Sunday, March 29, 2015

Tie Down Helicopter Coverage

Tuesday, and a long day as I worked until 1845h to get this one block of young vineyard tied down, That is, the canes are tied down on the horizontal trellis wire, and once bud burst occurs, the new shoots grow vertically..... any links etc..

At least eight helicopter passes by today, about six of them occurred when near a row end and about to start a new row, or else, some 10 minutes at most into a new row. Its the perps favorite time, changing directions, aka, the anisotropic properties of the energetic ether. (Anisotropic means different properties in different directions, e.g. wood; easy to split longitudinally, but very strong in other directions, such that we earthlings make structures from it).

At least three of the helicopter passes were directly overhead and less than 150' above the terrain. I would of been able to read the call sign number but for some reason the bottom of the helicopter was in deep shadow, even if white. There was a Bell 206L, a Bell 407 and a single pass to start the day with the black EC-135 (last week's regular visitor).

Very often fixed wing aircraft noise would follow the helicopters, kind of like aerial noise source piggybacking I suppose, for the sick asses who abuse me, now 13 years almost.

Yoga last night, and two males, with the Major Fat Boy and his hideous wheezing and gasping. He really laid it on with a higher pitched almost-whistle breathing noise and I was particularly irked about this new noise variant. Then, within a minute, he stopped making this particular noise. And why is this sad sack of blubber-ous humanity hounding me in an advanced yoga class when it is profoundly clear he cannot do basic yoga?

He and the other dude at the back of the class, upon class completion just "happened" to be hanging behind me in the lobby, all to precede me out the door, aka, doorway egress gangstalking. And of all things, they were parked beside each other away from all the other vehicles, and one had a black vehicle and one had a white. Pretty obvious for two males who pretended not to know each other IMHO.

At the winery vineyard, the profoundly noisy one on Naramata Road. More tie down hassle; vine, tool and/or wire pulled from my grasp all day long for upping the vexation factor, particularly at row ends....

Rain on and off all day, but not enough to get the rain pants on.

Tying down canes on the trellis wire all day with the background of constant road traffic pummeling my ears. As usual, it gets stepped up should I reach the end of a row and start another. Mild, no rain.

The perps screwed me into taking the wrong sealed glass jar for lunch. Instead of my standard re-heatable grub I ended up with pecans in the same size/shape of jar, from the same source, the fridge. Nice one assholes; never in my life have I failed to get the very thing I was intending to retrieve, but somehow I "missed". Go fuck yourselves assholes; your neural intrusions are insane as they are illegal.

And to add to the pain response, the perps split my finger skin on my L thumb. Then they did in on my R thumb, a replay of some six weeks ago when the L thumb was cut by an "errant" knife blade. The pained thumb games have been going on all week and they are very susceptible to the perps banging on them to send a jolt of pain through me. Sometimes they just fake touching something, as in doing it for jollies.

An arranged E. Indian gangstalking family when at the SO Foods supermarket this evening. First they lined up perpendicular to the row of customers in the cashier line up, as in all five of them lined up shoulder to shoulder like a front of vision obstruction blockers. Some went off temporarily, some looked at their cell phones (aka, EMF interference and color registering device), and lo, when I looked at them again, they were aligned 45 degrees from their prior orientation.

I obtain my drinking water from these coin operated kiosks around town, and one was four stores away from a pizza resturant. And lo, if two independent pizza bearing gangstalkers didn't walk through where I was to park for filling my water jugs. Pizza bearing gangstalkers are nothing new, and I have even encountered them on the public transporation buses on occasion. But to have two trotting by within 10 seconds of each other and headed the same direction is much more obvious. As before, food in a brown box is a big perp color angle, combined with the nasty-assed gluten and casein for immune system aggravation response I suppose.

Vineyard work all day, with the Naramata Rd vehicle noise parade; hot-rod muffler noise, processions of dudes in their pickups accelerating hard for no seeming reason, often with ladders and/or trailers behind them. The odd motorcycle for extra loud muffler noise, and even one chasing a Porche which was going quite a clip. Add in the redi-mix concrete delivery trucks and their associated pump and boom trucks. They even had a redi-mix truck preceding me outbound for the 8 min. drive with a red sedan between me and it.

My fingers are fried, with splits in the thumbs, a repeat of four weeks ago, though it had no apparent causal activity then.

Saturday.. laundry, long conversations with the proprietor over health matters, (e.g. testosterone supplementation), comings and goings in town etc. And even about wine no less, he having me write down some interesting grape varietals for him to find. Funny how the perps planted the notion of me getting him some wine for past favors but then screwing me out of remembering to get it only a minute later.

Sunday, and a late get up as the perps kept me up late the day before, as they wanted me to do lots of facial and torso hair plucking. I don't know what they get from this, now into the third year of this "habit". Many of the hairs are ingrown, in that they lie on or just under the skin surface and don't grow very much. When I do get to pluck them, they invariably have a hockey stick like shape; an angle of 120 degrees or so, the longer side being nearest the skin surface. I have no idea as to why they are first growing in an outward direction, perpendicular to the skin, and then suddenly take a turn and become closely aligned with the skin surface. Given the profusion of masers and plasma flashes that attend any hair plucking session, I can only surmise they are sampling under my skin at that moment.

A hike today, up McIntyre Bluff, and very windy when in the exposed areas, especially at the top. I encountered at least three parties on the hike, a fairly low count by gangstalking standards. On party was sitting on a log about 200m from the summit, out of the wind. One dressed in a yellow jacket and red touque, the other person in a red jacket. Aka, the yellow-with-red show, a long standing perp color combination. As in applying more harassment to the victim; say, "if he doesn't like red or yellow, lets put those two colors together on two gangstalkers and see how much he likes that". But this time the red hue of the toque did not match the red of the other stalker's jacket, a rarity. The red toque was more like a carmine pink, a color they had hit me with at least twice while driving to the trail head.

And why is it my landlord holds back the mail on Friday (or earlier) for me to "discover" the letter at my door step on Sunday morning? I was headed out the door for a tanning session and I find the light brown letter and so I put it aside and headed out. The letter contains a password to get into my online tax account, and I have been waiting two weeks as it is holding up the submission on my income tax return.

After my hike I get online only to find that the Canadian Government's tax (Canada Revenue Agency, CRA (=IRS in USA)) system server is down and I cannot log in. Like WTF; why do I constantly get shut out of web sites that I am  waiting for, in this case two weeks? It "happens" far too often to be coincidence, should one believe in the term any more.

Time to get this posted and start another week of toil.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

A Highly Strange Monday

High Strangeness indeed today, Mondays often being a extra harassment/adversity day. And I suppose, having yoga in the evening adds to whatever the perps are grinding me over for. (Total mind control by remote means as one example of what they are looking for, as it seems they still script noises when I shift my attention to something else).

