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.

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