Sunday, May 29, 2016

Interupted Week

Or should that read disrupted week, and we are talking about Wednesday so far. Monday was a national holiday, and no yoga. Tuesday wasn't at the regular vineyard they were spraying, so off to the casual labor vineyard for a day of tucking vines between the vines to ensure they stay vertical for the growing season.

Some 25 of us, only a few Caucasians and the rest being Punjabis to do the work. With this system of moving the wires up and down in advance of the shoot growth, I reckon we covered some 30 acres in one day. That doesn't include the crew of Mexicans who were evident in the morning, though we didn't work with them.

Now Wednesday, at the regular vineyard, now doing tucking as well for the first time this season.

Then Thursday, the whole day off to do a medical test, then adding in my own appointments to fill out the day. Then Friday, the regular vineyard, Then Saturday, back to the casual labor vineyard. Never more than a single day at one employer, either followed by the other employer or else a disruption day to follow. What the perps get from all this I have no idea.

I went to hot yoga tonight (Wednesday, to keep me on track), in lieu of the Monday power yoga. Some 15 other women yogis in the room, no other males for whatever reason. The most remarkable woman was at the next mat, and had a arm full of intense tattoo patterns, paisly and the like, and way too disgusting to look at for more than a second or two. That she faked me out at first with a long sleeved garment at first, and then when I turned my head in her direction for the first pose, why, she was sleeveless in her full tattoo splatter. Awful, by my standard, and full shock value to say the least. And the instructor in all her lithe and attractive slimness obliged in some respect too, tats on her foot, on her back and one on her forearm. What is it about this town where even the women deck themselves out in this atrocious self inflicted abomination? Call me a fusty fart if you want; if I loathe the sight of tattoos, I don't see why I have to be hounded with this shit all the time, and putting them on women doesn't dress it up any better. As always, putting male adornments or clothing on women seems to be some kind of perp entre to cross the Favored (women, without Unfavored features) with Unfavored males, in all their typical dress and adornments, especially from the 1950's. Call it (typical) gender feature merging or some such. Male ponytails are another one the perps like to play on me of late.

Yesterday while driving past the 40' grass median in the adjacent block, they put on some apparent local residents, one grey haired pony tailed male with his shirt off, and a humongous gut no less. I haven't seen anything quite so disgusting in the flesh for a long time. I cannot conceive how it could of been anything less than orchestrated, as no one hangs in public looking like this, except the beach in the summer perhaps.

Thursday, and a day off work for a prostate biopsy. I have a normal sized one (40cc) for my age as it turns out but as my PSA number is up, the ever cautious urologist decided I needed one. I shall learn the results June 7, but for now I don't care. In fact, I would take the cancer and get out of here if I could. We shall see.

The usual parade of back-and-forthing staff while I was in the waiting area, with gown on. That included the technician as it turned out, but no surprise there. Very often the very people that I am to see in an appointment while in the waiting room are evident beforehand, usually more than once. That ridiculous interview of 10-2014 at QG winery was another example.

There wasn't too many folks (just two) in the Scanning-Radiology waiting area when I arrived and got the gown, but when I exited an hour later, why, it was like the arrivals at a busy airport. At least they put on an prominent attractive blonde woman even if she was partially encroaching on the exit door way. No helicopters and aerial buzzing when I exited the building, but they put on at least one prominent brown vehicle on my way back.

Later today, more bodily pain incursions, though self inflicted. I wouldn't count a hair cut as such, but it was overdue, and then I could move on to a leg and back wax at the same location. The latter two were of minor pain, as I have done this before. I find it interesting the perps scripted an internal pain, again minor, of prostate tissue sampling and then external skin pain, waxing, in the same day. What they get from this I don't know, but one can add in the now regular habit of facial hair plucking into this mix of pain infliction they need to impose.

I had two young fat girls working on me waxing, and the supervisor was also quite hefty, at least 230lb. The odd blonde girl would cruise by from time to time, so I suppose she was on blonde-ness aura presentation duty, as some kind of temporary reference. I just seems the perps need to calibrate on an blonde girl every so often, and ensure that I see one at the correct moment of whatever is transpiring.

