Sunday, April 13, 2014

Slouching on the Diet

And after last week's promising start on the Almased diet, (read, yellow powder in a non-dairy milk 2x/day), what happens? Why, a sudden "need" and consequent pig-out on chocolate and Cadbury's chocolate eggs (read white and yellow inside chocolate). The diet is now in the weight reduction phase where I have one normal meal a day, and two Almased feedings. And no interest in chocolate for the last week, and then it suddenly came on. Past experience tells me that chocolate "need", or anything else for that matter, can be manipulated remotely. Back in the year of onset of this infernal captivity and abuse (2002), there was a sudden and uncharacteristic abhorrence to chocolate, even the smell of it. This went on for two weeks and then it was back on, though not at the average proportion of the last 11 years, 300g/day. The perps ramped up chocolate consumption in 2003 and it has been fulfilling their brown food objectives ever since. Last week was an exception.

And on a rare Monday off, what else did they do? Why, they screwed me out of my regular yoga practice, by having me become time-unaware, then letting me in on it when it was too late to depart. This, after pumping me all day about going to yoga. Cute trick that.

And I see that I am getting techo-hobbled again, this time in a new way. I found a web site with FLAC files, lossless music in other words, and downloaded an album after paying for it. That worked out fine, and I extracted the files from a RAR file. The next four all somehow blew up, and I got each album of songs in one large file, making it useless for management purposes. I am waiting to hear from the support folks if that is expectable or not, and if it is, how to pull the file apart into separate songs. In other words, another obstruction stunt, taking advantage of the fact that I didn't know how their download system worked. That is how it goes, high glitch level functioning.

And the perps didn't waste much time before the deck in my vehicle started acting up; the CD source choice won't now show up unless I eject the CD and put it back in again. (It was working just fine for the prior six weeks). That messes up the playing order, as normally the CD player would start where I last left off. And to add more silliness, they also have the radio "bands", three FM and one AM, come up when the Source is being selected when they should only appear if I select the Band button when Source is the tuner. That is bad enough, but they have me listening to the same CD for weeks, when nothing this silly ever happened before when they last allowed me to have a vehicle, to mid-2006 (Volvo 245).

My trip to the ATM was well planned by the perps. All eight vehicles parked out front were grey-scale colors, white, silver-grey, mid-greys and black. My present vehicle is mid-grey, so that made it nine. I go to the ATM, and had to wait on this woman with a bill in hand and attempting to key something in from it, but was having problems, airing them out loud. She was in a mid-brown shirt, and eventually gave up to get help from the customer service person. I take my turn, get my bills, and lo, if this same brown shirt woman doesn't return with the customer service person. They natter for a minute or so, and I finish up. Based on this ruse, we have the same brown shirt gangstalking me before and after my financial transaction. And have I mentioned that the perps just love to gangstalk me, and otherwise harass me when making financial transactions? Nearly every blog posting I suspect. And too, there was a vehicle outside the window where the prior ATM customer was, and he was fiddling around to give me pit-lamping (arranged headlights) time. He had a green scout military cap on, and did that ever give me the heebie-jeebies for some reason. (Could of been a planted "reaction").

Earlier today, they had me putting money in the laundry machine, another form of financial transaction of course, and screwed it up by not having four different dollar coins work, causing me to consult the attendant there, and get some face time with her, cute and blonde as she was friendly. (And I don't get friendly very often, usually scared shitless for no apparent reason, or else rude or grim). Naturally the blonde woman got the coin machine to work, as it "happened" there was an extra dollar coin that "somehow" got stuck in the slot.

I went to one specialty foods place for some items, and the woman ahead of me at the cashier finished out her transactions and then it was my turn, with a hovering woman in the background who needed to be seen from various distances. (No one normal shops like she did, going from aisle end to the next aisle end to the next). I finished up in short order, and because they didn't have Almased, I went to the next nearby specialty food and vitamin shop. And lo, if the woman ahead of me at the cashier wasn't there too. Funny how that "happens".

