Monday, March 20, 2017

Glassware Sabotage

And what is it about glassware that so interests the perps? From glass bottles to glass storage vessels, they are totally besotted. So much so in fact, the assholes punched a hole in my borosilicate glass Bodum vessel. It is just the perfect size to grasp, and serves to keep half my smoothie in for the next day. BUT FOR SOME REASON the assholes needed to break it, this time surreptitiously, as they didn't cause me to fumble or drop it, their usual routine so to blame the victim. None of that; I cleaned it, put it in the rack, and looked at it a while later, and lo, if the assholes didn't put a hole in it, pictured below. No glass pieces to be found in the sink or anywhere and more unusually, no cuts, aka, bloodletting, one of their all time favorite jerkarounds.  And what is the meaning of that for crissakes? All to change up the vessel I suppose, and too, change the design as I don't see these straight sided vessels available any more. Who knows, maybe the new ones come from a different factory too, and that fascinates the perps too.

Long time regular readers will know that they pulled this shit over my Bodum coffee maker about three years ago, and as part of it, had my mother's one drop out of the cupboard and smash, all so I could recover the hardware parts. Later, I took her hardware parts and mated them to my same sized coffee maker, to re-construct a coffee maker with different generations of parts, vessel, handle, stem, filter and lid. Then a year later they fucked me out of drinking coffee with the invoked pissing problem.

 Anyhow, Monday night yoga stalk wasn't quite the "squeeze together" show of last week, and the dude count was down to 4, from six. They put the blonde babe back on again, this time at the other side of the room, not beside me like three weeks ago when she was last there as a major distraction. In the lobby after class, she came to "visit" in all her gorgeous legs, (wearing shorts) while I was putting on my footwear, strutting about and making sure I saw her in all her majesty. Then they inserted the regular stalker dude following her, the one who hangs around me and "happened" to be on door stunt duty last week.  That is, the one who was on the other side of the door of the practice room when I opened last week, a regular stalk-stunt that "happens" far too often to be coincidence. Now that the cold weather has abated, I must devise a way to get the hell out of the yoga lobby area faster, so these loitering Fuckwits don't have a chance to put on their show. But one can readily figure out their countering ploy; instead of letting me leave the class first or second, with everyone hanging back for some weird reason, they will suddenly start hurriedly leaving and block my egress. It is worth a try, just to see if the mass stalking behavior suddenly changes.

Pruning vines all day yesterday, and today. The good news is that we have finished pruning the some 30 acres, finishing late today. In characteristic fashion the perps sabotaged my electric pruner set yesterday morning, just after the morning break. The electric pruners had been working fine the day before, and for the first two hours. Then it just plain conked out. Classic perp timing; when 80-90% done, the essential tool craps out. So I used hand pruners (secateurs) and loppers to do the job, including all today. So I was the one of five without the red vest with its integral battery pack, and of course, no electric cutting tool. And what was that all about? Four of the five of us have identical models, all purchased at the same time last year, and all of them held up fine except for the set that I had. (We each kept the same set each day). So what was that piece of sabotage all about? In past experience, the assholes have multiple aims; no red garment (vest), no battery pack on my back, no EMF discharge from the cutting tool, use of different hand, wrist and arm muscles in manual application of pruning tools etc. All while the rest of crew kept going with using their electric pruners of course. All fascinating comparative details if you are a perp Psychopath and have been hounding the victim for nearly 15 years as to what color of garments one wears, proximity to electric energy fields and EMF pulses. And all the better while pruning, as in cutting plant material, another perp preoccupation that has been evident early on since they first went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002.

And I suppose, when one reads "The Secret Life of Plants", and finds that plants have a electro-sensitivity to adjacent plants being harmed, it seems to add the perp need to discover something about plant-human (psychic?) interactions. Lets see; human have been plant tending for 10,000 years, and assuming the Psychopaths (perps) were present then, then why in the fuck have they rounded on me in this macabre nonconsensual human experimentation project, after arming me with a battery pack and an electric pruning tool, and as a job, pruning vines for a living? I don't know, and I am sure a lot of abetting assholes (scum-inals in my parlance), who do know.

And what was with the cough-stalking with my crew members today? Four of the five of them broke into coughing while proximate to me, plus a few well timed sneezes. And fakey coughs too. The boss man had a cough all day long and had an unerring knack of timing his coughing just as I put the manual pruners around the vine cane I was about to cut. Another piece of adroit cough timing was when I had just made a pruning decision as to what to cut. So do they sign up to be invaded so they are forced to cough at the exact moment that is perp preferred?

Onto another current beef; I have been trying to sell my Camry for two months now, and so far I have got three text/email responses and one person came and saw it, but didn't buy it. Today another (rare) call, and a tentative meeting, but she phones at the appointed time to say she cannot make it. At least she phoned, unlike other no-shows. Other prominent sale blockages of the long past include real estate and lo, if I didn't lose a bundle in a stable, if not, rising market. Never mind been hung out to dry for a year.

After three weeks, my RCA interconnect cables arrive in the mail, precipitated by a solder "failure" that self erupted inside the RCA plug housing of my extant cables. It took a 10 days for "Express" mail to make it from MN to BC. Then to add insult to injury, the landlady kept the package overnight and dropped it off this (Saturday) morning when I was out attending to laundry. Given the need the perps have to mess with connecting cables, including driving (vehicular gangstalking) all those phone and internet service vehicles around me, why should be I surprised?