Besides, the perps kept me looking at my increasingly hairy legs of the last three weeks as some kind of reminder of something loathesome. I don't care for hairy legs, and it does make me wonder if they are at their games again of exposing me to Unfavored male features, possibly from the days they wiped my recall aged 2 to 5 y.o. What they might of done to me is unknown to me, but if the male features of the Unfavored freak show are anything to go by, it doesn't seem positive. And in reading Brice Taylor's "Thanks for the Memories....", and the litany of sexual abuse heaped on young children to service the chosen abusers (all male), it does make me wonder if the perps are still at their abreaction elicitation games still. (Abreactions are subconsciously experience stressors that are recalled in some way for all time). My loathing of curly hair just may also fit into this same rationale.

And later when back, and outside greasing my boots with a conditioning compound, the UPS delivery guy "happens" to come by with a parcel from STP, collecting more cash from the border crossing fees they so like to exact. And it so "happens", the said boots I was cleaning are from STP, purchased 3 years ago, now modified with a new sole and strengthened heel. Pure speculation of course, but perhaps the perps were looking for the new items from STP "vibe" to be compared to the 3 year old (and much worn) "vibe" of the older boots. And of course, a brown box parcel from the delivery man in brown and having exited a deep brown colored delivery vehicle. And do the perps every love browning around. As always, all the quotes around "happen" relate to the seeming fact that nothing that I do/see/think or otherwise experience is coincidence, but arranged down to the millisecond here in the ultimate containment in situ prison, TI World.

Rain this morning in the vineyard, and for this profession, it doesn't usually happen. The boss lady said we could pack it in, but we decided to finish a row and then decide, and lo, if the rain didn't drop off at decision time. So we kept at it, but that didn't stop the rain from increasing in intensity again. We stuck with, even if soaked to the arms and back, as the rain water drains past the raincoat cuffs on wicks onto my shirt. By noon the rain finally relented, and we had some sun even.

Finally some progress on the sabotaged tights I so like for winter time wear. (Mind you, I bought an alternative pair recently). They have a fleece lining and I got blown off by a 60 day defective merchandise warranty from the store. I wrote to the company who makes them, and they indicated there is a one year warranty. Progress in protracted and halting increments, as the perps had me not do anything for month before "getting" the idea to search the web for a email address as the company only had a phone number on their website. Inconveniently, the phone number wasn't accessible from Canada, so more adversity along the way. Perhaps I will finally make some progress. And the perps do love returns, and otherwise sending used items back in this long run game I suffer under.

An early start, owing to a 0600h work start at the casual labor vineyard this Saturday. I drove there in my red courtesy car, a Scion, as I took my vehicle in for repair. So I figured, why not use their car and get a day's work in? A mistake, going to the Toyota dealer, even if it started with a $40 oil change. Because the bill was $550 by the time the upsell, the requested minor add-on repairs, and the ignition wire "problem" erupted. The upsell in part was to replace the spark plugs, which was likely needed it as I hadn't done anything about them for four years. But, the "ignition wires fell apart", and they didn't have any in stock (unbelievable) so they got a wire set from a local after market supplier. I feel rooked to say the least, and the perps know that I am very guarded about any repairs at any car dealership, but "somehow" I lost my vigilance and got screwed for a big one. That is 6 days of farm worker pay for that bill alone. Thanks a fucking bunch.

It was tucking vines all day today, something I don't mind as it is so relatively simple to do. The usual multicultural gang were there, the Punjabis, Mexicans and a few Caucasians in the mix.

While tucking vines I got a call from Farm Worker Friend, but as I was busy, I couldn't talk long. She said she would phone in the evening, but didn't, not even after I sent a text. I hadn't heard from her since 01-2016, and had even sent an email about three weeks ago and never heard back. I figured I was on her black list for some reason, and then this call from the blue. Then no delivery on the later promise. It seems calls have specific timing as well.

It is rare that they ask me to work Sunday (tomorrow), but owing the the above mentioned car repair hit, I had better not turn down the opportunity to keep me out of hock. The perps have me on a squandering spree of late, and I am getting extremely tensed about spending anything more than rent, groceries and utilities. And that was before the car repair hit of today.

Anyhow, tomorrow I return to my casual labor vineyard job in my regular vehicle. No doubt that might be the whole deal; work at one place having driven in a red car, and return the next day having driven my usual (mid-grey) vehicle. Exciting times in perp nonconsensual human experimentation indeed.

