Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Music Entrainment

Whatever "goodies" and other deleterious emanations that come from music seems to be in perp test mode. They are having me upgrade the ridiculous tape deck in my vehicle to a CD player, and adding new speakers too. On the home front, a new disc player with a 94 page manual and getting my 1995 amplifier ready too, having brought it up on the flight from Victoria Jan.06. The amount of effort devoted to going "high fidelity", aka "audiophile" silliness, is also increasing. I must of spent at least 20 hours researching DAC (Digital to Analog Converter) on the web while at the First Feral Family house, Dec. 02 to Jan. 05, 2014. Then I blew it all off and got a universal disc player with above mentioned manual, that should future proof me for audio and video for the next few years. Though I doubt the perps will let me use all its features as they like to jerk my ass around and keep me in dullsville, enjoying a few features but leaving the remainder unexplored. Or else, blunder into a set up mode and scramble me such that I select the wrong settings and spend months trying to get it fixed. I could of got a well made DAC to hang outside the USB port on the PC for a quarter of the cost of above multi-disc player. Another case of the perps leading me along to excessive spending for possible future use when they aren't immediately required. All to say, it seems that they want to do some kind of experimentation on all manner of discs in both audio and video. The perps also have me cranked to get expensive audio grade cables and AC cords. An expensive hobby, this audiophile world, and I really don't have the means even to get ankle deep in it. No matter, say the perps, we will decide how to squander your money and there is nothing you can do about it. Something like that.

Yoga; they swapped out the darling pixie instructor to have the bald and big gutted dude instructor again, pacing around as his wont. I don't think I have seen such a disgusting looking yoga instructor. And made all the worse by him arriving just ahead of me, first outside, and then pacing the lobby in his yellow day-glo toque. Fucking ridiculous, but at least he had the talent to not wear it into class. And another dude was in the class, a rarity, even with some 10 other class members. But the next class was stocked with males, and three of them loitering over top the coat rack where my coat and shoes are. Like WTF; this exact move goes on four weeks in succession. Then a "huggies" scene again; why do the perps want me to see people hugging all the time, especially in their favored locations, e.g. at the coat rack at yoga, at the salad mix cooler at the supermarket etc.

Finally some hifi; the last time I had my stereo gear together and functional was 1996. It is still headphones, no speakers yet, and still disc bound, that is I cannot play files from a USB disc as I need to get a special converter cable. As it "so happens", this monitor/LCD display is a DVI connection, plus a useless VGA and for display, USB. No HDMI connection for a display device purchased in 09-2013, a little over a year ago. And yet, when I put a graphics board in my PC in 2009, it came with an HDMI connection. And of course I wasn't allowed to figure that one out and future proof my LCD display purchase, no sirrree, just not allowed. The victim must suffer technical hassle as well as extra-conventional physical harassment, no matter if the THEMs have this figured out years ahead. I still haven't figured out if a plain LCD monitor can suffice as a TV screen, or vice versa.

A day of pruning vines in the vineyard; the clouds were less than 1,000' ceiling and staying in place all day. No commercial flights, but they did let the helicopter out from the nearby airport though; the EC-135 with the whispery-thuddy noise, came out for a few passes and a one circling before it flew off down valley. And the perps are letting me be more competent in doing pruning work this year, unlike the relentless hassle of last year. I get to make pruning decisions quicker, and I don't usually cut the particular canes that I want to retain. Last year they constantly befuddled me and had me cut the wrong canes to great annoyance.

And still the games with my footwear; I managed to find the only shoemaker in town and as I hadn't heard from him as to my minor boot repair, I dropped by. This was to apply new aglets to the bootlace ends, as they just happened to start fraying. And lo, if he isn't out of aglet stock and will get some on Thursday, two more days from now. It seems the perps want my boots to be kept some three blocks away for at least five days. The incidences of me leaving boots or other footwear around, has escalated far beyond the orchestrated "normal". Not forgetting that my out-of-town brother seemed to have absconded with my shoes at the First Feral Family house, and didn't mention it when I visited his place in 09-2013. And I know for sure that his wife does not miss these details ordinarily and for some reason, didn't say anything then.

Wine lab training this am, and then I stopped in at the big box stationary store to return the DVI cable I purchased the evening before, as I  didn't need it and am going to span the distance with an  HDMI cable and an adapter. As I rarely return items to the store, and usually throw them out or else send them onto Value Village, it was a mighty gangstalk event. The cashiers do returns there, and no dedicated customer service personnel were on hand. (Or, at least, for the event of me returning an item, I get to go to the same checkout yesterday evening when I purchased the item). Plus, they had this particular checkout arranged with extra personnel ahead of me, aka checkout obstructing. And there was the fat "bird dog" woman in grey hair standing like a sentry, as if she was waiting for a ride or someone to come by. And does she, why no, she filtered back into the aisles. I have never seen a customer do this before, but as I suggest, this isn't the Normal World. Then another grey haired woman comes to stand 5' behind me at the checkout for no seeming reason, and lo, if she isn't leading me out when I was done.

An online crash of my purchase attempt last night, which "happened" to be cables for my nascent hi-fi interests. Get it; the wrong in-store purchase of a cable yesterday evening, then afterward, an online purchase of cables that crashed the ordering page.

Vineyard pruning mostly today, and sunny and warm. The boss went pissy over the wine this morning and trying to tell me that it was cold out and the wine was just as cold, which it wasn't (1.1C). Out side was 2C when he claimed it was -6C because it was on his TV at that moment. And did I think of the rejoinder, "do you believe everything you see on TV?". Of course not, I am dociled and dicked with, and instead to get to think of this missed snarky "opportunity" all morning while pruning the vines.

On the employment theme the perps so like to grind me with, it getting to be absurd BS at times with all (about 8 or so) the vineyard jobs seeming to need more experience than I have. Funny how that happens, jobs just out of reach but in the right ball park.

Some winery work, then pruning later; weeks later, I get the decision I wanted for the last month -chill down the reds outside and have them precipitate some of their acidity. I told the owner this weeks ago but he didn't want to move on it for reasons only known to himself, likely perp arranged.

My Amazon pages getting spoofed; the Wish List button is rendered inoperative without any reference to its function. I attempt to put the book of interest into the Shopping Cart, and it isn't working either. No other graphics on the page to place it into my Cart either. Since when did Amazon EVER not have a means to purchase an item they are selling? Only in TI World, and I assume, part of the perp's activity deconstruction/parsing games, breaking down the activity of purchasing into whatever components they can detect. Some purchases on Amazon a few days ago might also be feeding this perp inanity.

