Sunday, July 30, 2017

Beautiful Inhale

"Beautiful inhale" is the term the new yoga instructor frequently uses for taking a deep breath. She is young and bubbly, always smiling, a bit like an effervescent hippy girl of long ago. I don't particularly take to those who are constantly smiling as I find this rapport at odds with my own persona. (Like, is she crazy?) I am beginning to warm up to her, and it helps that she is as lithesome as she is well proportioned. And blonde and young. Such is the male mind, totally distractable by the female form.

Though the perps do love to plant people who first seem objectionable in some aspect, and monitor me while I later re-evaluate my opinion of them.

Another day of tucking vines, and it seems I got a break productivity-wise, as the second varietal has a more vertical growing habit, and doesn't need the degree of effort to get them erect from flopping down.

Another skunk at the walk-in doctor's office, same as Saturday. The perps plugged it up enough that their "quota" of patients was exceeded by 1515h. In this realm of state managed medical care, they allow full reimbursement up to 80 (?) patients a day. After that, the state only reimburses the doctors by half that. Ergo, this clinic shuts down after the prescribed number of patients at full reimbursement. The perp assholes choked the place two days ago on Saturday morning, and so I thought I would take the risk and try today, Monday afternoon. In the past I did not have a problem at this time of day, but now I do. Thanks a bunch.

And predictably, the last pill of selegiline was this morning, so I will go at least a day without it. Which fits the pattern of perp fuckery; constantly messing with my supply of medicine or supplements so I end up skipping them when I had absolutely no intention to do so. No good habit goes unpunished (unsabotaged) or useful medication goes undisrupted.

And what was the deal last night, when the perps kept me up for at least three hours before they let me sleep? The usual tossing and turning, mostly the latter. And a new stunt; I was in a light sleep and the assholes portrayed an ant crawling around in my "vision", or more like visual cortex. I immediately jumped, as I have been inundated with ants for months now, and I nail every one. They even had ants crawling on this here LCD display a few months ago. And it seems a new hatch is out in the kitchen now.

I worked two vineyards today, about 3 km apart today, same employer. I suppose that isn't too different from last year when my employer had a vineyard 5 km away from their winery site vineyard where I reported most days.

Then I stopped work an hour early to go to the naturopath, and I am always a bit circumspect as she is so vague at times. My iron is low she says, and then doesn't have anything to offer as to how to fix it. Then, for the protocol she said she would develop for my upcoming radiotherapy for prostate cancer, all she showed me the page from a naturopathic oncology book for crissakes. Then I mention the methylation topic she introduced me to last visit, that went nowhere.

Eventually I had to promote the IV vitamin C therapy she offers, as part of preparing for radiotherapy. She wasn't adverse to doing it, but gosh, I expected her to be little more with it. I never did get a baseline plasma vitamin C level test from her last visit, so this whole deal doesn't have a quantifiable start or end state.

In the orchestrated juggling of clinical events, the above IV vitamin C "happened" during the two day span of not taking selegiline. No coincidence that considering the insane fuckery that goes on manipulating the "forgets" over taking supplements and planned "shortages".

I finally got into the walk-in doctor today, who wasn't too moved to offer an alternative, as the selegiline is giving me tingling toes. This guy seemed a little more professional than the last time, as I mentioned that a dopamine shortage is manifested in a number of ways, and listed some, and he just stared at me. This time, on account of the tingling toes, more blood tests. Anyhow, he did say the shrink I am to see in September is "on top of it", and also offered that he is "thorough". So maybe, a real doctor that knows something about dopamine is in the offing, though I am not going to hold my breath, as I consider them to be constrained by the perps, and by way of past experience, have written them off as the Liar's Club.

Post IV vitamin C today, and I feel better. It was 34C today, and I felt fine. Though the perps did add some adverse fuckery games while tucking vines; scrambling me as to what wire (# 2 or 3) I am working on, as we are putting both up, after dropping each. Another trick they like to do is to cross them up, to create more angst and confusion as to which wire is what. And too, this adversity "blows up" near row ends, their favorite place to add more adversity, outside noise, and of course, the gangstalking co-workers who "happen" to be there. Have I beaten on the theme enough, that the perps are obsessed over any direction changes I make, seeming to fit with changes of energetic anisotropy they so like to remotely monitor. Even the crew boss' dog is in on it.

