Sunday, September 25, 2016

Rain Again

Monday, and one of varied duties as the main task of irrigation modification wasn't technically doable. I got to do weed pulling, then grape sampling with the boss lady at different vineyards, and then back to the weed pulling. By then the rain was coming down and so the activities for the rest of the day were cancelled.

That left me time to get onto my brake rotor installation, which begat a 45min. kick-around time. Ergo, do what I did before; walk two blocks to the tanning studio. Even if is September, the amount of tanning I got this summer was minimal. And given the perp intensity of managing my sun exposure, clothed or unclothed, it surely was not a coincidence.

And what is with the succession of freaks today while on my walkabout time while the brake rotors were installed? At the automotive shop a grinning idiot, then at the specialty grocery store a mawkish over made-up cashier, then at the tanning salon an over-browned Caucasian woman with matching dyed brown hair, and then a few more walk-by freaks. A $208 hit for the brake rotors that NEVER should of happened, as I never had any problem with 8 month old rotors before. A full on vehicular parade to accompany my route home with new brake rotors. Then a motorcycle from the back lane "needed" to circle the block back to the back lane perp station to "greet" me and my new brake rotors.

And to add to the idiocy, the across-the-lane perp station (IMHO) had a major boom truck arrive and park in mid lane to then hoist some kind of welding rig from a pickup truck onto something else.

Yoga at 1715h, now getting de-tuned with less challenging poses from a new instructor and now 15 minutes shorter. Only three yogis tonight, a far cry from the 12-16 that would regularly attend. What do they know that I don't? Maybe it is time to move to a new yoga studio; that is the planted drift I am getting anyhow.

Mostly picking grapes at a supplying vineyard today. Then I got to "follow the grapes"; go back to my regular employer vineyard/winery where the bins of picked grapes were stacked, with some in the crusher, some now juice going through pumps, and the spent skins and stems in another bin. Call it high grape conversion coordination.

The boss man from the winery "happened" to visit the picking twice for whatever reason. The picking crew was OK, and I even knew a few from other vineyards last year. But what was with the six scruffy Quebequois dweebes loitering around my vehicle at lunch time, and then appearing in the vineyard then too? They weren't part of the picking crew so what were they doing there? There is  no question the perps love to plant "scruffians" around me, and especially those from Quebec at select times. I don't have any personal angst over Quebequois, but scruffians and like freaks don't make my day anywhere no matter where they hail from.

There is an English-French angle to all this harassment, the quintessential city being Montreal, PQ, in Canada. And lo, if they didn't have me live there for two of the three lost years, aged 2 to 5 y.o.,  for which the perps seemed to wipe 90% of my recall.  What they did to me then and where elsewhere is still a mystery, though the daily freak show, aka, the Unfavored parade (e.g. per above), seems to be a supporting component to elicit subconscious traumatization reactions (abreactions). This would comprise of the Unfavored features, though of late males (especially with fugly shorts), bald heads, red colors, freaks, obesers with over-sized guts and asses seem to be popular stalking themes or props.

I was packing wine cases in the garage in the afternoon, handling brown cardboard boxes next to a metallic maroon red vehicle. And if there is one single vehicle color theme after black, white and silver grey, it is metallic maroon red. Hardly a coincidence.

To the laundromat in the evening to rid myself of sticky clothes from picking. And what is it about retrieving laundry from the washing machine that they must send in their shills and stalkers? Twice in two visits, plus another on the "pre-stalk"; happening to be standing there mindlessly in front of the washing machine I needed to get to. Said fucker was outside when I exited, standing dumbstruck in the parking lot access where I was to drive over shortly.

The last day of summer technically, though in terms of air temperature it was at least three weeks ago. A cool fall, 20C, compared to the last 4 years when I could count on getting tanned until mid-October.

Another day of packing wine cases with coworkers at the warehouse. All went well and we finished in good time. Same deal as before; the number of times they got in my way, were leaning over what I needed to get to, head dipping while I was head down, or "butt ending", (butts facing each other), and other close-in action. And it seemed that they took turns, with the most Unfavored cat taking his turns at the end of the show.

I took my lunch at 1330h, and was sitting on a 2' high pallet stack while doing so. Another fellow was there waiting for a delivery truck, and we conversed about past trades, experiences etc. And too, this no doubt served the perps' obsession over pallets (of all materials and sizes) and keeping them around me, having me walk on them, build an order of 56 wine cases on them and all other general contact or activity with them.

The off to the garbage recycling dump to dispose of cardboard and overwrap. One other person there oddly, as they usually like to cluster fuck me there. Said Fuckwit was parked where I wanted to go, but left to go to the other end of the recycling. I thought I was out of his visage range as we were some 100' apart, but no, the Fuckwit in his fugly shorts needed to walk up and enter my peripherial vision to get my attention and then turned around and departed. And what was the purpose of that, except to get my attention with male features, highly Unfavored if over 20 y.o.