Plenty of yelling at the assholes so far today, though nothing public. A royal fuckaround on reconcilling my accounts online vs. Quicken on this here local PC. I thought I had seen it all; mis-reading lines, mis-reading dates, (at 10x the pre-overt harassment normal), having the totals change on me as I flip to another brower tab, and other cognitive dithering fuckery, but when Quicken would NOT add up the balance on the registry, I went ballistic. Only by closing out and coming back in again did the totals add up. Fucking outrageous.

A Saturday, and the usual phalanx of Fuckwits at the laundromat, including one that hasn't been seen for some 5 months. The vagrant act at the last motel I lived in until 05-2013, who suddenly found a nice truck and trailer within a week of me leaving and moving to this residence. How a non-vehicle owning vagrant act could pull off that and "happen" to be at the same local laundromat takes considerable attention to detail. This Fuckwit operative was "happening" to use the same laundromat on the same day of the week for most of the summer, four months or so, and then dropped out of circulation. And lo, if he didn't find me today at the laundromat, staying inside his travel trailer the entire time. In the summer, it was his new yellow ball cap that identically matched the color of my new detergent jug of mine that took the cake as a managed coincidence.

Other perp action has been to increase the vehicular dirt brigade, though, it is the season for it. That is, road dirt sprayed vehicles in significantly greater abundance, say, 20% of them. Side panels only,  bumpers only, van and truck sides, heavy and lightly sprayed etc.and no doubt in combinations of various sources/roads on the same vehicle.

A four strong clusterfuck at the cashier this morning; the vile red hair act lingering on after payment had been completed after a mistake on the bill was sorted out. The next woman, happened to have her purchased water missed by the cashier, so another transaction and hold up. The third woman who got in ahead of me after I was faked out into relocating to another till, which turned out to be not the case, was draped over the belt of checkout, featuring her fugly copper colored purse. I was yeast she was purchasing and fussed about, per conversation with the cashier. And for a store that has been singularly dedicated to ensuring there is always enough cashiers, it did strike me as extremely odd that another cashier didn't arrive. After all, the blonde woman cashier of last time, pulled a walk-in-front-of-me act as I was entering the store, creating a three way cluster fuck until she got out of my way. Said blonde woman cashier was planted at the maple syrup section for no apparent purpose last time, save to block off part of it and force me to get the thicker and heavier kind which I don't particularly care for. Then she goes to the checkout to ring me through, as the maple syrup section was the last shopping stop for me. And too, the walk-in-front of me stunt was done without an excuse me or any such kind of manners, in keeping with the ill-mannered Fuckover action the perps like to arrange all too often. As before, there was a sudden drop in public manners since 04-2002 when this whole Extreme Rabbit Hole opened up.

When multiple things go wrong, it has to be a perp stunt, as they just love to get their victims some more when they are down. Not only did they screw me out getting the NAS working, but crashed my internet connection. Then some kind of strange stain erupted around the on-off button on the disc player, not even a week since it was delivered. All kinds of notions about shipping it back to California were planted in mind for the next two days. There is something about object attachment the perps keep researching and of course, screwing me over some more.

Well.. sorry if this was delayed in getting posted Sunday (Jan. 26th), but as it "happened" my internet connection got taken out and I had to have the tech repair-stalkers come visit me this morning and check out the modem. Yes, they herded me into a corner, then when not, why they sat in my seat and tried this here computer, and then had me follow an sit where they had sat etc. The Gangstalking Choreography, right here in my own residence,- such a treat. I will refrain from other details as you can get the picture. The perps just love me to look at online LCD displays, not to mention having them accessed around me by gangstalkers everywhere I go. It is the device by which it seems the perps color calibrate their victims (could be everyone) and delve into deeper recesses of their minds in the cause of whatever they are after beyond mind control.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Change the Plans (Again)

The landlady came by, and her request for me to check for parcels at her house turned out to be check for all mail, no big deal. Then a discussion about the heater, and I said that the thermostat remaining on the wall from the former wood stove "moved by itself"  (reads independently and without any supplied power or attached devices is what I meant) and she goes to great lengths to exclaim that it physically moves by itself, which it doesn't. All to exploit/reveal the language that I use related to other objects being teleported into my proximity, dust, hairs, crumbs, litter etc.

What is it about the perps that they need to change their plans so often? My landlady said she was going on holiday with her husband Saturday for three weeks, and by Monday, she said their trip was postponed. I was to stay at my employer's house for five days while they took a hotel in Kelowna, and lo, if that was only one day away and they are back today.

The one day stay-over was coincident with yoga that evening, followed by relocating a shelving unit in the bedroom and drilling some holes in it for a hangers and attaching it to the wall. The shelving unit had to be relocated at there was mold on the wall behind it, the second mold outbreak, even if there was no dampness. It would seem that someone wanted me out of the house for the rest of the evening after the furniture moving and modifications. Which fits the general plan of the perp research; screw the victim, and sometime later, screw the victim again but vacating the premises. As in more of that distance dependent trialling they put me through.

Then I was hit with an one hour nap attack tonight when I was fucked into an hour's extra sleep last night. It is January, historically the month of great sleep disruptions, giving me much more than needed. Though too, having me start work later seems to be part of the game as well.

Vine pruning mostly today; sunny and warm and even some redness on my face, likely perp fuckery though. Who can get a face tan in the N hemisphere in midwinter(49 degrees latitude)?

A pissing match with the perps over ordering a specific appointment/diary for 2014 erupted. Long time readers will know that the perps just love to screw me around over the acquisition of appointment/diaries, and after three years of relative calm in getting the same acceptable 3.5"x 6" wire bound type, why, they decided to jerk me around. It wasn't available at Staples, nor the small independent office supplies store, nor LD. I attempt to order online via Amazon.com, and after going through the details of ordering, why, The Great Disintermediator springs a message on me to say that this particular diary cannot be shipped to Canada. So far, all my online looking for this particular 2014 appointment diary has been nullified.

Key hassles of late; vehicle key went missing from my wallet, a safety deposit box key went missing and I will mail the one remaining key to the bank and take a $50 hit because I cannot find the supposed second key I got. Funny how these coincidences are confluenced.

Pruning vines mostly; cold and with low cloud (less than 1,000') but the helicopter made it out, doing at least two passes, maybe three. A big throbby Bell helicopter as best as I could make out, not the whispering EC 135's which frequent the airspace in these here parts.

Audio listening is getting fucked again; a new CD won't play through my Grado headphones; too much fidelity at once so it would seem. Translated, we cannot fuck you fast enough with the Grados on, so we will delay the onset of listening to music through them.

I tried a new CD disc, its files and two players (incl. Windows Media Player), and still no sound from any of them. Usually, in these games, one of these combinations will somehow play. And no amount of yelling at the assholes will change it either, often a last resort "work around". I have had nothing but fucking hassle, playing CD's (from the label's disc), CD players going on the fritz, ditto on decent headphones, and now this abuse with three media players somehow not playing.

