Monday, December 28, 2015

2015 High and Low Lights

A year end summary of some new aspects of the present harassment and non-consensual human experimentation abuse that has arisen in 2015.

This is being composed while staying at the First Feral Family house in Victoria, BC Canada, which if nothing else has served to disrupt my regular vitamin, supplement and medication intake, all of which is of intense non-consensual human experimentation (perp) interest.

The perps are allowing me to eat more colored foods; reds (e,g. peppers (not just red on the outside like apples), yellow (corn, squash)) and of all things, eating them in the same meal. Given their insane preoccupation over red and yellow colors, usually in the form of placed vehicles and gangstalker clothing, eating foods of these colors in the same sitting is truly a major event in their color-energetics games.

After dropping grains and carbohydrates (mostly) from my diet in early 2015, the perps are having me purchase and eat quinoa for whatever reason. In early 2015 they even had me drop my 1x/day 6" gluten free corn tortilla out of "concern", per recent book reading, that it was too much equivalent sugar. Not that any weight was lost.

And in 10-2015, after starting L-tyrosine and L-phenylalanine they had me reduce my chocolate consumption of some 300g/day, to now less than 100g/day. Which may also related to forcing me to drop coffee in 03-2015, per urologist's suggestion, to address the excessive pissing problem they laid on me then. (And re-started in 10-2015). That is, the perps were "de-browning" my food intake after this forced regimen of some 13 years, ever since this insane abuse-a-thon began in 04-2002. Though it may also relate to them removing coffee's neuroprotective effects.

On the food related information provenance front, the perps are having me search and then follow more recipes. And as usual, I am not allowed to follow them exactly, but to improvise, another hallmark of their mind fuckery by forcing variation. Also, the perps are allowing more food combination complexity, that is, doubling the number of ingredients on select dishes.

On the related unconventional gravitics harassment fuckery, more food flicking is erupting; e.g. I sweep my hand/knife/dishes cleaning brush/etc. rightward (say), and lo, if somehow a piece of food doesn't somehow eject leftward and thereby fly by some unbidden force to then cause more mess to clean up, or else, cause me to add the food to the cooking dinner separately. More variation in food placement it would seem. And too, more food hopping off the cutting board and onto the floor at my feet, and fucking me out of catching it before it falls.
Supplements, Prescriptions
In 10-2015 I dropped the tricyclic Rx (of 12 years) and took L-phenylanlanine, L -tryrosine, and later, acetyl-L-carnitine in its place, and felt better. (Plus the testosterone helped I suspect, but of course my complete mental being is controlled down to the last brain cell it would seem). This sea change in dopaminergic function was prompted by the sudden onset of fuckery in having me piss far too often.

In late 08-2015 I started Rx prescribed testosterone and another hormone, all under the care of the good doctor, about the second one I have known in my life. (Though as often, this could change as the perps like to arrange persons who earn my trust and then screw me around or otherwise go strange on me). The testosterone was first a dermal application, but based on the subsequent blood tests it was not increasing much. In early 12-2015 I began the self-injection method, and of course that fit with another perp Unfavored scene, that of syringes, needles, medical materiel etc.

Back in 2006 when the perps ran me out of my former employer's disability (har, har) benefit I had to give up the Rx testosterone at the time. (I took it since 2000). Though no doctor thought of testing me to see what the level was and if it was effective until the aforementioned good doctor. Funny how that happen; rampant unprofessional clinical practice, though I suspect it won't be just a historical event.

Health Conditions
The aforementioned pissing frequency came on in 02-2015, and then I appeared to "solve" it with a supplement. Then in 10-2015 when I got busy with two jobs and missed a week of the supplement the problem came back and has stayed, no matter that I resumed the supplement. Back in 02-2015 I told the urologist that the Rx he prescribed wasn't working after a week, he tells me to see my GP. How absolutely unprofessional and irresponsible is that? I don't have a GP, but I did tell the drop-in clinic doctor at the time and she rolled her eyes in disbelief.

Said urologist blew me off again in 10-2015 when I told him it is very likely that the "tiny bladder" problem was likely dopamine deficiency related, as I have a SPECT brain scan which shows ADD, a dopamine deficiency problem. And that Parkinson's disease, (a failing dopamine generating brain region, patients also have this symptom too. Later, when I saw the good doctor and explained this to her, she said, "there is nothing I can do". Talk about a red rag to a bull.

And I spent the spring and summer researching testosterone and "discovered" that dopamine and testosterone levels are highly correlated; if one is low on one it is likely that one is low on the other. Funny how I had to find this out myself, with perp aided remotely planted suggestions of course. I even read an up-to-date book on healing ADD and there was no mention of the dopamine-testosterone connection. (And no mention of this back in 1998 to 2002 when I researched ADD heavily and even attended a national US conference on ADD when I lived there, likely an arranged coincidence. And where I met Ms. L of the story, per Pages).

And so it would seem the perps are back on their dopamine and testosterone research agenda after jerking me around in 2002 by removing my then very helpful stimulant medication, and then giving me dopamine blocking medications which totally drained me of mental function, while illegally incarcerated. (The putative medical condition was later recanted). And how medically professional is that, giving a proven (per SPECT brain scan) dopamine deficient patient a dopamine antagonist, that is, blocking the function of the very neurotransmitter they are short of? Did I say that 99% of my doctor interactions have been at least professionally negligent, if not criminal? Not often enough the more I think about what I have just written.

I have always been surprised how fast the dishes dry in the dishes rack in the kitchen, even if the room temperature is a moderate 20C (68F), no matter where I lived. That is, until this year, and now into the third year of residence at this location. Which now forces me to use tea towels, joining the rest of the non-dishwasher owning world. This, and other fuckery made it abundantly clear that the perps did not want me to towel dry my dishes; I was OK with this intervention. But in 2015, and with the same room temperature, the dishes just don't dry like they did and I now use a tea towel (white with black and grey stripes) to dry them before putting them away. And this is a HUGE perp advancement in their remotely applied and monitored fuckery. Imagine the mentality of the assholes who can remotely invoke energies/physical events to expedite the drying of dishes over 13 years of sustained abuse/research and now changing their methods to allow me to physically dry dishes with a towel. And we have a long way to go on this front I suspect.

Disruption Fuckery
The extra-conventional gravitic fuckery delivered to enrage me has increased at least 10% this year. Screaming at the assholes often erupts when I come through a door (house, car, gate) and often when I prepare food, especially when cutting up cooked meat.

I am getting blanked out on all the stunts they pulled this year, and they have me too lazy to read my own postings to provide a summary. Same as for my written diaries in the past, though now they "forgetted" me on hand writing this trail of ruination. Nothing of substantial embarassment or exceptional mind-fuckery comes to "mind", as likely they just don't want me to dwell and write on this topic.

Two pairs of boots isn't enough as it "happened" in 2015. They alternated breaking apart, and at least twice, I changed my boots at the local shoemakers to put on the just-repaired pair to then turn in the pair I had been wearing all day on the vineyard job. The shoemaker didn't help any as his repairs didn't work that well, which included a $112 re-sole job that lasted a whole three months, his version of a "better performing sole" after he unilaterally changed the model he promised me. The original sole lasted two years and lo, if the same manufacturer's replacement sole didn't last three months.

When confronted with my annoyance that shoemaker wasn't going to eat it, and he told me of another possible solution which sounded way too involved. So, he being the only act in town, meant that I was screwed down to a single pair, and lo, despite repeated (3x, then, 4x on the year) sole de-laminations, I was down to no dependable work boots, and no dependable or trusted repair service. Ergo, a third pair of work boots were purchased, this time online at STP after a two year absence (the perps like to arrange absences from favorite sources for whatever reason). And they were extra heavy mountaineering boots as that was all that was available in stiff sided outdoor boots (not the sappy "running shoe" boots that are in vogue). The mountaineering boots were much the same color and from the same manufacturer as the hiking boots, so I could be assured that they would fit. (I have since come to enjoy the extra heft of these boots, and don't really notice the extra weight). And to add insult to injury, the Canadian-US dollar exchange rate had tanked since then ($1.35 at the time), and then as the boots were made in Romania and the Canada-EU free trade agreement won't become effective until 01-01-2016, I got screwed for another $80. Then add on the UPS border crossing ransom we Canadians pay, and the boots were at least $300. And did I mention the perps like to increase (or rarely decrease) the cost of items, and have extra charges added on, all to play whatever games they find it that? And too, screw their victims all the more out of their tentative cash reserves?

And as the perps have an unrelenting interest in my footwear, their color, composition, the shoelaces and fastening system, boot height and whatever else they find so fascinating, this ridiculous saga will no doubt play well into 2016. Come to think of it, all my regular footwear, save my gumboots and the delaminating work boots mentioned above, come from STP.

Financial Affairs 
Broke at the beginning of the year, as I wasn't working for two months. But that didn't stop them from running me into the hole as they hit me up with repairs to my portable drill as the ni-cad batteries "failed" once I got them back to my place. Then other expenses kept the well dry.

After six weeks of agitating I finally got my tax return papers I needed to submit, as "somehow" the wretched federal government lost my papers in their electronic system. I had to phone them, no mean feat, to re-supply the ID numbers of the forms I recieved, from a in-person transaction I made at their office. In parallel, somehow my daughter suffered the same fate of lost forms, but she was unlucky (har, har) in that she paid online and had no such physical forms and had to suffer many more months of delays.

I got a $5k tax rebate in 05-2015 finally, and spent some $2k digging myself out of the hole. Add on a "need" to get a few power tools and other expenses (e.g. vehicle maintenance) and I was down to no reserves by 09-2015. Believe me, I am not the spending kind and have always been conservative with my expenses especially when the income side has been mightily constrained. But "somehow", prudent financial practice escapes me since the perps first went berserk/overt in 04-2002, and this year was no exception.

Unexpectedly, my perp-abetting mother disbursed $15k in 11-2015 to each of three siblings, so I managed to stay in the black by year end Though this has been followed with some more reckless spending that I cannot seem to control, as the perps like me to have audiophile "habits", as they have been long grooming me on what equipment I "need" to get. Specifically, a new pair of speakers as the out-of-town brother seems to have stolen my pair in the crawl space here at the FFF house after being unperturbed for six years.

