery, 11+ years later

Another perp gong-stalk show at the ATM again. First the dude surge/confluence of some six of them heading into the entrance ahead of me, or else exiting (no females), which is a large number for a small town and a mall based bank. I was expecting a line at the ATM, but no, they were all backed up at the teller wait line. Before that though, and once past the vehicular clusterfuck at the mall entrance, they put on a red pickup with a 22' fifth wheel camper, "happening" to be driving through the strangely cleared parking lot outside the bank. Like WTF; what buffoon would take that rig into a mall parking lot and expect to find a parking location, except if it was pre-arranged to have the necessary clearance?

And in retrospect, no surprise as the perps have been heavy of late with vehicular stalking with campers, trailers and motorhomes and park them on the street, even on this post Labor Day September weekend. Which takes me back to 04-2002, the weekend prior to the Day of Infamy when they assaulted me with flashes, beams, lights and all manner of debilitating technics. I was at the house of Ms. C, the supposed then-girlfriend (aka full blown operative), and there was three motorhomes parked near her place along with plenty of extra vehicles. I asked her why suburban Everett WA was now a motorhome center in April, and I got some blow-off excuse. So what is it about motorhomes and campers that so fascinates the perps? As they are consumed with all things of daily living, especially elimination of wastes, why, it suits them perfectly to have this all mobile, and any interaction energies with the immediate environment (say a campsite; trees, ground, soil) can be whisked away as soon as the camper is pulled away. Or, at least, that is my theory; one would think that having mobile living quarters would offer the perps considerable advantages over houses at fixed locations, but here we are after some 11 years of sustained abuse, which includes sabotaging my toilet (with solids) most every time, and they are still putzing around with the color brown, and still only rarely and after considerable "warm up" with other colors, will introduce a brown vehicle for me to see.

Saturday, and an appointment for a facial skin analysis which seemed to fluster the person who talked me into it last week. Somebody or something got to her in advance of me, and it was the first appointment of the day. Anyhow, this managed parade was only 15 minutes, but they did shine a black light on my face as part of the event.

But what was with the dufuses standing around on the sidewalks, or 20' back from the sidewalk, looking so dumbstruck this morning? At least four stand-arounds, even one straddling a bicycle for crissakes, on my five minute city drive to my morning appointment. Come to think of it, this was the first chest hair shaving I have done for at least three month, as I had been waxing or plucking. The latter got real tired, especially when the hairs could strangely slip between the tweezer grips, so I reverted to chest hair shaving, something I had been doing daily until the waxing "urge" (read, imposed need) came on. That got too painful to stick with, so I decided to do weekly chest hair shaving.

Sunday, and a quiet one, save one gangstalked outing to go shopping for essential items. It seemed the big deal to have "convergence" and "converging confluence". When I was in the parking lot and parking, why, two other vehicles were doing exactly the same thing with the same timing. One of the drivers tailed me into the LD store. And two parties of Fuckwit leaving through the entrance door, one each set, both of them holding up my entering egress momentarily. A converging surge of three gangstalkers was created when I was in the LD store, just as I picked up a six pack of face cloths. They were in parallel in the aisles with one crossing in front of them. There is nothing that gets my attention faster that these Fuckwits, who appear to be independent at first, converging into a group. And the perps know it, and put this skit on at least five times a week. The second convergence was when I was at the cashier, and having just finished up, I wanted to cross the storefront to get to my exit. Not allowed; at least four of them, again appearing independently, and walking parallel though not abreast, stalled me out as they were timed to get in my way.

And my farmworker colleague from the last city phoned for 40 min. last night. The usual disjunct rambling tale, and just when there is some conversational meat to reply to, she demurs and doesn't want to get into it. All the while my tea was steeping, and that was a tip off of it being an arranged event, as the perps still have some difficulty with these slow color transitions (in a glass pot). My perp-abetting mother would often phone at these moments, and at the last residence, the sirens would go off too. And the usual suggestive statement from the farmworker collegue; "when you come to Victoria and if you need a place to stay...". As usual, the perps play this one in mind for the next three days, when in the past it has amounted to nothing and I prefer it that way. I haven't quite figured out why she tells me the "sex is fantastic", as this would be the second such time in the past year or so. What am I supposed to do some 500km away? As mentioned in past postings, I have not yet figured out if she is a full blown operative or else a luckless shill. Most shills do their script/interaction and aren't heard of again except to note that they landed in clover some how, or else have a new car, house, etc. This one is "sticky", calls me in being extra friendly, though I am not on her confidant list given all the drama I hear long after the fact. And still she hasn't got a decent paying gig despite a nine months of landscape training last year. That she copycats me at my former or future jobsites hasn't gone unnoticed either. I cannot figure this one out owing to the longevity of contact and the luckless career trajectory, before I met her and since. She is most adroit about avoiding inquiry about the harassment and how I am really doing, every time. All her talk about Budda practice doesn't seem to guide her very much. She is way too "sticky" and just cannot get aligned work wise. Could be a prior operative in morphover, or maybe the perps went all out for a dysfunctional shill with a much longer term carrot dangling in front.

