Sunday, July 03, 2016

Yogic Man Bun and His Mudded Vehicle

The yoga-stalk gets extra blog coverage on tis blog as it is on Monday, the first day of the week I start a new post. There was a visiting Man Bun, that is, a male wearing his long hair as a bun on his head, about the most ridiculous male hair style I have come to witness. A man bun is even more ridiculous than a 8" diameter afro IMHO of male hairstyles. But his real guise was revealed after class when he hung around to then lead me out into the parking lot where he got into his mud splattered vehicle. It has been long noted that the perps just love to put on mud splattered vehicles around me, and having a yogi arrive and then depart from such a perp prop takes the cake.

And if that strange male look wasn't enough, they put on another long haired dude in sloppy shorts to his kness with a do-rag to contain his hair. How ridiculous. Call me a fusty fart if you want, but all these strange male hairdos have been grist in the stalking retinue for a decade or longer, and now they are erupting in my yoga class. Nothing is sacred or free from perp invasion.

Earlier in the day I got messed around at work; I had a text message Sunday evening that I was to be doing winery work the next day, and dressed with shorts for the occasion. On Monday morning I get a text message that I was to be doing weed eating work, which pissed me off considerably as my bare legs get thrashed with flying gravel and other debris. So yet again, my preventive measures, for when I am allowed to recall them, get defeated my last minute fuckery.

The perps had me "forget" my testosterone injection last night, and just like supplements, it seems they like to experiment with delayed or forgone medication intake. Or perhaps, having me go off schedule for whatever reason, as they get a charge out that too; e.g. delaying buses, changing work start times etc.

And the perps decided to rub it in and use it as an excuse for making me feel fragile today for some reason.

Some 20 screamings at the assholes while making dinner, same for each of the last three evenings. Besides finger fumbling, picking up the wrong item, sending me to the wrong cupboard or drawer, etc. they like to flick food and liquids. I cannot count the number of strange hops and bounces that these items take in a given day. Food preparation is under heavy assault of late, which means they like to infuriate me all the more.

I worked two jobs today, the first one with lots of interuptions. Not only do interuptions serve the perps, but getting direction from different individuals seems to be part of the scope. Then onto my second job, replete with my vehicular gangstalker leading me on this obscure route from one vineyard to the next, where he "happened" to be going next door to my target destination. Not bad for being in the country, and I was vehicularly stalked going the opposite direction on the same road last week. Why am I not surprised?

I finished dishes etc at 2000h and was to head to the supermarket but the assholes blatantly re-directed me to bed for a one hour nap attack.Talk about thwarted will. And when at the supermarket, why, they were out of the very thing I wanted, cooked chicken. I had to settle for cold breaded chicken. And did I mention I avoid bread and gluten like the plague, and this was the only cooked chicken available. Thanks a bunch assholes.

The cute supermarket cashier "happened" to be passing through and crossing my path on my way in, and even gave me a "hello" in passing as I entered the store. To which I politely responded. (Some 99% of the time they ignore my entry into the store). Then there she was at the chicken counter too when I got skunked per above. I had my usual "repeat freaks", aka, gangstalkers in the store, and when finished at that nagging self checkout voice over, why, the cute one "happened" to be standing around and bid me farewell. Again, I returned with a polite reply and headed out the door.

And what is it about large waddling males in baggy shorts the perps so love to put on for me to see? Those big guts and fat legs are quite disgusting.

The Psychopaths foiled my intended music listening in the vineyard two days ago, Sunday. The Power Amp app couldn't find the files even if it could find all the albums, songs and artists no problem. It just wouldn't play music. The default Android music player app was a total piece of shit and had no visible means to select or unselect music. And why is it the perps continually sabotage music players, from Discmen, to CD players (of the past at least), to digital players, e.g. Android phones. And add on the relentless sabotage of headphones and I'm lucky if anything can play, outside of my home system. Add to that, my co-worker, constantly "forgets" to bring his portable speaker that plugs into his phone. It is totally fucking insane that I am not allowed to listen to music when and where I want.

Got my bone scan done today, driving to the bigger city. They inject radioactive technetium and then have wait three hours when it is taken up into one's bones. So three hours to kick around Kelowna, visiting my favorite used book store for used CD's and even two books. Both of which were biographies of males, Putin (The Man Without a Face) and Keith Richards (Life). The perps like me to read biographies for whatever reason, and keep me away from fiction as a rule. Though lately my reading is about prostate cancer, learning all I can as the urologist is such a pill, the information disclosure avoidant kind.

And interestingly, it takes two weeks for the technetium's radioactivity to subside to undetectable levels; one needs a letter from the hospital if one is to cross borders. Not that it is a concern, see below.