More rain, nearly all day while I was lifting nets and then helping a crew landscape planting. In the latter case, some 80 plants arrived for planting, grasses mainly, and then they worked through the placement while I was lifting nets in the adjacent vineyard. After lunch, already wet like everyone else, I was re-directed to help the landscape crew dig planting holes and then once done, help them plant. It got muddy at times, but thankfully it wasn't cold or windy. The perps go silly over me when I plant plants, though to be fair, where wasn't any overt in-my-face get close stalking action. The featured freak seemed to be the focus, a Bob-Job (male with bobbed hair-do) who had his bob projecting from the rear of his ball cap. Not that I care for ball caps either, another favorite perp prop, but as they are ubiquitous now, I rarely register them as Unfavored anymore. Said freak was from New Zealand, and turned out to be an OK guy. Why he had to wear sunglasses on a wet day is beyond me, save perp imposed inanity.

A whole Saturday off, pleasantly welcomed as I will be working some tomorrow. As "usual", that is, the imposed usual, the assholes had me "forget" something off my list. That being the acquisition of a 8' carpet runner to cover the region I trek mostly on, from doorway to kitchen over an intervening carpeted region. Why all this wasn't done in continuous linoleum like the kitchen and entry way doesn't make any sense to me, but I don't design these things. All the flooring got re-done just before I moved in. Another perp pre-occupation is floor coverings.

I got my vehicle washed and waxed today, a twice yearly endeavor the perps seem to like me to perform. (Believe me for this gig, all good habits never go unpunished). They backed off on the red suds for the foam brush, white this time. Then a drive on the highway for 15 minutes to dry it off, and then back to my place to begin waxing. As part of it, applying RainX to the windsheild seems to be perp-important. A great product that is a god send in the rain.

And the rain came on today to ensure the grape picking was cancelled after getting up at 0600h and hanging in my work clothes for a later pick which did not materialize.

Then a visit to the vinyl record event to meet up with the hif-fi salesman who sold my once expensive  amplifier. (Somehow I could not get it sold online). It turned out it was in cash, brown colored 100's in fact, and I rarely carry those with me. It was in an envelope and never placed in my wallet. Anyhow, once deposited at the ATM the swarm was on, and that included the vehicular trains and clusterfucks.

Then the rain abated and it got warm, so a late (1230h) start to hiking, but I did, as I don't know if I will get any more in this season. Same deal as last week; a tailing party ahead and behind. In the latter case the party split into three with two Fuckwits running ahead, one being thif fat 6 y.o. who ran-plodded like he never ran before. All the worse that he had red shoes on, and that twice previously he stood at the trail side to let me pass.  Then for some inexplicable reason he gets the running notion and speeds ahead. Then with this split party, their dog runs back and forth between the sub-parties, and of course past me at least 20x. Brownstalking and dog stalking both at once. Then a cluster fuck and stake out at the organics store at the trails end, similar to last week too. And this elder stalker in mustard yellow pants pacing around and coming at me to get over top of where I was standing. Anyhow, most odd as they have left me alone for hiking this same trail all summer,  and now they lay on the stalking.

Enough said for the week; I start a new winery job tomorrow and we shall see how that goes for the next 8 weeks.

Sunday, September 18, 2016

Employment FUD

Tuesday, and the day-to-day pondering as to my employment status. Vineyard work is done now and I am kept on odd tasks, though some last a whole day. It is most strange the boss lady doesn't say anything. She doesn't even direct me much either, as the boss man has things for me to do, now that winemaking has begun.

Then future employment prospects got the royal FUD treatment; the hiring winemaker is splitting to work at another winery and three guys from France are coming to replace him. All the hiring winemaker has to do is not mention anything about me to his replacement crew, and I am replaced too. Bizarre IMHO.

And what is it about splattering food and beverages (in the kitchen mostly) that is so important to the perps? This insane fuckery goes on every meal preparation, but of late it has been getting to be a big hassle with me getting rage-ified in the extreme. Once one mess is cleaned up, they plant another. Even drawing the dishes cleaning brush from L to R somehow erupts in dish water splatter flying the opposite direction, time after time. What is the matter with the juvenile nightmare gang that they must harass the living shit out of me for over 14 years now? Over this ridiculous event, food flicking?

The pissing games (urination urgency) have come back by dint of some kind of fuckery. That is, urination urgency, though not at bad as it was Dec. 2015 to Mar. 2016. Back a few months ago I could go from morning to mid-afternoon before needing a piss. My piss count of late for that duration is now five. Thanks a bunch assholes; just when I get one problem nailed down they go and re-create the hassle.