And why suck over-obvious gangstalking?Two males sitting in a BMW in the specialty foods parking lot, and I walked behind them as I didn't know if they were about to depart. And lo, if they didn't, but like WTF; at 0800h, both nicely dressed and clean looking (and not looking like drug dealers), just sitting there. Back in early 2002, before the day of infamy when they invaded my apartment in Seattle (nearly 12 years ago now), I would stop at the supermarket I used before when I lived in Everett before moving to Seattle. (This would of been Sundays when I was S. bound on the I-5). I could not figure out why these vehicles would arrive in the parking lot around me, usually with one male sitting in it, and not letting anyone out to go to the store). I thought it was some kind of drug dealing event, though no one got out of their vehicle to "make arrangements". In hindsight, they were gangstalkers, doing their stupid thing, of loitering for no apparent reason. Nowadays, it is much more obvious, as there is often these "seat warmers" who sit in their vehicles outside banks, stores and again today, laundromats that I frequent.

A mostly shut-in day, though I did get out to do some errands. Like yesterday, a weekday off following working last weekend. And also, was all pumped up to go to the local gym and work out, but no, I somehow got jerked into spending time online and on the PC, rage-ified over the stream of obstructions in converting full album audio files with cue files into song track files. The usual litany of "problems"; access denied, invalid arguments, etc. when it all worked fine yesterday. Another few hours of attempts finally got the four music files converted and split into song tracks. Brutal it was, all that time expended on a mere file conversion.

All dressed up for yoga at 1630h (yoga at 1715h) and with some extra time to do some paper diary writing, why, a sudden "need" to sleep came over me, and to avoid dropping out of my chair, I laid down and got nailed for a full 1.5 hour nap attack in my yoga clothes. Why I had to be so dressed for a nap attack is beyond me, not to mention the dashed expectations stunt, a perp specialty. It was 1711h when they awoke me to look at my watch, which of course meant that I wasn't going to make it. (I figured that out when I "chose" to lie down). And which "happens" to be the exact same time I looked at my watch when they screwed me out of making yoga on Monday (two days ago, per above).

Anyhow, a work day on irrigation pipes and getting the system charged up. It felt like I had been hit on the head; slow and dull, and it was only when I got pissed about it did that imposed dullness recede some. And after working on fixing PVC pipes, meaning primer and glue for the morning did we attempt to pump water from the lake to the tank and observe for any leaks. And there was, and the two gents (family member and tractor driver/carpenter/all round handyman) that came for the afternoon jumped on all the tools and supplies I had been using in the morning to then fix the leaking pipe. (I was parked in the opposite corner of the vineyard so they got to the leak sooner than I did). It was beside the road, and water ran down the hill for a bit until it was stopped, and I still didn't get the full story on how the leak was stopped. This irrigation system is rather mysterious as to what controls what, and with two tanks and three sources of water, depending on the season, I haven't got my head around it all.

But as the perps have been testing me on PVC and water supply for such a long time, having a leak wasn't too much of a surprise. Back in 1996-98 when I owned a farm with the now ex, the underground water pipes were in sad shape with leaks in the ground and I had it all dug up, some 600' in all, and I put in the pipe and built the connections at the junction boxes, and sand underneath and above once installed. That was a $5k hit on my credit card, and little did I know that it was caused by an insane psychopathic agency who are on a non-consensual human research agenda, and I am one of their top guinea pigs. The leaks were so many that the quarterly consumption dropped by ten-fold, from 660,000 gallons to 60,000 gallons (120psi pressure was typical). As it was farm rates the cost wasn't that high, but still, the drop in consumption was significant. And no doubt that cute landscaped pond in the front yard was fed from the underground pipe leaks, the ones I didn't know about until it was dug up. And so it goes, the perps' constant pre-occupation with where I get my water from, the color of the pipes, the soil type and color it runs through and whatever else goes into their big data grinder in the sky.

