Monday, December 09, 2013

Gangstalk Capital of Canada

That would be where I am, Victoria, British Columbia, having flown here yesterday for visiting the First Feral Family, the quisling sick asses that abet the perps at every moment, as/when needed. Or, as it seems, perhaps the Clusterfuck Capital of Canada, the arranged confluences of ambulatory gangstalkers who cluster around me to keep me in place for a few extra seconds. Ditto with vehicles.

And what a  mighty gangstalking it was at this moment, 1600h or so, dusk time. This is when the perps go particularly nuts with showing me red and yellow colors, both of which are very Unfavored. Not to mention the "stand arounds", mostly biddies and adult males, also both Unfavored. And of course they put on the blonde babe with doe eyes to get my attention (3x in the store), and they immediately switch me to a skinheaded male (2x Unfavored) passing nearby. Then these weirds which stalked me at the small specialty grocery store then "show up" at my next stop, the ever cooperating LD store (a chain of them). That was enough to send me out of there, but of course I got held up by the prior customer at the checkout, and just when I wanted to exit, why, a swarm of three were doing their hindering thing at the door. Only the blonde babe (different one) matched my walking speed. Then the walk-directly-at-me stunt, without benefit of manners of any kind, let alone eye contact. Like WTF; who in hell walks in a busy public area without checking out where they are going?

The waxing urge came on too, having got it done earlier this afternoon. I won't say where, but for the first time, the clinician was in her vegetable garden and had a bunch of chives in her hand when leading me into her suburban basement studio. That and her black and white houndstooth patterned coat to her mid-calf. Not exactly gardening garb.

And a whole lot of eating brown colored cookies too, another "urge" that came on, largely because they were abundant at this First Feral Family house.

No chocolate allowed at the LD store visitation; the shopping baskets weren't to be found, and that made it problematic to carry the items to the cashier. Therefore, only shaving foam and for some strange reason, scar abatement product. I don't have any scars to treat, so what is this about? And if you follow the perp habits, they like me to buy items months, if not a year or more in advance of needing it. My sleeping matress in Penticton was purchased a year in advance of sleeping on it, as the former four residences all supplied a bed. (Two were winter time rate motels, and two were supplied by the landladies). Same for the cot; given to me by the farmer colleague, and unused until 06-2013). I have a pair of steel toed work boots since 2008, that I "needed" for upcoming construction work that never materialized, and they remain unworn still.

Back to the above mentioned LD gangstalk scene. Recall that the perps skunked me earlier this week at the LD store in Penticton with five gangstalkers and a stocking/stalking cart (replete with brown boxes), that now ubiquitous prop in almost every store. And in true LD store staffing style, one checkout open when there are eight of them, and all to confine me to the obstructing line up and have the customer behind me nearly up my asshole.

And arranged breakage of a French press style coffee pot at the FFF house; it somehow fell from the top shelf as I opened the door and landed on a cookie sheet with a projecting edge. Said pot was in a ridiculous plastic sheath/cover, and somehow the small amount (1/2" of 10") exposed glass fell onto the edge and pieces of borosilicate glass managed to find their way under the stove, and even some small glass in the oven dried raisins that were on the cookie sheet. And have I remarked on how the perps are fixated on grapes, raisins, wine and all manifestations of Vitus vinifera (grapes)? Even to the point of having me work in a vineyard for crissakes, then winemaking. And how is it that my perp-abetting mother could arrange the coffee pot to be leaned against the cupboard door after closing it, when she cannot reach that high in the first place, never mind the high art of booby-trapping the coffee pot?

I was at Basia Bulat concert last night; lots of pacing by the black dressed staff, particularly the Fat Man. he must of done at least 20, if not 30, repeat pacings such that he would come withing 15' of me and then turn around. He was in a staff-only area, with some of the best seats in the house bounded from public use. All to have me look through two sets of railings, on one side of this pillar that was an excellent view blocker. On the other side, a single set of railings, with another person managing to move their head just ahead of me to obstruct my sightline.