Following on from the expensive (for my income) speaker acquisition, there was an accelerated perp interest in having me purchase music online in the form of CD's and digital files and have me listen to them (different musicians/albums) on or around the same day, aka,"music and music format convergence". Now, once the amplifier gets fixed after unexpected problems, I get to do this all over again with speakers (new in 12-2015) instead of the headphones I have listening to. And too, they sabotaged my regular Grado headphones again in 2015, forcing me to send them off to Ontario, following the same stunt in 2012. Then Denon would not reply to my repeated inquiries as to getting a replacement headband for their headphones as it seems to have self destructed. For at least two months the perps in 2015 had me using the third rate headphones, though for the most part I didn't listen to any music then. Once the entire music listening, stereo, speaker configuration and likely re-location of my desk, PC, LCD display and furniture is accomplished, I get to listen to music through speakers for the first time since 2006. As to why this whole music component and music listening is so important to them, down to the source and type of my music files (CD case and where placed/kept, e.g. jewel case, box set or just-delivered in the mail, or a direct digital download, 16 bit or 24 bit or 96khz) I have no idea. One can imagine that this component of the non-consensual human experimentation fuckery that I experience all day, as do all TI's in differing aspects and intensities, has a few years to play out.

According to the local freebie newspaper with astrological predictions for the new year, it is only in 2018 that actions in 2016 will pay off for Cancerians. As in "pay off" for whom, and it what form. And as I have been in this intense abuse-a-thon for over 13.5 years, I maintain a day-at-a-time perspective. There are no Happy New Years on this gig and I had no part in choosing it.

Sunday, December 27, 2015

Merry Harassment

Ever the cynic about all things with respect to the First Feral Family quislings, and too, extensions of their actions and the whole harass-osphere, here are some observations in keeping with the season.

Will be at the First Feral Family house until Jan. 19, 2016 and I am already going squirell-y by way of my perp abetting mother's extra-hard of hearing. Act or not, everything needs to be repeated at volume. And the in-town, seemingly irresponsible brother doesn't seem too moved to act.

And she still has that unerring knack of getting in my way, before (usually), or else tailing me in the kitchen. Then plastering food remnants all over the place was another one, all the better (perp-wise) that it was yellow squash which she insists on cooking (unevenly) in the microwave, which then needs re-cooking once the cooked portions are removed, and of course, cause for plastering more of it on the fridge, counter, floor and microwave. That she cannot stand at the kitchen counter, but does the food prep sitting down in the dining area, means that an extra 12 running feet of house, mainly the floor and the table, get plastered too. I don't buy that doddering dip-shit act even if she is nearly 90 y.o.

The most memorable time did she go out of character, was in 2003 when the assholes finally allowed me out of incarceration to stay here at the First Feral Family house. (Which was protracted by three weeks as I just never find the right place to re-locate). And it was made verbally plain that I wasn't to stay here, even if there was plenty of room. At some point in this interim stay that I was in bed awakened about 0800h by someone stomping around in the attic over the adjacent bedroom. There is some 2' thick of glass fiber chips in the attic and so it is no mean feat to navigate one's feet on the rafters (2" high) as otherwise, standing between them would be too much weight on the topside of the plaster ceiling and one would put one's foot through. I was uncharacteristically early awake given the prior days' get-up times, and my mother from across the hall, through two closed doors, and seemingly sitting up, says "He is awake" in a tone of alarm, presumably to some unseen, but, audio-aware third party. Within some 5 seconds, the attic clumping/stomping stopped. All of which raises some significant questions; how did she know I was awake as I had made no sounds whatsoever and was getting out of bed to get closer to evaluate the attic sourced sounds. And too, she being a non-contiguous room away, across a hall, two closed doors and 25' away. Then, who was she talking to and how did she know they would hear, and how did she know the situation was getting dangerous (for them, as I was about to investigate)? And then, to dispel her non-stop dip-shit act, it meant she was totally on top of what was going on with respect to its ramifications that I was listening and then acting to investigate this overhead noise. And as the ceiling access to the attic was through a small space constrained needing a ladder in a closet in her bedroom, which was very unlikely to be arranged (at least in conventional physicality terms), how did this person get up there? And too, there was no subsequent noise of anyone coming down a ladder or otherwise coming down the attic access though the ill-fitting cover. It is one of the few times the perps seem to have blown their cover, but of course in this highly orchestrated unconventional existence, it might have served another purpose.

And what is it about this Merry Eruption of waving hands in front of one's face, that is, the Fuckwits shilling for the perps. That would be my perp-abetting mother, her visiting friend and then my in-town brother. This ridiculous sudden "habit" of saying something with excessive hand waving and making sure their hands are moving in front of their faces as they speak. Bizarre.

Then my mother's foot waving as she is sitting in the living room and artfully placing them in my L peripherial vision. So... I raise my L hand to side of my face while seated and block out this visual perturbation, one that also has the unerring knack of resuming should I drop my guard due to a perp invoked moment of inattention, usually due to shifting in my seat from a perp invoked discomfort moment.

The foot waving started at Kelowna airport, and that was before I got here. Three seemingly independent parties in each of the three possible directions I could look, each began the foot waving while seated. I can't think of anything more antithetical to the comfort of seating than that, and yet they kept this up for an hour. All aided by the fact that my usual sitting location with the wall at my back was disrupted as the wall had the seats removed and a bunch of other commercial kitch/services was placed there since last year when I was there.

The ex dropped by, and I got to meet her new boyfriend, and her only one since we split up in 2001. I assume her now-new boyfriend was perp arranged as the perps are constantly arranging me to pass between gangstalking couple members, and sometimes they deliberately split apart when they silently get the word even if their backs are turned to mine. In this case (my theory goes), when "coupled", each member will share some of the body energy of the other and I reckon their mutual visitation must of been some kind of test as presumably her and mine respective body exchanged energies are long dissipated and she now has exchanged body energies with him. And so it would seem that their visitation would be some kind of mutual energy interaction triangle test; ex to me, new boyfriend to me, between them and then add in my perp abetting mother being there too. More than enough to ponder for the perps, but all I want to be is left the fuck alone.

Enough of the FFF cast of culls and having me drop at least 20 IQ points and taken down to their standard this past week

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Pre-Christmas Wrap

I have been remiss in not keeping to my weekly schedule, but it seems events just "happened" that way. And I note that I am down 6 followers, the Blogspot kind, though I suspect that this is unrelated.. Or perhaps, the numbers are being rigged, as I don't really keep up on my regular readers. Or perhaps Google/Blogspot did some housekeeping. I don't see any comments castigating me for (...fill in the blank...). It is a common perp set-up for them to have a shill become overly offended and depart in a huff. (Aka, "the person doth protested too much").

Anyhow, I am now at the First Feral Family house here in Victoria, BC, the original Gangstalk Capital of Canada, though in fact, that term could apply to anywhere I live. (I now live in Penticton, BC, where I do viticulture laboring work, one step up from the farm labor the perps forced me into in 2008).

I was busy all last week with a vine pruning project, then one highly harassed day to get all my errands done, and then take my PC in the morning of my departure, getting a shuttle bus to Kelowna airport and then flying out non-stop to Victoria, BC, where a driving rainstorm was on for my arrival.

The next day there was driving duties for my perp-abetting mother, and of course, the loiter-around with the gangstalking assholes at LD, where she needed a new kettle. The present electric kettle had been leaking for over a year, and finally she had decided to do something about it. Naturally, the gangstalking force was out in droves, as they so do love to be there whenever a purchase decision (or any decision for that matter) is made, and of course, loiter all the more when a financial transaction is being made. In this case, she was doing the purchasing.

Though a few minutes before that it was my turn to purchase items at the nearby organics store; the various specialty foods and the supplements I "happened" to "forget" to bring with me. I had a stash of these specialty foods here at the First Feral Family house from last year, and they were all cleaned out. My perp-abetting mother swears she never touched them, so it was either the visiting brother or else it was the perps themselves.

On the latter account they seemed to have stolen more of my belongings stored in the crawl space; a box of kitchen items has gone missing as well as a backpack full of my forestry equipment. I cannot imagine that anyone would steal the latter for any purpose, as no one else in the FFF is trained in forestry, so just where did all this go?

An addition to the stolen items list was my tax returns of 1999 and 2000, as I needed to look them up to find out what my daughter's SSN was, as she is US born. For some reason both were missing from the file folders, though a single photocopy for 2000 was there. (The originals were in black folders, both missing). Missing tax forms isn't anything new, as the to-be-ex stole the aforementioned 1999 tax return sometime in 2001 when she and our daughter visited me in Seattle. (A pre-emptive divorce papers theft, or more like, directed by the perps before they outed themselves). It was only a month later when I found it missing and I got a replacement from the accountant, in a (another) black folder. So who in the fuck is still stealing my long-ago tax returns?

All this was preceded last year when I discovered my stereo speakers missing from the same set of boxes in the crawl space, only to see an identical pair at my out-of-town (this town) brother's place. At the time I mentioned that there were very similar to my pair that had gone missing but he and his wife assured me that they had the speakers for a number of years, which was patently false, because I had never seen them there before. But it seemed that they were ready for my questioning and had a pat answer. And besides, I was mind-fucked into not challenging them, and also "forgot" there was an identifying feature on one of the speakers behind the fascia covers.

I met up with my farm worker friend in Victoria three days ago, and had dinner out. On the prior day I asked if she wanted to see a jazz/pop singer who shall go by the initials HC, a favorite of mine. HC "happened" to be playing and if it weren't' for the write up in the newspaper I would not of known. But as there was some seats still available online, I purchased them the day before and got a pair of high up seats. It was a good show, and I was glad I went.

