A 11 hour job today at a construction site; moving wheelbarrows of sand to bed and then cover a water line with the sand, the proper way to bury pipes so they don't get damaged from rocks. Oh what a job it was, as I had to go up and down ramps I laid down to get to different parts of the site. Which made for slightly smaller loads to enable me to take the wheelbarrow uphill in places, adverse grade to the logging road engineer.
It was a pink red wheelbarrow with a yellow tire that I used to transport the sand in. An odd color for a construction site, but we know who likes to manipulate colors, and also lay on Unfavored colors in my view. There was at least five events where they played this same pink-red color in plasmic form, a 12"x3" splotch of red color plasma accompanying the wheelbarrow in motion. So presumably the sand in the wheelbarrow took on some of the red color energy and once loaded onto the water pipe, it did too. And presumably the water, once flowing in the pipe will do the same. Ask the perps for a full rundown on all what they are looking for.
Once the regular construction crew departed at 1500h, the perps laid on the teleportational and gravimetric fuckery. Suddenly, the wheelbarrow could not be manipulated like I expected, dumping sand in the wrong location, pulling objects from my grasp, having the ramps suddenly bounce and hop out of place etc. All to get me riled up and vocally articulate the intense exasperation laid on me.
Then major crap in the porta-potti within ten minutes of them leaving. I finished at sunset. and lo, the the deep red colored vehicles were out in droves, sometimes 6 per view. One's light perception changes at dusk and dawn, from using cone cells to rod cells, and the perps just love to place red vehicles around me in these low light conditions. This has been totally consistent for the past 13 years of this insane abuse-athon the perps laid on me since they went berserk/overt in 04-2002.
Picking grapes today, with hired extra crew, drawing from the French Canadian pickers, aka, the Frenchies. The perps like me to have foreign language spoken around me, thus separating out the sound from meaning, though there is the odd French word I know, often dropped into the conversation.
There was a seeming lull in the action between picking sites, and after waiting some 5 minutes, (an unheard of length of down time on this site), suddenly two pickers arrived from the R, and the boss lady from the L. One of those personnel/stalker convergence stunts the perps so like to pull, though this was in a limited visibility situation.
Later, with the regular Rawk music system in the winery, suddenly cutoff when I detected the music as noise. It was an internet feed, and no one was in the room where the streaming device was. So how do these sudden drop-outs in the sound system occur with such amazing coincidence? And not just this time, though other perceptual shifts as well. e.g attention shifting.
I was dispatched early off work, then got nailed with a two hour nap attack to nullify any attempt to use my found time for backlogged chores like laundry.
I finally got my glasses back from the optician, a $200 hit to deal with the titanium temple that was sheared without any excess or undue force, just normal handling. The other temple has a dent in it, and there is no way with normal handling can anyone put a dent in this hinge-less titanium temple piece.
And service with beligerence; unilateral replacement with an unauthorized part. They soldered a cable temple on that was not supplied, using a different one from their own supply. And have I not mentioned the asymmetrical object fuckery that is the perp signature stunt? Often enough.
The new temple and soldered cable temple is seen on the R side of the glasses, replacing the temple piece on the far R and the tag attached to it. With the perps making my face asymmetrical with a 1/2" higher eyebrow on my R side, and these glasses NEVER sitting straight on my head, don't we have enough asymmetry already?
And sure enough, with my regular glasses back on, the perps pulled all manner of visual fuckery. People on the street were seen in double momentarily and other image fracturing. Same assholes doing the same thing each time I exit the optician.
The all time silly stunt for this obscure category, (Victim Wears Inaugural Lenses perhaps) was about five years ago when I first got this pair. They had two males in suits and in fedoras coming through the door of the optician store, almost stumbling on each other. Like WTF; when do two some 40 y.o. adult males go shopping for glasses together, never mind the 1950's fedora look?
Saturday, and finally I was allowed to get hair cut, and ongoing need for the last three weeks, as they didn't cut enough off the last time. The salon was closed for a week, and other perp mental machinations ran interference until the perp required obstruction/delay needs were met. But there weren't done yet; the appointment was for 1330h and I get a phone call at 1315 saying I didn't make my 1300h appointment. I did the explaining thing, and they re-booked me for 1400h. I was expecting that they would screw me out of a haircut altogether today, in keeping with their ongoing interference on this matter. But no, I was allowed to get my haircut at this training salon. And no one said squat about it when I got there.
I had a native Indian stylist with two Caucasian girls watching, as they only started last week and needed to watch they told me. The stylist had an asymmetrical hair style, with one side short enough to see her scalp, possibly emulating that distinctive male crew cut. I loathe crew cuts and anything shorter, especially the male skinheads, the ones with the shiny bald pate. For some reason, males over 20, and all their possible features, especially military uniforms (per below) is a part of the Unfavored feature perp freak show they arrange around me in public, and even online. The perps even don't like to have me with a hair cut that has the hair cut around the ears to make them prominent. My hair is always cut to length so that it drapes to my ear.