I was requested to be at work Monday morning at the house/winery location, instead of where I had been Friday before. BUT there was no one there! Not the owners, nor the regular wine making assistant, nor the office staff either (they come later). I did my vineyard tasks over the next hour and a half, and there was one vehicle that came, but I did not recognize. I saw the guy walking around, and he was there for 20 minutes or so, and just "happened" to be driving out on the driveway when I was walking up, as I had finished then. The perps cannot get enough pit-lamping me it seems, and this mofo was assigned just for that alone it would seem. It is not like he stopped to ask me where everyone was. And too, I scratched my head to ponder if this was some kind of national holiday, which it wasn't. I then moved on to the second vineyard location and resumed the priorFriday's work.

I drove by the winery location on my way back and still there was no vehicles parked there. And the boss didn't enlighten me as to why I needed to be there after the fact.

Long time readers will know the perps pulled a similar stunt in 2009 or so. I was working at a farm with a conveyor for the crew to sort daffodil bulbs as they came along. We all had the same lunchtime break as there was a buzzer, and another to restart. I go back to the production line and there was no one there. I was there for a few minutes and then someone came by to tell me the crew was in the field across the road on a different job. So, some ten or so workers all knew about the change in job location and somehow forgot to tell me. When I rejoined them, no one said squat as to how they all knew and I didn't.

The vineyard was cold and damp, as there had been some freezing overnight rain. I don't know why the perps scripted this special weather significance while I was alone in the vineyard. But I do know they screwed me for $260, because they had the outside door handle break off before I set off. The freezing rain has somehow (har, har) caused the driver's side door to be frozen, and as I was pulling on the door handle a little extra, why, it cleanly broke off. Which meant I had to access the front passenger's side, and to then reach across to the driver's side to unlock all the doors from the Unlock switch.

Later I phoned to find out how much a door handle is, plus installation, and it is $220. Thanks a bunch assholes.

Yoga was also a little different; lower attendance, about 10 or so, and none of the dude force that the perps though was so vital over the last few months. Though, the Major Fat Boy did "happen" to enter the room as I was exiting for the instructor's next class. The same effervescent Darling Pixie instructor, though she took pains to wear those fugly harem pants again. A tight top at the start of the class, which is unusual as she often has a scarf or something loose. Not that I care all that much, save the harem pants. I have no idea why this dress parade is put on, bu it is consistent perp behavior in having shills and operatives remove an article of clothing. In the case of yoga, a number of the class mates have this slow reveal, where they remove an over-garment some 5 to 10 minutes into the class, just as the instructor does. Any wonder why strippers are so popular, beyond the obvious?

Now that I have moved my regular mat some 8' E in the yoga class, there seems to be choreography about who they put in my regular old location. Last week it was the Major Fat Boy, and today it was one of the regulars, a curly mid-grey haired woman who seemed to be pissy (again). I don't know why, as I don't instigate anything. A while ago, in a one time only event, she was on my L side and put on a pissy act over that, as her regular spot was filled.

And for once, even it was the length of the classroom, the perps let me see myself in the mirror while doing yoga, maybe the second time in three years of once/week classes.

And of course the perps screwed me over in getting inside my vehicle, having the doors not unlock electrically, and only one of the two vehicle keys on my keyring could unlock the passenger's side.

No explanation on where everyone was yesterday; I went to the winery location to log my hours, as the cut-off date for the first payday of the month was the day before, but as mentioned, I could not get inside to fill it out.

I was on bamboo stakes replacement, as this is a young vineyard and the vines need to be trained straight up. If they lean over too much it creates a problem zone when wanting to access the trunk from all sides to deal with low sprouting shoots and weeds.

Two black colored EC-135 helicopter passes today; both coming from the E and doing a turn over head and going back the way it came. There is a wealthy vineyard owner in the valley who bought an EC-135 for himself and it is a black colored model. It might of been him, though I have been "covered" with two black EC-135 helicopters flying in formation and not doing any turns, just a straight line path over the vineyard from S to N, and no obvious extra attention with overhead turns. Who has access to two identical black colored EC-135 helicopters?

I was attempting to get the wretched vine tie down tools to work; a major vexation as these mechanical objects have a habit of jamming and otherwise failing to function. Or else the tie-down twine bunches up and becomes problematic.

The black EC-135 helicopter came for a single identical pass today, about 200' over the terrain, as before.

Thursday, and working with the vine tied down tools again, picking the best of the bunch. And lo, if the perps didn't introduce new problems; wire that broke, canes that flipped and struck me in the face, and so it went.

Then I picked up a food order from the nuts and seeds dealer, then went to the winery to do packing work. Getting shipments ready with the paper work, making up boxes and the rest of the brown material exposures the perps so like to

I phoned ahead to the nuts and seeds dealer to say I was coming by to pick up my order, and Max answered the phone. I go there, and tell the guy who I am and ask if he is Max, and no he says he is Dave. Like WTF; same voice, and the same guy I know as Max for the past half dozen encounters in the past two years. Though he did kind of blink when telling me that he was "Dave", which I have come to learn from Lie-spotting, can register deceit. The perps have a big theme going on about fact and fiction, (aka lies)and I suppose it was not happen chance that the ex was a notorious liar. Such are the culls that somehow find me without me looking for them.

A day of task interruptions upon interruptions today; the refuse and the recycling, then driveway power washing, then the viticulture consultant arrived for a half hour, then back to power washing and then the landscape advisor, then back to power washing, then cardboard bundling and so it went. Part of the skit show was to get me wearing my blue rain pants and black gortex jacket in the vineyard (power washing gear), and then again on the trip around the house with the landscape consultant.

A different kind of Saturday, as I took my vehicle in to get the drivers side outside door handle (and linkages) replaced. They had the correct paint color matched part in Vancouver, and after a week of the vexing fuckery in opening the front driver's side by reaching forward from the door behind it, this imposition is now fixed. And of course the paint color doesn't exactly match, but I don't care a whole lot about that.

All manner of extra gangstalking on the drive home, starting with the dude in the extra-height silver-grey Ford pickup who just had to park beside my driver's side 20 seconds before getting into my vehicle in the Toyota lot. (Actually, before I drove off). No extra space between the vehicles of course, but he knew enough to wait until I got between his vehicle and mine and got in and drove off. (To prevent me from standing back and looking at the just-installed door handle perhaps?) The silver grey vehicle coverage kept up for all of the 10 min. drive back to my place, as well as the ambulatory ones; e.g. dudes pushing strollers and/or taking the dog for a walk.

