10-21-2014
What is it about power washers that the perps like to sabotage so much? Yesterday, the electric cold water power washer was on the fritz; loosing pressure, then regaining it, only to stutter and repeat the cycle. I was washing winery bins and tanks, and found this continual washing pressure fluctuation to be highly annoying, if not near dysfunctional.
At the vineyard/winery we are on the fourth power washer, and the above mentioned one is the most reliable. The two big box store purchased ones didn't cut it, and one was cannibalized in an attempt to fix the other. The electric power washer came last year and has run for two hours on one job, and not on most others. Then the used Banda/Honda one came a few months ago that has a gasoline engine with a diesel heater to heat the water, and lo, if the thing wasn't plugged up, and once fixed, it won't start because of a solenoid problem. But it has a starter pull cord, and lo, the cord won't retract, and it cannot be manually started either. Today, the electric power washer behaved itself for the most part, save the first 20 minutes of fluctuating pressure.
Power washer sabotage goes back to the early 1990's when I first rented one. It started fine and ran for ten minutes until I had to shut it off for some external reason. After that, it wouldn't start at all. I took it back and they told me it was likely a pump problem. Like WTF; a long running small business that takes excellent care of their rental tools, and lo, it wouldn't work. As mentioned in past blogs, the perps are consumed with the properties of water and it sources; e.g. rain water, lake water, irrigation pipes and colors, faucets, fittings and PVC glue color, valves etc. So I suppose, power washers represent another link in the chain, this being a particular delivery type for pressurized water (and noise). And too, they encourage other proximate neighbors to do power washing too.
Yoga was yesterday, and there were a few unusual events in the gangstalk theme. One UK accented male (seen before) clammed up once I detected the accent and he was in the furthest corner from me. Some ten minutes into the class this fat oaf of a male comes in and sets up beside me. There were plenty of other vacant spots, but no, he made a beeline for this one beside me. Worse yet, he was wearing brown colored shorts (two Unfavored on top of the first two, male over 20yo. and being fat), and was clearly out of his league (wheezing and gasping as he was) as to the yoga poses. I have never seen this Fuckwit before, and it all looked way too obvious as a planted shill. Some yoga snobbery perhaps, but if the gangstalk scene is so highly choreographed as to EVERYTHING, especially at yoga, I get plain annoyed at any diminution or perturbation of this rare respite (somewhat) in any given week.
The darling pixie yoga instructor was her usual perky self, and wore tights that looked almost like batik, with the lurid colors and color mixing. In other words, it wasn't so easy picking out her gorgeous form. Though the pattern and color on her tights was suggestive of tattoos, and I am sure that was deliberate, as the perps know I loathe the sight of tattoos. And yes, there were a few discrete tattoos among the 12 women classmates, unlike last week when one had a 6" diameter tattoo design on her shoulder. Last week was also interesting as it was a Fat Girl instructor, but they put the lithe Star Girl between me and the instructor. That is, one to engage my "attractiveness meter" and the other to engage my Unfavored Feature loathing, or more like, subconscious traumatization/repulsion that was invoked during the "lost years", aged 2 to 5. Not that I was "lost", but nearly all my recall was wiped. Two of those years were in Montreal, a special place for MKULTRA activities at that time, 1956-59. [Rare overhead helicopter noise overhead as I wrote this at 1920h (dark)].
More cleaning at the winery, most of the day. The boss man has gone to Vancouver and the boss lady is gone too. I get to feed the cat in the morning. Which means for the perps, they get to abuse and harass me (like usual), but I get to yell at them out loud (vocalized complaints) instead of using hoarse whispers of the same content; e.g. swearing at them when they flick water in my face, pull the power washer wand from my grasp, kink the hoses for the umpteenth time of the day etc. This pattern of being "abandoned" to be harassed all the more was evident back in 2004 when my perp abetting brother would give me gardening jobs and then take off to be absent when extra harassment was applied. Nothing new there.
10-22-2012
A shooting incident on Parliament Hill, with tragic consequences.... Press the next button up on the world events blender, as in creating more strife, angst and internecine problems. I don't mean to trivialize or be trite about such tragedies, but it just seems that that firearms use and dying perpetrators are just what the perps live so much.