After telling me all day yesterday about going to the gym, they finally let me go at 1830h. It was the first time I had been to this particular one, and apart from few (~6) gym visits at the local college in 2012, it was the first gym visit since 2007 when they stocked the Oak Bay Recreation Center heavy with gangstalkers of all kinds. They let me on the tread mill, often of interest to the perps and then they shut me down in the past along with street running. I got some 15 min. running at 5mph, nothing spectacular to say the least, but as the perps have a long history of interfering with running, I was glad for some activity. It might help atone for the chocolate indulgence they put me on, per above.

The gangstalking count was fairly low at the gym, some five others or so, and four of them wearing blue tops, just like me. One male had a severe case of tattoos, on his bald head, down his arm and on his legs. A disgusting specimen to say the least, but true to form, they like to pack in as many Unfavoreds in one gangstalker as they can; male over 20 y.o., bald, tattoos, and fugly shorts.

Why is it that the perps need to pull my pants halfway down my ass while working in the vineyard? It has been going on for some months now, and very often they will chose that moment to force a gust of wind down the crack of my ass. Sure, they are stretchy material, but were always comfortable and never any problem until recently. No, I don't have a svelte waist to have my pants fall into place, but still, I never had this problem before. Long time readers may recall when I was working on a farm in 2010 (I think), one girl wore her track pants halfway down her gorgeous ass, even after she had visited the portable john. That takes planning, and was no means a result of working hard on the farm.

An afternoon of helping out getting the water supply hooked up with the neighboring apple farmer's son. He isn't all quite there I later learned and cannot make a decision about very much. Anyhow, we were in the creek gully, cutting out some trees and shrubs in the way and inserting a new section of aluminum 5" pipe with a steel joining section (pastel green colored). I had my gumboots on so I could stand in the water if need be, and he had his runners that got soaked. He did this earlier this week, so I would surmise the perps told him to get his feet wet for the cause. Strangely, this guy brought in a 20' section of 3" PVC pipe and placed it in the bush over the creek. And as it "so happens" with this shared weir and four outlets, one was made of the same size of PVC and the owner/property maintenance person did not shut down the water supply in the fall, and it froze, sending PVC shards all over the place, for at least 150' of pipe. Said guilty party took off for another job in another town, but supposedly she was a professionally trained viticulturalist, and it is likely that this would not of been of her own initiative. I say that, not having met the person, because the perps just love me to hang around, touch, repair or otherwise dwell around water sources and the differing materials of transmission, e.g. PVC, polyethylene, aluminum, concrete channels etc. Why the above mentioned fellow I was helping brought in a new section of PVC pipe for someone else's broken water line is beyond me, save having a new and old pipe comparison objective. And all the more strange, just one 20' section when there was at least 150' of broken pipe. He also gathered up the PVC shards and pieces, saying that he was doing the neighborly thing of cleaning it up. Since when did a shared resource become so fussed over in farming country? Since the perps imposed their very specific fixations/non-consensual human research agenda on this victim (me) in 04-2002. All in keeping with the above mentioned PVC and water transmission and water source research the perps are so obsessed about.

A Saturday off, a reversion to the expected schedule, disrupted for the past two weekends. I saw this blues performer last night; a great show and an accomplished musician of considerable talent. I suppose all roots/blues musicians are adjusted to reality and know they aren't going to be household celebs. Or icons of the heavy metal crowd. The "usual" stray reflective lights finding me, often from the glossy guitar face. And drive by lights from outside "happened" to be reflected off the inside of my glasses, even if facing away from them. And the ridiculous laughing from someone nearby, same as the last time, and likely the same stooge. She also doing a "huggies" thing (the long lost pals hugs BS), with the woman from whom I later purchased the performer's CD from.

As "usual" they put a skinheaded male in my sight line, and some fugly folks all about me. I was checking out the blonde girl from across the venue, and never did get enough lighting to see for sure if she was attractive. Though, as it "happened", she and some associates were just ahead of me when heading for the washroom at the set break, and they turned around just in front of me as the ladies' rest room was fully occupied. Said blonde woman ended up beside me in the crush/cluster fuck, but I did not check her out from that close as it would of been plain rude. I don't do rude, and I don't need to check out attractive women either, but the perps like me to do so, in the great Potemkin Village called TI World and its parade of the Favored (attractive blonde females among others) and the Unfavored (males over 20, long haired males, etc.).