During the car repair interval, 1.5 hours, I walked some four blocks around my usual shopping area, instead of driving of course. Which was red meat to a shark as far as gangstalking went; vehicle trains galore, Fuckwits moving in close behind me at the checkout, dudes standing in mid-aisle pretending not to notice they were blocking customer egress, ever-hovering "shoppers" placed exactly where I wanted to go for the one item I came for, and so it goes.  Same public gangstalking routine, just another day. And by the time it was done, a $360 hit for the door handle replacement and an oil change, and finding out a $220 estimate for the leaking valve cover. It never fucking ends, this imposed financial decimation. I was in the hole all February, and after today's shopping I am back in it. I still haven't recovered from November to January's work hiatus.

And while shopping on foot while car repairs were ongoing, I also went to get a tan at the regular salon, my once per week "habit" that seems to keep me from getting the infernal flu and colds over winter. Who knew vitamin D was so important for the perps? Which in fact might be why we have seasons at all, meaning that the Designing Entities had this planned a very long time ago if you submit to my all-things-conspiratorial perspective (for nonconsensual human experimentation for purposes related to the properties of light and other cosmic "ingredients" (neutrinos, magnetic radiation, cosmic rays, plasmic soup (energetic ether, aka omniplasma continuum) in all its variations, combinations, frequencies and interactions).

And during this same shopping on foot interval, they put on the dreaded HD motorcycle noise at its absolute worst, and while bearing this excruciating din, I looked ahead, and 20' in front of me were two women who had to be sisters; same height, build, hair color, hairstyle walking toward me. Apart from the color, they had identical close fitting long sleeve tops, same neck line and neither in an obstructing coat or jacket and wore similar tight fitting pants. One of them was in a yellow colored top, the other burgundy red. And have I not long observed this particular color clashing combination, red and yellow? Though, this was a rare variation on the red, as it is usually a scarlet red (for more color clash) instead of burgundy red. Outside of a circus or sports team, when does one find identically dressed women, save colors, never mind near identical physique?

Before the above car repair visit, I did my laundromat visit, this one earlier than usual,  which allowed for plenty of gab time with the proprietor after the soap was poured into the trays but the washing machines not started. He and I share the same surname by "happen chance" and have a common interest in starting hormone replacement therapy, and of course, the adversities in getting that accomplished.

While laundry was on, I made visits to two specialty grocery stores to acquire the heavier food items before my vehicle was in for repair. The first store which I am regular enough to have a frequent customer number happened to have a negro woman at as the cashier. Not only was it the second time I have ever seen a negro cashier in town (three years), but the first time in this store, even as a customer. It would seem the skin color games and Unfavored exposures were being brought to the fore. I go to the same kind of store two blocks away, to purchase coconut oil (with a long hovering Fuckwit posted there) after extensive dithering and checkout delay by way of a staff member either shopping or doing returns, and as I turned to go, why, another negro woman (15' away) for the first time in this store. Even going back to childhood, I could never figure out why I saw so many store staff purchasing items ahead or behind me at the checkout, some even being off-shift and in street clothes.

And I should of been clued in by way of the brown vehicles circulating around my vehicle this morning. Not the light tan metallic brown (also more commonplace), but the full blown deep metallic brown, one of the fugliest vehicle colors going. At least six of them on my limited travels this morning, when it is rare to see one even. It seems the brown color testing/exposures are ramping up to match the decrease in coffee and chocolate consumption of late.

Two CD's arrived in the mail this week, one on Monday, the other on Friday. Same routine; play them on the Oppo player and then rip them to files and listen to them via this method for many more listenings. Then again in shuffled order. Occasionally they have me listen to music from USB sticks, though I suspect this will extend to the vehicle sometime in the next year. I see that car audio decks now FINALLY have FLAC file playing capabilities which didn't help me when I got one over a year ago and could only get MP3 file players. What took them so long, as FLAC format has been around for over 20 years. This whole "lossy" audio file format must have the perps blessing given its widespread popularity as well as containing the audio equipment manufacturers until recently. Though, the real question is why is lossy music important to the perps, as well as music in general?

I did my auto insurance today, signing up for the monthly plan. More obstruction at the counter, one service person on and so I had to wait, then went to LD, and came back. The customer that was ahead of me had gone, and lo, if she didn't return when I was supplying my details as to the vehicle owner interview (it seems). As well, two dudes came to hang out behind me; like WTF, when to two 20 y.o. dudes go to the insurance outfit together? Then a fuckaround over the check number format; at the bottom of a check (cheque in Canada); the woman didn't seem to know what the account number was, and although I had it written down in my briefcase I could not find it. And lo, if she didn't get it wrong as I later found out and now I have to phone her on Monday to get this straightened out. Again, WTF; she must of dealt with this monthly payment method hundreds of times before, and somehow "forgets" when I am there. Or was it more face time with this very obese woman who was intolerable to look at?.

Then a scan job at Staples went wrong when I somehow included the wrong images, not their fault at all. Why is it I am not allowed to conclude simple events/actions in one go, and must be sent back to the places to correct errors or otherwise de-FUD the situation, say, by phone call? And of course be exposed to the FUD sabotage in the first place, per above check account number fuckery.

A hike in the woods, and it was cold as the ground is mostly frozen still. I see some one is running a bulldozer or tracked vehicle on this same trail putting in some barbed wire fencing at the height of land of this trail.

Then I found my watch was dead, strangely today when I had been "forgetting" to wear it most days last week. So off to the jeweller on the way back, and lo, at 1400h he was at lunch. Come back in 20 minutes. Then the scan job of the correct images wouldn't be done for a hour, this being a Sunday, so screw, I will go home and then attend to these again. Getting back to finishing off things where there are strange delays (really, how much business activity at Staples on a Sunday?), and still have more to do for Monday.

A cluster fuck at the jewellry counter while waiting for my watch repair; a 280lb male with tattoos, in shorts, and in camo with his two young sons "happened" to be cruising the jewellery counter and pretending to look, forcing me twice to move away from the personal space invasion from this fugly threesome. They do a 180 degree coverage around this jewellry counter island and then the mother/wife "happens" to join them on the other side, slowly moving in, first seeming that she wasn't related, and only determinable when they got close and began conversing. The perps like to arrange these split couple games as well as delay the moment of recognition.

The unauthorized credit card transactions and personal information changes saga might be finally over. Some $7k in charges have been reversed I am told, and my third card in 4 months has had its "fraud alert" status removed. They wanted me to go in person to the bank and get it done on Friday, the 20th. A series of artful delays, and phone call waits, and then having me sit in the chairs and then having a blonde woman do her walk-by to get my attention. The bank was closing down and I ended up being the last customer there at 1715h. This is all because they told me over the phone that they didn't have my current phone number even though they had no problem phoning me to ask about the unauthorized personal detail changes a few weeks ago.

