Sunday, October 05, 2014

Monday Antics

The perps had me drive the forklift into a bit of a hole on the gravel driveway, and lo, if one wheel didn't come up and it was stuck. It is not the first time this has happened here with forklifts, but a first for me to have done it. And LOL, I just got my forklift certification two days ago.

Yoga today, two males, and some 10 females. One dude was placed in ahead of me which is the first time they have pulled this variation in two years of yoga at this location. And lo, one came later just before class start. The darling pixie instructor was her usual chipper self and doing lots of adjustments on everyone, that is, touches while doing various aspects of poses. At one point she was "adjusting" me by holding my raised heel, and I cannot count the number of times in yoga that I have heard about chi energies emanating from one's heel.

I was one mat space removed from my usual spot in the yoga class which stayed vacated the whole time so the instructor could walk on it, through or stand there. It would seem the perps are looking for area-area energetic correlations between female yoga instructors, as the substitute instructor of five weeks ago did the same thing in identical circumstances.

I left work two hours early as there was a unforecasted rain squall sitting over Skaha Lake and it didn't want to move on. It was one of those with sunlit patches in it, and every so often I would drive through a sunlit patch while it continued to rain. I had my gangstalking consort ahead of me, four greyscale colors and a light tan brown in the middle of the pack. The three immediately in front of me took the same L turn as I did, to cover me for a three more minutes.

And the boss man said he wouldn't have any need for me past the end of the year. And then proceeded to tell me about a job posting that was two weeks old at another vineyard. (They would want to hire immediately, so I get it; feel free to leave anytime.
And why didn't he tell me this 8 weeks ago when there was a number of cellar hand jobs for crissakes?) He speaks in codes does my boss, and one can readily figure that perhaps he doesn't want me there at all as we approach annual commercial wine making.

His stated plans to keep 8 tons of grapes for his own winery seem to be mushy. He told his daughter over the phone that he would be selling all the grapes he could. I cannot believe anything coming from him I have learned in the past 2.5 years, though telling me to look for work elsewhere is a hint I can take for sure.

Vegetable garden digging, some weeding, netting set up, and other miscellaneous chores at the vineyard. But at least it got warm today.

Another mandated non-work Friday. That is, the boss said that when the grape harvest and winemaking begins, I will have plenty of extra hours and I must take four days off in advance, this being the second. Just when I thought I could get some extra hours, why, I get shut down. As in the long familiar perp stunt, the "dashed expectations" jerkaround. Though most likely they planted the expectations in the first place, and arranged this scripted scenario to support another planted notion of the boss' financial affairs are headed south, which I don't believe for a second. The reason being that nearly all employers come up roses after having me work there; new buildings, tractors, etc. Which also applies to most workplace colleagues too; new jobs, new businesses, vehicle, major house renovations etc. Funny how that "happens", though there is one apparent exception among employers.

The post-victim harassment involvement compensation plan for employers has one notable exception if the news feed has it correctly, always a moot point as to the reality for this kept Potemkin Villager (me). That would be Vantrieght Farms, where I worked summers, one fall, and two spring time daffodil pickings from 2008 to 2011 with the swarming (gangstalking)  co-workers. The farm seems to have come up short financially, as they couldn't meet their debts and taxes, the latter triggering their bankruptcy. At one time they had over 200 farm worker employees, though I wasn't there then, as they had some 10-30 in the summers I worked, and a regular crew of 6 Mexicans. Their residential real estate ambitions got held up for at least four years, all the way to the Supreme Court of Canada, and that might of been their saving ticket had it come to be. So yes, there are apparent exceptions to the trail of rewards which follows me, but is not permitted in my instance. For the record, the perps have taken me down financially twice with the then-wife, and one more time this year since she became the ex. And may I say it is just so much fun to live paycheck to paycheck for the first time in my 40 year employment history. As in NOT, and then they throw the above mentioned impending employment termination just to make it worse. Though to put this in perspective, I haven't done the homeless gig like other TI's, but who knows.

And why did my CDBaby online transaction get screwed up again? First, the name and address data didn't get saved from my account update and had to be re-keyed, then the assholes caused the transaction to go into an infinite loop, and presumably it didn't go through. I can count on at least 30% of my online transactions "barfing" in some technical, read sabotaged, manner.

A second attempt got me through the above CD/download purchase, but gosh darn if the download part of it didn't malfunction. Soo... I will try again later today, all in keeping with the perps' mandate to delay, sabotage, obstruct all matters, especially related to financial transactions, though downloads, emails, digital transfers count too. And this particular artist had only four CDS showing on the first attempt, and then six on the second attempt, but I only ordered the original four. And what is the point of that fuckery?

I made 9 liters of salsa this morning, a four hour job once the cleaning got done. The tomatoes came from my employer's vegetable garden, the mystery remaining as to why they have one when they don't even eat the produce. The salsa making, replete with food processor was quite a messy event, and all the more so for parboiling to remove the skins. Having red mess, red food splatter and red salsa mess was way too much red color games for the perps. And I should not of been too surprised at the extra red colored vehicles about me on this Friday in early October, with intense road traffic congestion for some reason. (Tourist season is over).