A group of six of us in the warehouse for most of the day, packing wine cases. A whole lot of brown boxes to say the least, containing either red, or white wine, or else made-up combinations. Based on past such events, there is plenty of near contact; butts, heads dipping, hands projecting in front of me, etc., all in the cause of expeditiously packing wine. Too, the cling (shrink) wrapping of the pallet loads is always a big deal, though this time they did not leave it all up to me. Another fellow helped out, and it was all for the good as it smoothed out the way things got done. Anyhow, all good company and we got lots more done than planned.

What a fuck of a day...

An arranged (as of late yesterday) late work start of 1030h to start the shit show. I was to start at 0800h and had arranged a wheel alignment at the nearby Toyota dealership. I was there at 0800h and sat there at the customer waiting area at the Toyota dealership for an hour, expecting the job to be done. But no,they had part seizure problems. They could of told  me this 20 minutes into  the job instead of arranging this ambulatory gangstalking parade around me all that time. And the coughing and hacking that went on too, one would of  thought it was winter. Strangely, only two other parties were waiting there while I was there for an hour, each lasted about 5 or 10 minutes. A fat woman and her husband, and later, a single dude seemed to need to sit down for five minutes, and I thought his act was most strange; probably an operative.

Then what to do? They dithered me into indecision for five minutes and I decided to get the vehicle wheel alignment done, and decided to take off than to submit to more gangstalking. On the way I was forced to purchase a 100g chocolate bar I didn't need at  the nearby LD sore, and eat while walking with the noisy traffic coursing around me.

After 35 minutes of in-town walking back to my residence the assholes then plant the notion that I didn't  have my house keys. Ergo, no lunch after a 35 min walk in the 30C heat. Outside was my briefcase in its soak in isopropanol alcohol for three days in the 1.5 year long quest to remove the mold smell the assholes laid on when they molded this place two years ago. Why the assholes had me walk across town to remove it, dump the yellow mold ridden alcohol  on the ground, and then walk back across town again seems as perverse as it gets (the planted rationale is that it could dry out in the sunny weather).

I "happened" to meet my old landlady one block away while walking back; exchanged pleasantries etc and caught up on things since I last stayed there in 2012 -not part of the things-gone-wrong fuckery to say the least, but another interesting "coincidence" all the same.

Then to work at 1030h at the warehouse, no access as the door was locked. I checked the other side of the large building, it was locked too. Back to the first entry, email the boss who knows the phone number of the workers inside (one being her son) and lo, i was let in. And as it turns out, the group work of packing of yesterday wasn't continuing and so I get to make up two pallet orders.

One of the two workers, son of the owner, piles 20lb of flattened cardboard box bundles on my coat with my phone in it, fortunately it survived OK. Later the kid copy-cats me on "lunch" (left over trail mix) by sitting down exactly where I had sat down for lunch and eating the same trail mix), and then is about to lean on my coat and phone again until I advise him of the precarious nature (but not that he put the aforementioned cardboard boxes on my coat and phone). I nearly finish the second pallet order build, some 56 cases, and put on the last case and the kid bursts into a cough attack. Like WTF; why is it I get constantly stalked and noise-stalked every time I complete something?

We finish early at 1315h and they give me a lift back to Toyota to get my keys, if not vehicle, but thankfully it is repaired. "Only" $80 extra over and above a wheel alignment cost for their extra "difficulty". And then with some free time I got onto loose ends; launder the briefcase, get the BSOD prone PC #1 to the repair guy. No doubt that will be at least a week of down time; hopefully not months like time, from December 2015 to March 2016.

Then onto the automotive repair outfit that did my brake job in January, as the vehicle vibrates on braking, confirmed by the Toyota dealership when they did a test drive. Said outfit said that brake rotors have only a 60 day warranty but we can "help you out" on a new set. Like WTF: I have never had new rotors "fail" (go out of true) inside of 8 months of installation. (I have been through many pairs of rotors over the last 40 years of car ownership). I made it clear I wanted a good set and not be back inside of six months. (I have been long stiffed with minimum spec car parts and don't go there if I get a choice  in selecting parts myself). While waiting in the customer sitting area for the mechanics to put the car on the hoist to get a measurement off the brake rotors, (odd IMHO) a bizarre vignette unfolds. (It was odd as I later discovered when doing online brake parts surfing; all he had to ask me was is it a 4 or 6 cylinder model, assuming he didn't already know). Bizarrely, the woman in the back office took a tape measure, the typical carpenters' flexible yellow steel kind, and proceeded to measure herself around her hips while standing next to her desk. After a few minutes of messing with this endeavor she proceeded to measure her bust. All the while I shot unseen glances to determine if she was playing with a full deck. Then she "happened" to notice me momentarily casting a glimpse at her bust measuring spectacle and she saw me looking and only then decided it might be a bit embarrassing and then moved away from the open door way and presumably finished measuring her bust out of my view. Eventually she resumed sitting at her desk. How utterly bizarre, and such has a propensity to erupt around me all the time. Interesting that the measuring component was added into this totally unnecessary 20 min. wait at the auto repair shop. This auto shop was NOT one I was going to return to as they blew me off about initiating a Pirelli tire warranty claim back in July, claiming they didn't belong to the Big O tire chain since July 01. I must of dropped over $2k in repairs on them in the last two years. So here I got screwed into going back to this shop I didn't want to return to all over these shit brake rotors, or else the perps jacked with them to force me back and of course, to cough up more money. And what is it about tires and brakes and brake rotors the perps just must sabotage, now in its third iteration in 2016? Or four iterations if you count the prior wheel alignment today, though not technically brake or tire related.