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Music Media Studies

Continuing vineyard work -the perps like to pull the trellis wires from my hands as I am about to make a cut. It seems that the moment of plant injury, (or animal injury) is a vital event in their nonconsensual research agenda. And too, it would seem that not enough people have died in wars and insurrections, or even accidents all this time. That is, if you subscribe to the conspiracy agenda, aka alien agenda, and that all major world events have been managed ahead of time to exact the "researchable moments" the perps so desparately cultivate, with me and by extension, everyone on this planet.

Yoga this evening, a Monday. A girl with  fugly green pastel shorts, came in beside me at the last possible moment a the class had just started. She ended up between me and the Major Fat Boy, replete with his wheezing and gasping, not to mention pathetic postures. The fugly green pastel color was the same as the instructor's (the Darling Pixie) top. No doubt some kind of local color testing, between her and the instructor, and who knows where they all were in advance or after the class. Said girl of the fugly pastel green shorts also had a tattoo on wrist, not unlike Her Blondeness who hasn't been there for at least four months. And too, the girl had a 3" diameter bruise on her inner thing facing me, no doubt some kind of tattoo simulation exercise, or do repairing skin cells emit a different energy?

I relieved a CD from amazon today,putting it down on the table before I set off for yoga; the perps like to script parcel arrivals for Mondays before yoga. I   listened to the CD, then ripped it to flac lossless files, and listened again from files on the PC (rotating magnetic media). Going by recent past experience, it will be listened to from a USB stick. What the perps get from analyzing me listening to the same music on different media sources is beyond me. These kinds of comparisons have been going on for years, but have become a lot more obvious of late

post work, on the vineyard; some horizontal ones weren`t secured except by cut notches, and as the posts separated some, the horizontals dropped to the ground. The spiral spikes bent when I tried to drive them through the posts to the end of the horizontals, and the drill wouldn`t drill for some curious reason, it just stalled out. I have never seen this happen in all my 40 years of using power drills, a drill bit not drilling. It was turning the correct way, and it was a quarter inch ships`auger drill (not a large bit for wood), and the drill kept going around but wouldn`t bite in. I leaned on the drill to attempt to force it to start, but it would not. I don`t recall how many trips into the vineyard and to the tool depot I made to get these problems fixed, but needless to say, it was at least four back-and-forths. And we know who likes to script these kinds of events, whether it is me alone or clustering gangstalkers.

I spent most of the afternoon cleaning the driveway with gasoline powered blower; and got plenty of dust back in my face as the perps so love for me to take soil into my lungs and nasal passages.

I went to the drugstore to purchase a testosterone test kit to kick start this latest self-help initiative to alleviate the urinary urgency problem I got stiffed with starting in mid-2014. This after three weeks of stalling out and not getting onto it for no apparent reason. Such initiative doesn`t go unpunished; the twit at the pharmacy counter said the regular guy who handles the test kits won`t be in until Mar. 16, conveniently scripted for a stop prior to yoga. Said twit had retrieved the test kit from the shelves and had it in hand, and also manipulating it, while explaining his story (above), not that I believed a word of it at the time. And what was the purpose of that. To get more dude interface time, he of the fugly clashing plaid shirt. (No punctuation marks as Blogger has gone on the fritz).

I was to do work at the quiet vineyard, but there was to be two shipments to be made up. Then as it happened the contents of one order got shifted to the other order, and with a whole lot more pallet moving. I worked on the second order once I had clarified the stocking situation, but before I finished, why, a company photo-shoot was planned just were I was working. The photographer had arrived, and "happened" to be shooting pics across the very place where I had been working with brown cardboard boxes, pallets etc. By then I had moved 8' away to the side to finish my repacking work. and lots (50+) of flashes of light somehow made it to my eyes, even if I well out of range of the camera. The perps will exploit anything to apply more bursts of bright light to my eyes.

Afterward, I did fire tending as there was more cut brush to be burned, before the burning permit expired. I got the fire started with some petroleum products, and all was going OK, and on the adjacent public trail, why, a wheelchair act comes along N bound. Then three minutes later returns S bound, and then decides to stop in line with my vision, what I call posing, for a few minutes. I move elsewhere so I don`t get to view this sight, and I suppose the wheelchair moved on then. Like WTF; I absolutely loathe the sight of wheelchairs, and just when I think I am in a location where I wouldn`t get this odious gangstalking visage, the perps pull it off with extra obvious presentations.

The pit-lamping (lights, usually headlights) had been extra heavy too, with parked vehicles just sitting there to pin me in their beams as I back-up, turn around, exit my vehicle etc. Another trick is to have oncoming vehicles`headlights aimed at me by virtue of the road curvatures, and if the road isn`t curved enough, have the Fuckwit straddle the centerline to get a better headlight beam at me and to also get my attention as to a potential head-on. Not that I have any more concerns about a head-on collision after last summer`s stunt where this oncoming vehicle was in my lane and came straight at me and managed to tuck in at the last possible second. I still don`t how we didn`t collide it was so close. And furthrermore, just to drive the point home, there was a large unoccupied pull-out I could of utilized on my R, and somehow I forgot to even look. And too, the perps must of switched off my emotional registry as I was totally unmoved by this near death experience; in fact, I didn`t sense danger or extreme danger in the least, nor was I relieved to any extent.

I pruned in remote vineyard by myself, no stalkers or pit-lampers. I had the phone play me music through my headphones all afternoon. It wasreasonably pleasant save for escalated and imposed realtime finger fumbling and the new (to me) variety of burrs that stuck to my shirt and gloved hands.

Again, I pruned at the N vineyard -plenty of quiet there, playing music until the headphones broke spontaneously, the third time in 2 years for this pair, never dropped, crushed or otherwise mistreated. They were sent back for warranty repair back in 2012, so one side has a different history/provenance, never mind a return mail trip to the Ontario based warranty repair.

And what is it about headphones, magnets at the ears in service of transducing electrical signals to sound, that the perps must continually sabotage them. In 2002 when this all began, my Grados needed new gimbal mounts because the perps rotated the steel shaft in the plastic mount (while wearing them at work), thereby causing the drivers to fall off their mounts. Another pair got destroyed by way of accelerated parts wear. A pair of inexpensive Sony's didn't get sabotaged in the typical sense, but the perps messed with my Windows settings so I must wear them for online activities and my twice repaired Grados for audio via the Oppo deck. I had it set up so all music on the PC would play through the Grados, but that was too convenient so they messed with the headphone settings and pulled the pick window option from displaying in the dialog box. (It is very common for this to "happen" and then get "found" in one session even).

