Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Night Time Ructions

And why, oh why did the perps start the smoke alarm in the night, around 0300h? No, it wasn't a full blown alarm, but a chirp every 20 seconds to indicate that the battery was low. Finally I had to get up and deal with it, and lo, if they didn't screw me around with getting a spare battery and finding it too was way overdue, as in March 2012.After I put it in and it chirped too of course. And why did they keep me awake or else in a very light sleep until getting up?

Another "stoned" morning, feeling like I was de-realized and nothing was too important, as in limited amygdala response.

At the vineyard/winery it was bottling again today; tasks are unloading the empty bottles and feeding the machine, as it can do about 2400 bottles an hour, placing the filled bottles in the just emptied boxes, and lastly, labeling and stacking the boxes of full wines onto a pallet. Plenty enough to do. The asshole perps blanked me out and had me "forget" to load my 6 bottles in the case, all for the boss to find out. Artfully, they pulled this one in the very first four cases before things got very busy.

The aftermath of cleaning up bottling, and taking things to the dump. A stack of beat up pallets was dropped off at the woodpile, more refuse, and finally the recyclables. In the latter case it was my second trip there, and they made sure there was large commercial vehicles posted around me, even if it is the public (non-commercial) recycling area. Also a few posing dudes to keep up the dude-stalk show, aka gut-stalk, fugly sloppy shorts-stalk etc.

Then wine case flipping for the afternoon; they need to be cork up for the first day after bottling for the cork to recover to full size, then flipped for the cork to remain moist during storage.

Ditto on the previous day; case flipping and a garbage run.

On case flipping I had a helper, a red headed female with no chin, nice smile, and was reasonably social, but as always, in a measured way and replete with the now standard conversational drop-outs where it seems that she would reply but strangely doesn't. , and has an orange pack. covers up the red hair mostly with a ball cap. And when she first arrived she had a fugly orange and white backpack, and too, the orange backpack color wasn't too different than her hair.

A Naramata Bench wineries meeting after work. A soil scientist spoke about the glacial origins of the Okanagan Valley, and the resultant surficial geology. Imagine, 9000' of glacial ice sitting overhead at one time. It caused me to ponder if the perps were studying the planet then, over 50 million years ago, and in the "blink of a geological eye", this snow and ice cover warmed up melted to form the oceans we currently know. The suggestion of a sudden catastrophic event, even if a geologic event, was the hinting phrase.

As why are they senselessly repaving on the commute route? At least four patches in each lane some 60-120' long, ground down and then paved over in a day or two.Yes, I drove over the lower ground out surface, and too, I was re-routed to the alternate lane on some trips, and of course, now these repaved patches that didn't need a new surface. The perps have a long history of digging up the ground I walk on, as well as the road surfaces I drove over.

What is with outfits that don't respond to my emails of late; three in a week, one of them I re-sent the first email and still no response. Respectful inquiries and yet nada.

And the first downloaded CD in 8 weeks or longer, and lo, if it isn't a red headed artist, a folkie-rocker from SK, Canada. Not a coincidence given that nothing in my existence is a coincidence. And a long hiatus of former regular activity, paid music downloading and/or sample listening, is straight out of the perp abuse/harassment book. In fact, it is a hallmark perp planning.

Back in 2002, some months before the perps went berserk/overt, I was, and still am mostly, a fan of another red headed musician from Seattle where I lived. She (initials, NC) has since moved to Illinois and is now widely known. Names not mentioned to get by the the search troving software and all the rest of the social media associations that might entail. And as redheads figure prominently in the Unfavored demographic groups, it does cause me to ponder just what it is that causes the perps to arrange likeable red headed female musicians every so often?

Another redheaded female blues artist, one of my faves going back to 1974 with the album "Give It Up" has also figured prominently in my musical tastes. It is the strangest thing though, as she wasn't red-headed then, and somehow became so. Another fine coincidence. What angle to the perps present to the artist, assuming this even occurs and they don't manipulate everything from their control rooms; "we will ensure you become a famous blues player as long as you agree to have (or create) red hair". Something like that. Is there some psychic component of the vocals that is different between  redheads versus blondes? And is it different if the hair color is from a dye or a natural organic pigmentation?

A Friday, but a day off as I will be working both days of the weekend at a Traffic Control Person course.