I was forced to take a pee before I could take my seat, and my farm worked friend stayed there and could of taken the seat next to the Fat Girl on the other side. But no, I was shoo-ed into sitting between them. My farm worker friend was dressed in a camel brown coat and kept it on the whole time there, and on my other side was the Fat Girl in a fuzzy red sweater and black pants. She was with at least one other Fat Girl dressed in green and a more slender one between them. For the first set HC was in a long red gown, not too surprising as she does go for the formal look, and too, the Victoria Symphony orchestra was playing as part of this Christmas show. But what was most curious that was when I shifted in my seat (by a forced perp discomfort sensation) the seat mates on either side moved within a second or two, one following the other, not together. This "happened" at least three times in the first set.

My farm worker friend also squirmed in her own seat a fair amount, and did the classic perp public bus pose of turning her back to me feigning that she was re-adjusting her posture to see when in fact there was no change in the view of the stage. The Fat Girl also made sure to lean forward at least a dozen times to suddenly arrive in my peripheral vision. I have plenty of antsy seat mates in the past, but these two took the cake. (Very often they clear the seats around me, and this time it was behind me). And also, someone was kicking the back of my seat to send vibrations through but there was no one there. Go figure.

For the second set HC was dressed in a long black gown, and when the Fat Girls returned to their seats, the slender one took an empty one behind which the red sweatered Fat Girl took one seat away, next to the other Fat Girl. Anyhow, having seating arrangements changed before, or at set break at concerts/shows is nothing new since all this infernal hell began in 04-2002. And lo, with the Fat Girl one seat away, she still did lean-forward games to get into my R peripheral vision, and my antsy/squirming farm worker friend kept up her fidgeting. It was a good show, and I was glad to have seen it. The perps seem to like me to catch a concert early in my return-to-Victoria visits, within three days of my flight, as this is a least the third time in four years.

And a heavy show of negroes all over me upon my trip/visit, starting with a negro male flight attendant doing the folksy intro and safety run down on the aircraft PA, as well as the passenger meet and greet. And too, with my annual dose of TV, it too is heavy on negro video. Not to mention that awful tragedy in Las Vegas with a negro woman mowing down pedestrians in her vehicle and her mug plastered on the news for three nights running.

Other Unfavoreds are also in predominance; skin-headed males, tight crimp hair and fat people. A TV special on Odelle brought on some very fat folks. And too, my perp-abetting mother just had to come back downstairs in the late evening and loiter there while I was watching a crime show. The perps seem to get no end of mileage out of having me watch crime on TV, or else read it in the newspapers. Other planted stories they like to get a rise from me are the multicultural inanity out of Europe, and the seeming social/law abiding decay that goes with it. I read the UK paper, the Daily Telegraph, that there were 168 laser strike incidents on aircraft at Heathrow airport in 2014, which suggests it is a problem far greater than the lone nutter, and just might be another of those multicultural problems related to those who seem to have a need to bring down commercial aircraft for whatever perverse and misguided reasons they have, wrapped up in a religious fervor. Ditto for the recent terrorist mayhem in Paris at the Bataclan Theatre. And as all too usual, Canadian media, and likely the US media too, don't report the utterly deranged lunacy of the perpetrators; as quoted in the Daily Telegraph, the stated reason was that the theater was selected was that it was a "den of prostitution and vice". It almost makes me want to hug Donald Trump, though it is the last thing I would ever conceive of, even in this mind-fuck hell I have been cast into for the past 13.5 years.

Then the obligatory street crush/gangstalking show with my perp-abetting mother as well; the Christmas shopping excuse of course, and doing driving for her as she doesn't like to get off her usual daytime beat. Which also brought on the male crush gangstalk games, two or three abreast coming straight at me, and the same routine,- all two or three together yet pretending that they are unassociated and each looking elsewhere as they do this and of course, absolutely no manners, aka "pardon me". So much for the Christmas spirit. The stores they wanted me to stalked in were the LD (kettle purchase above), the specialty organics store, the liquor store (the perps just love all that wine and glass for whatever reason, likely related that they have me work in viticulture now), two book stores downtown and the inevitable grocery store. In the latter case it was most unusual as there is always a major gangstalking crush, but for some reason they backed off and then slowly built it up while my perp-abetting mother put on the delaying ditz games.

Anyhow, enough to post for this week and last, and given my now assigned grim perspective of all harassment games, these trying time

Sunday, December 13, 2015

Potential Relief From One Imposed Condition

After ten weeks of this infernal urination urgency/voiding problem, very often timed to key perp moments like changing chairs, and latterly, arriving at the end of a vineyard row and to turn around and head in the opposite direction, the perps finally gave me relief. Perhaps it will be for a single day, or perhaps it will be permanent.

I had been taking mucuna pruriens, a dopamine supplement, for the last 10 days and was ready to give up on it yesterday (one of those "thoughts" planted on me at yoga yesterday), and was ready to dump it. But no, a curious co-morbid positive condition seemed to indicate it finally might be working, and so I took my normal supplement dose, along with all the other supplements I take. And lo, none of the incessant pissing "need" of the last week, all the more notable as I have been on vineyard pruning for bud collection. (We cut and take out adequate lengths of canes for shipment to a propagation outfit). As mentioned, the pissing urgency had an unerring knack of most often occurring at the end of a row or start of a new one.

I suppose it was also a big deal that I was wearing a red fabric enclosed ni-cad battery back all this while, running the electric pruners as I was.

Yoga,.. more red out around me, and all women in the class except for me. the owner was leading the class for the first time, and showing off her substantial muscles. I suppose when one is in the fitness business, it goes with the territory. The size of her butt was considerably larger than the regular instructor, who has a but larger than the darling pixie who departed in 08-2015. And what is it about butt sizes and shapes the perps need so desperately for me to see from all angles"

Another perp classic; spilled tea over the table, the mug somehow snagging the corner of the stove. Another screaming match at the assholes over that one.

More vineyard work, and moving from one site to another about mid day. This time I did not get screwed into "forgetting" my lunch at the first site like yesterday, and waiting an extra hour for someone to retrieve it.

As for the forced pissing problem, suddenly ameliorated yesterday, no such luck.  A mixed result, and no surprise for the amount of "yellow" testing they can pull off at any given moment.

A 35 min. one way commute this am with co-worker, and getting led by a red vehicle for most of the way in the dim hours at 0700h. he is a friendly fellow with plenty of gossip from the adjacent vineyard where I worked for three years, 2012 to 2014.

I was cutting vines with the electric pruners all day today; not too warm, and on-off rain all day. the perps like those boot warmers to be placed in my boots. after two years of sitting around and wondering why I was made to purchase them, they finally get used. It does seem to be the pattern that I use the electric pruners while everyone else uses hand pruners, like some kind of comparative stake-out of my energetic difference to those with hand tools doing the same activity in close proximity.

The pissing regimen is on moderate, no "recovery" like three days ago.

The perps lost one of my technical fabric gloves and the back up pair of similar material has gone missing despite my efforts to find the. It was the glove with the with the hole they dug in it. Said glove "developed" a hole over summer (when in storage) in 2013, and then they widened the hole again in 2014, again in the same circumstances. I only wear these for going outside and not for any manual labor work, and they are of synthetic fabric and the holes would not of been made by months in case you were wondering.

Another round of screaming at the assholes over my music playing. The CD player suddenly lapsed into "Netflix" mode without rhyme or reason and wouldn't play the CD again. The PC headphone jack is acting up and won't play. And the driver to play the PC resident files on the CD player (with DAC) is also on the fritz. Three ways to play audio and and ALL of them are now simultaneously sabotaged. That takes coordination IMHO.

They fucked me out of setting my alarm at 0500h again, but they did let me come to at 0600h an hour before my co-worker was to stop by to pick me up. Therefore, no shaving, a hurried breakfast, no tea made up for lunch, and of course, keeping the angst up to ensure that I would be able to compress 1.5 hours of activity into one hour. All part of the scheme it would seem, especially varying the body-energetic signature by not applying the shaving razor (plastic insert kind) with the teflon rub strip on it. They cannot get enough of the teflon rub strip it seems, and once, for the first time ever in 40 years of shaving they had the teflon rub strip drop off, and had me shave without it. Not that I noticed any difference. Exciting times in perpville when they expend so much effort over something that is so utterly trivial.

The imposed pissing regimen isn't much better, the above 12-08-2015 entry being an exceptional day in over two months of this wretched abuse theme.

The perps are jacking with my supplement intake again; a "forget" on B12 for three weeks, then today, "forgetting" the tyrosine and phenylalanine. More of the dopamine research agenda at work, and too, what particular package/bottle it came from and where it was purchased. On and and on, this endless psychopathic abuse as to combinations and permutations of provenance, form, substance, color of everything I wear, touch, see etc.

Vineyard pruning, with the E. Indians out for the first day, one bearded apparition in a yellow turban and if that wasn't freaky enough he puts on a red face scarf with pieces of fugly beard popping out. The moffo made sure to close in behind me at one point, somehow unheard, and just when I thought I had moved sufficiently far enough away, the mofo moved in close again, as before, right behind me. That takes coordination and orchestration IMHO. And have I not mentioned that I find head adornments particularly Unfavored, especially turbans? Hundreds of times I am sure. It always makes me wonder what the perps exposed me to in the recall deleted years, aged 2 to 5, and why they need to pursue me with this relentless freak show to elicit abreactions nearly 60 years later. The perps don't get it; they have fucked me enough and could do best by leaving me the fuck alone for all time.

A ditto day, though we did move to a new vineyard for three hours, and then to a third one for an hour. I got to lead the pack of personnel with map in hand. The perps haven't let me do decent map reading for at least five years, dithering me and all my former map reading skills. They were at least at a above average level having worked in forestry for 20 years. And today, with an annotated air photo in hand, why, they let me read it no problem with no recall and cogntive machinations.

Though a bit of added excitement this morning on the way to work, my co-worker driving. Some black ice sent the car into a unexpected spin after some swerving and we spun 180 degrees before we stopped. No other traffic and no collisions of any kind. Recall two weeks ago they pulled this stunt on me, though it was a 360 spin. Then the assholes forced me to take a piss a few minutes later. Sweet trick that.

Anyhow, a working Sunday today, and another two days before I am done this project that has gone for 11 days straight, so I best get this one posted.