Mail holdups again; my forklift certification was sent Oct. 09 and had to travel from the source (college) to the PO, all of four blocks, and then to me, two blocks from the PO. I don't see why the regular post office snail mail should take so fricking long. Ditto, on my CD order; sent from Portland OR on Oct. 05, and gets here today, along with the above mentioned mail. And did they really need to rip off a corner to find out the contents were exactly as described? I doubt it, if they can X-ray baggage at airports, X-ray shipping containers etc.
10-23-2014
A big day in perp land; visiting the urologist for a prostate exam. Not only that, the paranoia they have inculcated me with over the past two months about having prostate cancer due to increased urination has been dispelled by way of the PSA test result. A 3.5, down from 4.7 six months ago, and I am declared to have a good prostate health, and will need to see the specialist in a year. So... why all the increased urination that began after Labor Day. Stay tuned, another test and who knows. Another Rx in the interim to see if there is a result. Possible spasms of the bladder or ureter or whatever. I know a crowd who can deliver spasms from a distance; back in the early 1970's my eye lid would spasm on me, and I saw the doctor who prescribed a tranquilizer and lo, that fixed it. Now I know how that one got started and ended.
And of course extra games going on before and after the momentous day (for the perps). I drove to Naramata to get a food order, my nuts and seeds thing. And of course I get brazil nuts as they have lots of selenium in them, good for prostate health. All to find out that I could of got the usual pecans. But as these brazil nuts are from Peru, and possibly the S hemisphere, that just might be the real reason the perps cooked this one up in the sequence they did. They like me to interact with Australians and others S of the equator.
A very gusty day, and lo, if the last time I drove to Naramata about a month ago, why, it was very gusty too.
Other bullshit tonight was that a mug hanging from a securely fastened cup hook fell down and smashed my glass teapot. Yes, you read it right; the mug was hanging, like it always does (18 months worth here) and then this horrific crash noise erupted, but I could not see what happened by looking at the kitchen counter where the noise came from. I am inured to loud noises coming from nowhere, and thought it was all about scaring me shitless. A few minutes later I visit the cupboard and there is all the glass shards on plates and bowls below. The assholes broke a glass coffee carafe back in 2003, and they let me see it cleave apart from some unbidden force. Within a month, they broke the Bodum glass teapot, the variant with the plastic handle attached to the glass. I bought the same teapot, though this time it came with a glass handle, which looked more classy. About 2009 the teapot was still important enough that the perps had me replace the plastic infusion basket with a stainless steel one. I fear that this model might not be findable again and I am going to get stiffed with a inferior substitute. They plan such details well in advance.
And will this carnage ever end? Yet another school shooting, not at the begging or end of term, but tragic all the same. And why do the perps want blood, gore and dying students/victims in educational contexts. In April of this year, there was five Univiersity of Calgary students knifed by a rampaging student, though off campus.
And to add my piece of possible related speculation into why massacres are so frequent at schools and among students; it just might relate to the Perps' Objectives, as they like to hound my ass whenever I learn something, reject knowledge that is erroneous, and by extension, the whole of epistemological theory. That is, the perps are also consumed by the theory of knowledge, and where it may come from, how it was formed, used etc. Way back in about 1988 I went to a GIS (Geographic Information System) conference in San Antonio. I found a seat at one presentation, and like now, the seats beside me remained unfilled until the lecture started, and at the end the fellow who took the seat mentioned something to me, and I replied, and he said something to the effect of the difficulty of defining knowledge. I agreed it was loose concept, and that was the end of that. In hindsight, that person was probably a perp operative and was instructed to drop the concept in my mind. I am presently reading "The Fabric of Reality" and one of the four main quantum world pillars is epistemology. Anyhow, just conjecture, but what I know from where, whom, in what context and all possible facets is of extreme interest to the perps.
10-25-2014
Saturday, and off to the vineyard/winery to check on the five fermentations going on. Only for two hours or so, as the boss man is back from Vancouver and will likely not want me working any extra time. He had me take two days off in advance to negate extra hours.
And lo, if the same kind of vehicle trains, (single lane vehicular gangstalking formations) of red, white with escorting grey scale colors weren't in place, going the opposite direction. It was 0900h on a Saturday, and the excuse, aka cover story, of weekday commuters is now blown, if it ever was credible in the first place.
Laundry in the afternoon, different than the usual weekend morning. No half dressed Frenchie wackos this time, but extra laundromat patrons to be sure. Even the owner couple/wife got into it, not staring at me this time, but dressing in mid-brown pants and a fuschia colored top. Way fugly.