At the Rx counter at the LD store, a wacko stalker comes up behind me and says "nice legs", presumably in reference to my own tanned and waxed legs. I look at him like he was nuts, and just when I am about to enter my PIN number, he flicks his arm out and crouches low for some mysterious reason. I look at him again, like he is really nuts.

As it "happened", the pharmacy tech at the counter thought the "nice legs" remark was directed at her, even if her legs were hidden by the counter, and responded in kind. If I couldn't see her legs how could the Fuckwit behind me do so? Anyhow, I finish my transaction on the debit card machine and wander off. In a few minutes, while at the second cashier at LD, I get a call on my phone, but of course I wasn't allowed to answer it as the ringing stopped as soon at I touched it. (Usual phone answering sabotage). Later I review the message at home and it was the pharmacy tech, explaining at length as to how embarrassed she was at responding to the "nice legs" comment from the Fuckwit wacko (my term), who she thought was with me for some perverse reason. I phoned back and got another pharmacy tech, and conveyed my observation that there was no need for embarrassment etc. All too strange, and of course timed for that very moment of intense perp fuckery, making a financial transaction.

More boring vine tucking in the heat; "only" 32C today. Plenty more mind fuck games over the tucking; e.g. what trellis wire belongs where, and finding out if they are crossed, laterally, or vertically. One row had me infuriated for at least 30 min. Then it was lunch time, and lo, some 30 minutes after lunch, they started that shit up again.

Another blood test today, the second in a week. Obviously the IV vitamin C, and restarting selegiline after two days off is a big deal. Though, I have a sense the perps can withdraw blood from me by teleportation means anytime they want. As to why they have me go through the conventional method is unclear to me. Perhaps they need more mortals to come in contact with my blood, say, handling the test tubes. The usual gut strut stalkers in there;

A day off, Saturday, and one that became food acquisition oriented. The farmer's market, a major gangstalk scene as it is such a clusterfuck, though less so when I go early. I had a male bun-head with a major tattoo attack down his arms hounding my ass. The regular stand I go to was staffed with the regular woman, who for the first time in two years, put on a very friendly persona today. She has always been a bit cautious, if not furtive, but not unfriendly. But this time she put on a big smile for crissakes. Funny how I get these personality transformations all the time, which I did before all this shit rained down on me in 04-2002.

Then to the new-old specialty grocer, now changed hands, as it was a Penticton landmark for over 40 years. And lo, with the new points system they now have, the cashier addressed me by my first name. Under the old ownership, this never happened, even with their own points system. Since the cashier worked under the old ownership, this was (to me) quite the transformation.

Then onto hiking, and my tanning plans came to little, even after packing the 2kg portable cot in my pack. There were bear sightings posted and I didn't feel like going to the more remote area by myself. Just maybe the perp's planted this anxious notion, something they are long practiced at. Then after the 2 hour hiike, onto the adjacent farm store where I picked up my pre-ordered 3lb of basil. The cashier was chatty and pleasant, another case of persona change going back some four years. It was last year she became friendly, which has continued. Again, these persona changes seem to be arranged over long periods, and for whatever reason, though under the rationale of habituation, they change.

And my evening plans to join my work-injured colleague came to naught; he claimed he wasn't feeling up to it in a text I received when I was halfway down the hill during my hike. Perhaps he got the word to beg off from the perps, who made some kind of determination after I spent my lunch in the sun. The assholes also had me "forget" to take a spoon or a fork, and with no substitutes, so I had to use my fingers. For someone who loathes a mess on my hands, the assholes got me big time.