Later, I got the music to play after removing the headphone jack and re-inserting it. The perps have it in for me to purchase live performance recordings of late; all that clapping and applause seems to be a big deal for them. I see that "One Fair Summer Evening" arrived yesterday and I got totally wiped (recall deletion) I had even ordered it. All to find that is was a live album and I have most of the songs in studio recordings anyhow. That is how it goes; remotely befuddled at the time of ordering the item, total recall deletion that it was to come (no shipping email either), and all to find out it wasn't that useful of a purchase in the first place. The perps must think I have money to burn, when in fact they know a whole lot better than that.

Though, the perps do love to arrange "futility exercises"; recall some 6 months ago when I ordered two different tweezers, both with serrated mating faces. The reason being that the smooth faced tweezers were slipping when pulling hairs, another perp planted (read, imposed) obsession. It was a Monday when the parcel came, and I duly opened it and tried both sets of tweezers. And lo, if my hairs didn't "somehow" slip through the serrated faces, performing worse than the smooth faced tweezers they were meant to replace. I put the new tweezers aside in a place where I don't expect to use them ever again. Then off to yoga to do all those back and spine stretches the perps just love, and also have their gangstalkers do in public as well. In other words, a futility jerk-around was followed by spinal stretches and the rest of the yoga exercises they so love.

Major silly gangstalking at LD today, the perps setting this up by screwing me out of getting everything I wanted there last evening. The assholes blew the light bulb in the stove hood when making dinner, when it was only six months old, and used sparingly. And was I allowed to pick up a light bulb along with chocolate, skin creme etc.? Fuck no, I had to make a separate trip this morning to get the light bulb. For some reason they laid on heavy gangstalking, starting with a 180 degree reversal of an oncoming gangstalker I recognized from somewhere else, who then lead me toward the aisles, and at least another three did the R side loiter, and then to get skin creme, why, two Fuckwits were posted exactly where I wanted to go. Screw that, and off to the chocolate section, but no, another two Fuckwits posted there (one last night tailed me from the chocolate section to the till), and off to the light bulb section where only one Fuckwit was posted. Now that regular incandescent light bulbs are not sold in Canada as of Jan. 01, 2014, I was fucked around as to what to get, as I loathe the compact fluorescent bulbs with a passion. A quick grab as to what looked to do the job, and then lo, when I was about to exit the aisle, a two dude cluster fuck, both taking turns to get in my way. Then obstructions at the three open cashiers, with more Fuckwits arriving to get just ahead of me. Then when queued, the procession of freaks-as-faux-customers came by, as this particular cashier is arranged next to the entrance. I still haven't figured out why they look sideways while walking forward, but this has been totally consistent since all this abuse began in 04-2002.

The "warm up" event to the above LD obscene ganstalking coverage was going to an electronics store about two blocks away. I come in, and the male staff at the counter just stand there looking at me, even while I was standing where pondering where they might have remote keyless entry devices. (The perps fucked the set I have in the vehicle, and then have disappeared the remaining spare key). After some 30 seconds of this ridiculous Mexican stand-off, one of the staff males deigns to ask me what I am looking for. I tell him, and he says that xxx will come out to help me. Well he did, and all his tattoos up and down each arm. Like WTF; I loathe the sight of tattoos, and he had two armfuls. I do the honors of being interested in his product, which included him retrieving a little brown box with the keyless entry module in it. There are at least a half dozen tattoo places in this town, and more of their handiwork is evidenced that I care to look at, but the perps always make sure I get a faceful of tattoos.

I had just finished reading Mary's Mosaic, and was perusing the notes section and got hit for a three hour nap attack, 1630-1930h. It seemed the last hour of the nap was spent attempting to get up but I couldn't and lapsed into more sleep than I expected.

Getting the last three months of the bookkeeping accounts done in Quicken. I expected a whole lot more harrassment than I got, e.g. dithering my recall and sending me back to the page I viewed two seconds earlier. I did some reports for the year, and it seems that the perps stole $600 cash off me over the year. I can account for nearly everything in my checking account, but somehow, despite keeping all reciepts and being diligent about my cash expenditures, all this money goes missing somehow. But as the perps just love to have me pay cash at various times with these colored Canadian bills (nearly all are polymer based now), I am not too surprised that they wouldn't steal some for their own nefarious research ends. Back in the wild and excessive abuse days of 2002, they stole my WA state driver's licence from my wallet overnight.

A visit to the tanning salon this morning, and yet again (exactly like last week), no one waiting when I got there, but when I exited, why, a motley entourage of at least six unlikely tanning types were arranged for me to pass them by on my exit. Then onto the laundromat, and what a mistake that was; a freakshow crowd of at least six loitering there, though the curly haired male in red pants had to show off his same red shirt as it was hanging on the basket trolley's central post. He was also duty bound to tail me outside into the parking lot. Red coats and shirts on males are ridiculous enough, but red pants?

Anyhow, another week is past and I would be remiss if I didn't post this now.


Tuesday, January 07, 2014

Flight Follies

Finally, getting out of the First Feral Family (FFF) house after four weeks of my mother's batshit wacko nonsense, dithering, obstructing.

And what a jerkaround in getting onto the flight, as I nearly didn't make it. I got there an hour early with my perp abetting mother and ex-wife, and did the baggage check in, and there was no line at security, and the two perp abettors needed breakfast. Twenty minutes later, there was 60' line, and it was hardly moving. The flight was boarding when I got to the end of it. As it "happened", a blonde woman and her husband were just ahead of me, and in talking with my ex, the blonde woman learned that I was on the same flight as she and we would be fine. Ten minutes later, the line hadn't moved very much and it was 15 min. to flight time. She reiterated her observation that we would make it on OK.