Sunday, December 06, 2015

New Loudspeakers

After packing away my loudspeakers in 2004 for a move, and most curiously, never unpacking them since, I finally have a new pair that I get to listen to. Though, the original pair was put in my perp abetting mother's crawlspace packed in a box, and there they stayed until 2013 when they mysteriously disappeared. Only to re-appear at my brothers' place the next Christmas when we "happened" to be visiting. I could not say for 100% that they were mine, but it seems that a person with a history of pilfering stereo gear from our parent's place just might of decided to steal my stereo gear. (And that they were the same color, approximate size and make as my own). This was the year I was going to confront the perp-abetting brother with receipt in hand and reclaim them, unless he would tell me who told him to steal them after some 9 years in storage. But the family Christmas plans aren't going to take me there this year.

And so, with a hefty 65% discount on the loudspeakers that I have coveted for the past five years, I pulled the trigger and bought them online. They arrived today, and after an evening's putzing as to why the L channel was distorted, and checking each speaker, the amplifier, the source deck output and finally the power cord, why, the "problem" was found to the AC power strip. imagine that, changing the power outlet caused the L channel problem to fix itself. And of course the perps just love to have me swap hardware connections, for stereos, PC's and whatever else, so it was a mighty jerkaournd event for sure.

Never mind that I had to traipse all over town to find speaker wire, connections along with the rest of the shopping and errands I had to do.

In the process, I also got a haircut, and an extended edition version at that, as she did a re-cut, and then check, and onto another stereo store, and then across town again to find banana connectors. As it "happened", the perps clued me out and I could of used bare wire ends after all. And have I mentioned how the perps like to hound me after a haircut, all that steel scissor cut hair, both on the floor and on me, and they simply cannot get enough on how, where, and what tool I use for chopping, cutting etc., especially vegetable and meat.

A firetruck stunt when at N most part of my search for stereo connections. This was just post haircut, and after a few minutes the proprietor came back to tell me there were no banana plugs, and so he looked them up online at a mall shop. And lo, if the fire truck didn't arrive outside then, park transverse in the street to block all vehicular traffic and with lights and siren flashing they put on a good show  There were two fire truck exposures on my afternoon's errands, and at least two more separate siren events/

Anyhow, I start a bud collection job tomorrow, that is, cutting grape vines similar to pruning, but for bud propagation purposes. So I suppose my steel cut hair of today might be used for some kind of energetic comparative purposes to that of the cut vines tomorrow.

The most obvious post-hair cut event besides heavy gangstalking was in 2010-11 or so, when I walked the two blocks back afterward, and all the boulevard grass had been cut, with plenty of cuttings remaining on the sidewalks where I walked. (The grass had not been cut on my way there, so in that half hour interval while at the stylist, why, the city maintenance crew got very busy and cut the aforementioned boulevards).

Yoga two days ago; an extra skinheaded male was put into the class; normally they haven't added this extra Unfavored feature until now, some three years of yoga now, once a week. And the same double baggy shorts to the knees as the other one, still on heavy breathing duty.

Pruning on a new short term job, and lo, if a new weather system wasn't arranged. After two weeks of frozen ground and subzero temperatures, why, wind and rain. I was wearing a battery pack all day today, using the electric pruners, the ones I used earlier this year, and I was the one that sharpened all four blades.

The mind-fuck Pyschopaths kept me screwing up the pruning instructions, but of course the specs changed some and I was reminded at least 12x that I wasn't up to snuff. This one particular person has a nag role for me, and the perps put me into fuck up mode whenever I am reporting to him. Cute trick.

The low cloud dinginess was on all day, and do the perps ever like to mess me with low light levels. In the evening I "warmed up" with a visit to the tanning salon, having gotten screwed out a tan last week, and once out, why, the firetruck was out cruising around, no lights this time. As often before, the perps like to jerk me around when evening comes on, and one's vision switches from daylight retina cone cells to nighttime rod cells. Haven't we done this before? (And I recently learned that there is dopamine in one's retina cells).

And after three hours of messing with the stereo yesterday to get it functional without sound distortion, why, the assholes pull the same stunt again tonight. So, far, it seems it is not the new speakers, but one never knows what it could be next.  I cannot recall how many times I have set up my stereo gear at different places, say 50+, and I never had any problem at any time until yesterday and today.

The assholes have been ragging and enraging me all day today, and of course, all the more when at home and by myself. Forced dropping, forced fumnbling and on and on it goes. The stereo fuckouver follies continue; the device cannot be found (again), the device driver won't load properly, etc. Like WTF; all I ever wanted is one single device to send my files to and is that too much to ask? Another computer device, the NAS isn't working either and the last update blew up. One cannot win for losing in this insane abuse-athon driven by senseless imbiciles who haven't the gumption to declare their human nonconsensual research agenda; to me or any other TI's. Absurd as it is deranged.

Sunday, and one of work in the vineyard doing propagation pruning; cutting and removing canes for propagating shoot stock for next year. All from known sources, virus free etc.

 A blustery and dingy overcast day, but thankfully not as cold as the last three days of work. Now five weeks since the return to Standard Time, and nearly all of it overcast. It plain creeps me out this dingy weather.

I was finally allowed to figure out what the problem with the stereo was after two evening's of diagnostic games and getting new speaker wire. It turns out the "need" for banana plugs was a total ruse as the amplifier and speakers both take bare wire. It is the amplifier that is buggered; a 20 y,o. solid state premium amplifier just plain degraded, all by itself seemingly. (Looks perfectly fine when I remove the case and look inside). On with the electronic equipment sabotage. And of course begetting the quandary or do I get it fixed (sending it away somewhere) or get a new one. The perps love to set up these scenarios as to whether I chuck my personal possessions or otherwise contemplate owning them. The concept of ownership is also a big research theme for the perps. At the risk of conflation, a shrink term, one wonders if the brutal collectivization of the Soviet Union (pre-1989) wasn't an exercise for the perps to research this particular topic in all its neural energetic signatures.

Anyhow, enough techno-talk and to post this for the week just past.

Monday, November 30, 2015

Interupting the Music Player

And what is the latest gimmick all about; stopping the music player in mid song? The formerly reliable J River Media Center now just stops in mid song, and won't resume unless stopped and played anew from the beginning. The assholes have been pulling this now and again for years, but 3x in an hour is an escalation. [Two hours later; my PC music player was stopped in mid-play over 10x, then I turned it off in total outrage that I cannot be allowed to play and listen to what I want and when I want. Though if you follow this blog any, nothing new there].

And I suppose it fits the latest planted infatuation; a sudden need to listen to Patsy Cline (no complaint there), and then  "finding" a Patsy Cline biography at the bookstore two days ago, (now read).

More "biddy stalk", this time at yoga, one each side. One even called me "young man" while setting her mat up immediately in front of my view of the instructor for crissakes. Ridiculous; I am 61, and look 35 (age regressed),  and I might well of been older than her tubby self. I didn't take the bait, but mentioned something else relevant and didn't get a reply, the typical "conversation baiting" games when everyone goes blank to ensure the pre-selected topic gets no further discussion. This bullshit has been going on since the get-go of the berserk/overt events of 04-2002 and a few times earlier to present edification.

An inch of snow, icy roads, and keeping the victim clueless, all to give me a 360 spin on Naramata road at 60km. I ended up nudged up against a bank, no ditch, and no oncoming traffic. No dents even. No luck involved of course, all pre-determined. And why in the fuck did they not have me lift my foot off the accelerator for crissakes? Basic driving instinct is now remotely governable by the Psychopathic Authority. Nothing new there. Back in early 2007 they almost had me cross the road as a pedestrian when there was an oncoming car. That is no fluke, especially when I have been in constant threat assessment mode since they first went berserk/overt in 04-2002.

Many planted notions of a certain female TI coming to visit of late. Give me a break, and it is not personal; I had a (now ex) wife of 20 years who could fuck anything up, never mind jerking me around many times. Why would I trust anybody, and all the more in this overt abuse/harassment situation? Add on the fact that anyone can be remotely mind controlled, and TI's are at the front line of this scourge. Though in fact, perhaps most everyone is remotely mind controlled to some extent. It boggles the mind as to how this can be accomplished, but how about all those cell phone towers that keep going up?

So far, above mentioned music player is working fine; no apparent upgrades from the software vendor. Funny how that "happens"; spontaneous problems followed by spontaneous fixes. To the perps; how about leaving the thing alone in the first place? But as music seems to facilitate deeper mind mapping, music playback (from whatever original source). is of intense interest to them. Never mind the album cover color, album contents or lack thereof in the case of digital files.

Phone disruption/obstruction games again. I have been waiting on a call for a few days for ice wine picking, as it is a temperature dependent event. And, I make sure my contacts list is together so if I miss a call, it is identifiable in the log. And lo, when I look in my phone log this morning, I see that I missed a call yesterday when I was out of cell range at the vineyard job, and of course, no message. Ditto today, the assholes timed a call so when I was in the shower, again, no message, from a different caller but from the region I was expecting. I call back, and lo, the phone is busy.

I get a call from the doctor's clinic that actually came through, and most curiously, the office wasn't identified on the screen. Like WTF; why am I getting this repeated obstruction as to the source of my calls and also preventing me from getting back to whoever called? In the latter case, all to screw me out of a $120 worth of picking pay presumably, and no less, adroitly timed during my two week wait for unemployment benefits. From the "thankless gang" to yours truly. Which will never be forgotten if I have anything to do with my recall.

A need came on to get my chest hair waxed, so those that I miss plucking can get pulled too. One attendant each side, and the instructor at the spa school, chatted to me the whole while. She of substantial size, at least 220lb, and I was lying down and she was standing nearby, so I was looking at her from below. Her face seemed a little slimmer, and unusually, her hair was in bangs over her forehead. Wearing eyeliner, her eyes from my perspective were decidedly looking doe-like, and attractive as far as I am concerned. I hadn't seen her is this configuration before, but I suppose it was the perps way of "dressing her up" to look way more attractive it would seem. The wax job was all over in a remarkable 15 minutes, and so I was done the first waxing in three months or so.