It is a hair cut that seems to defy the stylists, save a few. They cut my hair too long today, just like the last time. I usually give up after the second attempt for them to get it right, as I figure the cut and length have been already arranged in advance.
The stylist seemed scared shitless the whole time I was in her chair, so I figured I would get the hair cut over with. As usual, other Unfavored featured stylists cruised by, especially the fat girls. At one time they had three in view at once, about the most possible. And lo, if the fat supervisor wasn't in an unnatural orange colored hair-do, to do a final inspection, but she also happened to catch me about to depart with the paper collar on. Somehow, the stylist forgot and somehow I didn't notice. The latter being very unusual as I don't like anything around my neck, save a scarf in winter.
And hair cuts are a big deal for the perps; not only do they get to keep my hair and analyze it for whatever they are looking for, but also, the action of using metal objects, scissors in this case, to cut anything is of intense interest to them. Go figure; humans have been cutting each other for millennia, but most typically game meats, and here they are hounding my ass every time I use a knife to cut meat or anything else.
Sunday, and I did picking at the regular employer's vineyard, and everything went well, and picking was done in less than three hours. The grapes were in perfect shape, no bunch rot whatsoever. I did other tasks too, and even had to run an employee to another site where grapes were being picked, as he was the truck driver. And lo, if the keys weren't forgotten and I had to make a second trip for them.
Afterwards I visited the former boss to drop off borrowed materials I used to develop his grocery list for winery supplies, now that he is doing 30 tons, (=20,000L) on a shoe-string, much of the methods untried. It was way too much responsibility and risk for me to accept his job offer last week to work on his rube-goldberg/patch/fudge/fix winery equipment. Besides, I had already been through his charming persuasion for three years, and came out of it vexed at times in attempting to keep it all together and not ruin the wine. (Usually done by exposing it to too much oxygen). That was 2,000L, yes, one less zero, and I had two tanks to hold it.
On the way there, the RCMP, (aka Royal Canadian Mendacious Plods) pulled a traffic stop, though the let the S bound lane (me) proceed slowly without any engagement. The N bound lane was stopped for some reason, and I could not detect any genuine police activity such as asking drivers for papers. One was giving instructions to S bound drivers, one stopping the N bound traffic and two standing on the R side, and with two police vehicles with flashing lights. And all of them in dark navy blue with protective vests. All this on a corner and the speed limit some 60kph. And no sign of it when I returned 20 minutes later.
I have had a few of these kind of seeming pointless daytime police traffic stops in this region, some 2 to 4 per year. The last one was in town on some S bends, 50kph speed limit, and there was a single fat policeman in dark pants and in his tan/sand colored shirt, standing on the extra-wide 12' yellow painted median, waving traffic, and for me to proceed. No other police or vehicles for some curious reason. It was the same fat policeman who stopped me about a year ago, near today's traffic stop, and had me stop to view my driver's license, and he also inspected the rear license plate sticker for proof of valid automobile insurance. (Aka "tags" in the US, or at least, WA state where I lived for a time). And lo, if I hadn't put on the stickers/tags just that morning. Another one of those staged coincidences.
Then later, a pissing match over light bulb replacements for the bathroom. It is a four bulb straight bar fixture, with exposed bulbs, and their fuckery had already begun with the #2 bulb a few months ago. It stopped working and of course I wasn't allowed to know for a week or two. Then I touched the bulb when the fixture was on and lo, if it didn't come back on. One of those connection "problems", har, har.
Then about two weeks ago the #2 bulb was off again, this time the element had broken, as I could see through the clear glass. Today I got a new bulb replacement set as I expected remainder to go in short order. The perps fucked me into getting the wrong wattage, so I took them back and got a new set. The new set did not work in positions #1 and # 2;(two of four new bulbs didn't work). So then, the usual chase game, is it the bulb or the fitting into the fixture? After pissing around swapping them in dingey lighting conditons, the #2 location would not run a working bulb. Funny how it happens, that its the fixture, then the bulb and now the fixture. All the same socket of course.
Another supporting game of fuckery is to have me leave the same bathroom lights on after I exit. I always turn off the lights on exit if I am not soon returning, and now they have started this "forget" habit over the same infernal light fixture. Sometimes I am allowed to find the lights on after an hour or two, or sometimes a few minutes. This same fucking madness over lights and light bulbs.
Anyhow, another posting to record some of the events in TI World, down a very deep rabbit hole.