The table next to me was in high rotation; mid-show departures all to be re-stocked with new gangstalkers who duly followed the prescribed choreography. Other tables also emptied before the end of the show and I finally got to see the performer directly and not through railings. I am not 100% sure the performer saw me from 40' away, standing on a lit stage, but she did through an extended look in my direction. I have had the odd staring from a stage performer in the long past and I often wondered how they came to single me out.

The opeing of the night club was an exercise in being fucked with; the show ticket stated it starts at 2000h, and I got there at 1930h to get a seat. Somehow I managed to find an open side door and ended up in the club when no one was there. I asked someone, and they said the doors open at 2000h, then an one hour wait for the first billed performer, then Basia and band doing one set, an hour total. I suppose that is houw goes in the big city.

A mostly white colored food services tractor trailer was arranged to arrive in mid-street at 1940h while I was killing time in the nearby cofffee shop, another gangstalk scene where I had to allow some strange individual past me, like being at the cinema. The food service truck was parked in mid street, blocking at least 8 vehicles on the street, for which no owners/drivers needed for the 30 minutes it was parked there. The supposed delivery was then unloaded so the tailgate deliveries were onto the crosswalk that I used to later line up at the nightclub. By the time that I lined up and into the club, it was 30 minutes and this strange evening time food delivery was still in progress.

As I haven't been in a real nightclub for at least two decades, it was quite the experience; these red and green laser lights being shot onto a 3' mirrored ball made for some extra special shadows and lighting games. Too, a mandatory coat check was new to me, as well as a male washroom attendant who supplied soap to all hands, who likely enforced hand washing.

Light now came down for duration of the day, though nothing stayed and it served to mute colors and darken the sky for a shopping with my perp abetting FFF mother.  It was at a big box store which she rarely goes to, and lo, if all the culls and fat ones of Lnagford didn't surface somewhere. These two unshaven 50-ish males, one in camo, took the cake for the Extra Obvious Gangstalk Act (EOAGA) of the day. They arrived together and right behind me and got into a blather session at the shellfish section, following my mother's dithering games to create proximate  lingering when she wasn't looking for shellfish anyways. A good 8 minutes later, said shiftless males were still there. And might of they been fishermen (dressed and looked like it) doing some kind of extended loitering test over the distance dependent vibe (energetics) of shellfish? Or were they the Loyal Organized Psychopathic Scum-inals (LOAPS, and they often put on a loping gait) I so dislike to see? It really doesn't matter when it comes to the Unfavored Fuckwits, all of who should be dispensed with. One cute blonde babe was outside on a 2x reprise, as in faux waiting, and after that it was near full-on Unfavoreds inside; shiftless males, dithering biddies, very large Fat Girls, and a few brown-stalkers, either brown skinned or brown coated or both. My mother was dressed in two-tone brown for crissakes, so it is a no-brainer that they want to replicate my brown loathing at the First Feral Family household with the gangstalking Fuckwits elsewhere. And have I not said it umpteen times; if I don't like the color brown (and others), male vagrants and the rest of the scruffy-Fuckwits, why is it an 11.5 year long run of insane abuse in two countries at the hands of those who had followed and prescribed my every move for the prior 47 years? Just go fuck yourselves.

There are plenty of cookies and biscuits on hand to stuff me with brown colored food at all hours. So far, (1300h), a shut-in day, getting up late to then have my mother use the vehicle.

And I see that the Wish List function of one of my very favorite tools and gadget suppliers has disappeared. Unlike Amazon, the wish list box is to pop up when an item is added to the cart, and lo, if it isn't there. First make it user-interface adverse, then withdraw the item anyhow, having searched for it. Kind of like running the gauntlet for yet more abuse at the end of it. Nothing new in that concept being applied to me more than most. Said tool store was physically visited in the absolutely insane abusive harassment days of 2002, and lo, if there wasn't a near overflow of gangstalkers there, the busiest I have seen the store, as I had visited it a number of times previously. And too, I was purchasing magnets, a sure fire way to stop the debilitating head pain beams they were firing at me. Magnets are are always a big defence method, provided they don't de-gauss them, which is what they later did, rendering them ineffective. If you can create a random generating method for EMF on your person you might have a hope of avoiding takeover and this fucking abuse. So far, I don't think anyone has succeeded as the perps can also remotely defeat electronics and physical objects in my experience.