Two of three full grocery bags split when retrieving them from the vehicle, and lo, if the maple syrup bottle didn't fall to the asphalt and break. (I rarely buy it, but somehow got keyed up with a recipe to make candied pecans). I haven't had such an obvious grocery dumping and breakage stunt since 2004 when they pulled a bag out of my hands, again after exiting my vehicle, and sent it to the ground (asphalt) and broke the olive oil bottle inside of it. It was the only item in the bag as it so "happened" so I carried the dripping remains to the nearby bushes and left it there. But as the perps are consumed with trees and tree sap, I should not be too surprised, though of course being so memory governed now, "surprise" is governed too.

The assholes kept me up awake in bed for three hours, having got to bed on time at 2230h so I could sensibly awaken at 0600h in preparation for my drive and doctor's visit in Kelowna. No 360 degree spin outs thankfully, and the road was mostly bare, even if in subzero (C) temperatures. I had my vehicular cluster/posse around me at times, or else blocking both lanes to stop me from passing. At least they didn't slow it down too much, though they do like to swap certain colors in and out. A tractor trailer transporting propane seemed to be the largest vehicle to tail me from Kelowna to Penticton this afternoon.

How I spend my time; someone shut down the headphone device in the Control Panel, and that took 40 minutes to figure out via J River, which had been behaving itself for the last day.

A visit to the attractive blonde doctor in Kelowna today. My iron isn't getting absorbed, and some other test results are looking too low or high. More supplements. And nothing she could do on the urination urgency front. I did my bit to tell her that non-dyskinesia Parkinson's symptoms (low dopamine) have a very high alignment with my lifelong symptoms, but she said there was nothing she could do for me. And no one else either it would seem. Onto Popeyes to get mucuna pruriens where the weight lifter boys gave me the particulars. I swear the perps were shutting down this particular supplement in Canada, but it seems they have allowed me to purchase some for now (in person at least).

Apparently my testosterone isn't getting into me via dermal rub in, so now I must stick myself with a needle; just what the perps ordered to ensure there are abreactions for them to discover/monitor. As it would seem from "Thanks for the Memories" by Brice Taylor, a mind control slave to the high and mighty (multiple US presidents), her keepers would stick hypodermic needles in her frequently. I would imagine they might of done the same to fellow child charges, especially if they deleted their recall for three years as they seemed to have done, when I was aged 2 to 5.

Another clinical aberration is that I am not absorbing iron, it is going through me for some reason. As the perps love jacking with my iron and all its magnetic portents and properties, it would be another non-surprise.

Another  "CD file convergence" event. I bought eight albums off the web and have just started to listen to them, after the aforementioned "problem" with getting the player to function (it was fine yesterday). I bought six used CD's in Kelowna at one particular book store I frequent. The "droogie dudes" were there in their usual mumble tones to each other. As part of the deal they have me play the discs via the player first, then rip them, and then listen to them as digital files off this here PC. More perp excitement it would seem. It never fucking ends.

And a whole lot more "aerials" en-route as best as I could make out. These being a peculiar white 12" square flat panel, usually arranged on the bias (single corners at top/bottom in a diamond configuration) and often on top of overhead lane standards, and sometimes two together, pointing 90 degrees offset. Since it was my first trip that way since early 09-2015, I would imagine they might have spent the time getting "ready" for me in every technical sense.

One thing the perps seem to find fascinating is file renaming, these being music files. All the more if it is a eponymous named album (same as the artist) and then the "album artist" gets the same name too (filled in by me), and so we have three meta-data fields (aka tags- a ridiculous term), all identical. Exciting times in perp-land indeed, and here we are at 13.5 years of this insane shit.

And what it this new perp stunt of draping themselves, or otherwise physically encroaching into my personal space when making a financial transaction? Yesterday some bearded rude-ass just had to put his arm across the counter in front of me to grab a pen when I was purchasing ethyl alcohol to deal this this infernal (and so far, intractable) mold problem in my brief case the assholes created last year. Of course no "excuse me" as they don't seem to know this politeness in this town (Penticton), or is it valley (Okanagan)? And today, while at the shoemaker in Kelowna, (avoiding the local flake/poseur/saboteur), some woman in a brown coat arrives beside me and delivers red boots in a plastic bag and in the process, drapes herself over one of my two boots on the counter. Another personal space encroachment "sans manners", just before a financial transaction. To the perps; go fuck yourselves; no more personal space encroachments.

Yesterday at the supermarket it was similar; my tracking/stalking dudes were all over me, and one arrives after me at the next checkout. He finishes up, and when I am just about to depart after dealing with this vexacious situation, why a staff dude "needs" to head to the self-checkout ahead of me, and a staff girl senselessly "needs" to block the remaining egress her fellow staff "partner" couldn't cover. I turn to go, and do my (now) usual wait for egress to open up, and she scoots back to her station. Like WTF; a totally senseless "need" to get in my way just before departing the self checkout by two coordinated staff members (or at least, were dressed like them, in black with green trim). And do I ever loathe those stupid hats they wear at SOF.

Eve of Canadian football madness, the Grey Cup, due to start within the hour, and they obstructed the checkout at Marks at about 1500h. Like WTF; all I wanted to buy was two pairs of black socks to replace the two that sprang holes, and its Sunday, and yet they backed up the tills with some 8 customers. Screw that.

Off to LD, and it was almost as bad. I had two things to get, and lo, at the checkout, there was two ahead of me. Except that the paying customer's gift card wouldn't work, so she had to go elsewhere to get another and come back. Then a wandering customer, returns to the checkout just after her, now three customers ahead of me. Thanks. Then the woman behind me is getting too close, like 12", so I move some 6" ahead, and next time I look, why, she moved in close again. A dude with his young boy, eminently capabble of walking, but carried, needs to parade around, not only in the aisle when I was there (3x), he is now parading in the exit where the checkout line ends. He departs with his wife, as it turns out, the customer with the bum gift card, and lo, some bearded and ball capped freak replaces him as the loitering male, to be kept in view while I was still captive in the checkout line. Finally, I get to the checkout, and pay cash (I rarely do anywhere, debit card), and when finishing up, why, the Fat Girl cashier gives me this extended stare as she leans in to give me my receipt (no plastic shopping bags needed). Like WTF; the other Fat Girl cashier did the same thing about two months ago. All that excitement over two visits after keeping me inside until the afternoon, one being a "skunked" visitation (attempted, but aborted shopping visistaton). Like why cannot I be left alone to get what I want, when I want without this insane freak gangstalk show, augmented by obstructing checkout progress? And how many times havve I complained about this one? At least 1x/month in print.

Onto yoga and the clusterfuck games in having the other yogis now gather around me when removing/replacing shoes and my coat. And too, the instructor does it too for whatever reason.

Sunday, November 22, 2015

House Bound

Mostly house bound due to sustained inclement weather these last two days, and true to form, when I go out, it is a major gangstalking tour-de-force. I got out to yoga yesterday, then the bank today, both prime gangstalking events. Then onto the gym for the first time in 6 months following banking (always of intense perp interest),

The visit to the gym was a gangstalking special; a class of retards was finishing up and began to converge on me to get their coats just as I was at the tight coat locker area. Good one that, and I have I not mentioned the escalated frequency of retards on the gangstalk scene? Many times. And how is it arranged, as this crowd would not have a clue what the perps are up to, let alone the rationale, so are they controlled then?

And have I not complained about converging hordes on me at various venues and situations in this here blog, perhaps some some 9 years worth? And what is it that guides the perps to repeatedly set up this gangstalk stunt? If I cannot stand multiple persons converging on me, then why or why do they continue to set up this insane vignette? As always, it might relate to scenes witnessed, if not imposed upon, during the memory deleted years, 1956 to 1960, when child abuse has been documented in clinical (Dr. Ewen Cameron, Montreal), military (Indian Lake Project, NY) and clerical (Duplessis Orphans, PQ, incl. Montreal) situations. Note that I lived in Montreal for two of those four years, hardly a coincidence IMHO. And then of course, the epic work, "Thanks For the Memories" by Brice Taylor reveals concerted and frequent use of children in abuse situations, she being 4 years older than me.

Four CDs arrived in the mail all at once yesterday. Another instance of convergence of audio music, plus one that I ordered online the day before. It isn't the first time these "audio convergences" have erupted, though I am at a loss to explain why they do this. Some were used discs, some were new, some from overseas, and some from North America. Add in a few "coincident" online digital file purchases. Go figure.

Yoga was all female, except for me, some 15 or so yogis in all. The once-friendly (just "hello" level) slender married babe, a one time instructor, was placed behind me (S of me), though of late she has been stationed across the room to the W with about five intervening yogis. Per usual (now), she hangs near me and looks the other way, especially notable after class. And to be clear, no romantic interest on my part; I don't believe in it, and in these circumstances who would I get besides a perp saboteur? Of note, the instructor and the one-time slender instructor had a little confab about their December plans for me to overhear for whatever reason. Perhaps it is a variant of the Favored/Unfavored pairings the perps so like to arrange, though as far as I can tell, the instructor never bothered me any, even if twice the weight of the former darling pixie instructor.

The "baggy ass" brigade (of two) was there at yoga again, one of them stationed in my usual location. Both on the W side of me. Recall, last week I was between them. Another go figure.

And another feature at yoga is that there are more arranged "crowdings" around me after class, all at the one sofa where I sit to put on my boots. This time extra crowding was augmented by a woman putzing with her iPhone and not seeming to be needing to get to the class that was about to start. Then someone else comes in, and I "decide" it is getting too cramped/claustrophobic and I bail out of there, assuming my footwear is on, to put on my jacket elsewhere. They used to leave me alone on the sofa and for some reason everyone else would put on their coats and shoes 20' away on the other side of the entry doors. Now, a "convergence" situation has been incremented for whatever abreactions (psychic traumatizations that don't consciously register) the perps wish to elicit. Did I mention they seem to have real time reading on what I think, react to at levels that I am unaware? Many times I am sure.