The perp's need to add the "running Fuckwit" gangstalkers was finally revealed to me. These are the seeming (out of place) idiots who are arranged to run on the streets in street wear, and do not include the plethora of day-glo runners/joggers out for exercise. The "running Fuckwits" will run on city blocks where there is no bus route, or even on suburban streets where there are no offices. So much for the excuses like running for a bus or late for an appointment. The last-most "running Fuckwit" of note was an E. Indian (from India) running along a suburban secondary arterial in a turban and a suit. No bus route, no nearby stores, incongruous running clothing, so what was the excuse?

Well as it turns out, the basis of aerial flight is the lift provided by the earth's photonic energy field, and not the pressure difference between the lower and upper wing surfaces. Otherwise, an aerobatic aircraft would never fly, as it has a symmetrical wing cross section. Or, aircraft could not fly upside down. More speed begets more lift. So... it would seem the running Fuckwits would be picking up more photonic energy than that of their adjacent gangstalking confreres, and it would seem they want to compare this elevated energy interaction to adjacent other and myself (kept in a densfied magnetic field) in whatever way they do. So you thought the Olympic track and field show was all about athleticism?

A total shut-in day this Sunday, and am still getting motivationally blocked on putting my dopamine paper together so to escalate this multi-faceted problem in search for a doctor that gives a shit. Not forgetting this insane dopamine obstruction theme began in 04-2002 when the assholes shanghai-ed me into hospital and took my dopamine enhancing stimulant medications away (that were very effective) and fed me dopamine agonists (blocking the dopamine and making me MUCH worse). If you think doctors are to help you and are acting in the patient's best interests you are sadly mistaken in my experience. Are we any any further in the West (Canada and the US in this case) than Soviet-style methods of sending state-deemed undesirables into mental hospitals with no due process and for no clinical reason? No. And keep a print out of all your contacts with you, as it saved my ass while in there. And check on what the doctor wrote in the chart (record) before the consult ends, as they will fucking lie to make themselves seem important.

Anyhow, enough of the daily detritus of dealing with Psychopathic Confederacy and screaming at the assholes so I can key what I want instead of having my fingers re-directed. Some 40 years of keyboarding and this is where I am kept.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

Sunday Best on a Wednesday Evening

Last week I drove to the mall where my regular SOF supermarket is on Wednesday evening, around 2000h. Maybe one car in the W lot, and I could park as close as a handicapped parker could do. So as I drive into the stall, why a woman in a wide brimmed hat is coming out of the mall entrance, no shopping in hand. (The mall part was closed, only the supermarket part was open). She had plenty of room to pass by as the lot was near empty, by some 20' even without altering her path any. But no, she passes within 2' of the rear of my just parked vehicle, and as I am stepping out I check her out. (Like, who would be so fucking stupid as to come by the rear of a vehicle with a driver still inside?). As I spot her coming past the rear as I exit on the driver's side, she shoots me a look. Like WTF woman; you are the weirdo, so why do I get this? I close the driver's door and head into the mall while she walks on. So why was she dressed like she was going to/from Sunday church in a wide brimmed hat in this super casual dressed town on a very dead Wednesday evening, and purposely passing 2' to the rear of my just parked vehicle? (On the casual look, the dudes are now wearing shorts for crissakes, and we haven't had a day over 10C this year). I have encountered these peculiar stalkers before who love to walk through where I have just parked or am about to park, but this one was a little different. Why the get up? And why shooting me the look, and not the usual avoidance comportment while scuttling off after so obviously stalking the victim? I don't know, though she did have the same stature as a few other larger obvious female stalkers I have come to know, so maybe this was the same woman. (Ms C of the story as one such).  I won't get into other perp-made obvious speculations as to who this might of been, but those in the know won't need to speculate much.

A day of pruning at the vineyard, and a new dude on the crew, another male pony tail. Now at three out of six crew members, and beginning to look more like a bikers club. Long time readers will know that male pony-tails rank high on the Unfavored demographic list, so it is most odd the perps have kept beating on this theme so much. Heaven forbid when the sunny weather comes and they possibly sport tattoos (very Unfavored). Last year's crew mate, a very interesting guy, had a huge armful of tattoos that I found unbearable to view.

There is a picture of the vineyard annotated (mapped) with the blocks and their ID's on the inside door of the viticulture barn. It serves as useful spatial layout of where we are at with the pruning, and what remains to be done. I look at it on my breaks, just to keep track of progress, as I am viewing it from my chair inside the heated barn. But I couldn't believe the rest of the crew at morning break; as I was looking at the picture map, they (unusually) kept coming and going, opening the door and disrupting my view of the picture map. Just when I re-established my bearings at the prior interruption, someone else would open or close the door and do it all over again. And as the last insult, the newbie stands in front of door, blocking my view of the map. Like WTF; at least 7 interruptions in viewing a picture map inside two minutes, with the coup-de-gras, the "get-in-the-way obstruction". And what is it about visual continuity (with a modicum of processing the visual material) is so important that it must be consistently disrupted so often?

Yoga tonight, and they stuffed it near full even if I did get there 10 minutes early. I should of bailed when looking at at the parking lot. And now a six dude flush, and four of them came to do the stand-in-front-of-me when I was sitting on the couch putting my shoes on. Another did the meet-me-at-the-door when entering the practice room, something that "happens" nearly every time I attempt to enter the practice room. All this getting up and moving around before class starts just has to be choreographed, unless everyone is ADD-hyperactive. And I see my normal power yoga is now moved to an impossible to make time, so perhaps it is time to move to another yoga studio.

Very windy today while outside pruning all day. The one woman on the six person crew was feeling ill and begged off before we finished the one block of Syrah. Within an hour we moved onto Malbec. The perps like to arrange noise and other perturbances when I am moving between different varietals, be it pruning, shoot thinning etc. The crew boss was sick yesterday, so it is going around.