I get back to my place, and sit down to read "The Secret Team" and then I get hit with a nap attack for an hour. Then dinner with all kinds of perp interference; finger fumbling, food flicking, mind dithering.  They especially go nuts on me when transferring food from one plate or vessel to another, and all  the more so when I about to take  my dinner (completed dish) to the table.

Then I got ambitious about measuring and marking to install for L brackets to support this shelf that is to be installed, a 4 month delayed project, shelf still to come.

Then a new garbage routine; I take my garbage 80' down the lane, empty it into the landlord's garbage can and return my empty one. The insane litany of fuckery over refuse and recyclable garbage is  unrelenting.

Doing vehicle jockey work for the owners this morning; both their vehicles needed oil changes so I ran the truck down to the Ford dealership and waited 10 minutes for a ride with a coworker. Then back to deal with the regular garbage duties, and then I took the owners' SUV to the Honda dealership where I waited in the customer area for an hour until it was done. I suppose they wanted me to have more face time with a deep brown skinned person, as he was my service rep. He wasn't negro, and didn't speak like a E. Indian, and in fact, spoke impeccable English. Anyhow, all was civil, polite and copesthetic and I drove the vehicle back to the work site. So...that is four automotive shop customer waiting area seatings in two days. It cannot be a coincidence, though I have no idea as to why the perps like to arrange such events apart from their obsession over seat swapping. That is, have me seated, and later, someone else presumably sits down next to, or in, my seat in my absence. Much like the public transit games that went on ad infinitum in Victoria when living there, 2002 to 2011.

A fork lift certification course for the most part today. A two hour classroom and a test, and lo, if my upright pack on the floor wasn't flooded with water from my steel water bottle. Like WTF; nearly all of the one liter of water was on the floor, the cap was sealed fine, and the bottle was upright and SOMEHOW all this water was in a puddle on the floor with my pack in the middle of it. And we know who likes to dick with water in all its sources don't we? Add in the arranged weather of it lightly raining all morning and while the six students, including me, did their forklift driving test in this weather. And too, the 4" drainpipes from the building's roof also ejected their rainwater contents where we were standing while each student was operating the forklift.

Anyhow, all went well and I even scored some extra time for tricky driving when the pallet, and forklift, is next to a wall. A shipping container served the purpose and I got extra instruction on this particular situation that the perps seem to like to dither me over since I began my very limited fork lift driving over a two years ago.

And of course, it was all about seat swapping too; one student, then another, and then sometimes alternating to use the one forklift in succession.

A nap-attack fake-out later in the afternoon, not getting to sleep at all once lying down. This followed reading "The Secret Team", a detailed treatise on the rogue CIA. All the more rouge when one considers that it was never in their mandate to have an operational arm. That is, not to have weapons, military materiel, military divisions, undertake foreign meddling, and the rest of it. I haven't got anywhere near their LSD research, support of brain trashing psychiatrists, namely Dr. Ewen Cameron, or their notorious and significant SE Asian drug importation. Never mind that the CIA disrupted the largely agrarian population in advance and then fomented the Vietnam War and then managed to hand it over to the US military once war escalation was imminent. Then in another book of Prouty's, he details the CIA involvement in the assassination of JFK.

Onto laundry in the afternoon amidst colossal vehicular gangstalking. Trains of vehicles at every uncontrolled crossing/turn I made.

The back to the auto shop, in person because they were to phone me yesterday and didn't, and then they also changed their phone number so I could not get through to find out if they ordered the above mentioned brake rotors. These are to replace the ones that mysteriously (IMHO) ran out of true since installation in 01-2016. And what is it about ripping me off that is so important for the perps? Last night I see on Amazon that I can get these brake rotors for $35 each, same make and model. But of course the rotors were already delivered to the shop, who when I asked, told me they could "honor" the $65 price I paid before. Not only did the perps sabotage my 9 month old brake rotors, they then force me back to this shop that pissed me off over the tire warranty I was seeking in July, (per above, and for which I swore I would never go back there again), and finally to add insult to injury, they then rip me off over the price of new rotors.