Some two minutes later, she says something to her husband who slinks off out of the security line, and then she proceeds to move her way up the line past waiting passengers. I then was allowed to "get it"; it was a disinfo stunt on top of the lineup eruption stunt. So I do the same, but the security officer is controlling the last 12' of the line, and she sneaks through, yakking to someone. Still it doesn't look good, but then a "break", they open up a new security line. But they take away immediate progress with a family of three with a baby carrier and give them a total search, even with the wand for crissakes over his fucking red shirt. Said family has so much crap going through the X-ray that I still had to wait a minute to get my coat and briefcase. Finally, I get to the gate, and the plane is waiting, with the customer service person with her head down. She tells me that I was being paged, and phones to cancel the "baggage pull". I get on board with 4 minutes to spare and everyone is in their seats, and there is hardly a seat availible, just the odd one in a two seats per side of the center aisle. I get to my row, and why, both seats on my side are empty, and on the opposite side, one is also empty with the window seat occupied by this disgusting looking negro woman. And so the flight went, with a seat, aisle and seat between us in the row, and no other row was anywhere close to being that unoccupied.

the usual "all rise" clusterfuck in the aisle of the aircraft when it was time to disembark, and the negro woman moves in close as part of the arrangements, and eventually stands up behind me. I finally get off, and lo, if she isn't exiting out of the rear, not having known there was a rear exit in use. Said negro dogs me again at the luggage delivery conveyor, needing to get 6' close for  no reason when there was plenty of room elsewhere. The she moves another few feet away, and later outside, there she is again. The blonde disinfo woman was standing off to the side some 20' away, and it was mighty curious that she didn't mention anything to me about being fortunate to make the flight. And too, neither of the perp-abettors who caused this entire fuckaround had the gumption to phone me up later to see if I got back OK. The fucking assholes, all of them; FFF abettors, the blonde disinfo woman, the negro gangstalking set up and the rest of it, e.g. getting me totally stressed out while the loaded and waiting aircraft was sitting in the passenger loading area.

I get back to find my ISP bill on table, find out no internet, "accomplished" by the following trail of coincidences fucking up the email billing request when the account was set up, obstructing my first mailed bill in November, and then fucking me out of phoning about it when I took my account info with me for the last four weeks at the FFF house. All artfully timed for when I was away and not using said internet connection.

Yoga later, and I was wrong about calling for a negro gangstalker to be inserted into class in my last blog posting, but instead, had the above mentioned negro-stalker on the flight. After four weeks at the FFF house and excessive negro exposure on TV starting with the Mandela funeral and the rest of it, the perps had to get one last negro-stalk on the flight after setting me up, per above.

And at yoga the darling pixie instructor even smiled at me when I came in, a sudden change in "temperament' (read arranged grimacing) after some six months of the past year of being so terse and avoidant, save when she was in front of the whole class.

And it is always a big gangstalking and fuckover scene after an aircraft flight; they were all over me at the organics store, then the LD store, where some strangeness at the till with a dude dropping off a gym bag at the checkout, though a seeming a customer and the mega-fat woman cashier stayed heads down, the first time I have seen her there.

Onto winery, bench testing, measuring getting fucked into more messes and even got pushed over by an unseen localized gravity push at one point.

Grado headphones finally repaired after they got fucked (in same used box that I sent from the FFF house, Victoria, arriving in Penticton. A used box that housed new Logicraft speakers that my mother suddenly seemed to need when getting the new printer. She never had any sound from her PC before, and we are talking 12 years worth or so.

Still, the perps wouldn't let them play at first; the track was playing but there was no sound. A screaming rage show reminding them that they fucked these headphones for over ten years, brought results, and the assholes finally let them play. A Fuckover stunt of late; not allowing the first song sample in an Amazon album list to play, and then it suddenly kicks for later songs in the list, usually after I yell at them for obstructing music listening

Plenty of other screaming rage shows today while outside; blowing wind suddenly gusting up to foil the laydown of plastic sheets on the tanks, pulling my had off countless times while working under the just-pruned fruit trees and then getting whipped in the face too often as the prunings just "happened" to flick that way.

Aft that a pissy doctor office assistant about my health card as it had no text on it; I explained that it did three months ago when I was there, and hadn't used the card since. My driver's licence info, and prior visitation details was good enough.The next day I learned that the health card magnetic stripe is readable, had the pissy act bothered to learn her job, but then again, getting pissy was the priority, read on.

A dental cleaning appointment today, after getting fucked around yesterday as to which day it was. No harm done sve bgetting FUD-ed and made the appointment on time. Making me miss appointments is a perp stunt, though they don't often pull this now, but instead, jerk me around as to which day, having me tell others the wrong day, and later having me later inform them I was "mistaken" etc.Immediately following, a blood draw and an urine sample at the adjacent lab, fallout from yesterday's doctor visitation.

Same health card at the lab, though I explained to the office assistant that it had no identifying text on the card (my plastic wallet cards are often delaminating, breaking up etc.), but that the magnetic stripe on the back side might be readable. She tried it, and lo, it was and got the details she needed. Like WTF; the pissy office assistant over this same health care card somehow didn't know about the machine readable magnetic stripe, and instead decided (read, orchestrated response) to get pissy on me instead.

What is it that the perps like to set up asshole/pissy stunts and then have me register the person (in mind) as a certified asshole/shill, and then later show them to me again, possibly 5-10 minutes later, or even months later. One blonde bitch cashier at Rona yanked the receipt from my hand after giving it to me, all to perform their ritual of swiping their fingernail on it while the reciept placed on the counter. All the cashiers at Rona are trained to do this, and perform this hundreds of times a day, and "for some reason" she somehow forgot for this TI victim. Anyhow, every few weeks I return to Rona for some odd item, and lo, if this same bitch isn't on show, sometimes at an info counter. I call this "asshole cred"; purposely building credibility as an asshole, usually for some curious reason unrelated to anything I might of done or said, or even before I do anything. And as part of it, having the designated asshole put on show later for reprising my reactions.

The perps are back at cooling this place down again; the heat was reset on 01-06-2014 from 16C to 22C, and the other non-connected thermostat indicates 19C today. There was plenty of keeping me near chilled at the FFF for the past month, but bringing this fuckery here is a piss-off.

I drop off my stool sample at the lab at 0730h, and lo, if there wasn't eight vehicles parked outside. Exciting times in "browning around" IMHO. And to add to the mix, why, an East Indian woman lab tech was posted at the desk to recieve my sample, standing there next to the same seated medical assistant of yesterday. Done and gone, though the timing of the sampling was interesting, that being last night, read on.

I am presently reading Mary's Mosaic, the story of Mary Pinchot Meyer, a secret lover of JFK in his last two years, and who was murdered in broad daylight on a public walking trail, almost a year after JFK. They never did find a murderer, and her substantial journals went  missing shortly thereafter. The author, Stephen Janney, grew up with Mary's son of the same age, until 9 yo. when he was killed in a MVA. They were fast friends, as were the parents of both sides and their other respective children. Anyhow, I had finished the substantial chapter on the murder and then the police activity shortly thereafter which resulted in arresting the wrong person, once the trial was concluded. And so, at this point, the imposed "need" to crap came on, and of course there was that stool sample kit, and so the deed was done. I attach great significance to perp impositions in temporal association with what I am doing, or have just done. And so it seemed the event of reading this engrossing and pivotal chapter in the book was "perp worthy" enough to warrant a follow-on stool sampled crap (rare, 8 or 9 years since the last one). Follow the money they say, but in these circumstances follow the brown, all the way to the treatment plant, or the Strait of Juan de Fuca in the case of the last town, Victoria.

