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 osnanaimo.org). 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.
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.