A pair of new Bose noise cancelling headphones got tossed down the garbage chute in 2006. I cannot recall the precise "reasons" (read inserted rationalizations planted in mind in real time), but I had to do it, there was no other choice.

While working the vineyard, the perps caused me to swear a number of times with the headphones on, having done the same thing earlier without them on. The end of the row tricks, cutting the wrong stem, and even nipping my finger at one point which was painful, but near miraculously, no blood was drawn. A first in 13 years of this abuse; the infliction of a cutting blade (or injuring edge) and no wound, not even a bruise later.

 Yesterday was laundry day (Saturday), and the freaks are finding me there more often. Not only that, they have a new found habit of using the same washing machines that I prefer, so they get to haul their clothes out just ahead or behind me and then loiter some more to put them in the dryers above. Said Fuckwit was on the PC while there, and when I came back, he was doing the time-honored reprise act of looking at his cell phone while outside. That is, same activity of looking at a LCD display in two different locations at the laundromat.

It seemed to be `Dudes in Brown`` day today. The Fuckwit in peanut butter brown coveralls who tailed me into the store, and then happened to be where I was shopping each time I went to a new aisle, also happened to pull this strange delaying stunt. He was in the line at the only cashier, and one person was ahead of him with hardly any groceries. I passed by thinking that the Peanut Butter Man would be long gone as I had more shopping to do. I was in other aisles for five minutes and I come to the cashier and was the next in line. But no, the Peanut Butter Man swoops in behind me to arrive at his very few items on the conveyor belt. Like WTF; he and the customer ahead of him both should of been long gone. It was like a micro time warp where they must of stopped what they were doing, and had the Peanut Butter Man temporarily remove himself from the line up at the cashier. If I had seen him there, I would not of joined the line at the cashier, but looked around elsewhere. So they pulled him out, all to have him arrive behind me a minute or so later, but in time for his groceries to be rung up while he was there. Can we say amazing choreography.

And I got my hair cut in the afternoon, and a change up in procedure; she washed my hair after my haircut instead of before. Not a big deal, and I also forgot to get my eyebrows trimmed,- another first. After that, I got my legs waxed in keeping with this new habit that started in late 2011. There has been all manner of planted reasons, but all the same, I am compelled to do it. And no less, the perps just love me to admire my own just-waxed legs for some reason when before I could not care less what they looked like. This set of vanity behaviors is also new.

Sunday... and not much of to report. It was raining most of the day, and I was kept inside mostly save for yet more vanity activity, my weekly salon tanning session. Though, it does help to keep me in vitamin D, and to get ready for outside tanning.

And what is with the perps dinging jar lids. This is the third time in four months; the lid remains serviceable but they artfully put these dents in it, see the pics below.

Sunday, March 08, 2015

Four Cut Trellis Wires

While grape vine pruning, my current task for the last month, the perps had me cut four trellis wires, all in the afternoon, while pruning with the Electrocoupe, aka electric shears. Like WTF; in the first week of pruning I had not cut four wires total, and now it "happens" in a single afternoon. As usual, they like to pull this when I have just started or about to finish a row. They even had me cut the same wire in two different locations no less. One would think I am getting better at pruning over some three weeks now, but no, competence is not allowed in this imposed FUD regimen (Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt). Though, I think they should add Sabotage and ....Adversity in their too, say, FUDSA, or FUDAS; the latter rhyming with Judas, the state of the First Feral Family who have been in on this from the get go. Though quisling might be a more weighty term, which I should look up sometime.

Yoga; against the wall to avoid a dude on either side of me, and where does the nemesis gangstalker of late, the Major Fat Boy put his mat? Why, in my regular location. And they put a young woman between him and me at the last minute, though not as compelling to look at as the instructor, aka, the Darling Pixie. The Major Fat Boy's wheezing and gasping could still be heard, and yet again, why is he in a Yoga Power II class when he should be in a starter class? Said wheezing and gasping gets on my nerves big time, and yet again I contemplate passing on yoga.

The perps let me work out at the gym for the first time in five weeks. They didn't sabotage my running on the treadmill which is very unusual. The designated Gangstalker Hound Dog was this 50+ dude in a crew cut, about 6'1" or so, two inches taller than me. This Fuckwit did all the usual senseless pacing around, and hogged the incline device to the point that I never got on it. They let me start on the treadmill, as in past visits they put their gangstalker obstructors on them to stop me from using the treadmill first. Said Hound Dog just "happened" to need a drink of water at the fountain which was next to the lockers where I hung up my coat, and reprised this act again when I was there to put on my coat after completion. Funny how that "happens'.

Pruning vines all day, not even taking a coffee break. Which really means a morning break, as I don't drink much coffee anymore due to the imposed urinary urgency. Don't bait the bear, in other words.

And of course the road noise ramped up all day, and they even scheduled some quiet moments too. They also like to arrange noise the instant I am pruning, as in severing a vine. Another noise-stalked moment is when I have decided what to do about the pruning; which canes to keep, which to cut.

And lo, if they didn't lay off me and let me use the electric shears without cutting or contacting a trellis wire all day. Truly a remarkable and unexpected exception to my work over the past three weeks. That still didn't stop them from dulling down the sharp blade over the day. And we know who likes to sabotage cutting edges don't we?

Another pruning day, and no cut trellis wires today.

The unauthorized credit card transactions continues; someone from MC phoned me to ask if I had changed my address to Quebec Feb. 23, and of course I said no. The same for a change to my phone number. Yet again, I will get a new card in the mail, the present one was only used once and later than these latest unauthorized changes. In other words, the card was illegally accessed before I had used it to purchase something (online). And so it seems that I shall have to get this here PC virus checked, along with explaining all the "action" to the credit bureaus. Imagine that, "someone" using my new credit card before me.

Only one cut wire today, just when the boss happened to be around. At least 10 contacts of the electric shears with the trellis wires, good for nicking the blade plenty. Even if the blade is razor sharp (sharpened by me in this sharpening obsession they have stiffed me with), the perps dull the blade after a few hours, having only contacted wood with the blade. (The nicks and wire cut came later in the afternoon).

Other side action was to help the boss set a post in the ground, cut down some small trees, and sharpen up the chain saw. Another perp harassment special is to have me attempt to file the chain saw teeth, and lo, if the file doesn't just skip and not cut the teeth. Always a new feature, especially related to sharpening; knives, pruner blades, scissors etc.

The perps got me up in the night about 0045h, with leg cramps in my thighs, as in both at once. I hobbled to the kitchen and took two of the Ca+Mg supplements (for some reason); why them and not vitamin B for example?. Anyhow, I thought it was potassium that alleviated muscle cramps. The Ca+Mg supplements "worked", as in remotely invoked harassment that needed a nighttime intake of this particular supplement.