As always, I look for possible perp controlled games in any story of note, and the lead witness in the murder of Mary Pinchot Meyer was a car mechanic who was called nearby to attend to a stalled Rambler Nash at nearby roadside. The altercation between the assailant and the victim was overheard, and so the mechanic ran to a wall that was on a height of ground that offered a view, he seeing a negro male standing over the prone and bleeding body who just walked away. After the police were called, via radio as the mechanic`s vehicle had one, why, the stalled vehicle just disappeared. And any of the garage`s work orders and paper work devoted to the mechanics`call out just went totally missing, never to be found. another made-in-perp-land vignette I thought was interesting was about a month after JFK`s murder, and Mary Pinchot Meyer was walking this same public pathway (a canal towpath as termed in the book), as she did every day, and there was this incredible onset of a blinding snow squall, to the level of not seeing more than 20`ahead. No one else was around as she progressed further, until she saw a figure coming toward her, who happened to be a good friend, Jacqueline Kennedy. They embraced, conversed, and of course ...... about the loss of Jacqueline`s husband, JFK. And I assume, Mary Pinchot Meyer was nearly equally distraught over JFK`s demise, though surely was sufficiently discreet to not mention her liason with Jacqueline`s late husband. I find this extraordinarily fascinating, each woman bearing considerable grief over the recent and tragic loss of the same man, meeting on this towpath as the only figures in a blinding snow squall. And have I mentioned the many times where there is something perp managed for me to see, and it is arranged that the object suddenly arrives from around a corner or is pictured framed such that much of the background is removed so the object, a person very often, is framed between two obstructing perps. (The punctuation keys are on the fritz again). In other words, the perps remove or obstruct much of my visual landscape to have the designated object (of Unfavored feature) stand apart from the rest of the field. And so, in this one time encounter of two deeply grieving women, they meet as lone figures in a snow storm on this public towpath. Another instance when my coincidence detection meter goes off.

An 8x fuckover stunt stream of playing a new CD; unhandled exceptions x3, disc load problem x2, truncated identical fragmentary sound bursts x3, plus at least another pissaround with the headphone jack and pinching the headphone cord under the wheels of my office chair. Welcome to TI World, where the act of putting on a new CD has to turn into a screaming rage show.

The just-repaired (again) Grado headphones finally work in both channels, and so far, no gimbel spinning sabotage that erupted in 2002, and I FINALLY, after 12 years get to listen some decent fidelity sound. Imagine sabotaging a victim's music listening experience in the full for 12 years. And making me pay to get them fixed, both times. Never mind the runty headphones they had me use all those years, and another prior pair also got taken out.

A hair cut, leg wax; cute girl, save the 3" tattoo on her R wrist, who did both, with jet black hair dropping over her face and the odd spike of hair from a loose bun at the back. The perps know exactly, more than I do, as to what kind of female hair style gets my interest the most, and they nailed it this time. I could of stared at her hair for an hour or more, watching every flick and spill. (Not that she was making any effort to show off, but to the contrary, she was decidedly demure and borderline avoidant). Tight hair buns I don't like I have come to realize in the past six weeks or so, having seen many of the latter variant. And did not an alien abduction book identify the bun wearing females as the "breeders". Hmm, I wonder if I encountered that look in the "lost years", as in recall wiped years, aged 2 to 5, though I would of been hard pressed to conceptualize the term "breeder" at the time.

[new, since first posted, though re-posted the same day if you end up revisiting this paragraph]
Back to the haircut and waxing aesthetician or whatever they call themselves. At one point she indicated that Penticton (where she grew up and now lives) was "a good place to settle down and have a family", and then she looks at me. Given her avoidant heads down demeanor, I found this most strange that this particular line was delivered with the stare-at-me treatment. Regular readers of some six months ago will know that my vineyard boss delivered a statement about "for your wedding" while looking at me, as I think this started when she was telling me about a place to get party supplies. Like WTF; why do I get these specific and pointed future directed comments about weddings, family etc.? For the record, I don't ever check out dating sites, and at the wages I earn I couldn't support a house cat. Nor do I have any romantic notions after being thoroughly disabused of the state of human-hood by way of this relentless perp abuse. Not to mention the ex being a underhanded fuck-up by way of perp direction, and the follow-on Ms. C was another passive-agressive jerkaround artist that I was glad to see the back of in 2003. So with this long standing order of fucking the TI victim with romantic interests, never mind the rest of this fucking hell I have been cast into, why do I get this nonsense about future wedding and family? Just give me a cabin on 10 acres and leave me the fuck alone; that is all I ever ask if the perps don't have the gumption, as it seems, to end this vile psychopathic outrage NOW.

And the "usual" fuckery at the front desk of this hair salon/aesthetics school I go to. Not usual there, but everywhere; customer at the front with a billing problem, joined by a second granny who seemed to be part of it. After being ignored for five minutes I sat down and still it was another five minutes before this posing bullshit didn't go unnoticed. The prime problem granny customer was in some kind of animal fur jacket; light brown with white stripes and black spots. Then a cute babe arrives, but isn't an apparent customer and stands on the opposite side of the shop from where I was seated in the customer waiting area. Cute she was but not flaunting it, with low bangs and long trailing hair and deep dark doe eyes, and in a solid color light brown jacket with white fur edging that went halfway down her ample ass (borderline disproportionate) that was wrapped up in black tights. An intriguing look so say the least, apart from the light brown jacket color, the brown tone being almost identical to that of the brown in the granny's mixed color fur jacket described above. Anyhow, this cute babe didn't get to join the regular customers and at some point walked back ahead of me. How she got this prefered customer treatment without even hanging at the reception desk was beyond me.

Then a grandmother granny in darker brown outfit came into the waiting area with two grandsons under 5 y.o. who were there for hair cuts, and she had to wait until they got settled. A few minutes later my hair cutter, later waxer, came for me, and I ended up beside one  of the kids in the line up of the extra closer customer's barber chairs.

And as it happened, (har, har),  in the past four weeks, both the lead hair cutting instructor and the waxing/aesthetics instructor had moved onto other jobs somewhere, and my hair cutting cutie didn't know where they went. Mighty curious in this job strapped town as to how both of the leading instructors came to leave for unknown jobs elsewhere. And have I not mentioned more than once that participating shills, especially those who are reasonably socially engaged with me end up with better jobs/prospects elsewhere? No question that the perps like to move personnel on, especially with any kind of extended contact (hair cuts every six weeks for two years). But both of them moving on inside of four weeks (that I was away) when they were clearly established in their respective roles and worked well together as/when needed. My coincidence meter just went off again.