Back to the early start; as it turn out at 0520h, I wasn't the only one out in the neighborhood. There was some kind of "social scene"; bums, blonde girl in knee length dress, hugging players, and then a taxi swooping in at the last second to then block my lane egress and then disgorge some horribly tattoo-ed (two arms full) male. So I had to back up 80' in this red courtesy call and take an alternate route out. And as part of this "social scene" why, two groups of neighbors were out standing around. All this arranged the fucking day I have this courtesy car. Seems like a perp setup to me.

Sunday, and a work day at the casual labor vineyard. Myself and the Mexicans and the Punjabis this time, no other ethic representation, me being the only Caucasian. As usual, the "ignore me" routine, save the boss man, though by the afternoon one bearded and turbaned Punjabi elder said that we "work together well", and so we combined as a pair on either side of the row for at least 4 rows. These rows are over 400m long I reckon. No major conversation of course, as his English wasn't the best. And for the perps, plenty of those Unfavored vignettes they could place in front of me from two feet away (other side of the row); turban, long beard, brown skin, elder male, and dressed in those funny pajama outfits they so like. Not a big deal, though being the perennial victim is always a grim show after 14 years of it.

I must say my car's performance has improved with the new spark plugs and ignition wire set. I had given up on any performance improvements.

No call from Do Not Post, having left a message. "Instead", my mother phones. I cannot count all the times when I expect a call, and someone else phones. Considering how few calls I get, that takes planning. I am optimistic Do Not Post will call though perhaps it won't be for tonight.

I caught, or was allowed to be exposed to, a full frontal sabotage of my music software yesterday. The Artists section was listing Albums, the same as the Albums choice. I checked it twice, and it was malfunctioning. Only after closing the Artist section and re-opening it, did it "correct" itself. Blatant software sabotage.

Anyhow, getting this posted for the week.

Monday, May 23, 2016

Warehouse Work

All day under a concrete roofed warehouse dealing with repacking and hefting wine cases (36lb) today. I had a an engaging co-worker, so it wasn't all bad. Better yet, we were left alone for the most part, though the boss lady came and seemed to approve of our work and level of accomplishment. There were a few males coursing by, on foot or on forklifts, but it wasn't the biggest deal.

Yoga-stalk tonight, and two other dudes and four other women. I see they want to hold the Solstice session on June 20 outside in a public park. Interesting that, all those spinal flexings and ass-in-air bending (downward dog) in the great outdoors. Though I suppose outside yoga has been around for millennia, just not for me.

I see the winsome, slim, mop-headed babe was there again upon exiting the yoga class, crossing in front of me and bending over, much like last week, though at a respectful distance and all. Funny how they have now moved to putting the attractive babes outside the classroom and visible upon exit, while the in-class women are nothing to look at now. Most curious. I predict the fugly female instructor next, though I have been through a few of them, but not lately (last two years).

All day I had an ache in my chest cavity, as if I over exerted myself yesterday. Like WTF; I didn't, and am very careful about such. Twists and turns of my upper torso are painful.

And don't blame it on yoga last night either, because there was nothing new we did. Which should of ameliorated the problem, if of organic origin.

Why am I so tired in the evenings now? Just plain wiped out. Worse yet, the assholes have me each tortilla chips and chocolate before dinner. A total violation of my dining etiquette, because if you eat the carbos on their own, without protein, you are going to wear it. And the chocolate "habit" has come to revisit me in the last two months, since March 2016. When I started taking the L-phenylalanine in 09-2015, poof, the chocolate "habit" was gone, after getting stiffed with it for 14 years. Though it seems the perps have re-invoked their brown color focus of late; more vehicles, more shit games, more gangstalkers wearing brown clothing etc. But they still have me off coffee for over a year, which just pisses me off considerably.

Cashed my paycheck with my usual consort of freaks/stalkers; the large gutted males and the elder-stalkers seem to be vogue of late. Tattoos are now getting "stalk time" too as the good weather is here. And my work colleague has two forearms full for crissakes. Tats are so disgusting. Last week at the courier office, the woman at the counter had tats on her arms like they were splatter marks, something I found extremely off-putting. And if I don't like tattoos, why am I getting hounded by this Unfavored freak show theme all the time?

The apparent rationale by way of recent email is that the book seller who sent me the "Bridges of Madison County" in error claims to not have any order details or financial information, just the item and recipient and address. He suggests it could be a gift. Like from whom? And why not tell me who for crissakes?

