Sunday, June 12, 2016

From Vineyard to Warehouse

Lots of sixes in today's date; don't know what that means in perp terms, save that they just love repetition and alliteration. Not my problem.

Busy on this very hot day, 37C, as it was plenty warm even at 0800h when I was busy weeding, cutting weed trees and spraying them at the roadside on a steep bank. Then onto hauling wine cases, and then to the concrete enclosed warehouse at 1030h to make up a complex shipping order. Then onto making up cardboard boxes for another shipping tomorrow. My work confrere joined me for the latter task, and we got most of it done at 1600h.

Then onto yoga for only four other yogis, all female. Typically I get 10 or more other yogis to accompany me, but for some reason a dearth. Or perhaps, yogi-stalkers. I still get screwed doing balances, but not as bad as I used to for some reason. Only four years of 1x/week yoga and I am now finally allowed to balance better on one foot.

A day of working in the warehouse and packing wine for shipments. Four others, one being a hire just for the day, this dude with tattoos around his neck for crissakes. The other guy is my regular co-worker, he of tattoos on his forearms. Enough tattoo exposure for a week, but the perps weren't done. Not in this town on a sunny day when the dudes with no shirts are strutting out with tattoos of course. And one sit-down dude on my way back was full of tats down his arm. Fucking disgusting; and if I don't like tattoos, I don't see why I must be hounded with this self-inflicted body defacing artifice everywhere I go. I suppose the single tattoo on the above mentioned yoga instructor's foot yesterday was a warm-up cookie.

An early end to the day, and then to the urologists office for the result of my prostate biopsy. I had a notion that the assholes would pull something, and the extra vehicular gangstalking and clusterfucking on the way there was another tip-off. And lo, I have a moderate level of prostate cancer, a 7 (4+3) on this scale they use. I am beyond the urologist's "surveillance" protocol, (meaning monitoring it), and so a CT scan and a bone density scan to follow before he decides what to do. No symptoms would be expected for five years if left untreated. Screwed and screwed again; give me the cancer and get me out of this infernal abusive existence ASAP. No such "luck" in TI World where victim infuriation and sufferance escalation are the key elements to running (subjugating) the subject (victim).

Then a blood test to follow, and I see now they are putting on the dudes to do the blood draw and have the blonde woman stand nearby, or cruise by in front. Worse, he was curly haired, and do I ever loathe the sight of curly hair for some unfathomable reason.

And more semi-bizarre activity in the blood draw clinic on this momentous occasion; they had a trades man Fuckwit doing measurements with his yellow measuring tape all the time while I was there. Also, his ladder was parked outside the door. Presumably this is for some kind of imminent office renovation, but as the perps constantly noise-stalk me over making measurements of anything, I cannot assume it was anything but another perp stunt.

And above news was sprung on me on my daughter's birthday, she duly phoning just as I was departing the blood draw clinic. As it was a cell phone and reception is usually limited in elevators, I took the call outside the clinic and sat on the bench outside the clinic. And of course they had me blab all about my biopsy results, which will duly find its way to the First Feral Family. They have legit means to find out, and seem to work it together, one borrowing (or was supplied) information from the other. Even if I haven't spoken with my daughter since 01-2016. Funny how that happens.

A three hour nap attack this evening; I haven't had one for a while, but as the evening tiredness imposition seems to become more frequent, one can expect a longer sleep hit.

And the assholes almost ran me off the road after work, an "inattention" jerkaround.

Worked on a steep roadside bank for two hours taking out the sumac foliage, both mechanically and with some roundup applied to cuts on the stub. Or else I pulled the root system out. And of course the vehicular traffic and noise was increased. And what is it about dudes and their pickup trucks needing to have extra noisy mufflers nowadays, and of course, tromp on the accelerator to make even more noise as they pass by?

Then onto landscaping duties later, then pallet load assembly, and then garbage detail. I even got to run the forklift to make the latter task a whole lot easier. I am a certified fork lift operator, but my employer discourages such activity with excuses du jour. But the reality is: do I spend 20 minutes getting 28 40lb boxes down from 10' up on a ladder, or spend 5 minutes to do the same with the fork lift? It seemed like a no-brainer with a straight-in run to get the pallet, lift the load, back up 6' and put it down. And thankfully it was uneventful.

I swapped back to my tricyclic medication today, dropping the L-tyrosine and L-phenylalanine, both contra-indicated. Hopefully with minimal effect, though the perps have a long history of exploiting medication changes.

The assholes had me "forget" to take my tricyclic medication today, they of the insane fuckery over what color my pills and supplements are. No ill effects.