This eating utensils fuckery has been going on for over two years now, and I am getting severely pissed about this. These "forgets" over bringing my titanium fork, spork or whatever have got way out of control. Sometimes as a result of a forced "forget" I have a knife, and scoop lunchtime food with the back edge of it. Then the fuckery advanced to the point that I had to borrow a fork from the winery at work, this year and last. So to prevent more inconvenience, I keep a spare utensil in my regular day pack and vehicle glove box. Today, the assholes had me take my large back for the portable cot, which turned out to be a ruse (per above), which does not have any spare utensil set in it. So I was caught out, and had no knife either. So what in the fuck is it that is so important to the perps over what eating (or food preparation) utensils I use? And this insane bullshit for over 15 years as part of their targeted relentless abuse and harassment program all because they don't have the gumption to show their face and declare their intentions. I just don't understand how such a large and pervasive organized with unlimited funds could be so fundamentally rigid over keeping me, and other TI's, as kept human lab rats over this principle of non-declaration. Like who are they fooling?

Sunday, but a working day at a part time vineyard, doing S side de-leafing. The perps had me "forget" to bring my water bottle today, so I had to settle for cup fulls from the outside hos bib. The "cup" being my lunch container, usually for pecans which I had to eat first. Another forced "forget" was the selegiline medication, not taking it with my breakfast, my usual routine. Another forced "forget" was my current habit of preparing my vehicle for a hot day while parked; I always open the windows a crack and put up the reflective wind shield on the inside. I have been doing this every hot day for months, and I "happen" to forget? At lunch time I made the trip to the vehicle to put all in order. But why?

Anyhow, the perps have ground me into a rage-fied state tonight after a day of working outside in the heat, scrambling my usual prudent food preparation habits. Enough of this pedantic trivia, and onto posting this for the week.

Sunday, July 23, 2017

New Job in Mid-Season

Another smokey hazy day, as there are so many forest fires here in BC. None locally, but the smoke does carry, and then sit in this Okanagan valley. Which also means it limits the amount of solar radiation. What would of been a hot day of say, 32C, is only some 28C. The perps love sunlight and heat games, and I suppose they are up to their usual tricks of "local dimming" again. Two years ago there was plenty of smoke haze in the valley, comparable to these past two weeks.

My third consecutive day at my new employer, mainly a vineyard operation, though I see they have a winery that is just completed. I am working on my own for the most part, though the boss lady does come by every so often. Goodness knows why the perps needed to cycle me from a 6 person crew situation of five months, to a work-alone situation for two remaining months of the vineyard season. But as they have had me in a near work-alone situation for the past five years, save last year with one co-worker, it is all the more curious as to why they had to revert to the former situation. But it seems they had this one planned, with Difficult Dick at the last employer rounding on me 4x to come across as a rude-assed deranger. The boss man there did not ask as to why I was leaving. Funny how that "happens".

A hot day in the vineyard, tucking shoots by hand. No reprieve (as in reduced solar intensity) from the smoke today, as it was relatively light. The assholes screwed with my vitamin intake again, this time "forgetting" me out of taking them at lunch, even if sitting in the bottom of my lunch bag and duly seen at the time. Within the hour I knew it, as the energy depletion fuckery came on, when I am just fine in the heat. And of course, more adversity comes on and the assholes make sure I get fucking pissed. (Or "pissed off" as we say in Canada).

Adding to the adversity, they fucked with my cable from the headphones to the player, so just when I had 285 songs queued from my very favorite singer, LR, why, there is intermittent channel drop-outs. Ergo, shut it down and go without any tunes while doing boring vineyard work for the rest of the day.

If that weren't enough, they added insult to injury, (a favorite perp timing), by trashing the zipper on the pouch that goes on my work belt, making my phone and DAP exposed, and of course (per perp adversity), ready to spill out. Ongoing relentless fuckery, one on top of the other, and timed coincidentally even if there are no contingencies

Continuing in this theme of stereo channel fuckery, my stereo at my residence has L channel drop outs, these being the new cables that replaced the ones that mysteriously developed a break in the solder joint.

A warm, but partially cloudy day in the vineyard; no smoke. Even a spatter of rain for 20 seconds after lunch, a favorite "gotcha" perp timing.  But that didn't stop the perps from arranging entertainment of a kind. Across the lake a fire broke out, and in time, that brought in the helicopter to dump water on it. All was duly timed for me to watch this at my 1000h break from my vehicle.