Recent clothing damage pics as promised; at least six items in the past three months.

 My one green shirt, and these orange marks arrive one day; off to Value Village it went.
 Then they attacked the cotton duvet cover, which hadn't been laundered at all.
 Then this polyester fabric shirt with the color in the threads and somehow it developed these near-colorless smears in the fabric itself. I am not sure the color variation games they also did months earlier are detectable in this full sunlight photo.

 Same pair of shorts, the pilling happening in the washing machine as I hang dry all my synthetic fabrics. The short aren't a year old. Then a week later when the four dots in a square plus another mark arrived before yoga, and before laundering for the week, the perps seemed to want me to know it has nothing to do with laundering at all, which is what I figured anyhow.

There were at least two more garments, but I think you get the point.

Anyhow, I shall post this for the weekend lest this turn into a perpetually unpublished posting.

Tuesday, September 03, 2013

Gone Domestic

The city-wide triathalon race (Penticton Challenge) forced me to take alternate routes to alternate stores, one being the Perpland called Walmart where I was nearly head-butted by a purported staff member a few months ago. I bought a food processor (different store) and a vacuum cleaner (Walmart) based on the cleaning lady's advice,. I also had to cross the race course under the guidance of the volunteer to access the ATM. Hmm, hounded for 11 years over every financial transaction I make and the color of my money in my wallet, and so I get to cross a street that some 1400 triathalon participants (bike course at the time) have passed by. Can we say planned gangstalking event any more louder?

And so I got busy making a number of freezer foods as I had a surplus of cucumbers, zucchinis and tomatoes on hand. And too, my triathalon participating brother, made sure to gobble up some of my salad that had been prepared by the said food processor, as I was eating with him and his family before race day. The deal was that I was to bring my own food to their motel room as they didn't have enough, so what I brought was for me alone, at least in theory. But no, and without asking, he helps himself to my just-made (by the new food processor) cucumber chicken salad. And with these members of the First Feral Family actively abetting the perp's objectives, and with 11 years of the perps hounding me over what knives and cutting utensils I use, why was I so surprised he hogged down my food when he had his plate full?

And lo, if the FFF didn't "happpen" to be in the neighborhood of my vineyard work site near the end of the work day, and I gave them a tour around. As in FFF gangstalking my place of work.

Then a "free" ticket to the triathalon awards ceremony for volunteers, athletes and family, where there was no end of assholes parading behind my back. Chairs not belonging to any tables were ringed around our table, and one was placed as a choke point where all the gangstalkers took a large step over the seat. Like WTF; none of them moved the chair out of the way? Then when the prize winners started to loiter around me with their thick plexiglas plaques, it was time do my "goodbyes" and get the fuck out. Even that wasn't good enough as a male gangstalker tailed me out, and to his car some 80' away from mine, and then tailed me for my first third of the way home. I don't do crowds on first principle as part of this obscene harassment, and "somehow" I forgot this very elementary precaution.

A day of vineyard work; another indeterminate weather day, mostly cloudy. Though the rain started enough to make me get my raincoat and return to work, and lo, if the rain didn't stop within 20 minutes and cause me to be wearing the Goretex (read, Teflon) coat for the next 2 hours. The perps just love that Goretex fix; wear it for a time, and then have me to take it off. All pants wearing today, no shorts, and with the new knee-pads the perps are so keen about, possibly because it has a dash of red on the label. And I see that these knee-pads "somehow" came with two L side knee pad inserts (foam part) while the fabric was sewn as a L-R pair. Funny how these things "happen" to me with such increased consistency since the Day of Infamy, when they went berserk/overt in my Seattle apartment 04-2002.

A leg wax after work; with a prior stop over at the house to change up my clothes first, as I didn't want to be caught in my short shorts. Running late is always a fun time for the perps to arrange extra adversity.