I went to the other vineyard site, N of Naramata; simply beautiful and peaceable overlooking Lake Okanagan, no vehicular noise trains whatsoever. I did young vine tending, and then later, when the male boss arrived with a chipper and power tools, I helped him out in hauling woody material to the chipper. The other worker ran the chipper, and I did some of the cutting with a chain saw. Funny how the perps don't sabotage gasoline powered tools now, when they stalled them all out within a few minutes of use up until this year.

And lo, if the boss man didn't "forget" to bring the chain saw and sent me back to the winery and vineyard site to retrieve it. Funny how the perps like to send someone, either a stalker or me, away after being in one location. In other words, they like to vacate someone from the immediate environment for some reason.

At long last I finished pruning the property. Plenty of hints that I am a slow pruner, but I was going flat out without doing anything time consuming, including making decisions. The perps have a way to slow down the victim (me) on a job and not noticing how or why I am taking more time that usual. It is so infuriating, and yet they continue to screw with my perception of time along with hampering my fine motor control (fingers) and having me a fumbling klutz more than I ever was before they descended on me with their total control strategy.

Later I fixed some of the broken trellis wires; always a tangly and twisty prospect at best, and the perps making it worse by their methods to remotely invoke physical control of objects and my hands and my perception. Then if dealing with repair wires wasn't adverse enough, they screwed me senseless; lost tool, lost wire, and pulling items from my grasp and dumping them on the ground. TI (victim) infuriation is their first most choice (aka senseless abuse), and all delivered by  remote means in real time. Imagine, invaded up the asshole, figuratively and literally, nearly 13 years worth.

Saturday... and a laundromat visit day; I "forgot" a tea towel and the dude who needed to put his laundry bag next to mine (2" away) when there was plenty of room elsewhere on the counter, somehow "found" my tea towel in the washing machine when I swear I had moved all the washing machine's contents to the dryer. Said dryer cycle was over, so I took it home wet, though wrung out. And what an interesting experiment that must make for the perps; to  have one of a once-identical pair of tea towels get dried in the dryer, and the other one drying outside on my drying racks with the remainder of the synthetics that I always hang dry. All the cotton towels, and jeans etc. get put in the dryer after their own separate washing machine load as they are so hopeless to dry outside at this time of year. And yet, after two years of ownership, I somehow "miss" seeing the tea towel in the washing machine and have the dubious honor of the too-close and too-soon dude (cum gangstalker) to arrive and hand me the wet tea towel.

The assholes ran my hand into a full glass of cold tea + stevia on the kitchen counter. I attempted to pull it back in mid-spilling, and lo, if it didn't slip out of my hand and splash backwards against the backsplash and the supplement bottles that were nearby. Owing to the widespread distribution of the spill, and that it artfully blocked egress to the cleaning sponges, I used the paper towels. And in keeping with the perp-obsessed theme for the third time today, the roll of paper towels ran out in mid job, and I started a new roll.

Ditto earlier, when I was cleaning the bathroom floor, and I ran out of paper towels, and opened up the six pack of them to get a new roll.

And an earlier ditto after breakfast, this time toilet paper; a forced shit in the morning, and lo, if I hadn't "forgot" to install a new roll, and had to switch rolls in mid cleanup. Funny how all these paper product packaging-opening events self-assemble on the same morning for a three-peat.

A 6km hike in the woods today, the perps having me change trails while headed for the regular one. That was OK, as this one is known to me via maps, guide books and having used the same trail head for an hike in the same area. And too, they left me alone until about 80% done when three large women and five poodles were hiking in with poles (ridiculous IMHO). Then at about 100' left of the trail, a couple with two young blonde daughters and a small dog that couldn't stop yapping and circling me. The adult male had to pick the dog up and carry it away.

A whole lot of vehicles were parked around mine when I got back about 1400h; two horse trailers with attached pickup trucks, and at least three more vehicles. There were none when I arrived around 1000h. I did not encounter horses on the trail I was on so I assume they went on another route.

The perps couldn't stop inundating me with gangstalking brown pickup trucks when I got back into town; at least four in succession, one taking over from the next after one turned off, like a tag team but without contact.

Then a tanning session, always a high perp moment followed with plenty of ambulatory gangstalkers at the two shopping stops I made afterwords. Extra intense gangstalking hasn't gone unnoticed after tanning salon visits, and too, they like me to do financial transactions.

I shopped at the specialty grocery store, and lo, if they didn't have a "staff" malingerer at each location I needed to go to, and a woman in leopard skin tights and a young daugher (less than 2 y.o.) were also added to the mix, with the child buzzing around behind me when at the essential fatty acids/oils section, and while talking to the useless staff member. A major mystery tour, essential fatty acids, and the perps are nuts about them too. It seems to be a rotation, where one oil is deemed "best" and then knocked off its perch by another with the latest research behind it.

Coconut oil has been used for most things for the past year, but before that it was flax oil, then olive oil, and before that, fish oils. I have no idea which is better for what, and it all depends on what I last read. And the store staff aren't much help either, always heads down with minimal explanation. Needless to say, the ingestion and breakdown of food oils has been a big part of the perp's nonconsensual human experimentation agenda, and they aren't done by a long shot it would seem.

Time to get this posted and call another week of insane abuse done.

Monday, March 02, 2015

T4 Obstruction


For those not in Canada, a year end T4 slip may not mean much, but it is the equivalent to a W-2 for the IRS. It is an employer's statement of all earnings and deductions for the prior calendar year. One needs them to file an income tax return, even in this electronic age. Some of mine are paper, some are electronic. I was expecting a T4 from the Disability outfit as I paid nearly $16k back for income overpayment last year, which cleaned me out totally. (Am -$500 presently). That is to say, it would of reduced my taxable income by $16k, and therefore provide me a tax refund for that amount.

I read on the Disability outfit's website that overpayment statement get mailed (for some curious reason), and that the income T4 is available in electronic form. So why not a single net T4 slip then? Nope, too complicated I suppose, or else it didn't fit the TI victim harassment agenda. So, I look on my "account" as the Canadian federal government's Service Canada and see that they are retaining my address of 2012. Every time I try to update it, the page flips and says I cannot do it. So in dealing with the Disability outfit last year, I had them update it. Or so I thought. But no, they had my old address. I phone up the old address (a motel) and ask if any mail is there, and they reply in the affirmative. I get the mail after work and take it home, only to find a letter from Service Canada asking for the $16k which I already paid in person at the local (Penticton) Service Canada office, July 07, 2014 with a receipt too.

Here I thought I was going to get my tax return done this week and get a refund, but instead, I have to deal with these dullards who seem to be unaware that $16K was paid, and then convince them to hustle their bureaucratic ass to get me my rightful T4 slip before the tax return deadline of April 30. And it was a Monday in May 2014 when I found out that I owed $16k; another fine coincidence.