A drive to Naramata to pick up a wholesale food seller who inexplicably didn't inform me that it was ready. A five day wait when there is rarely more than one. At least the person apologized and offered an explanation, weak as it was. He being the one who changed his name on me, though I see that his initials were close to the first name he gave me when I first met this cat in 2013 or so.

In explaining why I didn't get the full message to pick up the order, they kept the babe helper in view some 6' behind as he gave me the brown cardboard box with my order inside, he being red-faced, evasive and seemingly embarrassed. No need for that; I have seen all kinds of lies, feints and duplicity, starting with my own (First Feral) family, all of which reached another order of magnitude when the perps went berserk/overt in 04-2002. And too, having a "background babe" is SOP for this abuse-athon.

Then back in relative driving quiet; some vehicle trains, and the inevitable garbage trucks on the stalking trail. And what is with the helicopters today, even erupting before I got out of bed at 0800h? Yes, the Penticton Airport flight path is overhead, but still, so many "introduced" helicopters. That is, the local helicopter flying school uses the EC-135 models with the tail in the rotor, and there haven't been many of those flying today. I reckon they are into at least 40 overflights so far today, now 1600h as I write this.

I worked some: a nice sunny day when I expected cold from the forecast. Such a relief to have a warm(-ish) and sunny day at this time of year.

Worked some at the vineyard/winery... taking measurements on wine. Do the perps ever like me to me sampling and measuring.

Been reading JFK; the CIA, Vietnam and the Plot to Assassinate John F. Kennedy by L. Fletcher Prouty, which makes it absolutely preposterous that a single assassin took out JFK 52 years ago today. Not when there has been such a barrage of disinformation since, (.e.g Warren Commision) and continuing to this day. And biographical information on the designated "patsy", LHO, was transmitted within an hour of his apprehension to newspapers worldwide. He was a 24 year old nobody, and somehow all this was known within the hour. The most ironic part was that he was apprehended in a movie theater watching "War is Hell". Little did we know how ironic that later was as LBJ and his cabinet overturned JFK's NSAM 263, and escalated the Vietnam War to the $550 billion boondoggle it became.

Even the (apparently) covertly released Pentagon Papers, a Vietnam War history to 1969, (relaeased to the public in 1971), was a disingenuous fabrication in part, as the NSAM 263 document was chopped into non-contextual pieces and not shown in its entirety. Released in full in 1991 (?) NSAM 263 clearly states the US will be out of Vietnam by 1995. And it is abundantly clear that Fletcher Prouty's work identifies the hand of a conspiratorial High Cabal, who had the Korean and Vietnam wars planned as early as 1945, and didn't want a war-adverse President to get in the way. After JFK got stung by the CIA sponsored clown show known as the Bay of Pigs, why wouldn't he be adverse to whatever else the CIA was cooking? And they were doing the "cooking"; that is, fomenting and encouraging and supporting of military action in Vietnam. Not to mention de-stabilizing the agrarian country by having the US Navy and Air Force relocate 1.1 million Vietnamese from the North to the South and essentially dump them there in the mid-1950's. JFK never had chance in retrospect. And so the human meat show continues, now with Mid-east nutters setting off bombs in Paris, and the rest of the world strife that makes the news.

And why is it that human suffering and death is so important to the perps? Never mind the energetics of humans they like to study and how dismemberment and blood-letting serves their momentary purposes.

Anyhow, not much to report today; a shut-in day made all the more doable by the perps as they nailed me for a three hour nap attack in the afternoon, taking me from 1315 to 1615h. They do like to have me sleep through major daytime light transitions, from sunny (outside) when I was forced to lie down, to a dingy half light when I was finally allowed to waken. And too, the three weeks since Standard Time was brought back were constantly dingy and overcast. No doubt that serves the melatonin-dopamine interaction research they so like to pursue. As nearly always, I was NOT running a sleep deficit and in no way needed three hours of napping. I had a 8 hour sleep last night. Who knows what the sleep disruption will bring tonight.

Onto posting this, such as the week it was.

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Biddy Stalk for the Blood Draw

As mentioned in the previous post, they wouldn't let me sleep and so got me up at 0200h to putz around online for the first time in the prior day. Also, ripping a two CD set seemed to be a big deal for the perps while my online search activities took place. There is something they like about having a spinning disc near me, vehicle included.

I had to get my blood draw by 1000h, and lo, if they didn't force me for an extra hour's sleep to force a "just made it in time" situation at the lab.

And what was with the biddy (geriatric females) stalk while there: one had to get behind me, crossing from my L side at the next wicket to my R side to get the key for the washroom, and then depart. And when she returned, the "need" to have her bllod draw had somehow dissipated. She of the mid blue gortex anorak. And within a minute of the key being returned, why, an fuschia pink anorak wearing biddy came in to obtain said key, on a large fob of identical color to her gaudy jacket. Again, no apparent "need" for a blood draw while I was there.

Then while waiting in the waiting area, two more biddies arrive in sequence with their walkers and both stop immediately in front of me when they normally would of progressed another 7' to the wicket. Another non-biddy woman with a loud mouth joined the fray, and for a few minutes, I have three arranged around me for some curious reason, on the verbal yak-attack. I think that was the biddy count for this blood draw event, always a big deal for the perps it seems. That I wore my new fleece tights for the first time after getting them altered last week was unlikely to be a coincidence.

Yoga this evening, and they kept up the biddy-stalk by putting one in the class. Another hopeless yogi it seemed, doing the victim theme stalk, for whatever the reason. One other semi-regular dude, he on wheezy breathing haflway across the room. The "bob' acts (male hair bobs) were conspicuous by their absence, and thank goodness for that. Some of the regular females are so hopeless at yoga, and have never got better, it makes me wonder why on earth they persist in this more advance class. And if normality were the case, the odd time I go to a Wednesday or Friday class, they are there too. So to extrapolate in the normal world, it would seem they are going 2x or 3x per week while I go 1x per week and I "happen" to meet up with them on these two latter days. Which should mean they are a getting much more practice in and should be well advanced by now, some three years into yoga at this location. But no, they aren't that advanced, which makes we wonder if this whole yoga show isn't a total contrivance each and every time I go.

And one of the regulars is this woman with a baggy ass. And lo, if they didn't put a blonde woman on my R side with a baggy ass too. On my immediate L, a younger blonde woman and one mat past her, the regular woman with the baggy ass. I have no idea as to why the perps are so preoccupied with this particular type of derriere, but they sure like me to see it at yoga, where it can be readily identified. And what might be the recruiting call for the perps when they solicit this body feature from the populace? Say, "we need someone with a baggy ass like yours, as the victim doesn't care to view such Unfavored body features, which are best displayed in yoga class. So will you come to stalk him at yoga for us and when we are done, we will tension up your butt so there will be no bagging". Something like that I suppose.

And for some curious reason, the perps injected me with a blah feeling after yoga, which has never been the case until now. And I wonder what they are up to; a once only event or are they starting to move me out of there for reasons known only to themselves? Or is this yet another selective dopamine shutdown? Time will tell.

Remembrance Day here, a national holiday to remember those who perished in war. A work day though, as I was on this construction job at the vineyard I have worked in the past, as they needed an extra body to clean up water and gravel  in this pool structure. As it was walled off, I had to enter via these formed stairs and use shovels, a vacuum cleaner and buckets to remove this brown muddy water and dump it 4' outside of the wall. I suppose there was an element of victim touring in this, as a few parties came out to visit the construction. And too, a female construction worker who I find especially attractive and she was even smiling and spoke to me a few times, different than her past head down avoidant behavior. I suppose she is on the slow-intro path, different than other attractive women who have been injected into my work site this past year, who have been friendly at first and then turn it down, as in avoidant and chilly for no seeming reason the next time I encounter them. What the perps get from running the friendly-then-not-so-friendly angle versus the not-so-friendly-then-friendly angle I have no idea, but it has been so consistent that it simply becomes part of the ongoing strangeness-sphere.

Said attractive construction worker was in tight denim pants and a large comfy work jacket for much of the day, though it did get warm at times and she was in a T-shirt with partial see-through fabric. And at other times (twice at least), when at "odd" moments I looked up, there she was standing 15' away looking to the horizon for some curious reason. I call this "posing', these strange departures from expectable habit in the context, where someone does the "just stand there" act with a vague ruse of something interesting in the distance. I have long given up in following their "interest",

An ersatz Remembrance Day ceremony at the construction site too; I was vacuuming water below this form work and rebar of a stair way, yet to be poured. One of the guys comes over to tell me that he is shutting down the vacuum cleaner  as it is 11 o'clock. Like WTF "thinks" me, it isn't lunch time. But the perp assholes let me catch up within a few seconds and I climb out of this hole to find the rest of the five crew gathered around the job site radio about to listen to a Remembrance Day ceremony. So yours truly joined this loose assemblage and stood there for the event, while at least two of them were leaning on the concrete walls, also partaking in listening to the ceremony broadcast. Nothing like advance notice, but this too is a much perp managed event.

Anyhow, it was back to standing in 1" of water and gravel and getting the latter out especially, and then later chasing the brown muddy water. And why on earth the perps had me "forget" to wear my gumboots when I knew this was a wet job in advance, with at least three "reminders" to ready my gumboots the evening before.

A day off, Friday, and not without some perp instigated and needless excitement, all over a oil change for crissakes. My appointment diary had a 1515h appointment for today at the Toyota dealership, but I got a phone message during a nap attack yesterday afternoon, indicating that it was a 1615h appointment, and could I come in earlier, say 1600h. So I assumed I somehow got the time in my diary wrong, though I didn't think so.

I get to the Toyota dealership at 1600h and the desk guy, big gut and bald (three Unfavoreds), tells me it was 1515h. I told him I got a call yesterday which said it was 1600h, and he says he will look into accommodating me. He didn't seem to motivated, even after I pointedly asked, as to who and how I got misled into getting the appointment time wrong. Not did he offer an apology. Anyhow, the deal was still on, and I got my oil changed. Once I got back from my twice skunked shopping in the interim, they put on the cute and gushy counter girl and during the transaction, the aforementioned big-gutted and bald male service person lurked some 7' away. Bring on the cute babe, and have the Unfavored male (usually) loiter nearby. How many times have we done that in this here blog? Said babe had some blue streaks in her hair, none of which I could get a focus on that were at the back of her head.