I don't know why the perps like me to pluck body hair, but they have increased the "need" to pluck the odd hairs from my cheeks instead of shaving them off. Seemed like a more permanent solution at the time. But lo, if they didn't increase the incidence of seeming errant hairs on my cheeks by at least ten fold. I can now count on plucking some 20 to 30 hairs out of my cheeks, not counting the beard region EACH DAY now. I am invaded to every last pore and cell I figure. And plucked hairs that are flicked off the tweezers and into the sink most often teleport back to my face, and to the location near where I am going to pluck the next hair. Once, I saw the prior plucked hair arrive between the tweezer tips as I was about to pull on the next one. And too, blackish masers and other magnetic field oddities erupt around just plucked hair or else the tweezers or my fingers that hold them.

And in the last half hour of this Friday workday, why cat shit/litter box ended up on knee pads and boots at 1530h. That was enough to get me infuriated and riled up and set me to for the next exercise of high perp interest, getting my old eyeglass frames back and my new lenses put in them, which was the original plan until the optician somehow broke the frames last week. All this juggling with my old frames while he had the two progressive frames and swapped lenses for 40 min. begat me these strange internal head sensations each time I stepped out of the store, both with the old (non-progressive ones) and the new lenses in the old, now repaired frames. The same strange sensation came on last week when I put on my prescription swim goggles for the first time in 10 years. Just what are the perps doing to my visual cortex when I swap eyeglasses?

A two tone olive drab (ridiculous combination of shirt and shorts) dressed woman was hanging around at the opticians when I got my first pair of glasses on and a child was posted at the seat at the door, with her spine extended straight and slouched down. I thought the child belonged to the woman, but no. I had gone to the LD store across town to look around and attend to sending a letter by snail mail to wait out the 40 min. before the glasses were ready. And lo, if the two tone olive drab dressed woman doesn't appear in the very section I was at, looking over shampoos. She was doing the "look elsewhere" oblivious act in this blatant obvious gangstalking, and without the child. Convenient that, and no coincidence in "finding" me at the very location I was waiting out the turnaround time before the eyeglasses were ready. And a full-on vehicular gangstalking through all of this wait time as well. There is something about eyeglasses the perps need to find out, and sending the frames away for a week to get fixed wasn't enough.

Then onto yoga, and in some kind of set up, the rest of the class wanted to do headstands against the wall at the end. As I don't usually go Fridays, I didn't have a lot to say about it. And lo, if I didn't somehow crash against the wall and tumble down, thankfully with no injuries.

About 10 min. before class end I hear the god-forsaken HD motorcycle noise outside and I didn't think anything more of it as this particularly infernal racket has become a constant wherever I go now. And then when I exit after class, why, two HD motorcycles are outside some 50' away, and one rider is engaging my mat neighbor as to where a certain business is located. Like WTF; why did the HD riding Fuckwits sit outside a certain yoga studio for ten minutes to then talk to members of the class when they could of entered the building and talked to the desk attendant? And my mat neighbor was in a red top, and her red car was parked unusually close to mine, and so I departed slowly while she was standing talking to the HD motorcyclist, serving as a stationary human next to my moving vehicle, red against red. Can it get more obvious than this? Always.

I ended up laundering my knee pads at the laundromat last night, getting part of the forced mess cleaned up. The usual gangstalking dreck there, this time featuring doddering elder-males in ridiculous shorts and spindly legs. Ugh, as in most Unfavored.

Then when outside my residence cleaning the cat shit off boots, the dude yap starts up, and stays that way while repeated aircraft turns overhead, same noisy single engine aircraft. Dude yapping background noise is most prevalent of late, say, the past three weeks.

More on the farm worker colleague in Victoria; a "Love you" valediction (closing) to her email, following the last few with "Miss you". Correct me if I am wrong or mistaken, but these would suggest intimacy which is NOT the case at all. Especially from 500km away, and no revealing pics of any kind in either direction. The last time I saw her was in 01-2013, and as mentioned in a recent posting, the perps put on a military vehicle escort, overhead helicopters and a mid-day traffic jam enroute to visit. (All clothes stayed on all the time, and nothing suggestive crossed any one's lips or was otherwise inferred).

Another round of rage-ification when using the new food processor. Not forgetting that it was last weekend that I purchased it and put it to use, and then took the salad I made in it to my brother's motel suite and had dinner with him and his family, pre-race (triathalon) dinner. And of course he jumped on it and helped himself when it was intended for me alone as I was bringing my own dinner, per prior agreement. So... he got to eat the food I cut and chopped with the new food processor, and we know how rabid the perps are over my use of cutlery and the act of cutting food, be it plant or animal.