Another day of dull and boring tucking; the audio device fuckery was all about having me bring my home (usually) headphones into the vineyard, which are typically a PIA as the vertical earpiece posts hang up on the vine shoots. And then in the afternoon the DAP battery was depleted, so only a partial listening to LR.

This vineyard is closer to a busy road, so now the traffic noise has amped up; the usual parade of HD motorcycles, bad mufflers, hot rods, sirens etc. Even more noisy was first thing this morning, when three deer got in the vineyard and the owner chased them out in his ATV. Plus he made a few visits on his ATV to me to explain things. And then some mysterious low frequency noise, like a subwoofer aimed my way from 200m away for five minutes. All jolly good noise games while listening intently to LR, for whom the sun rises and sets.

The male co-owner came by at one point, and chatted briefly. It seems he wants me for next year's vineyard work. That is good to know I am wanted longer term. Presumably the radio-therapy cancer treatments planned this fall won't screw things up, nor any other introduced ailments, most of which seem to be focused around having a dopamine deficiency. I have beating on this problem for over 20 years, and with the exception of stimulant medication for 2.5 years, I have got absolutely no clinical traction. And for the record, the very effective (and no problem) stimulant medication was taken from me due to this insane incursion/invasion in my Seattle apartment in 04-2002 by what amounts to the Gestapo of the Fourth Reich. And they have gangstalked and harassed the literal shit out of me every since, and obstructed, if not directed, all my clinical care since. (And likely before too). So you think you live in a free country, the US or Canada? Not in my experience.

Saturday, and a day off. I attended to some domestic chores, replete with same color vehicle gangstalking. (What is it about taking glass to the recycle depot that so excites the perps to put on extra silly shit?)  I attempted a walk-in doctor clinic visit, but the assholes stacked it with at least 15 seeming patients lined up ahead of me. After a 5 minute wait that was going nowhere, I decided to bail on this ritual of getting swarmed at the door, and instead, purchase yet more chocolate at LD next door. Despite the new medication, me being there for a refill, it hasn't abated the chocolate habit. And I always know when my dopamine production is working as it should, as I don't crave chocolate. Its been rare these past 15 years of this senseless and relentless abuse and harassment. But the odd time, a combination of tyrosine and or phenylalanine will work. Then it dissipates in a few weeks.

Then off to a hike at McIntyre Bluff; no tanning today as it was cloudy, though warm and no threatening rain.

A straight day of vine tucking, the job becoming more adverse with each passing day. It seems the wires were raised, but no straightening or wire clipping was done, and the shoots could then fall down on each other. So, along comes me, and I get to straighten them up, and just two days ago they supplied the clips to pinch the wires together and keep them vertical.  I have been on this job for the past six days, and am at least three days from finishing this 4.5 acres.

And despite wearing short for the past four weeks, I see my leg tan has gone absolutely nowhere for the past two weeks. That is, it hasn't got any deeper, and my tan is stalled out at a mid-brown, and may have even diminished some. I just don't understand why the perps need to jack around with my level of skin brown-ess. But as they have been on a total brown color fixation since all this abuse began in 04-2002, why am I surprised? They seem to be holding my leg tan to a constant level. Or else they are jacking with my perception of color, something they have long been doing, as it seems from what I heard from an expert on the radio, everyone's perception of color is unique. Great; another reason to be experimented upon at substantial length, as if 47 prior years wasn't enough.

 This text editor is suddenly screwing up and is time to bail.                                                                                                                                                   

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Meet the Oncologist

Actually, I met him before, but I had a whole lot of more questions to ask. He seems personable and reasonable, though I have come to distrust doctors significantly more since this insane abuse began. In fact, my vexations with doctors was already considerable after four in succession blew me off over not having ADD. I got a SPECT scan which said exactly as I told them; ADD-Inattentive subtype. Hard to believe that one could find such a serial and seamless array of ineptitude per random chance. (one was even a recommendation of an ADD group). And considering I wasn't well, it is even more of an outrage they fanned on any diagnosis. Then I am well for 2.5 years on stimulant medication (read, dopamine agonist). Then they arrange a barrage of insane proportions in my apartment (04-2002) to then herd me to hospital at gun point for no seeming reason. Then they take my medications away and feed me ones (doctor prescribed) that make me worse, (read dopamine antagonists). The minute I got out I dropped their medications and felt better right away. To repeat my oft asked question; what is it about my dopamine state that is so important to an insane nonconsensual human experimentation project such that they relentlessly abuse me for 15 years from the shadows?