The perps shut me out of the walk-in clinic again, with a 10 long line of dudes at the door just prior to opening at 0900h. This is the third such obstruction/protracted wait stunt they have pulled at this place in the last two weeks. All I want is to get a doctor's evaluation on some low values of my last blood test, and I have to go through this cattle parade to get in. Forget it; when I got in to see about blood test, why, it was this very same time of day and there wasn't a line up. Now, line ups at the beginning and end of day, all to thwart me in this long running game the perps like to arrange, aka Dashed Expectations. And of course the management obliges in that there are no reservations, strictly walk-in, unlike any walk-in clinic I have known in the past 15 years.

A rain sprinkle was started up as I just finished putting the laundry to dry outside. So... I bring it all in for 30 minutes or so and put it outside again. The perps get no end of variations on laundry drying; inside, outside, some of each, with sun, with wind etc. This is addition to the towels and cottons I usually dry in the dryer at the laundromat.

I got nailed for a 2.5 nap attack this afternoon. just when I was recovered and wanted to finish my list of inspection items onh  my vehicle, why, a sprinkling rain came on. So I pulled my outside drying laundry inside and then attended to it to wait out the rain. (They tell me that I am fortunate the rain wasn't arranged while I was sleeping and the laundry drying outside.)

Later, the rain was over and I checked the oil and it was fine. The assholes screwed me into not looking at it last year and had me go to Kelowna and back down two quarts of oil. I was fucking pissed as I NEVER, EVER allowed this to occur in all my prior 40 years of motoring. I was fastidious enough about vehicle care that I had a repair/inspect journal which had mileage and associated details of what got done when and at what mileage. Now, the assholes won't let me do this or keep a repair journal in the vehicle. I must rely on receipts kept in my residence for crissakes. What purpose does that serve?

Finally I get to complete this posting after two full days of course, evening time studying and yoga last night.

When I got parked, there was a dude standing at the pay machine, and then at each side of his vehicle for some strange reason. And then he comes up to me still seated and asks me where a certain building is. I pull out the map I had supplied to me and tell him, and he was glad for that it seemed.

The course had a capped class size of 14, and all the usual gangstalk culprits. There was the three jocular males behind me who found their own jokes soooo.. funny, and just had to thump the shared (with me) table. If that weren't enough, two of three had a coughing problem that would come and go. Which played into someone else from across the room who also had a coughing problem, sometimes as if in a tag team. At one point I got a shot of a beam or something in my R eye while they were coughing in stereo.

There was all round snuffling and sneezing among the class, the "usual" for public locations now. There was masers and plasma beams around the projector, screen and instructor, 60+ y.o white haired male who I came to respect as he knew his material, and was an authentic person. No curious smiles or other quirky stuff.

My table mate seemed to know I needed to see his orange day-glo runners on his feet being shuffled so I could pick them up in my peripheral vision from below. The perps cannot get enough of that, testing my vision with sudden moves and the like from below. The all-time stunt in this regard was when they had a short Walmart employee almost walk into me, as if she was about to head butt me in the chest.

The strange 60+ y.o dude with the micro-ponytail day on the first day looked totally out of place, and all the more so the second day when he let his hair down. And most strangely, didn't show up for the afternoon practical session, and thereby ensuring he was ineligible to receive a certificate.

A major blonde Fat Girl next to me, and as it "happened", she was with her mother who was in the business. She did flutter her eyes at me once, one of those "chance" things as she was picking something off the floor and I was looking down. Funny how that "happens".

And it was a very special perp event indeed with respect to a pair of safety boots that I had acquired in 2008 when there was a purported construction boom on and the farm worker pals had encouraged me to get a pair. I duly did, and lo, the construction jobs all dried up three weeks later and I never had a reason to wear them since. I never got anywhere with construction jobs for all the perps were promoting it back then. And in concert with the perps and their unrelenting fetish over footwear, they had me with a seven year old pair of unworn new boots on the asphalt road surface directing traffic around a road obstruction as part of a practical training exercise. And lo, if one of the jocular males, who is in the road construction business didn't happen to have a pair of new boots from astore with the tags still on them, and wore them that way for the four hour exercise. Another fine coincidence.

Anyhow, enough for a week and to get this posted.

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