The new guy came around at about finishing time, entering the row of his crew member friend, which was adjacent to me. I hear someone coming, and look, and here he is, he had me already lined up and is staring at him as I look to see who it is. Worse yet, he had his black hoody up, the kind with the sharp tip. There is something Unfavored about hoodies the perps like me to be exposed to, but this dude "pre-staring" at me before I looked up at him approaching was most strange. Not that he said hello either. And too, in the following days he never made the cross vineyard trip to visit his buddy at quitting time anyhow, as they would meet at their shared vehicle in the parking lot. More high strangeness for no seeming reason.

Three CD's arrived today in one Amazon order. Interesting that two of them are re-releases with extra songs, a CD extra each. The incomparable Nightbird by Eva Cassidy has five unreleased tracks on it, and is remixed and remastered. It has an extra CD from its predecessor, Live at Blues Alley. So I will retire the latter and install the former in my music library.

Ditto for the Complete Trio Collection, of Parton, Harris and Ronstadt, a 3 CD edition that will supersede my Trio I CD. (Didn't have Trio II, but do now in this set). The third CD has outtakes and alternate versions, and very much worth it. In other words, a whole lot of file making, renaming, and moving, displacing the original version I have. And to the perps love all that file activity for whatever reason.

A visit to the dentist this morning, getting one amalgam filled tooth milled down for accepting a crown. As usual, the masers and plasma projections were in abundance for the first 10 minutes when there wasn't much happening, except me sitting in the chair. The perps have a need to "paint the room" with magnetic phenomenon when in unfamiliar locations, particular doctor's and dentist's offices. Then the dentist got to work and she took the tooth down. All this online web nonsense about special handling of amalgam removals makes me laugh. Sure, the suction hose was in close proximity to the tooth (and amalgam) pieces flying off, but there isn't any special handling. Unless of course, all ejecta from teeth is specially handled. The dentist got to handle my cheek and all the rest of the professional need to touch the patient. I don't have any idea as to how the perps handle these physical energetic interactions, but they must seriously plan for them. The dental assistant did her bit too in making before and after wax impressions, again, all professional.

Perhaps it is part of the dentist's gruff style, but I don't understand her conversational style of talking to the nearby dental assistant about me as if I am not there. As in, "the reason his (wax) impression was so difficult to remove was because of the spaces between his teeth". Like WTF, I am right there, and she references me as if I am not there. But this isn't the first time this kind of third party conversation style has erupted in my presence, and not just this dentist. I assume it is yet another perp need, depersonalizing the victim, when surely she would not ever forget my presence due the magnetic activity, and whatever other perp preparations are made in advance.

The perps were at their games again while I was in the dentist's chair, more like prone. I put on their safety glasses after removing my own, and lo, if they didn't steam up. I lifted them off my face a little, and within the minute the safety glasses pivot on my head and swing backwards. The dentist asks if I am OK, almost perfunctorily, so it would seem the whole thing was scripted and she had a ready comment. I got a different pair then and they worked fine.

As "usual", the dentist was wearing a face mask and had the special magnifying glasses on so I didn't really see much of her face for the whole time, even if she was 12" away for the half hour it took for her work. The perps love to play up these partial face visibility activities; perhaps why Europe is getting inundated with the hajib crowd. 

Just before payment for dental services the Asian woman (who seems strangely reserved for a service business) arrives, she being present last time when I paid for my tooth cleaning. I haven't figured out what role she legitimately plays in the office, as they only need one office assistant, and they have one. Perhaps they have some personnel changes planned, or perhaps they need to have Asian stalkers while I am making a transaction. Or perhaps she was "read" from outside to inside just before payment, a common technique of correlating outside energy states to those inside. (Regular readers will know the perps are utterly obsessed with stalking my ass when making financial transactions, from coin machines, paychecks, paying bus fare, writing and mailing checks, cash, debit card etc.) Though I am quite sure they have a data bank of many hundreds of my past financial transactions I have made with Asians. And what about the history of Hong Kong and the British in all their drug dealing of the British of East India Company? Surely a gold mine of interracial financial transactions for surreptitious perp research, all without electromagnetic pollution in the day.

A full blown warm sunny day in the vineyard, and I even took my ski jacket off for the afternoon. Of course the perps played some cloud obstructing games and chilled me down, but only for 20 min. or so. And I see the perps stole my toque I had been wearing for the last 6 weeks, often in the prior snow-bound conditions. I don't know what their fixation is over what hats I wear, and what material and color, but every so often they need to steal or trash my hats. They trashed my bucket hat I had worn for the last five years in the washing machine after the last vineyard work day in 2016, so I would not be surprised the assholes have pulled another "hat attack", this one not on my head at the time.

It was fixed wing aircraft overflight today, especially getting those noisy single engine aircraft out to buzz the vineyard for a few passes, maybe 10 aircraft on the day. Later, one helicopter came by. The HD motorcycle noise made its 2017 debut from the road below the cliff, and of course the perps made sure I heard that. Ditto for later this evening at this residence where the back lane "neighbor", aka perp action center,  brought in two HD motorcycles for noise harassment while making dinner, a very favorite harassment situation.

The vineyard crew met the owners for the first time today; they seem like reasonable and personable people.

Vineyard pruning all day today; back to cool climate viticulture. Chilly winds off the re-formed lake ice made it necessary to put on my ski jacket again. As to how the lake got ice back on it after a warming trend is in progress I have no idea.

I wore my city wear-only toque to the vineyard, as my backup one went missing. No untoward scuzzing it thankfully, the usual fate of pristine or clean objects being deployed in a rare substitution. And lo, my regular vineyard wear toque was "found" by someone yesterday, duly scuzzed up. One cannot win for losing with the perps.