Of course, no stimulant medications were allowed since then. And now, I have prostate cancer, and lo, if low dopamine isn't implicated based on my research. Thanks a bunch assholes. Then the fuckers block my recent attempts to get back on dopamine agonist medications. The referral "happened" to get lost by fax, and it took 3 months to get it resent. And maybe the referral doctor will turn out to be a big nothing and jerk my ass around. So... my aversion to doctors, and doubt of their clinical competence (or true intentions) is from experience. God knows what they did to me in the recall blanked years, aged 2 to 5.

Back to the oncologist; a one hour drive to Kelowna, and I had my landlord somehow end up driving in front of me for the first 3 km. I set off, stopped to fill the tank, in front of an extra array of backed up traffic, then set off and lo, he "happens" to end up in front of me with his red truck. Eventually he turns off, and lo, if the motorcycle escort crowd doesn't then materialize, and I get rotating motorcycle stalking for at least a quarter of the trip in both directions. And extra red colored vehicle stalking.

A cute receptionist at the cancer clinic left her post at the central desk to deliver me an Ipad to answer a visit questionnaire. Then another, shorter and more slight framed cutie (nurse) came to collect me and take me to the exam room to then ask me more questions. Her hair seemed to be a distraction, per mind fuck games. It was swept to the back of her head with a "spike" or "spray" of it projecting out high to one side. That relieved the visual severity of her hair being swept back only, usually in a bun. For some reason, the perps love to present various female hair style variations, and also have men's hair emulate them. I have no knowledge of why they do this, save their constant and abiding female-male comparison games they so like to play. And even configure the odd stalker who is momentarily mistaken for the wrong gender. Hilarious; and its only been 15 years of this stupid shit.

Last day at the vineyard with the Difficult Dick, he starting up his senseless back and forthing again today, being quiescent after his ridiculous stunt of last week. Onto my new vineyard employer next week, so to leave Difficult Dick behind, though I suspect he will surface somewhere, perhaps on his motorcycle that he told me about.

And there is a strong drift of having motorcycle stalking of late; HD's parked on the street in every direction now (five) for days, and escorts when in traffic. Before all this crap came down, I would never see motorcycles parked on the street in residential areas, as it would be bait for them to get stolen at some point. I am told that a certain motorcycle group owns an HD dealership, and if they aren't reviewing their sales records to find them, they deploy scouts to note where they are parked. All the normal precautions of motorcycle ownership seem to have gone out the window to serve the greater gangstalking need. I have yet to figure out why the perps do this, but they are very consistent once the weather gets better.

We moved to three different varieties of grape in the course of vineyard tucking today; such is always of interest to the perps, changing locations and varieties. Though for the last two years at my former employer, the varieties would change in the same row (no location change). And of course they would screw me around by having me not notice at first.

Changing voice in the same book has always been a fascination for the perps; co-authors writing different chapters as one example. Another is from the non-fiction work, My Secret Sister, about twin sisters who were separated at birth, one adopted out, the other staying with her birth mother. Each wrote different sections, with one of them being much abused by her step father, while her mother was of no assistance. And to complete the list, I just finished reading Gone Girl, a novel by Gillian Flynn, each chapter alternating in the voice of one of the two protagonists. And so what is it about books of multiple authors that the perps so like me read? Of course, the last mentioned book is the same author, but in different voices.

Halfway through July, and a day off to attend to errands. After last night's screw up of going to the part time vineyard and finding the owner did the rest of the work, why, another screw up today with another part time employer. (To be full time beginning tomorrow). She didn't tell me which vineyard, so I assumed it was the one I was working at for the past four weeks. Not as it turned out, so one hour later and multiple texts, it was the other one. More FUD-ery it would seem.

