Monday, December 28, 2015

2015 High and Low Lights

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday, December 27, 2015

Merry Harassment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Pre-Christmas Wrap

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday, December 13, 2015

Potential Relief From One Imposed Condition

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday, December 06, 2015

New Loudspeakers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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