Saturday, and leg wax day, and lo, if the rain didn't start up when I was about to set off. I had a few prior errands to do, one being dropping off the bottles at the recycle center, as for some reason they take everything else but glass. Then to the hardware box store where the lineups at the cashiers were nonexistent when I arrived, and five deep at five cashiers when I came to purchase my items. Onto the cosmetology school for my leg wax, but then a forced piss before I was allowed to get ready. A young E. Indian girl on my W side, and the oversized instructor on the E side. I was done inside of 35 min. with two of them on me, no issue with that. The instructor is always friendly and conversational; we talk about wine and wineries, and as it turned out, about music and musicians. It seems she read the same book as I have recently, Keith Richard's "Life". More interesting conversation ensued. Then as it turns out, she was an opera singer, but then she was called away after that interesting segue.

It took the attendance of four girls to get the cash system right so I could pay for my leg wax service. The E. Indian girl was there, two trainees, and then they had to bring in this horrific blondish girl with black lipstick and four rings in her lips to help them. Then they had to bring her back again for another problem. Can we call this yet another financial transaction stalking, or just an extended event? I am so familiar with cash registers going "wrong" these days that I have become blase about it. And what is it that so interests the perps every time I pay for something, no matter the circumstances, e.g. online, in store, cash, debit card etc.? And too, returning something is a big deal for the assholes.

Back in the high-abuse and intense harassment days of 2002, it was quite obvious that financial transactions were a big deal; these male Fuckwits would suddenly arrive around me while I was at the cash desk, sometimes in these ridiculous poses where they obviously weren't shopping for anything, back facing me. I assume they were teleported in, as they arrived soundlessly and in close proximity within five seconds or less of having looked at the same location where there was no one. Who are these fuckers, and why have they been harassing the living shit out of me for nearly 15 years?

Saturday evening now; what a piss-assed "self" imposed disruption day; do this, interrupt myself and do that, go onto something else, and repeat the interruptions again from the beginning. I found that my coffee table, built under high-stress circumstances when the perps unloaded on me big time in 2002, including Ms C. of the story (27pp.) and her drama queen act, has a glue joint that somehow "failed" so it doesn't support the table top. Onto chiselling and sanding to get the old glue out and re-visit the big box hardware store to get a different glue that expands in the joint. Except that I had to take care to tape off the joint, cautiously joining only two pieces instead of three at once. Even still I had glue expanding onto the outside and needing to be wiped off with mineral spirits. Nothing like that pong to go to bed with. All part of the chemical ether perturbance I suppose. Later in the morning I find the assholes had me "forget" to put the lid on, and to add insult to injury, the humidistat controlled bathroom fan was turned off. Said fan has an annoying habit of coming on when I am listening to music, or when in the bathroom, timed to the start of my activities there.

A sunny Sunday, and so off to McIntyre Bluff for a hike. Last week I did the same, except that it wasn't sunny, and it had 4" of snow on the ground. Today, hardly any snow, and mucky only in a few places. I had my usual retinue of trail stalkers, and can hardly wait until it dries up some more and I can get to my nearby "back country" sunning spots.

The HD motorcycle noise in the back lane started up when I got into my morning chest hair plucking routine. Said noise also erupted before I set off. And was there "for me", when at the top of McIntyre Bluff. Non-HD motorcycles escorted me on my way back on Hwy 97, pulling this gonzo passing stunt when I was already doing 105kph when the speed limit was 80kph. Not only that, he had all of 8 seconds to pull this idiot show off, and pulled back in the lane some 10' from my front bumper. He was the bravest of the six of them, as the rest slowly arrived to pull these same idiotic passes. Then they suddenly slowed down when there something odd on the other side, no police, but a seeming radar set up. For all that extreme road passing, the assholes ended up immediately in front of me approaching Okanagan Falls. There, Hwy 97 turns L, and if you go straight one can take the alternate route along Skaha Lake, the Eastside Road, slower, and only two lane. The motorcycle stalkers took the L route and so I went straight and took the alternate route. About 15 minutes later, who do I see in the rear view mirror? Why all the motorcycle stalkers again. The Fuckwits had re-grouped and changed their driving plans to then follow me, this time with out the gonzo driving. There is no getting away from motorcycles (noise and stalking) when the weather turns sunny, weekend or otherwise.

Too much chocolate consumption these days, and I the craving won't stop. And how many doctors have I mentioned this to and got nowhere? Perhaps 10 over the past two decades, and not a one of them is any help. Is it just me, but why are doctors so useless? I still haven't finished my pissing match with the obdurate laggard urologist, and for some reason I have been hit with a motivational lapse to deal with this fucker.

Anyhow, enough Rants from the Rabbit Hole for this week.

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Technetium Injection No. 2

A trip to the big city, Kelowna, to get injected with Technetium and a follow-on bone scan. This would be the second one, the first in 07-2016. And yet again, to determine if my prostate cancer has metastasized, this time prompted by the symptoms of recent pelvic and back pain. Yet again, I get injected with a radioactive substance, (half life of 48 hours) and then scanned to see it as it gets taken up by my bones. Hopefully it is negative, but in this present circus of symptoms and conditions I have been put through, who knows.

I got injected in the morning, and then I returned three hours later to get scanned. Which meant plenty of kick-around time, and so I visited a few tool stores, but strangely felt agitated in each so that I didn't buy anything. Then to a used CD & book store to peruse the stock, and then to another tool store, one of my long term faves. This time, I was allowed to purchase a few items, having a list on hand. Then to an outdoor store and peruse the goods there, buy a few trinkets and then got held up at the cash register as there was an item I was looking for and the stockist went to look for. While waiting they switched the cashier, from female to male, and he did the friendly nattering thing while waiting for the stockist to report back on a certain item's availability. It wasn't to be had as it turned out. I suppose this is a more elaborate exercise in checkout obstruction/delay; wait for a determination from the stockist AND switch cashiers. In the latter instance, the perps have been pulling this one for 14.5 years, never mind the covert games that went on before. So what is it about undertaking a financial transaction that so interests the perps? And I am talking transactions of all shapes and forms; coin machines (that malfunction way too often), bus fare, writing and mailing checks, cash (change or purchase), debit card, online and of course, paychecks. And gifts too.