Feel a little ill this morning; they backed me off from drinking more than one cup of coffee and no chocolate this morning. The infernal ear ringing noise seems to be louder and will sometimes change in pitch if I move my head too quick (for them).

And they did make me throw up about an hour afterward, and had me lie down after for an hour or so. No wonder they wanted to get me up early, 0700h to get all that done, never mind the cleaning up that was needed, even if I was centered over the toilet. A light brown it was too, and of course, breakfast food fragments.

Then when recovered, it was lunch time, then the tanning need came on, and now back to Fuckover Central on this dull winter day. A six strong herd erupted in the lobby of the tanning salon, arranged there for my exiting through the middle of them. I cannot fathom why groups go tanning at a salon. No one else there when I arrived, save the attendant, she of a low cut top, front and back to show off her tattoos over her tan. And aren't artificial eyelashes so ridiculous that no one wears them anymore? Not her, not in this town.

A skunk on getting my recent car audio gear installed, yesterday and today. A M-F kind of business it seems. Yesterday they had me haul it around in my vehicle, but screwed me out of getting it installed nearby while getting my haircut and waxing done. It seemed more important to the perps that I read about particle physics for 20 minutes, thereby screwing me out of getting my prior lunch made as planned. (Same food item, quesadilla that is cut into four).

Sunday, January 05, 2014

Happy Hindering New Year

No year is new with the same affronts, stunts, jerkarounds, arranged adversities and obstructions as a TI. Departing this mortal plane would be the most welcome change I can imagine. But instead, it is one continuous stream of abuse of an unconventional kind, and the Pause button is rarely used (2x, each a few hours), and End-of-Psychopathic-Fuckover deployment is surely years away if the planted ideations are anything to go by. The planted BS has me getting married to whomever the operative will be, though there has been a constant theme (10+ years) about one particular female of nationwide repute that I won't get into for now. And hardly an hour goes by when they don't plant notions of working in the northern Alberta oil-patch and adjusting to a cold clime, the landscape and the male mentality in blue collar-land. How I would get there from a job in vineyard work in the Okanagan Valley of British Columbia is a considerable mystery, but it was drawn to my attention that a 5 year-ago change of unemployment benefits (in Canada) will not be paid if one refuses to relocate. Got it. Never mind that I have applied a dozen times prior to 2012 for oilpatch jobs and never once got a response. (The online questions, go like; "like to work outside?", "can you lift 50lb" etc.) Every so often I get someone telling me about such work being "dangerous and dirty" or else overhear the male job banter about Alberta jobs etc. Go fuck yourselves, which is my answer to any kind of planning to perturb the meagre status quo.

My perp abetting mother started the so-called New Year by hindering me in the kitchen again, artfully dithering in front of the fridge when I wanted to get there, then again at a cupboard, and and again. Not bad for a dipshit act that has unerring knack of obstruction timing every fucking morning.

And a spotty Global TV show last night, bringing in the New Year. A certain performer was on, and she sang well, but all decked out in black leather, with her oversized leather patterned jacket with high shoulder pads was positively Reptilian. Her blue dyed flat-bob hairstyle didn't do much for me either. Perhaps I have seen Reptilians in my recall-blanked years and harbor psychic stress and armoring from meeting such creatures in the flesh, so to speak. There has been plenty of other alien simulations in the ongoing freak show, and over the past year, the Stick-men have featured prominently as Shaw TV's (owners of Global TV here) advertising, (may need to look at other Shaw links as it will change) including last night. I had never heard of the Stick Men (and here) until seeing a TV show that reviewed paranormal claims,  and here these things were on a surveillance video tape. My exposure to many differing alien sites and stories had never revealed the Stick Men until 02-2013. But as Shaw Cable is a prominent gangstalking commercial operation (blue trades vans and boom trucks out, even on Sundays), why should I be surprised? And too, as the predominant internet providers, and given the color of the cable and the composition of the lines and all things else related to perp fuckery, surely they must be a perp operation.

And what is with the extra ear-ringing today? I just want to stop it but I cannot. And if I plug my ears, why, an electronic cheeping chatter becomes very evident and doesn't let up.

I drove my in-town brother and his sort-of Thai girlfriend to the airport tonight. He even added some of his garage sale booty into the vehicle and wanted me to put it into the crawl space of the First Feral Family house. Some of it was these mini-totem poles in wood, a collectable in these here parts, and other was his silver booty he collects and sells as scrap. No doubt it was some kind of perp arrangement, as it is highly unlikely he would trust me to his booty while heading off to Thailand for a month. And I would be gone by the time he got back. Way too trusting for him, to be sure. That some of it ended up beside some of my belongings in the same crawl space didn't go unnoticed.

When I got back from dropping them off, my perp-abetting mother locked the house door on me, the one that enters onto a closed garage. There was no need to lock as the garage door was locked. It has two different keys, which is usually no problem, as both are on the key chain for the vehicle. And lo, if one of them wasn't now missing, and I had to ring the door bell a number of times as her deaf act had to play out. I cannot count the number of times she has pulled this fucking act, and the fucking jerkaround to get her attention from door poundings and doorbell ringings. One time she locked two back doors on me when she knew I was outside gardening. Which is part of a major perp stunt theme, having locks not work, or otherwise get thwarted in entering a building. It is not only a delay act to keep me at a doorway for longer, and not just an infuriation tactic. There is something energetically/psychically intrinsic about opening a lock, or a door, that the perps need to find out, and I seem to be the Prime Fuckover Victim for this particular non-consensual research sub-objective.

This same expectation-of-action fuckery of unexpected locked doors is also manifested by the countless times mouse clicks and even physical buttons that don't work at first, and then do. It doesn't matter who's computer, and can be extended to that all-time blunder-fingers platform, touch screen phones.

I mentioned to my brother on the way to the airport, after witnessing an example, of a Fuckwit crossing in front of me while stopped at a traffic light who couldn't make a L turn without cutting the corner of the opposite L lane (no vehicle there) by 2'. I said the Victoria drivers have suddenly got the "Penticton Driving Disease", where they now regularly do this, progressively getting more evident over 2012 and 2013. This particular arranged driving "habit" never happened in Victoria with any noticeable regularity from 2002 to 12-2011 while here, though plenty of other extra-conventional driving stunts were evident every day. Now, it has erupted in Victoria, replicating the Penticton driving behavior. Of course so substantive reason came from my brother; why does he bother to try when he comes across as a illogical dupe? So here we have a particular, and arranged IMHO, driving worse-ity now following me from one city to another. Not just once, or once per day, but at about the same rate as where I normally live, 6 or more per day if driving more than 20 minutes. Again, I have driven in busier cities, LA, Seattle, SF, London UK pre-overt perp berserk onset of 04-2002, and I have never seen such consistent and outrageous worse-ities anywhere. But now, Victoria (pop. 300k) and Penticton (pop. 36k) drivers somehow follow the spectacularly bad driving habits of those in each city; having moved from Victoria to Penticton, and now, Penticton to Victoria temporarily.