And the Almased diet effort is now ended, as the perps were sucking me down to being physically listless and sapped of motivation and initiative. I had envisioned that the diet would run its course of six weeks to no effect, but no, that is not how it ended. It is being used as an excuse to suck me into a dark place, and I have already been there an number of times in the long past. The timing of this realization occurred after I had purchased two more canisters of the yellow Almased powder, so no doubt having it in association with my regular breakfast will be the subject of the perps continuing games as to what color my food is. (And adding brown colored milled flax seed too, as it has been a recent addition to my diet). And they screwed me out of recalling what my regular breakfast was this morning. And no interest in purchasing more eggs has erupted since some six or eight weeks ago, which was the first such food item since 2002/3 apart from a couple of gotchas.

The laundry capers again, this time getting to the laundromate later (1100h) than usual and finding one woman running some eight washing machines simultaneously. That takes some planning and a big family (or else a large wardrobe and a long interval between launderings), and of course that constricted me to a location where the shiftless gangstalking males loitered.

I cleaned the outside of my vehicle and then waxed it this afternoon, a considerable accomplishment as the perps like to screw me out of doing this task twice per year. And for the three hours it took to apply Zymol (pastel green color) on the just washed (red colored foam from the brush at the cleaning bay) vehicle there was near non-stop motorcycle noise from a distance and very chirpy birds nearby. And for once they didn't splatter me lots with the liquid wax, save a few splatters from the flip top that somehow ejected micro-droplets straight at me. I don't quite know why the perps are so dizzy about applying wax to a vehicle, but as always, I would be the last to know anyhow.

And too, they were on top of me at the car wash; three empty cleaning bays when I arrived, and then within a minute I had someone waiting behind me while I was busy applying the foam brush and then the rinse afterword. And I suppose it was no coincidence that the red foam dyed part of my right hand, and it served as a reference for all the while that I waxed the vehicle.

Another perp oddity today was that a good chunk of one tooth fell into what I had in my mouth at the time, a soft food. It isn't the first time this has occured, but it seems to be the last mercury amalgam filled tooth in my mouth, so I cannot say it is a bad thing. It means a crown from amateur dental perspective, and those are at least $1k. And that is a BAD thing, getting constantly dinged for big ticket expenses like that, which the perps just love to do. I suspect one of their mantras is something like, "get the victim while he is down".

Sunday, and much of nothing; cleaning house and cleaning my vehicle, all with good weather outside. Same deal as yesterday; much HD motorcycle noise when cleaning the inside of my vehicle. What a relief to see that layer of dust on all horizontal surfaces. Sharp and crisp lines of the controls instead of the fuzzy (and FUD-dy) surfaces. For whatever reason the perps are wild about that, having played the dust build up games for as long as they have.

Onto posting this as a dull Sunday evening is shaping up.


Anonymous said...

McDonalds, Walmart, Starbucks and major supermarket chains are the absolute worst for being tormented when patronizing a business.
There isn't one single store of those chains where as a TI I was and am not effected.

They are Legion, for they are Many.

You are an individual.
They are a Group, like a corporation. they Cannot operate independently from each other.

They , Legion, Envy you and your sovereignty of individuality.

They show their power by forming Corporations as monuments to their Power which are also monuments to their lack of individuality and sovereignty, their "Co-dependence"

They want you to fit into their Spread sheet.

Anonymous said...

Why is it that the perps need to pull my pants halfway down my ass while working in the vineyard? It has been going on for some months now, and very often they will chose that moment to force a gust of wind down the crack of my ass. Sure, they are stretchy material, but were always comfortable and never any problem until recently. No, I don't have a svelte waist to have my pants fall into place, but still, I never had this problem before. Long time readers may recall when I was working on a farm in 2010 (I think), one girl wore her track pants halfway down her gorgeous ass

It is probably a Bible Metaphor for Shame.

so the king of Assyria will lead away the captives of Egypt and the exiles of Cush, young and old, naked and barefoot with buttocks uncovered, to the shame of Egypt.