I got my usual jerkarounds at the hospital over parking; at first no parking at the parkade, and then the second time I found a stall, but the machine, once I found it one level down, wouldn't take money. So I parked the car on the same side street at the first time. Each time they put on an ambulatory gangstalker when I arrived at my vehicle. A residential side street of no major activity, and these stalkers arrive as I arrive at my vehicle, one providing the traditional cell phone coverage while passing by.

I drove the yet-to-be-sold Camry, and filled up, and lo, if a dude didn't cruise by to chat about the vehicle while I was filling up. I have a for-sale sign on it, so he had a legitimate entre. How he saw the sign from where his vehicle was located suggested a set up though. And given the amount of gangstalking games tha go down while filling my vehicle, and his lukewarm questions/interest, this smacked of gaming the victim (me). No big deal. But why have I only got two feeble inquiries in 5 weeks for a reliable vehicle with lots of repair history last year?

I picked up Adele's "19" today at the used bookstore, and ripped it to my collection, and I find that my "21" album has gone missing on my PC. In fact, the artist folder too. Like WTF; the "21" CD was given to me by my farm worker friend, I played it, liked it, ripped it and now its gone, poof. A word to the perps; leave my stuff alone, and leave me the fuck alone. Not that they listen to me at all.

I missed yoga tonight due to a pissing match over getting some new software to split a track into two, which was two strung together by a 30 seconds of silence. Only after I went to the bathroom did the software start working properly, not doing anything different. The perps like doing this; blocking new software operation over something dog simple. I haven't revisited Google's free CAD software after a royal pissing match with the perps over its obviously denatured/corrupted features, e.g. greying them out, or it just doesn't work

Cold all day today, and a wind off the nearby lake with ice still on it. This would be at the vineyard site where I am pruning the vines. The perps ran me out of work in 2003, and then only allowed me to start farm work in 2008, and vineyard work is the present culmination (aka, career path) of this insane imposed abuse. Farm laboring is for the dispossessed, given the nature of the work and working conditions. I don't know what the perps get out of having me do this work, but given the number of times they arrange noise for whenever I make a pruning cut, cut a cabbage or make any other kind of harvesting activity, there must be something in it for them. Besides, they get to control my income with the low pay rate, and keep me in seasonal work. Full time work, or full time association with an employer is not allowed by the Fourth Reich.

Vineyard pruning all day today. The organized games continue, this time over where I park my vehicle. Four of us have vehicles, and two parked on one lot, and two in the adjacent lot as a matter of habit over two weeks. No big deal; same thing in regular classes, every one has their spot and sticks to it. But not today; the two "other lot" workers decide to both move their vehicles to the same lot a me, and then park in stalls on each side of my regular spot. Like WTF; this isn't even pretend random; it is just plain stalking/herding me to park somewhere else.

All this abetted by the perps making me later for work, another one of their stunts. When getting ready to depart, a pissy scene erupted when clods of soil fell off my boots and got over the floor and door sill. Then they powered down the player in the vehicle again, killing the one pre-set radio station. And what is it of late about getting out the door and out of the place that has to be sabtoged routinely by the perps? The make me "forget" my keys, something I NEVER forget, every time I head out. Add in other "forgets" and I am routinely making one or more back tracks to the house to get something. What is the matter with the perps that they must escalate this insane stunt?

More strangeness by a particular co-worker in vine pruning, the one that did the pointless back-and-forths from two weeks ago. This time he stops pruning in mid row and then walks up the hill some 120', past me in the adjacent row and starts pruning the same row from the top. Like WTF; he just created extra work for himself for no seeming reason. I am pruning downhill, and he is now also pruning downhill. As I get to the location where he stopped to go uphill, he now comes down opposite me, 7' away (width between rows) and resumes where he left off the first time, so he now works uphill. Now we have TWO totally pointless movements in pruning that cost him traveling some 160' for no seeming reason. Perhaps he is building up his "derangement cred". I have talked about "asshole cred" before, though this does not apply to any one on the crew or organization; they all seem to be OK people to relate to.

Pruning vines all day yesterday, that being Saturday. I was all by myself in the vineyard as I had to make up a day due to Monday's absence, the trip to Kelowna, per above. The perps like to do this; not only have me work alone where there is no one else around, but also have me put in four rows of pruning side by side. Normally with a crew of five, I would be doing every fifth row, though it varies as some are faster than others. I cannot count the number of times in my office work days when I went in on weekends to catch up due to so many vicissitudes of  things going wrong or needing extra time when no one else was there.

I finally got my first hike done in the year, but it wasn't a classic. There was snow on the ground for half of the two hour hike. And as usual, some strange cats on the trail. The dude in shorts and a shirt on his back country bicycle took the cake this time; I come down a steep slope and there he is stopped at the bottom waiting and looking at his cell phone. I don't think I have been more obviously phone-stalked than this, but I am sure it will happen. Said Fuckwit came back down in 20 minutes as he just couldn't be bothered to tough it out by climbing the snowy slopes on his bicycle. I was about 4C at best, with some light rain, and there he was in flannel shorts and a long sleeve shirt. Said shirt was mucked up from dirt flicked up from the rear wheel. Maybe that was the point; instead of stalking me with road dirt plastered vehicles, why, send in a dirt splattered kid on a off-road bicycle instead. And have him "register" color receptivity (or whatever they get from it) on his cell phone while under tree cover as I pass by. Ridiculous.