Though I was surprised to find my Rx refill at LD was not made up. After taking the same generic (yellow and white colored capsule) tricyclic medication for the past 12 years, why, they aren't making this particular one in generic form any more. But of course, the Great Food, Beverage and Rx Controller, especially when it comes to the color of all such substances, has now decided that they need me to take the same medication but in a different colored capsule. Twelve years of intensive abuse and nonconsensual human subject research, aka relentless harassment, and here they are putzing with medication color. Ditto for the forced and increased urination fuckery earlier this year, which forced me off coffee for the first time in my adult life. Are they getting anywhere or are they just being stupid again? Interesting that both reasons/excuses are reasonably permanent, and would be less likely to be reversed in the conventional world.

And as it "happened", the pharmacy's access to their Rx network was down, and I had to go back to the LD store 30 minutes later to find out how much the cost of the replacement Rx would be. Then as it "happened" they had to order it in, so that will take a few days more. Which runs me out of medication altogether, another long standing perp stunt. Long time readers will note the theme label of "yellow color gangstalking on no yellow medication days, ", which references this same state; orchestrated "forgets" or lapses in taking this particular tricyclic medication, and the unerring increased exposure to same yellow colored vehicles and gangstalker clothing. It will be interesting to find out what color the replacement medication will be and if there is another color coincidence among the vehicular gangstalking population. (I looked it up online; white with black and orange bands and print).

As expected, no contact for the cellar hand job I replied to yesterday, via fax. And who does faxing these days, save lawyers? In the realm of online job boards and employment print ads, if the prospective employer requests responses by snail mail and/or fax, it is code for "don't bother to reply, as we have a foreign worker(s) lined up and by using non-traceable replies (mail and fax) is how to ensure no apparent local replies". That is how it goes in Canada; government run online employment/job boards are nothing but a prior obligatory requirement for a foreign worker hiring exercise. Yes, I have reason to be cynical about such, as I get so few responses in the agricultural employment realm, and have come to know of instances of job postings that are filled entirely by visa-ed Mexicans arranged six months in advance.

That said, the event of faxing from the vineyard got obstructed by the fax machine not working twice and an file protection problem that had to be fixed. I gave up and faxed it later from Staples, replete with extra gangstalking coverage and the ubiquitous coffee cup that got left nearby, and the copy assistant moving it to ask me if it was mine. No, and of course I don't need a brown color reference nearby when I fax, but someone else thinks I do. And I won't talk about the prior mega-crap the perps pulled on me either.

A real Saturday, unlike yesterday and not working. I reflected on above CD purchase and by the time it crosses the border and I pay taxes and shipping, it will be $100. Like WTF; I know I have to save every penny and limit expenditures such as music purchases, which is what I had been doing. Then suddenly this blatant mind-fuck "lapse". All to "exercise" my new credit card, the replacement of the one in the stolen wallet, since found. Or perphaps, to have me order CD's via a new found artist.

Sunday, and first starting with the red salsa I froze a few days ago, and has now thawed. I put it through a fine mesh sieve, a woven stainless steel mesh, and it passes the watery component through and retains a concentrated form. All to render 9L of salsa down to 3L, though chunkier. If I had room in my fridge to store all the watery component for stocks and the like I would of, but alas, limited freezer room at the tail end of the harvest. Besides, the perps just love sending all manner of things down the drain, and a "pre-sample" of this salsa that will be slowly consumed over the winter suits them just fine.

A hike back to McIntyre Bluff like last week, sans company. And what a glorious warm day, finally getting some September weather in October. Plenty of motorcycles on the road, one who was S bound while I was N bound, and distinguished himself by riding 8' from the bumper of the vehicle in front at highway speeds. And on the driver's side, close to the centerline. And not 10 minutes later this same mofo is riding my bumper while still headed N. Like WTF; can we get any more blatant vehicular gangstalking coverage than this; motorcycles, a fave gangstalking vehicle, doing 180 degree turns in the highway to then ride my ass? I pulled off at a pull out that was conveniently just ahead when I noticed the asshole and the mofo went ahead to then hound the blue Impreza ahead. One particular year looks sweet from the back, and it just "happened" to be this one in a fave color. Don't ask me what it all means to the Psychopathic Confederacy.

Then in the afternoon, a session of making green salsa from tomatoes, but I only got part way through the 20lb. I froze them, and in a few days I will strain them too. I suppose my hike in the wood today was a "green color setup", as it seemed there were plenty of green vehicles on the way back. One particularly odd vehicular gangstalker stood out; a dude in green camo with a light (and obvious) green helmet on, not in camo on a moped. It looked ridiculous to say the least, but little did I know it was a harbinger of my green salsa making. The verdant green tomatoes turn a olive green after boiling for 5 or 10 minutes as they become soft. In other words, a green transition, and boy do the perps love testing me on slow color transitions, e.g. steeping tea in a glass teapot. The greens of the motorcyclist didn't quite line up with the salsa, but there were other greens enroute.

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