Some asshole, in conventional terms at least, entered my residence in my absence  sometime today and without notice or permission and bent the seat of my chair. Presumably, the asshole stood on it to access a high object, and then ventured too far on the seat and bent the frame of the seat. (Or else was heavier than I am (200lb), as I have stood on this seat (not recently), and never bent it). I texted the landlady to ask if anyone had been let in, and she said no. And what purpose does this serve, this insane stupid and bone-headed sabotage? I am going to replace it as the seat now has a downward slope on it which is not comfortable. Is this some kind of body memory test game or what? Though in my experience, the perps had taken over my body memory sometime in 2008 or so, when they had me inadvertently increase the speed of the treadmill (at a gym) I was on and I didn't notice.

R side, dented, should be smooth so it lies flat. L side is less dented. And it won't lie flat anymore. I turfed it outside to the back lane, which "happened" to be the day the landlord mowed the grass there and he stuffed on the other side in a less visible location. I put it back and someone took it inside of a day, possible the garbage collectors as it was garbage day then.

My sore chest and arm was still noticeable this morning, but now in the evening it is bothering me less. I cannot understand what on earth the assholes would get from this, adding pain at every torso turn or high arm reach.

And where has Rachael O gone in the blogosphere, or anywhere else for that matter? Her last post was April 04, 2016, and I have never known her to drop out of sight with no notice. Always more concerning when a TI is forced to live rough, as the event-scape is a whole lot more variable to say the least. Never mind that I never got a reply my challenge to her that it was an absurd assertion that I was a perp and I directed her exactly how to go about performing due diligence in this blog. (Contact Debbie Newhook at Funny how that "happens"; an urgent need for action and the main player disappears.

Vineyard work today, keeping the irrigation lines taut and securing them to end posts. Some FUD from the boss lady as to what she wanted, but I got it all done today. And of course she laid on a list of lots of other things to do, one being painting. And do I ever loathe that activity, in good part because in a world of things going wrong at 50x the normal rate, I do NOT need anything going wrong on this job. It scares me shitless and there is no one else to hand it over to. My co-worker is dispatched elsewhere in this curious on-then-off hiring arrangement he suffers by, or at least, apparently so.

A shit storm of heretofore unknown proportions this morning. No wonder they had me awaken 20 minutes early before the alarm. No less than four bowel movements before I got ready to go, plus a fake one where nothing happened. Said four bowel movements were all cow pies, and all in the toilet thankfully. Some three tablets of Immodium saved me until about 1000h, just before I was to apply paint to a door at work, (after doing the prep work) when yet another shit attack came on, again, thankfully arranged to be in the toilet. Another tablet of Immodium saved me for the rest of the day. No wonder they put the double pack on sale last weekend at LD.

And why this all of a sudden when I eat the same food day in and out? Why, I added diced red peppers into my regular chicken-onion-mushroom gumbo last night, and I suppose that is the putative cause, at least from the deranged perp perspective. About six weeks ago a shit attack came on the morning following imbibing one glass of pomegranate juice in the prior evening, though I have had a few attacks since, but without apparent red food or drink causal. And about three years ago a major shit attack came on when I ate a bowlful of cherries off the tree, as there was a cherry tree at the vineyard I worked. Though, it is said that red colored food makes hyperactive children (ADHD, or ADD-H) more hyper.

The perps have a bizarre fascination with paint, and have hounded me on the buses and streets with commercial painting personnel, decked out in their trades outfits and artfully splattered with paint of course. I picked up the quart can of paint two days and took it into work, per instructions, not thinking I would be the schmo who would be applying it. (And extra gangstalking coverage while ferrying this quart of paint, including a pit lamper when I exited my parked vehicle). But as it "happened", per yesterday's work instructions, I was to be doing the job. I hate painting, and as mentioned above, all manner of things go wrong, especially with paint. For all the acute stress over this job, there were no major problems, and in fact, the job went reasonably well. I was in the paint store this morning for extra supplies. For the record, it was a dark grey, semigloss, much the same as the coat that was on the door and trim.