It is a Monday, the perps' special day when things go wrong, and I get to find this Fuckup presents a serious impasse to getting  myself out of the financial hole that the perps so like to keep me in. Then onto yoga, with the darling pixie instructor.

But yoga wasn't quite the same; first the perps seemed to have created a shit smell coming off me, one that erupted within a minute of exiting the shower. Then the dudes (male class members) were put on in relative force; the Major Fat Boy arrived on my R side for the very first time, he doing his wheezing and gasping thing in his loathsome shorts below his knee. Another semi-regular dude was on my L side for the very first time, as normally his is at least 4 mats away at the back of the practice room. Then two additional new dudes arrived in the usual "dude rows" at the back, one fuzzy haired freak in shorts. So it would seem that the perps are embarking on some kind of new dude-dude interaction; the semi-regular dudes on either side of me is new, and two new ones in the section where they put the semi-regulars for the last two years. Major Fat Boy excepted, as he started about three months ago on my L side doing his wheezing - gasping act. I had every intention to leave if the Major Fat Boy came close enough to hear his heavy breathing act, and "somehow" I failed to act on it. Funny how that "happens".

And most of the some 12 or so women were regulars, though some new-to-me ones.

And lo, if at yoga we weren't doing many different kinds of binds, where we reach  past our ass and ... you get the picture. Thankfully, most of the shit sensations were planted, not of real origin, but I didn't know that then, only when I got back and had yet another shower to clean up. And I resolve to not go to yoga any more for all the insane hi-jinx that go on, and instead go to the gym. All that resolve will be mind-fucked from me, as they have yet again, stopped my gym visits when I was getting into  3x per week routine that I even saw some weight loss benefits showing up, as well as feeling better. So much for that. Even if I made it to the gym, the perps can make one feel winded and weak and not get much exercising done. Been there, had it done to me countless times.

Pruning vines all day with the background vehicular traffic noise at almost an unbearable din level; the dudes in pickups with noisy gurgling hot-rod like mufflers were out in force, and with time on their hands. Driving N bound, and then coming back S bound within 5 minutes spells extra obvious vehicular gangstalking to me, not to mention them stomping on the accelerator in both directions to bring on yet more noise.

I ended up dealing with the bureaucracy over T4's again, though was pleasant experience, no resolution, "cannot find the records".... etc. I was able so supply all the details of payment date, receipt number, etc. so hopefully that can be resolved. (Or just plain ended, as who knows how this skit was arranged).

The last time I had a call with the same bureaucracy, the woman got quite agitated for no seeming reason. The perps just love this; stirring up people for no seeming reason.

The landlord was in my place today, no prior notice; at least the second time he has done this. but at least he didn't leave a plaster mess like last time. He got to see my "Jawhorse" set up in the kitchen area with the Dremel rotary tool nearby.  I use the latter for pruner blade sharpening and for the very first time ever, I set this up in the morning and lo, if I didn't get pressed for time and leave it set up. Funny how those "coincidences" just line up all the time.

Doing battonage work in the winery this morning; that is the fancy work for stirring the sediment in the barrels. It gets done once per week and imparts a creamy and buttery sensation to the wine, whites only usually. When 12' high on a ladder, the perps have every opportunity so screw one senseless, and up the anxiety level (= Fear, of FUD, Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt).

The when out pruning, vehicular traffic noise on Naramata Road was amplified up, along with extra traffic it would seem. Having three excavators digging in the neighborhood is doubtless part of the perp experiment abuse show, though to me it is just more additional noise. Have I mentioned the perps go crazy over displaying soils, their colors and go as far as arranging dirt splattered vehicles around me all the time?  And it is high dirt season, wintertime in snowy climes, and ski hills around too.

The entire winery crew is away tomorrow and next day, and as I don't have keys to the winery, I must take the Electrocoupe home with me. A 30"x18" plastic red box with white foam in it for the tools and charger, and the red vest with the battery pack, as well as the electric pruner.  I  took Electrocoupe home which begat extra fore and aft vehicular gangstalking

And no small matter, the Electrocoupe has a 2.4kg battery pack that fits around my waist for all of the pruning activity. And we know who likes to plant batteries (an unresolved dipole) around their selected victims. That it is in a red vest is also significant, as the perps never let me wear red. Only gangstalkers can wear red, in their ever frequent choreography of entrances and exits.

Speaking of red, the color is becoming more frequent. For example, the perps making my face go red after work; a little early in the year for sun effects, and too, it gets worse when I am indoors. They put this on two days ago for yoga after work, and seemingly they need some red-red testing between me and the Electrocoupe case and vest.

Plenty of screaming at the assholes tonight; they ran a sharp knife into my hand, they blocked the toilet for the first time in over six months,(extremely rare to have two shits in one day, more like one every four to six days), they dropped items from my hand, dumped salt I was applying to my dinner plate onto the stove top... and on and on.

On vineyard pruning all day; all of the staff (5) are away today and tomorrow for the big wine show of the year, the Vancouver Wine Festival, a money spinner for the Vancouver Art Gallery. So... I am locked out of the winery, the warm location where I usually have my lunch, as they haven't cut me a new key set yet. Not a big deal, as I have sat in my vehicle for lunch time on other vineyard gigs. Though, the pattern of all owners/employees fleeing the site while I work there alone isn't new, as this same routine "happened" often with the owners of the past vineyard I worked at.

The Naramata Road (adjacent to the vineyard) traffic noise is louder it seems today, and it wasn't just the four included motorcycles today, arriving two weeks earlier than last year. And the peps know how much I loathe the infernal HD noise. So... what do they do? Why have the same motorcycle/rider pass by N bound, then S bound four minutes later, and then return N bound to take a nearby orthogonal turn off road W bound and then return two minutes later E bound to then turn S bound for the second time. I cannot conceive of a reason why a motorcycle driver and passenger would be so pointless and frenetic on a chilly day in late Feburary, except given an incentive to make the freaking HD noise in the noisescape of this TI victim, all arranged in advance. I still have no idea as to why the perps are berserk over motorcycle noise and the whole leathers dress schtick that goes with it.

As usual, plenty of perp orchestrated hassles; having the pruners cut the trellis wire (twice), and have the pruners contact the trellis wire to hack up the just-sharpened blade (at least 8x). Sometimes they will even have me look at my fingers in their control and contact or break the trellis wire while looking at it happen, ensuring that I am totally clued out, when it would be last most notion I would have if I was in full and sole command of my faculties. Other times, I don't even see how the trellis wire was contacted/broken as I don't even see the wire and only become aware after making the pruning cut from the different noise a wire contact/break makes.