The ear-ringing started up again; all week it has slowly got less, but then they added these ear pressure stunts (swimmer's ear) that were not defeatable by conventional means. And it seems likely that the worsening ear pressure after swimming in a pool at regular swim practice must of been the perps at work. Just imagine, they could detect the presence of ear pressure by remote means, even before they went berserk/overt in 2001.

Chevron fill up of gasoline, replete with HD motorcyclists at the next pump having a jawing session for me to overhear again. Relentless dudes babbling of late; gasoline filling, outside my residence, at the ATM etc. And the wretched Chevron gasoline pump did not give me a receipt again, now for the fourth consecutive fueling, all different pumps. Just fucking insane, and all to piss me off at the moment of post-fueling and transaction processing.

hiking; attempted what I thought was going to be a high bluff, some 200m tall, and had the hiking book and lo, if the trail didn't go up this high bluff, but only one of 30m or so. I had my hiking-stalking party with me, a family of four and a dog, and the kids running ahead and back again, though thankfully this ended when I took my bluff route. I did related trail discovery, ending up at a private trail system, and then retreating to the look-out. Unbelievably no one tailed me, and I even had an hour of tanning time with unclouded sunshine, though with some haze in the air for a generalized dimming. The cloud-over-sun games have almost become predictable over the past two weeks, and unfettered sunshine (apart from a general haze) was a welcome relief. And no gangstallkers while trail discovering and tanning; this would be about the third time in 11 years of hounding me that they backed off on gangstalking.

Some purchases at the organic farm begat making green salsa with tomatillas tonight with the food processor. Yet again the perps befuddled me enough to have me rage-ified. Not the hissing spitting kind, when I have neighbors each side and below, but in this detached nanny suite. There was a reason for this residence beginning in June, and that was to get me back to a full blown rage-fication state. (Frequent and continuous). But of course while screaming at the assholes for pulling food or implements from my hands, or teleporting onion skins from the garbage back onto the counter top after cleaning it as two examples, they also suck the air out of my lungs while yelling at these abusive telekinetic incursions so to unexpectedly moderate the volume of my scathing rejoinders. Which then prompts another yelling at the assholes for sucking the air from my diaphram; and so it goes. Last weekend's acquisition of a food processor has brought on all kinds of new abuse, like having me turn the work bowl the wrong way each successive time. (It is real simple, just like a turning a nut; right to tight, left to release. But am I allowed to know that with a new kitchen implement? No-sir-ee; we need the victim to get screaming infuriated yet again, and besides, any new tool or machine activity is "cause" for extra abusive incursions).

A hike, using a guide book, and finding myself at the planned objective even if I didn't think it was. Talk about FUD-ed.

I got onto sharpening my pruners immediately after my hike; it seems the perps wanted me to do this while my hiking boots were on and before dinner. As always, pre-mealtimes are high harassment and key activity moments for the Thems. 

More facial hair plucking of late; I thought I was  going to deal with the six or so per side that I shaved off each morning, and save shaving them each day. I am now getting new facial hairs to replace those every day now, some 10 to 15 hairs per side of my face each day in this ever escalating game. I even get new hairs to pluck on my cheeks that somehow arrive after I have ensured that I got them all. They arrive without feeling anything, and always when examining the other side of my face to find them when I return to look. Another stunt that is occuring with almost-every-time regularity is that the just-plucked facial hair, after being deposited in the sink, somehow arrives back at the next site where I am going to pluck the next one. I have even seen the prior plucked hair arrive between the tweezers as I about to close in on getting the next one. As before, hair plucking is accompanied my masers that lift off from the hair and float with it into the sink and then dissipate.

Be-labor Day it should be for TI's, as in the verb; to explain, worry about, or work at (something) repeatedly or more than is necessary. As in getting forced into doing tasks more than once and have accomplishments sabotaged repeatedly. Competence is not allowed in Perpland.

A full on screaming rage at the perp for creating a forced fumble of my eyglasses with new lenses in them across the bathroom tile floor. As they have fucked every pair of glasses I have had for 40 years, I expected the worst, as they exploit such occasions to damage things. So far, and no night-time sabotage yet, no scuffs of other damage to my lenses or frame; talk about managed miracles.

And a shut-in day effectively, working hard to with the new vacuum cleaner and then getting hit with a 2.5 hour nap attack. And no, I don't see this as a compensation for the perps keeping me up for most of the night and treating me to doctors in my two hour sleep they permitted.