Saturday on this here long weekend, and I was expecting to work at the casual labor vineyard. It was raining, and although there was some convergence by the Punjabi workers, a foreman came by, though not the regular foreman, though I did recognize the face. He said, after looking at his cell phone, that it would be too wet to work today. This was after I got into my rain gear and rubber boots in preparation for a day's wet work. Ergo, no work, or at least not for me. What transpired after that in  Punjabi I have no idea. Here the perps block me from going to this Saturday work site for four weeks, (other jobs, and a useless doctor's visit), and then pull a rain day to then stop me from working yet again.

Then to stoke up the FUD, the foreman mentioned I hadn't been there for a while, and I mentioned above work arrangements, and he wanted me for next weekend. And of course I "forgot" that my vehicle gets attended to next Saturday at the dealership. I made the appointment yesterday and didn't expect to get in for three weeks and lo, if they booked me in a week. Funny how that "happens", not to mention the "forget" Fuckery to crank up my angst over the casual labor employer. So should I fess up and attempt to clear up the "casual" side my work understanding or let it slide? Bring on the Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt.

I am now cranked about web and surveillance cams, though I don't know why. (Because I am literally and figuratively surveilled and intruded up the asshole every microsecond by the Pyschopathic Confederacy if you accept the given experiences as given on this blog). The above mentioned intrusion with the broken furniture is "bothering" me, using the term loosely. This is at least the fourth seeming landlord intrusion in three years, one other remarkable time was the plaster mess on my table after someone worked on the install of the covering of the old air conditioner location. And it is now where the heat pump unit is, and very possibly the recent intrusion and furniture damage was due to a semi-annual inspection of the unit that precipitated in the careless heat pump technician to bend the chair seat.

As it "happens" I have  spare chair from the MCdos renovation job I did in 12-2015, so that is now my regular table chair. It is at least 3" higher and with a wood seat. Better yet, it is built of rigid steel so no tradesman can fuck it up. So why do the perps have to go through this outrageous intrusion nonsense when they could of taken out the chair with a rivet "malfunction"?

Sunday, and the vexations of getting to full PC functionality, before the take down of 12-2015 continue. I cannot get audio files to play for crissakes, and it is a beautiful exploitable set up by the perps; OPPO playback device, J River software and Windows 10, and nothing seems to fucking work. Some 700 audio files and I have to take them to the player by USB stick for crissakes, and suffer the one album-at-a-time klunky interface via this PC screen. In the course of support emails with OPPO I wrote them that they should make dedicated storage and interface devices. Though I am not optimistic, as they just released an app for Android, devolving the interface to someone else, embracing the essential problem all over again. And of course, the Android interface doesn't work for me for some reason.

 And so the audio playing sabotage continues, now since the headphone only days of 12-2015;
  • no audio files as the PC was out of commission from 12-2015 to last week, so I purchased some new music, discs and files
  • new speakers but the amp crapped out, and was sent to Chicago
  • said amp came back from Chicago not fully repaired, with static in the L channel, and was sent back
  • purchased a new amp and got the OPPO player to play discs through it, then from the USB stick, and even audio from DVD's
  • a FM tuner was purchased, but it took four weeks for the correct aerial connection to arrive
  • then only a single decent FM channel available, the immigration promoting CBC just to rile me up
  • then the PC and my audio files come back and lo, it won't play through the software, the same I had before
  • and to add insult to injury, the same software player on the PC won't even play into headphones, my stock solution for the past 10 years, but Youtube works fine.
Go figure.

And along the way, the assholes messed with the printer for another rage-ifcation stunt, ultimately copying to Notepad to save the day, even if it double spaced the output.

And keeping with the interface technology-gone-wrong theme, the assholes had the alarm set on my watch from last week's returned new watch caper, and started up the adversity in getting the alarm turned off without clobbering anything else. Then they had the chime feature turned on, and I cannot get this turned off

A Victoria Day holiday Monday in these here parts, and I am painting (of all things) the wall portion where the plywood cover is over top of the former air conditioner location. It has been sitting that way for at least two years, and the recent "mistake" in ordering (online) too many under-shelf hangers means that I am going to put in a longer shelf in. So... that snowballed into dealing with the big blotch of plywood on the wall. Which dealt with filling holes and then painting on patches in the bathroom and other areas. Funny how that happens; an activity that I have avoided for over 14 years, and here they are having me perform this twice inside of a week.