And plenty of road dirt plastered vehicles out these days, and one Volvo in particular that needed to pass me, all to have me catch up. And they put on the yellow flashing lights when I made my first corner onto Hwy 97 N bound, a tow truck sitting there for no reason. Later, a small rock fall on the highway and a police car with flashing red and blue lights beside it as some kind of warning. So, I and others, drove over these small rocks (1-2") scattered on the road for some 20' of distance. I drove a Volvo for 15 years, and my then-wife had one too, surely no coincidence in this ongoing stalking game of color arranged vehicles, though I didn't know about prior covert surveillance until 3Q-2003, about 18 months after the perps went berserk-over on me in 04-2002.

Daylight savings time again; the perps do have a fetish over getting the time wrong, setting clocks, or clocks being out of sync. Some asshole fucked with my cell phone a few weeks ago, re-setting the clock to run local, and lo, if it didn't run different somehow, going faster and slower. I always have the cell phone set to the network time, but "some how", some asshole reset it to run independently and furthermore, changed the time. And when do I find out? Why, that magic major harassment moment of heading out the door for the first time of the day, with at least four forced "forgets" to piss me off extremely. Same routine; "forget" the keys, how to tie one's boots, getting all my gear together to go work to go pruning etc. At least three rage-ifications to get out the door.

About one hour after returning from hiking the extra-conventional hijinx started up; pulling things from my hands, things snagging and hanging up, handling objects goes wrong, water splashes travel in unusual directions etc. At least 10 screaming level rage-ifications over the next hour. And what interests the perps so much at this juncture? Certainly food preparation is one event they like to disrupt, more so today. Perhaps it was the time change too, making dinner at a time that has more daylight than before.

Just when I wanted to write my piece on dopamine for the urologist I get two phone calls tonight. Another hour gone. What is it about urologists that they are so uniformly obdurate and unhelpful. There must be a clue there, if the perps are so intent on obstructing me from this kind of care.

Autobiography reading is now important (for the perps). Thank goodness for that, as after reading about the horrendous and gruesome events depicted in the book, "After the Reich" by Giles McDonogh, I was ready for some relief. "Life" by the rock and roll bad boy, Keith Richards was a great read, and I admire him for his honesty and artistic integrity. A book by  the ice hockey player, Bobby Orr, is being read at work as we get a full half hour lunch break. I have no idea what the perps get from me while reading, let alone biographies. Perhaps they need to separate the psychic energies of reading personal narratives versus non-fiction factual material.

Anyhow, enough for a posting and on with the show for another week.

Sunday, March 05, 2017

Incremental Dude Insertions at Yoga

After backing off yoga for three weeks, I decided to head there and see what kind of shape the perps will put me into tomorrow morning, as if it were "from" yoga. And lo, if they didn't pull a light snowfall onto the bare ground, only a week exposed since early January. About 15 yogis there, and this time they upped the dude population to four, up from their previous high of three, though two has been common over the past few years. Three of them "happened" to do a entrances-and-exits number around me as I entered the practice room, and the fourth one was inserted afterward. One of them looked like he never took yoga before, another seemed like a body builder. Not your usual yogi. Another was the arts freak in the man-bob I see time to time. Two of them were on the other side of the delectable young blonde woman next to me, surely planted there for that dopaminergic rush upon viewing her gorgeous visage, short shorts and all. On my other side was an overly large woman, another never-before.

Anyhow, the perps made sure I felt more inept at yoga than usual, playing up this health problem they have saddled me with, as if prostate cancer wasn't enough. That on top of the ongoing pissing match over being dopamine deficient and all the rest of it; urination urgency is the latest extreme annoyance that has been coming back again, despite the medications.

On the mysterious ailment front I am more nerve bothered today; my L arm has been week and there is nerve pain in my shoulder blades on both sides. And some generalized stiffness in my pelvic region. And it seems the perps have been bringing this one on since 07-2015, slowly though, so it seems it has "legs" and they aren't about to terminate the problem until some crisis erupts. I can hardly wait, and live in fear as to what exactly is going to play out. I have been through a number of these "health mystery tours", and I don't see it as a coincidence that it erupts when I am getting a better fix on my dopamine deficiency. Not that I consider myself making too much progress on this front, as most doctors are clueless as to its importance to the "peripheral system", that is, everything but the central nervous system. Stiffing this victim with ADD wasn't enough adversity, and they put me through a gauntlet of seeing four doctors in succession 1998-2001, who each blew me off. Finally I got a SPECT scan, and that has been my continuing trump card to get any doctor-adversity straightened out.

The landlady wanted to visit this  residence this morning as she had an appraiser coming. I would be out, but I did ask if she was going to sell the property. She said maybe. They have lived here for 25 years, and have family across the street. It just doesn't add up. So... if they do sell, I could be dispatched if the new owner doesn't want me here. Or else they could jack the rent up big time. Nothing good ever lasts, and after a near four year run here, the perps likely want to move me on. Bring on the loud "neighbors"; upstairs, downstairs or either side, who can even pound concrete floors and make them vibrate (somehow). Never mind the propensity of the perps to staging sex in adjacent apartments. Hmm, much food for thought today and where this new episode will go. Four years is about the most they have ever had me stay in one place, but one can be sure the discomfort and interaction level will be escalated. No sense in having a undisrupted victim is there?