And the brake rotor problem following on the heels of getting the (warranty) tires installed last weekend, a follow-on wheel alignment, and can we say, "yet another fine coincidence"?

More afternoon time to get laundry done, with more "customers" that strangely need to close in on me at every turn, and when done, I read more of "The Secret Team". This time a real nap attack some 10 minutes into reading the book, getting hit for 1.5 hours before getting up at 1815h. And why do they need to constantly hit me with nap attacks over this book? It is all about their imperative over information epistemology [ih-pis-tuh-mol-uh-jee] -noun 1. a branch of philosophy that investigates the origin, nature, methods, and limits of human knowledge].  And too, why they need to arrange these senseless massacres at schools and universities all over the world.

I will be so glad to finish reading "The Secret Team" book for all the nap attack interference I am  getting every time I read it. Nothing related to the contents I hasten to add. Then I can get back to reading about cancer, another "gift" from the perps this year.

Sunday, and I didn't pursue any weekend work today. The weather was tolerably hikable. The usual delays in getting going, and then on the road finally. No regular trip though; a mule deer ran across the road in front of me, threading itself in front of a motorhome from the opposite direction and across the entire road. I slammed on the brakes and narrowly averted a major mess, and repair bill. The new Pirellis served me well.

At least 20 parties on this regular hike, most unusual as they left me alone for the most part this summer. An hour of top-only tanning as they screwed me out of wearing my shorts due to weather uncertainty before I set off. They also had me doze off while tanning. When it came time to go two parties arrived either side of me, each some 100' away. I thought it was opportune to then depart, and lo, another party "happened" to start ahead of me, and  lo, a second party behind me. Like WTF; I never had this much attention at McIntyre Bluff all this year until now. I eventually got ahead of the party ahead of me, they pretending to be surprised I came up from behind. All the more to see the waddling male in shorts ahead of me I suppose, a long running perp planted motif. I stopped at the farm store for groceries and got to the parking lot, and lo, if these same trail stalking parties didn't both arrive there too. One proceeded me and one tailed me out, now in vehicles.

Anyhow, enough on the travails of another week, and onto posting this.

Sunday, September 11, 2016

Windows 10 Crashes

An hour's nap attack tonight and an hour later I still feel like shit. And as usual, I did not need the sleep as I was not running a deficit. Just normal fuckery.

On the abnormal fuckery slate is Windows 10 and its crashing, CRITICAL_PROCESS_DIED. Like WTF; here we are into over 25 years of of this Windows OS, and all I get is some lame-assed message with a blue screen and this message. There has to be some 20+ critical OS processes running simultaneously and here is this utterly innocuous vague-ism which is meant to "explain" it. Has not MS grown up since DOS in terms of elucidating their error specificity? And of course the music player went down then too. No wonder one cannot find a decent player that is PC-free, though it needs to be connected to get the files. That is, an affordable and reliable one. Not this high end stuff over $10k.

Another piss-off, while on the topic of Windows 10, is the periodic message on the R side telling me to "Tap" something. Like WTF; I have been a keyboard hack for over 40 years and they slip this totally inappropriate nonsense on me. All the worse is the reference to that ever-klutz prone interface called the touch screen, made worse when confined to a so-called smart phone. Give me a break; I don't come to the PC to get smart phone interface interference traumatization re-invoked.

Back to the above mentioned Win 10 OS crash. The timing of tonight's crash was absolutely straight from the perps' play book. As I was about to enter my credit card data on my checkout process for my vitamins, now ever more essential due to their invoked prostate cancer stunt that began June 07 this year, 2016. And have I not roundly and loudly complained about financial transaction stalking, harassment and other fuckery, now totally consistent over some 14 years of this insane abuse-athon? And lo, if they don't (possibly) exploit a Windows 10 problem, and pull yet another financial transaction harassment stunt right here at home. From coin machines, writing and mailing checks, bus coin box payments, physical checkout transactions and the rest of it, the perps have been utterly consistent and utterly insane over screwing at this juncture. Just go fuck yourselves and leave me alone. Some 14 years of this relentless abuse-athon, with a prior 47 years of covert surveillance, and here they are still pissing around. I must scream at them (out of earshot) some 20x/day; "leave me the fuck alone", and "show the fuck up and figure out what your problem is". (As why should I, or any TI for that matter, need to be remotely harassed and abused in real time by way remote means).