Yesterday, Sunday, I got the paint, and had my usual consort of faux shoppers loitering around, presumably for the moment I actually paid for it all. But as the perps are obsessed over paint, why, it could be that too.

Saw the director's cut of "JFK" on DVD and the director's commentary the last two evenings. A well done show, and still holds up factually based on more recent readings. And an ironic gotcha in casting an older Jim Garrison as Earl Warren, something I didn't know until last night. All members of the Warren Commission should of been sent to prison; just read Accessories After the Fact or On the Trail of the Assassins for starters. Despicable, and proof writ large that the planners of the whole thing had all the bases covered. Lets see; in preparation they stand down the military guard, re-route along a more vulnerable route, then they kill a sitting US president and then debase the autopsies, the Warren Commison and even the much later House Select Committee on Assassinations. And it seems the story was already pre-readied, as even Edgar J Hoover was promoting the single assassin theory by day's end. And the details of the suspect were in all the newspapers, even within hours, which included New Zealand newspapers as shown in the film. Talk about info-containment. And too, one can assume the FBI, the CIA and possibly military intelligence agencies were complicit in shoveling the evidence under the carpet. And given the unusual witness attrition rate afterward, one can assume the masters of Fuckery were pulling strings too, and killing enough witnesses even all the way to the HSCA in 1978. No wonder they went with the (mind controlled) lone nutter theory again with RFK, but even there the shot count doesn't add up. And so it goes, and for what?

More wall painting today; the computer matched color sample wasn't exact, and so I painted a 12' wall to cover all patches that stood out, the most prominent being the former air conditioner region. That meant more masking and a trip to the local hardware store. The back lane HD motorcycle noise was duly cranked up at different intervals today, even putting an extra noisy third one.

Time to call this one done for the week, even if a day late for readers outside this country.

Sunday, May 15, 2016

PC Takedown Recovery

A posting absence due to a hard drive failure, a very common event here in TI World. This is my alternate PC, as the main one has taken an inexplicable 4 months, and continues as I write this. So I got a re-furbished Lenovo in 02-2016, thinking it would last 6 months or so. Wrong on that; the assholes took out the hard drive, though all data was recovered. I got a new SSD installed and since it was a bare drive, decided to go with Windows 10. For all that farting around, a $200 bill, plus $150 for the SSD. Thanks a bunch assholes.

Though this PC has a whole lot more snap to it, as I am sure it is the SSD, though Win 10 might be part of it too.

As part of the PC takedown fuckery, all my Firefox tabs are poof, gone. I typically have ~50 or so open at a time, and they serve as my daily reference point as to what I am following, current interests and ongoing investigations. All that needs to be rebuilt. All my web site visit history is gone too, so must find all these sites anew, as they weren't bookmarked. (Because the tabs served as bookmarks in effect). More recovery work.

Then the loaded software, not much thankfully, needs to be found online and loaded too. And why isn't all this backed up? Why, the backup hardware is also out for repair to get it working properly, along with the main PC. Today's visit to the computer repair guy indicates that he cannot get the backup device to update its software. And what is so fucking important to the perps they need to constantly sabotage my backup strategy, devices and function for over 14 years? When the main PC gets back I will finally have a RAID-ed hard drive, though not truly a back up. Imagine, harassing the living shit out of someone for 14 years, and as apart of it, they won't let the victim back up his data even now. And we know who can make data go poof between Cut and Paste or any other way possible including basic file disappearance.

At least 30 screamings tonight at the assholes tonight; the adversities of getting this here PC under control again is one, not to mention the myriad typos and characters that erupt on screen by themselves, no physical keystroke needed. Then the forced "forgets"; at least 3x forgets on putting a pot lid on the dinner that was heating up on the burner. 

Then the idiocies of Win 10; they even had some decent features on Win 7 that just plain got deleted, like last apps used. Not to mention decoding the "This PC" nonsense, as well as Libraries and the directory renaming games. For the record, I just want ONE single directory (folder) for Documents, Downloads, Music, Pictures etc. and then the file permissions can be managed for who sees what. (But as I am the only user, that doesn't matter a whole lot). I just don't want to go looking all over the place for all the music, especially whenever I get this thing backed up on an external device, per above. But as MS and the Win gang have decided to break up all these by user, and insert the user folder name, I countermand this stupidity by creating a single Music folder under the C; drive, and it all lives there.