The day after yoga, and thankfully I am not the next day waste case I was back in January. Note that I am never ordinarily discomforted by yoga, even the greater workout version I regularly attended until they screwed with the schedule in January. Whatever these aches and pains that came on after yoga, and sent me into a tizz thinking it was metastatic prostate cancer, now seems to have mostly abated. Perhaps temporarily, as mentioned above, this mysterious ailment might yet come back on me. Today, I had less shoulder and arm pain, so perhaps that symptom component is now finishing up. Hard to know, when they can access every cell, if not, molecule in real time and mess it up or otherwise fuck with it. Or at least, that is the way it seems.

Vine pruning all day at work today, finishing up the chardonnay block. Nice to finish one section, but I see on the wall map there is a considerable amount of acreage to get done. Which begs the question, why did they start in February when they could of got going a month earlier? No idea, but it remains to be seen as to what further problems this would create.

The mulatto co-worker came back today after a week away. He was in Mexico apparently, and now registers three shades darker in the face from his tan, or whatever means the perps have to darken skin. Perhaps this is his normal skin tone, and two weeks ago they whitened him down as an introduction tactic. (He has negroid facial features, but was near Caucasian skin color). All in keeping with these ongoing ethnic and skin color games the perps need to expose me, and too, their Unfavored demographic groups they dearly love to parade before me.

Speaking of which, the ample sized woman on the crew gave up her mid-thigh coat today and put on a warm bomber jacket. Which meant that I was set up to view her ample butt as she was in the row ahead of me much the time today. And do I need to see yet another oversized butt, male or female? Emphatically NO. And apply to that to all Unfavoreds, this ongoing freak show parade that the perps need to expose me to constantly, and incrementally it seems, e.g. the mulatto boy getting darker after a week in Mexico.

Pruning vines in the vineyard all today, now moved to a new block as we were directed to the wrong block for the last work hour yesterday. Perps love this; start something and then get interrupted and return much later than if it were a continuous job. It is still cold, though above freezing again, having had another freeze spell last week and the ground is thawing for the second time. Which means it gets slippery.

And I see the coyotes killed another deer on the lake ice, like what they did three years ago when working at another vineyard in the same area. (I saw the unfortunate deer struggling on the ice in the morning, and a coyote was clearing out as I drove by. On the way home, the eagles were guarding the carcass further out on the ice). Not that I saw such today, but the eagles were perched on the lake ice, guarding the carcass for their friends. And this was only 100m from open water, so it is most curious to me that the deer couldn't make it there if coyotes were on its ass. Or more to the point, if it were looking for water to drink, why didn't it go to the open water, rather than venture onto the ice where it has a singular disadvantage of keeping its footing. As always, there are so many curiosities out there, and all the more is why was this carnage arranged for me to witness again?

Another round of sabotage over audio playback. My vehicle's system lost power on start up yesterday and today, and all the settings were lost. Today, the assholes have fucked the playback through my home stereo system, as only the R channel will play. And to add insult to injury, the means to bypass this and run the sound through my headphones connected to the computer are compromised; the Windows settings just won't set. How many fucking times do the perps need to sabotage audio playback? I went through weeks, (six months if the repair episodes are included) of having the YBA amp messed with and testing for whatever the problem was in 2015-16, and now the assholes are at it again. Nothing functional EVER goes unsabotaged.

The audio equipment playback problem has been isolated to the input for one particular input. The tuner and the portable player both play both channels normally. Does this shit ever end? Two separate audio devices malfunction in two days of each other. Doubtless they will need to be shipped somewhere for months at a time. The computer playback is now working, albeit in one channel. That vexation finished off the evening. Funny how a reboot "cures" the problem.

A day of vineyard pruning again; some of my work colleagues have adopted the throat clearing all of a sudden when I am proximate. One in particular, and he does seem a little behaviorally odd, even without his on-off throat clearing act. I met last year's vineyard supervisor and she indicated that there was one crew member who did just what he wanted; it is the same guy as he is the only returnee from last year.

That doesn't include more back-and-forths; my next row work colleague did some of those today, all to look at young vines we weren't to prune. At least she wasn't on her cell phone doing this seeming strangeness.

About 1.5 hours of helicopter activity across the lake from the vineyard yesterday. I have no idea why they needed to buzz there for so long for so seeming little purpose. That would of put them in the flight path of Penticton airport, which means they must of had permission to putz there for that long.

Pruning vines all day long; more peculiar organized co-worker group behavior - all of them starting at the same end of the row when they had done a partial row. Normally one re-starts when where left off unless it is at the very opposite end, in which case, one picks it up after completing an adjacent new row.

A stiff breeze all day, enough for the hood of my ski jacket to be up. Then later, some rain, artfully timed after lunch to then serve as an impetus to take our jackets off while outside and then put the battery pack vests underneath, as they aren't to be in the wet. These are the battery packs of the Electrocoup electric pruners, the tool that I run all day. After that, no major rain, just the odd spitting now again.

And why do the perps constantly flick the switch on my Electrocoup pruners so that they are in the wide position when only use this less than 1% of the time? No, the switch does not catch on anything, nor does my finger slip onto it; somehow it just gets moved and then the perps screw me around by not "noticing" the setting for a minute or so. Normally I would notice the re-set setting right away as the jaws take longer to close.

Another daily disruption is "hat attacks"; my toque moves up somehow to uncover my ears so the extra loud wind buffeting noise (itself remotely enhanced to be extra loud) becomes all the more louder. The "hat attacks" have been going on ever since this Fuckover scene began in 04-2002; they just move my all by themselves, conventional gravitics be damned.