Gratuitous mentions from my perp-abetting mother abound, getting slightly more bat-shit wacko than the last time I was here at the FFF, about a year ago. As an example, she starts telling me about the front door keys, and leaving the light on for my evening time return from above concert. None of which has any bearing as I would be driving into the garage with her vehicle, using the garage door opener in the vehicle and accessing the side house door for which I would have a key on the vehicle key set anyhow. No question the perps like to lay on logically incongruous statements and have me process them, and then discard them as irrelevant. Information acceptance or rejection (and auto-rejection from long discredited sources) is also a meta-theme for the perps, not just the content. Doddering dipshits and like brethren have no end of play in the Unfavored-sphere. And the Gangsstalking Capital of Canada has more than its fair share.

I was kept busy all morning driving all over town with my abetting mother yesterday. To Walmart no less, where it turned out that she didn't want anything but a 2L carton of milk for crissakes. All those ambulatory Fuckwits doing the clusterfuck choreography, and one even pretending not to notice that he was walking beside my mother, coat arm to coat arm in the same direction but looking opposite directions, pretending that they didn't know. Once I saw this bullshit I said out loud, "you two know each other, and yet they remained in this faux formation for at least five more seconds.

I got the skunk at one store, my perp-abetting mother staying in the vehicle while this envisioned item, a plastic scraper for wine tanks, was found to be not available. A similar stunt some two years ago was done in the same way; I was looking for a safety item, knee pads, and there was nothing availible at this safety supply store only two blocks from today's skunk. (A "skunk", same as in fishing, is when one goes to a store for an expectable item and it is unavailble (for reasons of low stock, recent sell off, or never had the item in the first place).

It is the season for concerts it seems; at the Allison Crowe concert and young woman two pews ahead with coiffed hair (blonde on top, black underneath) must of scratched her head and lifted her hair at least 30x, not to mention leaning on her mother's shoulder for at least 20 min.of the hour long show. Like WTF; who but some Pschopathic Operative would appear so ridiculous in public. She didn't seem any bit deranged or mentally deficient, and yet this protracted hair pawing and head leaning exercise. The woman directly in front of me did a pointless stand-up for 5 min. of the 15 min. break. As the concert was in a church, with stain glass windows, it make for extra lighting fuckery. Not only flickering the lights inside, but also turning on the lights outside in the parking lot.

Another oddity at the Allison Crowe concert; she is very bubbly and talkative between songs, and at one point she was admonishing herself for "umms" and "ahhs" while speaking. Then she spoke some more, using umms and ahhs, and then said "I feel like I am in a loop (as in a repeating (self looping) tape). Then she said something most odd, "I'm not supposed to say that". Some of the audience laughed, but like WTF; why would she say something like that unless rehearsed in advance?

And to no surprise, I was had the row behind me empty of anyone, when it was a full house. Past concerts at larger venues with row seating have had the row in front empty while the seats were in demand.

Only one pacing male at his concert, apparently a sound man, and some dozen times unlike the above mentioned Basia Bulat concert/club visit.

A Sunday, and more keeping me busy, my farm worker colleague and her ex-husband somehow got their calamities together and were 30 min. late for an 0830h breakfast. Though to be fair, they phoned ahead and the restaurant staff were informed and helpful as to their tardiness. And for my part, the perps had me "forget" to switch my phone from silent mode to ring mode after last night's concert, making me unavailable. And what is fucking point of that? Sure, they needed to have me sit/wait by myself and drink four cups of coffee, thereby getting browned, aka, brown resonant or whatever the perps do with their color games. And lo, if I didn't get a huge bowl of brown porridge when the food order finally came. No, it wasn't listed as such on the menu, but somehow I keep blundering into things and foods I don't normally eat.

And what is it about online orders, the perps having me initiate three so far, and picking them all up at the reespective stores in town.

Later, raking brown colored leaves in the backyard of the FFF house for a few hours. Time to get this posted for the week, less it run on for another.

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