Finshed cleaning up to toilet this evening; the shot of bleach and some wait time seems to work, though it did threaten to overflow though a small bucketful scooped off the top and transferred to the shower drain avoided that potentially messy outcome. And too, for the prior 24 hours, the wait time, the perps had me pissing directly into the shower, something of interest to them as part of this exercise.

This would be the first blocked toilet in 6 months or so, and regular readers will know it occurred 95% of the time from 2002 when they first struck overtly to end of 2011. In a shared house in 2012 they restarted their shit games, and once out of there, it was diminshed. I reckon toilet blocking games are going to "happen" at my new worksite, just as they did at the last one. And too, walking over the septic field, unknowingly usually, is always a perp interest.

Other aspects of the "browning around" are the band-aid on my L thumb they cut with a knife, per above. And too, the color of the band-aid changes according to the ambient lighting conditions; it goes a curious straw color in daylight, and darker brown in incandescent light. I suspect the assholes cannot yet duplicate my native brown color detection/reception, as in retinal sensitivity, and are messing with my ability to receive this color. Reds and yellows may also be giving the perps similar problems given the heavy emphasis of these colors, often in combination.

A call from the Disability people about my overpayment yesterday; it was the weirdest thing, an apparently speech disabled person was using an intermediary, a telephone "operator", to translate the seeming keyboard output into speech. I suspect they could hear what I was saying, but the operator did the "translation" from text to speech for me to hear. And, as always, nothing is a coincidence, nor even happen-chance in this highly controlled and manipulated existence I live in. Sooo... I suspect that the perps wanted to separate the voice/response from the originator (the speech disabled person from the Disability department), from the operator who translated it. The fact that my voice will change over the duration of a half hour phone call isn't new, and it would be the perps attempting some kind of continuity fuckery of a similar vein.

And was this the ultimate purpose of the Disability repayment fuckover stunt? Regular readers of 2014 will know I had to pay back $16k of benefits, and my daughter some $1800 (paid by me), back in May 2014. I paid it back in July 07, and got a reciept for it, and they finally cashed the check some three weeks later. Then, as mentioned above, I expect to get a T4, but instead, I find that they are still asking me for the money. Finally, (I hope), this fuck up is over, and they also sort out my daughter's too (like I asked) them today over the phone. It is insane to be put through financial penury and to then get my financial transactions sabotaged for 8 months. What is the matter with the perps that they must sabotage everything I do, especially finances?

The last day of February, work days that is. Spent pruning vines in the vineyard. It got cold in the morning so I drove back into town, a 10 min. commute for a hot lunch and to get long underwear on and my ski jacket that has a snow skirt on the inside to stop drafts from blowing my my spine, as with the shorter jacket. And getting a long enough jacket to cover my ass and not ride up when bending over is a HUGE deal, as the perps so like to exploit these opportunities to run cool air inside my garments. I also got my Baffin Minus 100 boots on, good for 100C below zero. The perps like to chill selective portions of me down go guide my clothing choices and changes.

Another "per usual" day of pruning vines; the punishing roadside traffic noise, the constant background hum of 1km distant excavators (3) plus skid-steer loaders, and sheep, dogs and other animals adding their bit. Then the pruning itself; the assholes still won't let me take the electric shears/pruners to the vine and cut it; no... sir, not allowed. Instead they guide the pruners to be above or below or where I want to cut, or else guide them so the lower jaw, and not the shear to the cutting position. All to force me to relocate the pruner to the very location I wish to cut. That is if they don't jiggle the pruner while in mid-cut and have it not cut where I wished. Which is the epitome of this insane abuse-athon I am cast into. Read on.

Back in 2002, among other affronts, they run me out of an IT job, to no permitted job, but instead this "disability". Only in 2008 did they allow me to do farm work to get me out of the spending hole they also imposed. Things move along like this until 2012 when they let me move to the Okanagan Valley and attend three months of viticulture (grape vine tending) class. So I manage to get some jobs for longer term employment, and includes wielding hand pruners in this over-vigorous vineyard for 2.5 years. Now we are closing in on three years of viticulture work, and the assholes won't let me place a pair of pruning shear where I want, but instead mess with me at every cut and have me "miss" where to place them.  Think of that; coming on 13 years of this insane abuse, now rendered down to vineyard worker, and they won't let me place a pair of pruners, tools of the trade, where I want. I make perhaps high hundreds or maybe 1 to 2K cuts in a day, and they see it as their job to mess me around on every one, all day long on these and similar tasks. Talk about insanity gone amok gone, anal retentive; the perps have this in spades and yet continue to inflict me with this aberrant and sick mindset for 13 years nearly, and counting.

And it doesn't end there for pruning obstruction either; they had me cut two trellis wires today and ran the electric pruners into the trellis wires at least 10x today, creating yet another sharpening job, now every night of the week. Just a typical day of pruning where my finger movements aren't my own.

A dude clusterfuck at the laundromat, including Camaro Man who followed my pattern of late morning-early afternoon visits to early morning (about 0930h). Camaro Man steps up right behind me when I exited the washroom. Which meant that he was in the adjacent washroom and "happened" to exit the same time as me, and follows me on my heels just about. He had his head down pretending he didn't notice; normal (pre-overt harassment) would stop and say "excuse me", but as there has been a universal near abandonment of manners in my proximity it doesn't happen. I turn around to face the asshole, and he takes a L turn, still with head down and pretending not to notice I was pissed (metaphorically). The other dipshit in red stood still to constrict egress, and the laundromat manager was in on it too.

Then another clusterfuck at Wrs, a discount chain where I went to get nail laquer to seal the felt pen wring on the side of my diamond honing stones. I had to ask for help as I don't know nail polish from skin polish, and a tall-as-me young woman in brown-red dyed hair "helped", as in messed around with three identical little boxes, and made out she was looking for something else when nothing more was there.

Then the perps had me purchase a small frypan, which was what was going to put back but then a rush of gangstalkers came on and I scooted to the front till with both items, with a duffer-dude on parallel faux shopping to obstruct my path (artfully waddling in parallel) and then a tattoo-ed big girl had her buggy with child in it also obstructed my path to the available checkout. The cashier was at least friendly and made a comment about the frypan, and finished with a forced grin that became a grimmace. Don't worry about acting dear, I see these strange looks of imminent peril/scaredness all the time.

Before I set off from the parking lot into Wrs I get this dude in a lime green T-shirt some 20' away heading to his vehicle. The assumption was that he had finished shopping and was going to depart. Not a bit of if, he drops something off in his vehicle and then lead-ahead stalks me into Wrs. Talk about obvious stalking, the assholes were going a little silly today.

Skipping Sunday, but am getting this posted ASAP.