A classic perp checkout stalking erupted some two weeks ago; no crotch grabbing this time, one of their most egregious stunts at this juncture, previously reported in this blog in 2015. This time, it was a three way swarm of Fuckwits/stalkers in motion just as I had grabbed my shopping bags and was about to depart. One Fuckwit did a come-at-me-then-turn-at-the-last-moment, while two where criss-crossing in opposite directions behind the lead Fuckwit. Said Fuckwit did the look-up-and-away as if programmed and totally out to lunch. (That is, totally inappropriate eye movement while about to encroach into someone's personal space). And too, why would anyone normal be doing this; coming in from outside and then heading for the checkout and then turning to avert their collision with the physical checkout and or me? And "excuse me" doesn't exist in the perp gangstalk/harassment vocabulary, another universal trait of theirs. And of course I was held up to await the end of this totally absurd choreography, another perp checkout stalking tactic of many hundreds of times.

I was dispatched to help the landscaper today as vineyard work isn't much of late. First I was packing a pallet of wine cases for shipment for a few hours, then onto weed eating and leaf blowing, then onto a third site to help the landscaper. He seemed like a cool guy and and no less, offered me to drive his Bobcat, but I deferred and said I had never driven one before so I wouldn't be that much help. He was OK with that and I volunteered it wouldn't be the best time to learn as we had to get this job done. And of all things, he used my name frequently; usually the perps NEVER allow this and have others stumbling over my name or plain "forgetting". As in who would ever forget that they encountered (and worked with) a mind fuck victim for crissakes?

Anyhow, the big rocks needed to be lifted up from the soil if they weren't too deep as he would then be placing black topsoil on top for me to rake smooth. Instant plantable landscaping I suppose, how it is always done. And so I began rock removing from the grayish lacustrine soil (ancient lake-bed). Then he used the Bobcat to distribute the black topsoil and I began raking into the form he directed. Then he had done all he could do and indicated what I had to do to finish and he took off.

Then the perps pulled a hailstorm for crissakes, with white 1/4" pellets raining down for 10 minutes to add a big sprinkle of white on top of the topsoil, presumably for contrast or some kind of "white" registration. It melted soon enough and soaked about a half inch into the topsoil. I still had plenty of raking to do, and lo, if the wet topsoil wasn't now jet black and the drier topsoil underneath didn't have a heretofore unnoticed brownish cast to it. And have we not done these wet weather color games before when the wet portions take on a slightly deeper color compared to the drier ones? Yes we have many times, more than 10 years ago even.

Then to complete the victim games, the two other tradesmen on the site also depart about half hour between them. If I finished the job at 1515h, they were gone by 1415h. Not a bad gig for a trades job. This perp method of having others selectively leaving in my proximity hasn't gone unnoticed over the years, the classic being the public transit bus and the oft-curious passenger turnover around me.

And too, the deep black and brownish black color contrast games have been done before. No end of garments or fabrics that are black colored slowly develop a brownish cast. And the excuse of it "happening" in the laundry due to dye leaching does not apply. The latest is that the fuckers are changing the color of the fabric of my black zippers of my black back pack to a brownish cast, and it has never been laundered.

In fact, the black and brownish black color contrast games go back to the 1980's when I had a Newfoundland dog, an all black one. Not only was he 150lb and deep black haired, but the "feathers", those hairs that streamed from the back of his legs were a decidedly brownish cast, the only location where he had this hair color. And I suppose as part of the color contrast games, and likely related to the perp's intense interest over hair color, the then-wife would always slack off on dog grooming and I was the only one who would groom the dog's hair, save the odd trip to the professional groomer. And it wasn't just a hour job, not with all that hair, and the knots and tangles it had. I could get a quarter of the dog groomed before he got restless with it and did his "mouthing", putting his jaws gently around my wrist to signal that the grooming session was over. In other words, it took four sessions to completely groom the dog, usually about an hour duration per session.

No day would be complete without helicopter coverage, and I had at least three for the some three hours on this job. Though none of the open cockpit gyrocopters this time, as they must of known a hailstorm was in the area and that would decidedly crimp their style. This year two gyrocopters are in (aerially stalking) circulation, both red colored. In the past four years there was this one slow one that would buzz the property I happened to be on (a different one, some 20 mi. south). But now a faster engined one has joined the gyrocopter-stalking show and it flies lower for some reason. (A gyrocopter has two propellers; one unpowered (unlike a helicopter) vertical axis to give it lift and a pusher propeller (horizontal axis) in the rear to propel it forward. And they don't have a long tail boom. And just when I thought I had a gyrocopter "problem", so did the White House).

09-09-2016 Friday
More BSODs in Windows 10. And just to show me that they mean to be mean, they are pulling these in the middle of running a playlist, same artist, multiple albums. I am a whole album listener of music if it isn't radio or streaming. So... when the assholes strike in mid playlist they decidedly want to interrupt my "groove" if you will, the simple act of listening to one performer over an extended duration, over 35 min. or so.