A fine start to the day, with an extra 1.5 hour "hit" on my sleep time, 9.5 hours in all. Not only did I get the forced piss to send me downstairs, my my perp-abetting mother timed her arrival to intend to cluster fuck me at the house mid-level where the up and down staircases meet. So fuck that, I hung back until she got the the kitchen and ascended the stairs, and lo, if she didn't do a back and forth to then precede me, but flapping her arms for some bullshit reason. The batshit-wacko act is getting very thin when all these archetypal perp moves are delivered with such precision and even thwarting my intended countermeasures. And it is plain that the perps are upping the inanity/obstruction/intrusion ante as they arranged two service delivery boom trucks, a long standing vehicular preference, to sit outside and block the driveway, facing back to back to facilitate the transfer of telephone cable from one truck to the other. And too, their staff standing around in day-glo outfits, another perp garment fabric choice of greater regularity. Got all that?

To detail the perp moves in all of the above, here it the breakdown;
  • blocking a private driveway with two vehicles for over 30 minutes with no prior notice,
  • parking a vehicle on the wrong side of the road
  • having TWO boom trucks arrayed outside
  • transferring cable to large (3' diameter) drums (did you ever think that the cable drums sitting outside the Pentagon where Flight 77 "arrived" on 09-11-2001 nearby by was a construction leftover happenchance?) -can't seem to get any good web pics of this
  • arranging a cluster of "Day-glo's" (my term for hi-viz dressed gangstalking personnel) to stand around and do next to squat, save for one feeling the cable as it passed from one drum to the other. (Can we say, measure the energetic interaction of a male shill/operative outside the FFF house where the TI victim is resident after 11.5 years of plastics materials testing games, one among so many other themes?).
And here is few pics of this high outrage (to me) outside the First Feral Family house at 0930h:

 They did get down to some real looking work afterward, starting at the FFF adjacent pole, and not before pit-lamping me (pickup with lights on) when I took the shot.

Anyhow, onto a visit to the window sales people and their plant as my mother started up this about replacing windows at the back. Not unexpectedly, a royal vehicular gangstalk on the way there. Then the prerequisite "ignore me/us" so-called service for 10 minutes when we were the only customers in the small-ish showroom. The fat , fifty-ish and fugly male finally made contact, and it didn't take him more than three minutes to act semi-bored, like he heard all this before. (This should be a $15k job for crissakes). His visage will make a visit to this FFF house tomorrow at 1000h; I can hardly wait.

Later, when coming back the telco crew had made further progress, enough to pinch the secondary access road down to one lane, 100' ahead of the L turn that I made where it was again limited to one lane immediately after I made turn into the (flag-girl directed) opposite lane to get around the second boom truck. (A pass-the-boom-truck variation; blocking the opposite lane E bound, then blocking my lane, forcing me into the flag-girl opposite lane N bound. Have we talked about the anisotropic properties of energy and its manifestation in fucking TI's before?  Not recently, but check the labels if interested). [Anisotropic; different physical properties in differing directions -e.g. wood; easily to split longitudinally, but not from any other axis.] At least the flag-girls were attractive, even if stuffed in day-glo suits and hardhats. A rare side bonus from all the telco "maintenance" activity that happens to erupt all too often, usually in the service of forcing alternate directional use of a roadway.

More obstruction fuckery tonight from my perp abetting mother tonight; she was in the kitchen and I saw about five minutes of a documentary on TV where whales and other sea creatures were forced/confused by sonar and ran ashore, and one (or some) were of huminoid form and were examined and scanned before the S. African authorities seized the body, but not the scan data. It was suggested, with other evidence examples, that mermaids were for real. I was just getting into this new revelation (to me) when my mother came in and wanted some UK accents heavy show on another channel. Another obstructionist stunt, though not of the morning time breakfast making hindering fuckery that has gone on most days since I arrived here, Dec. 07. I cannot wait to get the fuck out of here, only two more full days to go.

Other planted perp ideations that have reached a 100x/hour rate some days, not all, is the notion of getting my 200lb girth reduced to 175lb or so by way of liposuction. I saw the doctor 01-2013, and had an expensive quote at twice what I expected, and some months later my mother "happened" to send me most of the money as some kind of bequest to each of us three brothers, and is promising more in the last few days. Though I know that such promises are flat-out disinfo, especially from that source. So it seems that is going to happen, as even my rejecting responses (mind talk ones) are getting sharply reduced in duration. And the sight of my disgusting paunch, though not even average as far as paunches go, is somehow eliciting more of a planted visceral reaction. The notion of being KO'ed with anesthetic gas for any duration frankly scares the shit out of me as I just don't know what else the perp assholes will do, and in what condition I will be afterward. One could surmise that I have a body dysmorphic perspective, but if I don't like the sight of overweight persons, (and I get plenty of this gangstalker theme), then why would I like my own extra girth that has strangely increased over the past ten years when I eat less than I ever have?

It became clear to me that body morphology could be remotely manipulated as the assholes cycled me from 195lb to 185lb in 2002, and then puffed me up to 220lb and then dropped me down back to 195lb until 2012 when they increased me to 200lb. All in the guise of medication changes of course, though with their trademark "clue inconsistency trail" they like to leave. Though, in this post-Christmas state, after relentless provision of cakes, cookies, pastries etc. (never less than three on the go, and that many again as remnant portions), I might be 205lb. And as I try to avoid ingestion of gluten, as it is so horribly bad for anyone, not just celiacs, why, even that 20 year diet habit has been somehow forgotten during this FFF stay.

Another trait of this FFF stay has been my batshit wacko dipshitting by my mother to drive me into infuriation, though not directly at her. That is, to increase the infuriation level from extra-conventional adverse physical fuckery, and to have me express this louder as my perp-abetting mother's hearing seems to be much worse than last year. If in doubt, fuck the victim more; a perp credo I learned long ago.

Only two days left at the FFF until I flee back to my place in Penticton.

More dip shitting, my mother starting to yap it up when I was watching a movie on TV last night, and it is at least the second time she has screwed me out of some decent dialog/entertainment on tv with this same technique in two days.