While I was getting my vehicle serviced, I had two local stores to visit on foot. A specialty grocer was to be where I replenished my zinc supplement that ran out two days ago. And lo, if there wasn't a 20% off sale and the "customers' weren't 10 deep at the two checkouts. Screw that, I have done the checkout obstruction jerk arounds some hundreds of times on this non-stop abuse-athon.

Then up the road to get to a place that had model paints, as I wanted some clear coat to cover the identifying annotation I put on my diamond whetstones (particle micron size, roughness). I attempted to do this with the last set but the nail acrylic wore off in short order, and I was reduced to re-writing the annotation with a sharpie. This simple act of keeping my two whetstones readily identifiable is yet another ongoing pissing match with the perps for at least two years running. All abetted by the manufacturer's seeming inability to do this at the factory. Yet again, a totally trivial event/task becomes a long running game of asinine and pointless fuckery. And lo, it seems the model paint and detailing business hadn't been taken over by another, and no remnant of it whatsoever.

Another pissing match today was that the perps screwed me out of taking my bed-sheets with the rest of my laundry to the laundromat this morning. It is totally standard that I take my bed-sheets to the laundry each week, and yet the perps have pulled at least 8 "forgets" on this account in the last six months. And what is the fucking deal over that? But as they the perps have been totally obsessed over my laundry, my detergents, the color and type of washing machine and the rest of the limitless physical and chemical parameters they seem to know and study., screwing me over my laundry contents is nothing new. Long past laundry games since 04-2002 have included theft, (and once even, the thief wearing my shirt), stalled washing loads, garment sabotage, no water supply to the washing machine and likely a few others that I cannot recall. Never mind the extra gangstalking too.

And somehow the still wet items that had to be re-laundered with different detergent because of a lint attack were in my vehicle when the oil got changed. And out of the deal, my black fleece work scarf got "lost". And the black toque I always wear with it somehow didn't get laundered as I found it on the floor when I returned to unload the washing machines. Like WTF; in the leas I should of stepped on it, never mind noticing it, and somehow it escaped this oversight. Needless to say, I am normally on high alert for dropped things at laundromats as it "happens" all too often while there.

Attending to wine-making; the perps DO love me when taking measurements (volume of wine additive), and one of the owners was downstairs for the day doing paper work and watching hokey movies as well. Lots of rain today, but little wind, and this must be at least two weeks of dingy cloudy overcast weather, which gets on my nerves and especially so when the dinged-hour sets in about 1600h these days. Still five weeks until the winter solstice, and it would seem the perps want to increase the seasonal dinginess this year. I suspect there is a melatonin-dopamine interaction they are looking to remotely detect. Though light conditions and sources of are of intense interest to them, especially given the propensity of light bulbs to go.

Sunday, and nothing on tap; I was going to work out at the recreational center but that turned to naught as I suddenly became demotivated later. I haven't worked out in six months or so, and I have the time to do it, and it doesn't "happen". Another one of those managed states/events it would seem. A shut-in day as it turns out.

More dingy weather, and the perps sacked me for a two hour nap attack this afternoon while reading and interesting ADD blog site, one that I later returned to this evening. It has to be the third time this week they sprung a mid-afternoon nap to have me awaken in much dingier ambient light conditions. And for the record, and especially today, I have no intrinsic need for these extended sleeps and don't run a sleep deficit.

More interesting reading of JFK; the CIA, Vietnam and the Plot to Assassinate John F Kennedy by Fletcher Prouty and the lead up to the Vietnam War, and how President Johnson essentially reversed Kennedy's intent to have US troops fully depart by 1995. And how was it that the Secret Service in Dallas was so remiss in attending their normal protocols of providing security Nov. 22, 1963? And the entire JFK cabinet was in in enroute to Tokyo when they heard the assassination news, and returned to Honolulu thereafter. And even the author, was in New Zealand at the time, far removed from his usual duties, and when he put the time change and the news release there in context, the newspapers had LHO's biographical details and listed him as the assassin before any news release anywhere. And too, the elaborate and continuing deception and cover up games that go on to this day; who has the capacity to do all of this, never mind the Warren Commission made to be an abject exercise in prescribed futility. Talk about a major history revision. I have long come to the conclusion that war is yet another element of the perps' imperative of studying the human race and whatever quantum cosmological constants they are looking for.

Anyhow, I should get this posted lest this lapse another week as the demotivation impositions seem to be coming more prevalent of late.

Monday, November 09, 2015

Bob-Job Closes In

The much loathed male hair-do coming into vogue of late, the "bob-job", was placed into greater prominence at yoga tonight.

The grey hair-long haired dude, (there is three Unfavorables there) took it upon himself to plant himself in my usual E side spot, he coming over from the W side where he has always been, for at least 5 months or so (1x/week). I placed myself against the E wall, getting more distance to avoid the sight of him, as he had three more Unfavored features; the baggy shorts, the fugly hairy legs, and the most ridiculous of all, his hair tied up in a bob. Anyhow, it would be another case of victim touring again, as there seems to be a lot of rotation of the freaks and others into my usual spot I have been frequenting these past three years of yoga at this one practice.

I didn't think he was a heavy breather, but as it "happens" he started up that bullshit about halfway through. Add in some woman doing soft moans, and it was last week all over again. Except the perps didn't sweat me as bad for whatever reason, or perhaps they are letting me gain some strength without the sweat. One cannot rely of one's prior personal experience for very long in this TI World, as the perps like to manipulate all factual determinations, even if they are not expressed to anyone.

A reflection on the past four days of a laboring job I had, a demolition job at a Mc Do's in a southern town. It was the inside eating area and the washrooms that were demolished in part by yours truly. But talk about a trades dude stalk fest; plumbers, electricians and a few others of unknown trade, plus others associated with the pop machine installation, and perhaps the inspectors and maybe even the owner popped in. All that waving and pointing and looking at the plans suggested they weren't laborers. And too, moving step ladders around me with such rapidity, and too, the trades dudes couldn't get on top of where I was working/standing fast enough.

And plenty of noise assault too; jack-hammering a 4'x4' patch in the floor, and another trench some 10'x 6" wide. The perps like ceramic tile being chipped, and there was at least a day of that, as the washroom walls were half tiled and it all had to come down. All of which had to be lugged to the dumpster, some 40' away outside. All these interiors now exposed to outside light for the first time, exciting moments in perp research.

And there was plenty drywall dust in the air too; the perps like to mess me with inhaled dust, and all the better to inundate my eyeglasses with.

And what was with the staff, still running the drive through, coming by to stand around for no apparent reason, making out they were watching demolition progress? First they had a job to do in the kitchen, second, it wasn't an idle stroll to come visit/stalk this laborer as they had to find their way around the poly barrier to stop dust going into the kitchen. Of particular stalking note was this gormless grinning E Indian, who barely spoke English, he of 20 y.o. for crissakes. I call it "victim touring", but he wasn't the only one. The manager woman, some 30 y.o. and a tad attractive had at least 20 different "pass bys", and other events to feature herself in a single day. Other days she wasn't quite as predominant, but so what, she just wasn't that interesting, especially dressed in brown for crissakes.

Then a seeming customer came by 6x the first day, making out that he was scavenging for the seats and tables we took outside, and were available for the taking. He later came to talk to the other laborer, a local. Said faux scavenger in his orange fleece vest came back two days later for another two visits.

I haven't been in a McDo's in 15 years or so, since my daughter was 10 y.o. She was somehow inculcated with needing to go there, and I didn't eat the food as I didn't like it one bit. Sure, I picked the odd fry off her tray, but that was it. And here I am now, going to one for a demolition job. One of the freebies was having green tea served at coffee break and lunch time, always of great interest to the cluster of gangstalkers as I drank it down while seated outside.

Friday, I went to the forest nursery to pick up my paycheck at the time they said to, and lo, no one there. The second paycheck "hiccup"/jerkaround this week. Funny how that "happens".

A near shut-in day, Sunday, getting out for a nighttime (2000h) shopping visit to the SOF supermarket. As usual, I had my gangstalking freaks around me, making gratuitous passes, often repeats over various locations in the store. The usual pissing match with the self-checkout, the repeating nag verbal messages seem to be a big thing for the perps. And too, I was left alone to deal with this shit, as the cashier oversight person was conspicuously absent. (This allows me to vocalize my displeasure with the continued adversity).  In the recent past, even the staff don't know why the checkout machine goes on the fritz when they come to reset it with their pass key.

A three hour nap attack put a major hole in my day this afternoon; never appreciated at best.

And a vehicular escort to the ATM on the above trip; I went to this ATM as it is near the supermarket, and I could get both done in one trip. Another ATM of the same bank is only a 3 min. drive in the opposite direction. This particular vehicular stalker made sure to get ahead of me, pulling an lane change immediately in front of me to then lead me for a L turn and two blocks. And so at the next light I took an alternate route, and proceeded to the bank ATM, a 10 min. drive in town. I parked and was walking toward the building and lo, if this same mofo doesn't cruise by, "happening" to be using the drive through ATM, something I never seem to think of. So it would seem that this vehicular stalker "chose" to go to a 3x more distant ATM so they could dog me all the way there, some 80% of my trip route distance. All at 2000h on a Sunday night. And too, they weren't quite done yet, as in the over-seeing abuser "they", put on a near identical same colored vehicle as the aforementioned stalking vehicle in the supermarket parking lot. Near like enough to freak me out for a few seconds to think that I was getting stalked at a second location by the same party. Which is all the perps need for these threat games, faux or not.

And lo, if they didn't keep me up for three hours before having me get up and go online to look up something I had in mind all day but somehow kept "forgetting". And it was my first online activity, and PC use all day, as I have become very much intrigued by the recently acquired book, " JFK: the CIA, Vietnam and the Plot to Assassinate John. F. Kennedy", by L. Fletcher Prouty. I am not even a third into it, and it is unequivocal that the Korean and Vietnam wars were planned for at least by 1945. Talk about a "changes everything" re-take on history.