Friday, and a national holiday here, akin to July 4 in the US. A "double" long weekend if one flits between borders; Friday July 1 in Canada, and then Monday July 4 in USA. Not that I do cross borders, in good measure due to an unprovoked gun pulling event by the INS in 2002, the first year the perps went berserk/overt on me. Besides, I don't have whole lot of dough to go spendy on holidays anyhow.

A 3.5 hour nap attack this afternoon, though one of the rare times that it may have had some basis in real sleep demand. I was sleep deprived over the prior two days, and finished work an hour early as the rain came in on the vineyard. I put my head down at 1530h and got up at 1900h. Then an hour of recovering from this long nap when on my feet and then back to bed. No wonder so many things aren't getting done. I tried to make a list of these items and they shut me down after ten items when there was many more.

An early start to the day, working for the casual labor vineyard employer. Most strange crew make up today, though it is on the heels of Canada Day and on a long weekend to boot. At first only two other E. Indian workers, an older woman and a young one and the foreman. Both doing the shawls and the older woman with this large bill cap as well, a seeming favorite get up for the older female E. Indian women. We went into the wrong vineyard section at first, and the foreman didn't seem to need to enure that we started in the right place, he being preoccupied with something else. (As most of the direction is in Punjabi, I just follow them). This was through a trellis wire vineyard, the normal kind one sees in the dreamy PR photos that promote wine. Anyhow, at some point he figured it out and redirected us to the high density "post" vineyard, where a single vine grows next to a sturdy post and the vines are wrapped around it to contain the sprawl of canes As it turned out, this was quite different from the stalking perspective as there were no wires and anyone can freely cross rows or get into other's rows. This particular kind of vine training system seems to be experimental more than anything else, but the rows are only 4' wide.

At this point, the "four turbans" arrived, that is, male E. Indians, and they stayed with the crew for the rest of the day. About two hours later, another E. Indian arrived, the same one as last year who looks suspiciously like my brother; the same build and height and similar facial features though with much darkened skin and in a ball cap, jeans (instead of the pajama outfits) and clean shaven. I find it most odd that this particular individual needs to be inserted a few hours later than anyone else, and this has been his consistent arrival pattern. Yes, he speaks Punjabi, but in past perp operative stalking experience this is another mutable feature; having an operative Fuckwit speak another language or with an prominent accent is nothing new to me.

It was me and 7 Punjabis on this crew today, and not a big deal, and I am very used to being ignored as I am not one of them. Besides, apart from the foreman, none seem to speak much English. Welcome to farm work.

But, the perps pulled an asshole move; they sabotaged my vehicle by separating the exhaust head pipe from the rest of it so that the vehicle now makes this awful loud hoarse noise, not unlike the plethora of loud mufflered vehicles I get from vehicular gangstalking. It was the last thing I needed; not only the infernal noise but also the upcoming expense. And the perps decided to make it obvious, as when I pulled into park there was no noise. And when I relocated, why, the exhaust/no muffler noise erupted for the first time. In other words, unprovoked vehicle sabotage of no seeming origin.

Needless to say I was not amused that I had to drive 40 minutes back on the highway with this extra loud exhaust noise.

Sunday, and a rare day off for this vineyard worker. But I need it, if nothing else to normalize my sleep habits. No major vehicle outings, say, for a hike, as I cannot bear the noisy muffler. And on my one outing today for the "forgets" from yesterday, why, the vehicular gangstalk trains were in place and for my every turn. Go figure.

I cleaned up the bathroom of all the hairs that seem to be teleported, a good percentage (over 80%) are obviously not mine. For example, eye lashes that are much longer than mine and are all black. Like WTF; mine are brown with blonde tips, so where do these thicker, longer and all-black eyelashes come from? And believe me, there are no others, or more accurately, no women, venturing into my existence let alone visiting me. I am a pariah to say the least, and possibly among my own crowd, TI's to be specific.

Much reading on prostate cancer today, the latest and most invasive medical condition I have had to deal with. I keep getting the telepathic notion that "no invasive surgery or radiation is needed", but as the perps are liars as much as Psychopaths, I must dismiss this banter and carry on in a conventional way. That is, more doctors, more vexation, more futility, more weirdness and maybe a positive outcome. If cancer weren't such a protracted takedown of bodily function, i.e. bladder, bowels etc. in this case, I would tell them to bring it on, I have had enough. That was my perspective of the last two weeks, but now I am formulating a "survival" plan. The word "survival" is in quotes as I don't really have much say in the outcome, but running this here rat (me) through the imposed maze (aka, the human experience) is just too funny for the Psychopathic Imperative, (aka, nonconsensual human experimentation).

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Fun Similarity ... Orchard / Farm Maintenance for me.

mostly Solitary work thank goodness.

Mostly just Perp orchestrated Machinery failures.