 A rare Saturday off, or at least of late. I had to get replacement tires as the ones I had were wearing out 40% into their distance warranty. I thought it would be a protracted hassle to get a new set through a warranty four years after I bought them. But Pirelli were astonishing reasonable and I got a new set of four balanced and mounted for $260, a $400 saving over a new set. But given the perp's insane fuckery over tires, natural rubber and all that contacts them, one can assume this expedited tire set serves another purpose. And too, I was also picking up my set of four snow tires, used, on used rims, that were purchased some 4 weeks ago and dropped off at the same tire shop.

And as part of this tire stunt, I drove 40km up Hwy 97 to Westbank to get the tires mounted and balanced due a local tire dealer changing alignment with their parent franchise July 01. And who got pissy about not handling a Pirelli warranty. Some thanks for the $2k of vehicle repairs I rammed up their ass in the last year.

Then when back to my residence, the perps pulled a rare pre-noon nap attack. This came on while reading the "Secret Team", and I got hit for two hours. As usual, I was not running a sleep deficit, and there was absolutely no reason to suddenly get tired at 1100h. And the perps are constantly running interference on me while reading this book; very often I get 20pp into my reading and then they scramble me so I cannot read any more. Before all this erupted in 04-2002 I could read anything for hours at a time, but since then they like to curtail my reading duration by scrambling my capability to focus. Nice guys, but then again, when you are harassing the utter shit (literally and figuratively) out of someone for 14 years straight, dithering their reading by remote means is a mere nothing.

A 15th year remembrance today that I am sure is all over the news, but as I rarely venture into that contrived disinfo-space any more, no matter the media (aka, delivery format), I have no idea what is transpiring out there.

But I mean absolutely no disrepect, especially for all those who lost family in that atrocity. It is just that I am a news cynic, more than ever. I was there working in Seattle that day when I heard something curious on NPR news about a small plane had crashed into the Pentagon. Then my boss phoned me a few minutes later and said not to come to work, and that I should watch the TV news. I duly turned the TV on and there were the twin towers burning and all the apocolyptic footage in the streets. It was appalling to say the least, this utterly idiotic escalation of religious-militancy objectives. And I was cranked up all the more when the sound track indicated that both towers were burning and I could only see one on live TV. I assumed that one tower was lined up behind the other, but why did they keep that same camera angle on? Then the second tower went down and there was none. Needless to say I was dumbstruck. And of course the fate of the other two aircraft were also of news concern. Anyhow, like anyone else in the US, I was horrified and spellbound to say the least.

Later that day I had a dental appointment in Everett, where I had formerly lived. Then when done, I stopped at Ms. L, in circulation then, and we spent a long time viewing the news footage and then discussing all the portent of such egregious violence. And as well, the other building that came down, seeming without aircraft impact. Even the 9/11 commission didn't figure that one out. Since then there has been a volume of conspiracy material, and given my perp harassment experience since 04-2002, it would seem their murderous hand was at work. How did all those proximate vehicles get damaged by a quasi-melt or burning for example? And how did someone organize loads of compost in dump trucks to be then dumped on smouldering piles the next morning? I have seen what remotely applied localized material manipulation has looked like, i.e. watching a stiff mu-metal sheet crumple up in my hand unbidden by any conventional force. And too, a screwdriver shaft bending by action of my hand with no heat application. And ponder why Karen Hughes bailed from Bush's cabinet within some 4 months on the job. (And rejoined some years later). The conspiracy theories are rife, but remotely applied unconventional energetics isn't going to come up very often.

Then add the curiousity as to why my TV was even working as I had cancelled the service a month earlier. A month later I got a bill, and then informed the service that I had cancelled it, to which they concurred and apologized for their billing "screw up". Had they got my service disconnection request correctly the first time, I would not of seen 9/11 events live. Anyhow, that doesn't prove anything of course, it is just a curiousity.

A vineyard working day today, working with two friendly Quebecois fellows putting out picking bins and cleaning other ones. The brakes on the side-side were faulty the owner told me, so thankfully no problems going down the steep hilly sections.

Time to get this launched before a BSOD takes me down again.

Monday, September 05, 2016

Electronic Gadgets for Sabotage.

09-02-2016, Friday
A round of screaming at the Psychopaths tonight as they fucked with my Astell & Kern digital audio player, at least the 50th time since I received it about two weeks ago. It worked perfectly fine, and then poof, all kinds of buttons and touch screens didn't work. Even the connection to the PC didn't work at least 5x tonight. Then it partially worked, then it didn't work, then the correct screen came up and disappeared, then the correct screen came up again but it didn't take the command, and finally it did. All to load some more files on it. And it worked perfectly fine last night in this same capacity.