Good thing I was sitting around at home as I get this phone call from a guy about my car, thinking he was a potential buyer. But no, he was 40' away outside and wanted my car removed as they were going to do a service pole replacement. Once up and about I could see over the fence that a backhoe was outside and a ubiquitous stalking boom truck beside it. "Hate to see your car get scratched" he says, and I said likewise. I suppose it was crude dude-talk for "you better move it", not that I expect any better from that crowd. So I go outside to see three boom trucks arranged in the lane outside, along with the backhoe and a dump trunk, and four dudes in orange safety wear standing around. So I moved both my vehicles in the lane, which made perfect sense as how can they back a dump truck down the lane without serious consternation over avoiding my vehicle. Like WTF; a temporary 24hr no parking notice might of been a more reliable way of providing notice. But as everything here is arranged, including stalking my ass with boom trucks and dump trucks everywhere for 14 years, and anything else that scrapes or digs soil, why am I surprised. Said dudes were looking at their cell phones as I passed by, and one actually thanked me for moving the vehicles. I wouldn't call this episode rude-assed, but the dude on the phone did succeed in rubbing me the wrong way.

And this whole set up, per above mentioned phone call, was possible because I had a For Sale sign in my vehicle with my phone number on it. So perhaps this was the big perp deal; have the dudes in orange call me from across the fence from 40' away and then be seen in person only 5 minutes later when I had my footwear on. The perps just love these games; come to know someone over the phone (or nowadays, email or text or combinations thereof), over repeated interactions and then meet them in person at a later date. Now it seems, they are boiling this game down to one prior phone interaction.

People who wear orange freak me out. Worse yet, wearing orange and red. I had a stalker on my ass at the glass recycling depot on my butt wearing orange and red. And do I need to mention that the recycling depot is a prime stalking site?

I "happened" to see the landlord today as he was fixing the fence 3' from the gate I exit from, and asked him about the possible house sale. He said he was still thinking about it. I asked him why, and he said he just didn't want to expend the effort to keep the house up, and that he had been here 25 years. He didn't mention that he had other rental properties, which of course would take time to manage and fix. And he mentioned that the pool maintenance was an issue. I said maybe he should just fill it in and he countered with some lame assed excuse about devaluing the property. Then he attempted to sell me on the fact that a new buyer would keep me for a tenant. Yeah, for sure, as in how can anybody know that? Anyhow, the whole thing seemed so fricking lame. Or perhaps this whole thing is just to game me, as they could of kept the appraisal reason secret so not to cause me to start looking for alternative accommodation. Or else the landlord is getting old before his time. I will stick with the lame assed diagnosis for now.

A short look on drugsdotcom last night at the side effects of tamsulosin and I see back pain listed. Like WTF; I visit a GP, urologist and a prostate cancer oncologist over the last three weeks and not one of them suggested this might be the cause of ongoing problem of pelvic and back pain. What does it take to get a modicum of clinical competence?

The 2017 HD motorcycle noise barrage has begun. The neighbor across the lane started a HD motorcycle noise campaign two years ago, and is now starting on HD Noise -Year 3. Why they need to run the thing in his backyard for 30 minutes is beyond me. Drive it away! But that is not the point; make the noise and piss off the victim. To date, I have found no historical abuse history related to motorcycles; nothing in any of the literature, the most revealing being "Thanks For the Memories" by Brice Taylor.

I had a look at the last remaining possible link in the above mentioned audio problem, the cable that connects the source to the amp. I swapped another one in, and lo, the L channel worked. I unscrewed the barrel of the connector and lo, the internal solder joint was broken. Like WTF; it worked fine for the last 11 months, it was not disturbed, pulled or torqued, and the wire is crimped onto the bracket so there is no stress on the soldered joint. Perhaps it is perp-speak for "get new interconnects" (wires). Given their interest in all wiring and related connections, why am I not surprised.

And while winding up an online financial transaction to purchase new interconnects, why, the dreaded HD motorcycle noise starts up from across the lane. All this in 1" of snow that just fell. Then a forced piss to top it off. Been there, done that.

Did my income tax return, online mostly. The latter qualification refers to the abominable software not having a functional auto-fill for the income tax information. Had it worked, all my employment details (six employers) would of been loaded into the tax return instead of the usual shit of printing them, and then manually entering them, yet again. Another "de-feature" straight out of the perps' book; cost the victim 1.5 hours of extra time and all the attention it needs to re-copy information from one screen to another, via print out. And better yet, bait the victim by naming and identifying a very useful feature that is disabled or crippled. I will have to talk to Simple Tax about that.

And so, when I was about to make a donation to Simple Tax, why, the HD motorcycle noise starts up again. I have made only two online transactions today, the only two as I haven't gone anywhere outside, and in BOTH situations, the HD noise starts up a few minutes beforehand and continues while I make the transaction. I stopped listening to music until this infernal racket is done with. And have I identified this perp habit of stalking and noise-stalking financial transactions ever since this blog began in 2006? At least once per month for 10 years now. And it was immediately apparent when this insane abuse started up in 04-2002; these operatives would suddenly arrive beside me while making a financial transaction (aka purchasing) at a store. And the operatives doing their usual stupid thing; back turned to me, or pretending to shop bent over.

And to add insult to injury, the perps locked up the mouse and obstructed making the above mentioned payment, so I had to reboot the browser to get it back, and too, that engendered  protraction of the HD motorcycle noise. Funny how this shit "happens" with such consistency.

A visit to the supermarket this Sunday evening; a whole 5 customers in the store, and they took turns hanging around me for no seeming reason; the "usual" dumbstruck (aka, just-stand-there) shopping stalk I have come to know at every trip. Plus the drip shit hanging outside the store for no reason, and still there 20 minutes there for no seeming reason. Normally they have the vagrant acts do this as they have an excuse for loiter time, but as this was inside a mall, I suppose they defered to the more obvious Fuckwit stalk.

Another cursor disappearance to contend with again, so time to call this one done for the week.