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.

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