Then more of her dipshitting over flashlights again; looking at the PC with a LED flashlight, as it is too dark, this after finding the sun streaming in was too bright. As always, she manages to inadvertently (ahem) flick the light in my face at least once per stunt/dipshit show. Other LED related nonsense of a few days ago was the cheap-assed PA flashlight breaking up in my pocket, and yesterday's gangstalked trip to the red-shirt hardware store for my mother to get yet another flashlight. This after I fixed one a few weeks ago. Then off to get batteries for another flashight, button cells to get it working. Later, I got to install the batteries in yesterday's acquired flashlight as my mother couldn't find her way into the removable cover, even if it was the only steel screw on the whole thing.

Outside the tanning salon this am, why, a  vehicle was parked outside, the LED tail lights left on the entire time, there for entering and exiting the place. Not to mention LED lights have a "habit" of projecting beams from the physical bulbs in stobing like style right at me, the city buses routinely doing this for years. The bema interuption safety LEDs in the FFF have an everytime habit of strobing me in a stream for a few seconds per glance.

More perp-abetting mother battshit wacko dialog, this taking the cake. It was about the safety deposit key of three weeks ago when the bank told me that I had been given two keys when I had only one, and it was a $50 charge for the missing one. I decided to hold off on closing the box and see if I can find the key in Penticton after rooting through my crawl space stored boxes that haven't made it there. My mother says yesterday, "maybe the second one it is on your key ring". Like WTF; I have had the deposit box key on my keyring for ten years, and only one, and she knew this from past discussions on this tiresome topic she artfully revisits when I figure it is done. This all time wacko suggestion has to be the lowlight of the past months' stupidity I get flooded with. One can be sure if my mother is beating on a theme, it is perp arranged.

Yoga at my farm-worker friend's place, the third such visitation this past month. R was there too, something I know of in advance, negro friend of hers and who I know from at least two past farm jobs. I though R was going to be doing yoga too, but she begged off. And so, it was with the yoga DVD with a Caucasian woman instructor and two negroes (one M, F) to do alternate poses. I would characterize a this as negro pre-conditioning; one live one in advance, to be followed by the seen-before two on DVD. Maybe this "negro thing", (just one of the Unfavored Freak show as I see it after 11.5 years of this bullshit), the perps have been intensely focused on this past month while at the FFF house will be done, now that Mandela made his exit, the Mandela bio movie advertising will be past and I don't own a TV for the rest of the exposures in the news and advertising, as I don't own a TV. I doubt it though, as they like to keep the same theme going in other locations, at least for a while. I will call it now; a negro in my next yoga classes in Penticton next week.

The boom trucks again yesterday; first the tree service arrived next door at 0800 to get me up, getting the scene prepped, as that is where the telco workers arrived a few hours later and "happened" to resume work from the prior day again. it seems we have a junction pole outside. Two boom trucks and then the foursome of flag-girls again, all in day-glo. Both boom trucks later came to drive into the FFF driveway to turn around for some curious reason, one after the other, something my perp-abetting mother drew to my attention.

Said tree was on private property, and wasn't that a coincidence that the neighbor had his tree cleaned up then, but only that one?

The erstwhile telco crew came back later in the afternoon to yet again to do their cable installations, possibly running their paws over the cable casing like yesterday.

As if enough morning time commercial truck games hadn't erupted over the past two days, why, a fuel truck delivery at about 0900h, and at about 1300h, the recycle garbage people were coursing back and forth as they only do one side of the street for some reason, this being a low traffic subdivision.

Another fuckaround, getting screwed out of an interesting doc on TV on the Sochi Olympics, Russian style, "Putin's Games". My mother's now unerring need to watch some UK regular show -more UK accents. And to drive me upstairs onto this PC. Forget being able to watch hockey games; I haven's seen one since I have been here for a month with a TV. Talk about a Canadian sacrilege.

A dullified day, all to get my angst up when going to the old folks home to see the FFF father, dementia and wheelchair bound resident. The feckless asshole who was half responsible for this current 11.5 abusive outrage. His one-time response to all of this was about five years ago when he oddly came out of dementia character, after I was complaining about the harassment, and he said, "it can't be as bad as all that". Here is this addled shit, and then has the temerity to tell me how bad the harassment is, when he made out all along he didn't know about it. (Gangstalking my ass at the FFF all the while though).

The perps kept me in an ancy mood the entire time, almost an hour, while at this god-forsaken place, all these wheelchairs with shriveled bodies on board, usually sleeping or totally out of it, mouths agape for the most part. Don't ever put me in one of those places; Dignitas and gone; a one-way ticket to Switzerland is all I need, plus a responsible care party to get me there.

And a flush of red vehicles when I drove back; there was red colored Christmas decorations in the orange carry bag my mother had, so maybe that was the reason for the perps' red fixation.

And during this visit, some sit-around "visit" time to the upstairs activity room, my father falling asleep inside five minutes. Then the more capable elder-cases started moving in, begining 40' away. One strange overweight and prone mofo was in a wheelchair, with this young male at the table reading a newspaper. I thought he was a staff member at first, but no. They did banter a bit, and were joined in 10 min. by another male. Neither looked like children of this prone mofo, and the latter one wasn't spoken to by the wheelchair mofo/patient. Finally, I convinced my dipshit mother that the visit was pointless, (FFF father was sleeping), and we took him down to his room. Anyhow, she putzed around downstairs and took 5 min. to find and pour a cup of orange juice, and my father drank it up reasonably quickly for once, as I thought this was going to be another stall ruse.

More putzing to finish off, we finally get upstairs to the main desk where my mother does her log sign-out dithering, and there was a 8 party clusterfuck (10 people in all) with wheelchairs coursing past, others coming in the main doors, and others doing whatever. I stand to the side to let all this bullshit sort itself out, and the two dudes of the above odd-care situation/gangstalk are now standing around doing absolutely nothing as part of the aforementioned clusterfuck and just looking stupid, not even trying to look that they were going to sign out. (As they were there first, they should of finished anyhow). My mother was finally done with signing out, and as I was near the door, I follow the instructions on the keypad and the front door opens. It is only then that the two dudes decide to get in motion, and follow me and my mother out. Like WTF; neither of these dudes looked like they belonged in the first place when first visiting, then timed their stand-around the desk when I arrived some 15 minutes later, and then stood stupid-like as part of the clusterfuck, and then move toward me to follow me out only when I had the front door open. Most times in these follow-me skits, they have a reason to stand around, say, speaking with the front desk personnel and the conversation adroitly ending at the presribed instant, to then tail me. Not this crew; make it obvious, and all the more so with the guppy pose (mouth hanging open), and add in some fugly Unfavored features (male, red hair, tight curly hair). I be glad to get the fuck out of this town tomorrow.

Enough for today, unless some brilliant observations come on later tonight, and so I will post this now (1540h).