Yoga; and an unusual yoga-stalk configuration of yogis. Three other males and two females, plus me as the only yogis. It is Most unusual that the males outnumber the females, and that they put three of them on me tonight. Then when I got back to my place, the ever curious back lane house, a seeming perp station was having another dude-fest/party. They of the previous lane blocking pick-up trucks, all jacked up of course, and the HD motorcycles that now pummel me with their infernal noise from time to time. Long gone are the days when a late model Mercedes sat there undriven for 12 months on end, save the odd time it was re-positioned in the opposite direction. Said dudes seem to need to party when I get back from yoga on Monday evenings, about 1830h. Go figure, as this is at least the third time in two months or less.

More shoot thinning in the vineyard, plus irrigation duties as well. Getting a face full of water from the drip line is all part of the perps' planned experience in water contact. Then bring on a light rain shower for 20 minutes or so, sampling water from the sky as a follow-on test.

More computer games, as in the orchestrated manipulative sense: I finally got my main PC back after 4.5 months in the shop for a RAID drive pair to be installed. Windows 10 was added to the list. I got the service and parts (two hard drives) for free as the proprietor was making it up to me. He couldn't get the Synology box to get updates online, as it is supposed to do, so who knows if I can persevere and get this done, or park the f***g thing and get a D-Link instead. 

The PC back up follies continue. Eventually I will get the main PC up and running as it has all my documents and resumes. So... two PC's back from their respective shops in two days, both with Windows 10 upgrades. Which leaves me wondering what on earth I will do with this alternate PC when the main PC is running again. 

I got "domestic" tonight and made a big orange colored soup up, a near weekly ritual, so the main PC will sit until tomorrow. (Which is Friday, and just might be when I find all kinds of things missing and other problems, and the repair guy won't be there until Monday). Who knows, as the FUD imperative is so important to the perps. (FUD = Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt, said to be the IBM credo for their sales staff to interact with their customers).

A full day of shoot thinning in the vineyard today, no diversions from irrigation zone testing. It looks like we might finish tomorrow, Friday. The productivity imperative is ever present at this particular vineyard, even for jobs that have never been attempted before, e.g. evaluation of bottles in the flipped truck episode of three weeks ago.

All day HD motorcycle noise, and other emulations while working in the vineyard. These big hopped up pickup trucks with loud mufflers are doing their best to make noise, including accelerating to pass other vehicle doing more than the speed limit. (Single lane traffic no less). Then to add more noise variety, they put in a infernal trail bike (noise) every so often. Then when I get back to my residence, why, the back lane neighbor and his newly adopted HD erupt for more motorcycle noise, often when opening the gate or door. Funny how that "happens".

For the first time ever, I got an order from Amazon which was totally wrong; I never ordered this particular book, so yet another Fuckup to sort out. It "happened to be "The Bridges of Madison County". And lo, two days later I meet up with a woman named Madison at a Saturday vineyard job.

At least 20 screamings at the assholes tonight; garbage night is a big thing, and so they mind-fucked me into forgetting 3x that there was more garbage to put out. Ergo, two extra trips to the curb to add more to the recycle and the refuse. The assholes also cut my finger while attending to the recycle garbage; I had a 4' long cardboard tube to saw up, and lo, if the saw didn't hop out of the saw cut and slash my finger for a 3/4" cut while handling the garbage. 

And I get to mess with my employer's garbage tomorrow morning, and no less, hike it all down the hill some 100m. (Usually I have the pick up truck available to take it down to the driveway). Then the perps would not let the PC recover from its standby state so I had to shut it down and restart it, and in the process , scream at them for invoking this new found dysfunctionality. And what is the matter with the perps tonight? They are totally on the rag. And I cannot handle it any more. I am sick fed up of being sick fed up.

Friday, and no major bad luck until I got the main PC set up. No Firefox bookmarks retained in my Win 10 install. Like WTF; I expressly asked the PC repair guy to retain them and my history and tabs, and all is gone I have over 50,00 bookmarks, and it is my filing system for everything. I expressly requested that my Firefox Bookmarks be preserved. I cannot understand why two different PC repair guys cannot update to Win 10 responsibly. That is, upgrade the applications too (all of them) and all their files; what a simple concept and yet neither did it.  Why am I at the butt end of such blithering ineptitude, (or else belligerence) from two different PC repair guys? That takes coordination IMHO.