The nearby green grocery store was the prime clusterfuck venue of the day; one tubby dude got in way too close at the mushroom section and then went around me to the other side. Within 10 seconds of him vacating my presence, another dude arrived beside me unannounced, one of the store stocker/stalkers. No manners in this town it seems (Penticton). And they know exactly when to close in, as I was loading a paper bag full of mushrooms for the week ahead. Said tubby dude later reprised gangstalking around the corner of an aisle, "happened" to be ahead of me at the checkout, and was in the parking lot too when I exited.
Shopping for a replacement teapot last night turned out to be pointless; I met the elder blonde woman at the kitchen section who didn't know what Bodum was, even if that particular department store is listed as retailer. Ditto for the iconic Seattle coffee chain; though she was young, her nose seemed to be featured with her forward facing nostrils that were plenty visible. (Hmmm, I wonder if this another Unfavored feature as two prior stalkers this year had very similar nostrils?)
Besides the teapot smashing yesterday, many things have become extra kinetic over and above the extra kinetic objects I experience every day. If two items are side my side, and apart, and I reach to grasp one of them, why, the other will vibrate and move by itself, with no contact from me or the grasped object. This escalation of extra kinetics has crossed the line from barely plausible and statistically untenable to totally implausible for every instance of such an event.
Ditto this morning when I finished my shower after shaving; one look in the mirror and lo, a black pubic hair (very bent and contorted) was on my face. I don't have any such colored pubic hairs whatsoever; so how did it get there and from whom? This hair placement prank/harassment has also been escalated in the past month or so, and at the most improbable moments; long (5+") blonde hairs, ditto for black ones, and often timed during when I am plucking my own hairs from my cheeks. Cheek and chest hair plucking is almost always accompanied my blackish masers following the extracted hair as I flick it into the sink, or else following my fingers in cleaning off the tweezers. Often, the same hair is teleported back near the facial location it was extracted from during a moment's inattention. So what is it about hair that the perps find so intensely vital? Do they have certain properties as they grow, and do they need to have my hairs energetically interact with those of others in my presence? And of course, like anything else that goes down the drain, the perps find that fascinating too.
The perps' hair obsession goes way back I suspect. Three Newfoundland dogs, serially owned, had long black coats. The last Newfie was when my ex and I were together. I could never figure out why the ex would not ever comb the dog's coat and leave it to me to do. It was combed every 8 weeks or so, probably not often enough, and it was plenty obvious that the dog's hair needed maintenance by the time I got to it. And it isn't too much of a surprise that some of the female gangstalkers have long black gorgeous manes, the most noticeable recent occurrence being at yoga. She "happened" to be driving by when I was on my way there, and effectively vehicularly (in lead ahead mode) gangstalked me to the parking lot outside yoga, and then inside the practice studio. I hadn't seen her before, and perhaps she was there just for that. As mentioned above, I was distracted by this late arriving male oaf for much of the class. Anyone else out there in TI hell get these hairs of foreign origin dropping in on them?
10-26-2014
A hike today, after working on wine fermenting at the vineyard. I was to pick up 25lb of onions at the farm where the trailhead is, and dutifully phoned ahead per instructions, but no one responded to the messages on the answering machine. So.... another visit there sometime soon to get this one squared away. A hike in some rain, cloud and both females of the gangstalking hiking couples wore deep red tops, not unlike the red wine I was working with. And too, my vehicular escort on the way there had me covered with a deep red colored vehicle, swapping one out for another, three different vehicles the same color in all, plus others coming the opposite direction.
And it is late October, and still the motorcycle presentation "offensive" is still on. I am talking about them being parked on the streets as visible props; there are now ten regularly parked within two blocks of me along all my access routes to my residence. Yet again, in the pre-harassment days, it was a given that displaying parked motorcycles in front of one's house was an invitation to certain motorcycle gangs to steal it. But now, for some reason, the perps need to populate my locale with them, and no thefts whatsoever. Funny how that happens. And for all the MKULTRA and contemporaneous stories of organized child abuse, I still don't have a handle on why motorcycles could be part of the perp's abreaction baiting games.
Late Sunday evening, and I am not feeling too inspired for any more reportage, read, remotely applied invasive mind dithering. Nothing new there.
Sunday, October 26, 2014
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