Though the assholes are hitting me with tiredness at day's end, good for a 30 min. sit down of doing squat. I suppose all this serves some purpose, but I don't know what, or how it will be sanitized under a conventional clinical cause.

And lo, the "good doctor" (mostly) has indicated that I not continue with my DHEA and testosterone in light of above prostate cancer results (fuckery IMHO). That is because I emailed her, and she left a telephone message, and so I will go see her tomorrow in a sudden appointment. All of which infuriates me no fucking end. I take medications that are useful and make me feel a lot better, and then the perps construct some scene to take them away from me. They did this in 2002, as a certain stimulant medication was very successful, one that flushes out dopamine. While I cannot be sure of my blood dopamine levels at present as they have never been tested, I was feeling a whole lot better. (Low dopamine = low testosterone). And now the assholes are at it again; obstructing useful and highly efficacious medication. To say that I am less than infuriated would be in error.

At work, a 1.5 hour session of traffic control on the busy road while a load of bottles was delivered to the winery. And in the usual drum beat of getting ready, and I duly put out the stand for the sign and put the sign away in the bush. And lo, some 20 minutes later, the tractor-trailer arrives and I go to put up the sign, and someone stole the stand, but not the sign. Who but the perps would arrange something so utterly stupid in so short of time for something so critical? And who of the public has any use for a steel stand for a roadside sign stand for crissakes?

Rainy today, and the job at the other vineyard was called off. I was needed at the regular vineyard employer for a few hours and that is where I spent the morning. Dealing with garbage, bow making and then doing a small amount of vine planting. The perps cannot get enough of this latter activity, and this time was no exception.And of course, the major planting was next to the busy road, and of course the traffic noise was amped up just as I was inserting the plant into the hole. And too, this was near where I was doing traffic control in the middle of the road yesterday. And a day before that I was hacking roadside vegetation from the adjacent bank.

After that, the "good doctor" phoned and had some positive suggestions and provide an Rx over the above mentioned prostate cancer diagnosis, and seemed genuinely empathetic. "Together we can beat this" were her words, and we shall see. She confirmed the elimination of my testosterone intake, as prescribed, citing medico-legal reasons. There is no evidence of testosterone abetting prostate cancer, but 99% of doctors believe otherwise. Sounds like a planted mindfuck to me, which suggests that prostate cancer (and health) is governed by the sickos who create the problem in the first place. There seemed to be some forward movement on my iron deficiency from her, as the last visit in February seemed to be a blow-off on this topic. Another "we shall see" circumspection, but at least it is substantially forward looking than that technocrat urologist who said absolutely dick all about anything except biopsy results. I didn't think they made doctors like that any more, but I am told many of the foreigner doctors are the same. Around and around we go, without the "merry" part.

A 2.5 hour nap attack this afternoon; just when I thought I was going to get some things done in my unanticipated free time, why, someone else had plans for me.

More infuriation; the assholes have stopped me from playing music from files on my PC to my OPPO pre-amp to my stereo. This was set up perfectly some four weeks ago with help from OPPO support. I did not change a wire or setting or anything, and now digital music playback is fucked. What is it about the perps they must constantly fuck with music playback? It could be the reproduction quality all the way to obstructing the software or hardware. Now that I have speakers seems to up the ante. This insane shit over obstructing music playback goes  back to 2002 when they first went berserk/overt and even stopped a new Sony Discman from playing for crissakes. I got another one and it had problems too. A formerly reliable NAD CD player crapped out a year later, even defying the repair personnel. The YBA amp hassles have almost become legend of late. (Initially sent 12-2015, and now twice to Chicago for repair, and yet to come back). My brother stole my speakers from the crawl space for crissakes. Headphones are routinely hacked, and one pair has had two repair depot trips across the country (to Ontario). On and on, this sick assed obstruction over music playback continues, and it is relentless as it is senseless.

[Update; someone turned the volume down, the reason why I could not hear anything. Who would of done something so fucking stupid as that except to rile their victim some more?]

A decent weather day after yesterday's on-off rain. This being a Sunday, and working at a vineyard run by someone else who is lot more relaxing and harmonious. They even let me work shirtless, which I did for a time to get more tanned. Or, as one TI says, I was getting prana energy from the sun. At least I was getting more vitamin D.

More evening conversation with Do Not Post tonight.

I took my DHEA this morning and had no nap attack after work, though I did get sacked for 30 min. of sit down time. I wish I knew where this was going; are they taking me out or making the most out of a medication change up? Anyhow, time to post this for the week.

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