The perps have a history of wiping out bookmarks; during the intense abuse onset of 04-2002 my PC got taken down and no bookmarks were ever recovered. And too, they liked to noisestalk me at work when bookmarking web sites. 

More screaming at the assholes tonight over my second PC Win 10 upgrade this week. One is enough, but as I got fucked into a second PC, and then a disk failure, a second Win 10 upgrade. 

And back to the piss poor mouse that came with the second PC, duly exploited by the perps of course. I went out to see if I could get a Trackball tonight, but no luck. And I find out that the only mouse I like, a wired Trackball is now over $300 because they don't make them any more. Am I pissed or what? Should I dare go the KVM switch route, having a centralized Keyboard, Video, Mouse for two PC's? I had this set up back in 2004 or so but they sacked it in short order, and had me down to a single PC.  And here we are some 12 years later, now orchestrated with two PCs, and they just might pull this shit again for whatever reason.

I got a replacement watch, as the perps took out mine last week, "losing" it in the vineyard.

A day long that infernal HD motorcycle noise passing by the vineyard, and to no surprise, the back lane perp/yobo station has erupted in HD noise. Two of them come and go there now, and tonight's timing was right out of the perp handbook. Start the HD noise just as the victim is settling into some decent music on his stereo. I turned it off. Thanks a bunch assholes.

Saturday, and a job at a different vineyard, with Madison in charge, see above. Cute, funny and spunky she was. And even someone to converse with, another rarity.

A high overcast cloudy day, warm and some sun getting through for some tanning. (I get to wear my short shorts at other vineyards, and therefore more leg tanning is to be had). So not a full unabated tanning like I was hoping for, but as the perps just love to dick with sun exposure intensity, and this is only May, why am I not surprised?

Laundry tonight, and the winsome high school student was there again. It appeared that she was a friend of the owner's daughter and was hanging out there too. But last week she was there by herself, working no less, and gave me change for my bills. I asked her about her leg injury as she had a cast on it, (unusually brave of me to do such), and she said she was recovering from brain surgery. And she said that when she was first recovering she was in a wheelchair. Hmm, how many times do I need to hear or see that perp theme? Anyhow, I wished her a speedy and complete recovery. Though it seems she as a way to go, as her left hand isn't that active and her saliva control was impaired. Poor thing. Which begs the bigger question as to why the perps put her on pose patrol/stalk; so I can admire her figure and looks or because of her recovering brain surgery (and whatever comparative brain energy research they can get from this)?  The answer is I don't know, and don't want to know.

the watch I bought would not allow the minutes to be updated; hours, day of week, month etc. but not the minutes. So I took it back, and the very large male saless satff member concurred. And while he was farting around with it, the shiftless male stalk show erupted, doing their usual malingering faux shopping. Eventually a woman sales staff member came by, and concurred. She then messed with the alarm setting and got the minutes setting to work, and lo, if that didn't somehow translate into getting the minutes of the time setting to work  too. And no other models to exchange with either. So after two of the sales staff handling the watch to attempt to get it working, some 15 minutes worth, and the parade of male Fuckwit Stalkers coursing by, I got to keep said watch and finally wear it. And so it goes, another of my objects gets touched, or "mauled" as I term it, by another party. This time, it was taken home and I messed with some 10x over two days, and took it back to the store I purchased it from.

But at the perps have a long history of sabotaging my watches, going back to the intense harassment days of 04-2002, why am I not surprised? They sabotaged the steel mesh strap model I had within a week or so, and so I purchased a similar model. Then they sabotaged it within a week and so I gave up on steel mesh strapped watches. since then, it has been digital sports watches with rubber straps and this is at least the fourth since then.

And endless vexation over attempting to get these two PC's to talk to each other over the home network. And too, getting files consolidated in one place, to recover from this 4.5 month alternate PC. . I had to resort to . I resorted to USB drives to transfer, no doubt serving the perp greater good in all their fanatic interest in where my files come from and all the differing physical means in transferring them; networks, USB drives, DVD's etc. All in keeping with their intense need to itemize and research the epsistemology of information and data, even if music and picture files. Recent readings about alien abduction experiences also demonstrate similar interests of the ET kind, though I believe it all goes back to the same source/imperative.

Enough postulating, and to get this posted.