Same for the car audio deck; the assholes fucked with the Source button so it would not select the CD over the tuner, or vice versa, it would just turn off altogether. Then I could "fool it" by popping out the CD and then putting it back and lo, the CD worked. Then again, the only way to get the tuner was to pull out the disc and not replace it, and lo, the tuner suddenly came to life. What is the matter with this Psychopathically Insane Agency (the PIA perhaps?) that they cannot declare themselves to their victims, but instead, remotely torment the living shit out of them 24x7, (literally and figuratively) now for over 14 years?

And to make matters all the more grim, it is going to be an on-off rainy weekend, this here Labor Day weekend. This summer we had some nice weekends in May, and two in August, and to keep their wretched streak going, they are now back to screwing weekend weather in September. Not that today or yesterday was that great either; rain both days in the afternoon. Today, they timed their rain just when I started to work outside for the first time today, as I had been kept inside doing winery work, and order packing.

Earlier tonight, screaming at the assholes during meal preparation, and again when making the smoothies as part of the alternate cancer treatment regimen. Last weekend I was infuriated by the assholes, though no screaming, as the screwed me out of taking the supplements that go with the kidney flushes I take every two hours. Only the day before the two bottles were made up and the supplements were in hand and I did the kidney flush regimen as required. The next day, after making up the solutions the night before, the assholes made me "forget" to take the supplements with me. Same deal as my similar complaints of two weeks ago; the assholes give me prostate cancer (diagnosed 06-2016) and then turn around and screw me out of taking the supplements and solutions in an attempt to address the problem. They will screw you when attempting to address the problem they screwed you with in the first place, every time. It is as sick as it is predictable.

Went to work in the vineyard at the weekend employer, but he didn't tell me in advance that he wanted me to work in his winery instead until I phoned him from the vineyard. The vineyard location where I left off last week had been attended to. So..., all the debris he heaped upon other debris in his garage cum winery over the past six months had to be sorted through and cleaned. Even some mucky fittings had to be cleaned up from his bottling endeavor in May.

Labor Day weekend is finishing up, this being Labor Day, same as in the US. And it was labor all weekend at the above mentioned employer, continuing to clean his winery and property up. In fact it was borderline hilarious; he and his wife are pack rats and they ask me to clean up the winery and property. I told them in advance I am a throw-it-out, person, though with responsible rules. (That is, the rules are to throw the item out if NO to all of; "use it in the last year?", "likely to use it in the next year?", "monetary value in the open market?", and "does it have emotional connection to one's past or family?", e.g. pictures). So I assemble a pile of stuff to throw out (as I have some history there too), and and they start picking at it and retrieving stuff from it.

Eventually their van was loaded with enough junk that we went to the Penticton dump and dropped items off at the various recycle piles, and then the refuse pile. At the packaging recycle area, just after crossing the scales, where we were to put cardboard, paper and glass in their respective bins, it suddenly became a big vehicular gangstalk, with some six vehicles descending around us who just "happened" to need to arrive at the same time. As their are no painted lines to guide traffic it became a free-for-all for driving and parking behavior, and one dumb-assed shit parked exactly behind the van some 10' back, just out of rear mirror range. It was a good thing I got out in advance of the boss man backing up and told him to not do so, and that we would have to hand pack the recycle waste some 40' due to the idiotic parker, and the rest of the cluster fuckers. The perps just love the concept of garbage, not to mention having me visit the dump and recycling bins, not only at the municipal landfill but at the in-town locations too. And I cannot count the number of garbage trucks that circulate in my proximity in any given week, some 20 or so, and that is without making any dump trips as there would be more in that case. Even my landlord commented on the city curbside collection service changing their route for the first time in the 20 some years he has lived at his place (next door), as they now back down the lane beside my vehicle, usually at about 0740h when am about to depart for work (on Fridays).

I picked up some 4lb of basil yesterday from a farm and tonight I food-processed it into a pesto base with the addition of olive oil. Not a true pesto, but I can add garlic and/or nuts to it if I wish at a later time. I then freeze the paste into an ice cube tray, and once frozen I store it in freezer boxes in the freezer for use over the winter. I believe I have now processed 10lb this summer, and that should do me for the winter. As to why the perps need me to do this virtuous food preservation activity I have no idea. They do like me to cut plant material, e.g. vine pruning, so perhaps a whirring blade set doing the job in my kitchen represents more of their investigation of the secret life of plants. (There is a book by that name, "The Secret Life of Plants", recommended), which the perps had me read back in 2004 or so, which gave me some insight as to why they like to gangstalk me with landscape vehicles carrying plant material, (usually cut, but sometimes packing live plants in pots).

Enough for a post, even if the Russians stopped goosing the statistics since I drew attention their peculiar interest in this here blog.