And curiously, the perps twice had me nod off at the last page and half of two chapters, read with an interim break of of two hours or so.

Time to get this posted and see what the next week brings.

Monday, November 02, 2015

Cleaning Need

10-27-2015, Tuesday
A new follower I see; welcome to the Dispossessed Class of 2002, the fateful year when the perps went berserk/overt on me, and you too. Or now that I read some of, I am considered a "hostile contract". Hostility is might be a starting place, though ongoing assault with plasma beams, masers, extra-conventional gravitic and teleportational fuckery and the rest of the deranged mind-invasive and stalking abuse, makes "hostile" seem rather euphemistic. Though I do like that quote;
“The individual is handicapped by coming face to face 
with a conspiracy so monstrous he cannot believe it exists.” J. Edgar Hoover on COINTELPRO
And to me, COINTELPRO was warm up for later machinations. J. Edgar Hoover was also part of it, he "deciding"/leading the JFK assassination, by insisting that Lee Harvey Oswald was the sole assassin within 24 hours of him being in custody (not charged even), and that was well before all the evidence was gathered and evaluated (e.g. Zapruder film). And the over-seeing "they" (whoever they are, and perhaps including J. Edgar himself) knew the evidence wouldn't hold up in court, so Lee Harvey Oswald got nixed so that the lone assassin tag would stick for all time. Nice guys, and no less, LHO was a FBI asset. Anyhow, I digress, but one last kick; Jack Ruby, LHO's killer, publicly said it it was one large conspiracy. Those were the days when the suspects could speak publicly. And LHO even said, "I am just a patsy". Talk about the all time stinking conspiratorial pong of the century.

Anyhow, back to the prosaic abuse-athon; this is the second week day of my unemployed winter, until January I suspect. I got lots of errands done yesterday, and am still picking up loose ends today, though I suspect this will run dry by tomorrow. After last week's imbroglio over about not being fleet-fingered enough to make the cut at tree seedling packing, the work prospects aren't too good for short term week, hence getting unemployment benefits.

One errand to the alterations person got skunked; she wasn't open even if I arrived at her shop during opening hours, and I even had a stalker arrive ahead of me to confirm that this was true in subsequent passing conversation. Then the perps screwed me out of going there later just before yoga.

I cleaned the yoga mat from yesterday's practice, a little sweaty it was. (The "usual" forced jerkaround is to have me leave it on the floor and walk around it until next class). And why is it I am getting on to doing the small things right away instead of leaving them for days, if not weeks? Though they did screw me out of applying for unemployment benefits for a three weeks, thankfully to no negative result.

Then on comes the long running need to clean up the cordura briefcase that got covered in mold last year, and for which no end of ozone treatments could not remove the smell. Finally I was allowed to find a product that deals with the mold, any of its residue and a the smell. And all for $10 no less, though I had to go to that venerable Canadian retailer where the staff run around in red shirts. Lets see if it works.

Yoga was more benign in terms of Unfavored acts. The blonde woman cashier at a local specialty grocer was there again; a cute-ish blonde but a little grim, but then again, this whole nightmare and whatever the perps lay on the participating shills must be grim too, though I am sure the whole story isn't revealed. (Like, we humans are merely nonconsensual experimental vehicles for the machinations of our puppet masters, and I just happen to be in the front ranks of the abused-upon victims). Same deal, she keeps her head down and pretends that she doesn't know I am there. But she did know enough to park herself on my usual mat location, and at my alternate location in the corner,  three of the regular women filled in around me and one new one I hadn't seen before.

Before yoga class began, the dishy one-time instructor, there as a student, was flitting about to three different mat locations before removing herself to the far side of the room, and effectively, out of my purview. After class and while I was sitting on the couch and putting on my shoes, she hung around later for me to view her visage from 8' away. The last four times we passed by long enough to say "hello", but this time she was turned the other way. I don't know quite why the perps ensure I only get limited sightings of dishy women in my physical domain, but I suppose they have been working on this for so long that I don't notice. The one other dude was there in his fugly oversized shorts, and a ridiculous bob-do at the back of his head. Instead of the excessive breathing noise from other class members, there was one woman doing audible groaning. Like WTF; no one puts themselves out that much in a yoga class.

And who is messing with this PC? Someone turned of Bit Defender and it wasn't me. Someone also turned off automatic Java upgrades via the internet, and again, it wasn't me. Then when I updated the wretched Synology NAS (wretched for a whole lot of reasons, starting with unfathomable function and FLAC file support that was withdrawn within a month of purchasing it), I upgraded the "Assistant" to get intranet access to this box and it failed. On and on with these technical malfunctions.

Though to be fair, the perps didn't have me impale myself on the MS Windows 10 upgrade via one click; the PC tech I saw yesterday was doing no end of business doing recovery work. One has to do a full blown OS upgrade at the disc level, like Windows 7 for all to work well. Imagine the worldwide user vexation over this one; the perps just love to bring on angst and suffering.

A shut in day today, and the only time I was outside was in front of my door, as I was doing some metal filing to tweak my hand pruners. And even at 9C, plenty chilly, why, the perps put on the HD motorcycle and attendant noise. The only time I am outside all day, 2' from my door, and they put on one of the most loathed sounds I know of.

And what is it about hairs and eyelashes that "show up" on me, inside of 10 seconds of toweling dry after my morning shower? Not just today, but at least half the time. And not my hairs and eyelashes I hasten to add; a 4' grey hair placed under my more than ample L breast, a 2x longer and thicker all black eyelash draped over my nose (my eyelashes are shorter, thinner, brown and blonde tipped), and another black irregular head hair on my face, not mine either as my head hair is mousy and straight.

And what is going on that the perps need to block the "Purchase" button on CDBaby for Allison Crowe's "Souling"? I suppose I could go around the problem by going to the singer's website, and too, listen to a full free streaming play (no samples). This relentless fuckery over every damn thing is just so pointless as it is exasperating.

A trip to the auto body shop to drop off my vehicle for the L rear outside door handle install. This, after being set up to think that I could install it myself, once painted at the same shop. I checked out Youtube videos for this car, and figured it was doable. BUT as it "happened', the vids were of front doors, and the rear door was decidedly more problem fraught once I got the interior paneling off. So I gave up and was going to have the dealership install it for $210, but the autobody guy will do it for less.

And as it wasn't too far away, I walked back the exact route I drove; and the vehicular gangstalking was out in droves, and driving at me to get my attention all the more. I had exited the auto-body shop and was crossing the parking lot when a vehicle was aimed at me, and the asshole kept re-aiming his vehicle at me as I was walking out of his way. Like WTF; make it look obvious you are not going to drive over a pedestrian by pointing the vehicle behind them, not at them, and then again. Other vehicles where arranged to be pointed at me, to keep their headlights on me, and to get my attention. All the more obvious when it is a pointless gas station troll through.

And too, the bums surfaced from nowhere it seemed, to again, come straight at me. Then the extra loud bad mufflered truck had to (pointlessly) go around the adjacent block and then drive past me, all to add extra noise on my walk back.

More technical PC upgrade hassles; a triple whacking over an upgrade to my J River audio player software. It lost the library which had to be rebuilt, then it lost the external Oppo playback device which I still haven't figured out how to recover. (For now, I can play through the PC jack). All the playlists disappeared, and I have no idea where they went.  Then Firefox decided to crash, and I had a manual restore of the open tabs. The latter would really mess me up as it is the context for all that I do on the web.

And a radiator flush job was also performed on my vehicle today, the shop just around the corner from the auto-body shop. It is a tire shop, part of a local chain, that does automotive repairs. And since they charge half the rate of the Toyota dealership for the same job, why not?

I was told it would be an hour and so I took off wandering the local stores, some of which are regular ones. And lo, if the tanning salon wasn't nearby, something that didn't "occur" to me until after visiting two stores. I got my tan, decided that I best get back to the automotive shop, and it would be close to an hour. The vehicle wasn't ready, so I waited in the small four seat waiting section. Little did I know it was all about a gangstalk stakeout for the next 30 min. with the inevitable parade of dudes coming and going, many in shorts when it was 9C out. One younger woman sat in the chairs, three removed from me, with two vacant ones between us. One 50+ male came to loiter after doing the "customer" chat at first, leaning against the W wall. Another came to loiter on the E wall, sitting on tires that were on display. Still, two available seats, but no takers for some curious reason. Then an male finally did come to sit down, sitting next to the woman, one intervening seat between me and him. And finally, when my vehicle was ready and I got up to pay at the counter, why, the dude sitting on the tires immediately sat down in the seat I had just vacated. This whole musical chairs/stalkers orchestration was just as bad as a public transit bus for crissakes.

There was stream of customers while I was waiting (that is, hung out to dry), all seeming to be there for legit customer business, but after the shorts dudes, the strangest was this woman with a 1.5' diameter day-glo fabric piece (yellow-green) who came in. Like WTF; what would that be for, let alone carrying it around and into a tire shop? But as day-glo clothing (aka, hi-viz) is a part of the whole gangstalk scene, it was just another strange stunt.

No Halloween celebrations or interactions thankfully. I worked a vineyard yesterday, my first Okanagan employer for three years. And he spent the day inside, seeming watching news and videos while his wife gave me direction on all that was to be done. It rained off and on for the most part, but for the afternoon when digging over a 20'x20' vegetable garden bed, it was rainning most of the time. The soil was fine and silty, so no mud games, though "somehow" the perps laid on a fine layer of soil over my black pants and black rain jacket. The boots are still muddy as it seems they won't clean up.

On the way home I attempted to cash my employer's check, but lo, if there wasn't a dude stalker surge ahead of me to make the ATM line 5 long. Screw that, and off I went home. The surfeit of mud splattered gangstalking pickups around me did not go unnoticed either. Back to mud/soil displays on vehicles again, and I am sure this won't let up until fall of 2016. The next day I attempted to cash the check at the ATM, and lo, if it wasn't rejected as a corner got ripped off and the numbers weren't 100% machine readable. Skunked, and skunked again, something the perps just lover to pull off.

Anyhow, on to posting this for the week past.