The driving was crazy in town today with arranged traffic trains of 20 or more; and with one oncoming dick running a late yellow, and me just about to make a left turn, why, some fucking idiot runs the just-red at speed and I just about clobbered him. I have never seen something so stupid, save the near head-on collision the assholes organized back in about 2013. (Another was a lane change into my lane by the Fuckwit beside me, another one of those "I don't know how there wasn't a collision" stunts in 2010 or so.) This was when I was transiting from the vineyard to the Ford dealership to get extra keys made up.

The assholes had me "forget" and had me lock my keys in my vehicle last night. Normally they would let me know right away so to stress me out for longer and while in the store. Thankfully my landlady was in, and retrieved the spare set in my place and brought them to me. And thankfully I had my phone with me.

Then two calls from the hair salon an hour before my appointment, one about a change of stylist, another for a person not at my phone number, looking for Tricia. And while getting my legs waxed, I get a call, then a message, from the salon, for Tricia (again), who didn't show for an appointment. I was looking at the very person who was making the call, as the curtain "happened" to be open. And then looking at my cell phone while getting waxed. Good trick that. Just more FUD games as I see it.

Sunday, and starting at a new vineyard full time after getting fed up at the last one with the Difficult Dick seeming to round on me for no particular reason. And a small pay raise into the deal. I suppose this was all part of the plan, having me work with a crew of six, and now down to one or perhaps three in total. Right now, I am working on my own.

Anyhow, I shall get this posted for the week.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Seven am Starts

Independence Day, not unlike the Canada of July 01. As mentioned in the last posting I don't see much room for independence, as would any other TI.

We began this week with a 0700h start time in the vineyard, to avoid the heat of the afternoon. It helped some; it was to be 32C today, but never felt warmer than 30C by the time work finished.

It seems we will be losing two of the vineyard crew by the end of the week; a long planned departure of the NZ woman, and another guy is going to work for Value Village. That would leave four, and we are well behind on this arduous manual tucking. (Tucking the vines between the top pair of wires in this case.) Many vineyards have a simple means of getting the wires out of the way and then bringing them up at the right time to tuck (or keep) the shoots in a vertical position. But pushing them in by hand is for the birds as far as I'm concerned. Once, at an established vineyard, our crew of 10 tucked 30 acres over the day. I doubt if the six of us tucked an acre by manual means. There has to be a better way.

There was a better way to tuck the vines; what we did before. If one drops the top wire to the ground (after pulling the tendrils off, no mean feat), then puts the wire back on the post, one can tuck 20' at once, no individual handling of shoots. Except that my tucking partner, the Difficult Dick, didn't want to cooperate and our efficiency was much reduced. Still better than manual tucking thankfully, but it could of been a whole lot better. I never did see the crew boss all day today, and I don't think the others did either. As usual, the Difficult Dick did his backing and forthing, fussing and obsessing about getting every shoot just right, which is absurd for a small crew for 22 acres. Anyhow, it got good and hot, 32C, in the afternoon, and I was doing fine.

Then in the evening I worked for two hours at a part time gig, same place as last night when doing hedging.

A birthday to remember; Difficult Dick didn't want to cooperate, even if he wanted to work "together", even if he plainly said that the trellis wire method was much more efficient yesterday. He wanted to hand tuck the whole thing. Fine, I said, I will work your side when I am done mine, which is what I did, doing 3/4 of all the row tucking. That, or something else pissed him off and he spoke to the boss man who then drove around and told me to "cooperate" with Difficult Dick. I said we were getting tucking done 30 minutes faster using the wire raising method, the one the vineyard was designed for. He said to "cooperate".

When working up the row, I asked Difficult Dick what he minded about my tucking, but he wouldn't say. Then I asked him what he told the boss man, and he said, "he wanted to know where you were and I told him". Right; the boss man drives around to give me explicit instruction all on his own. Difficult Dick then said I should work alone, and I said we should surely each work with someone else.

Later, the adjacent crew told me the conversation between Difficult Dick and the boss man went on for much longer. On the way back at lunch break, I mentioned this to him, and then he got very pissy, and fessed up that I "was rushing down the row". Not that I was, and there were many, many shoots to pull above the wire. It is just that wire tucking is a whole lot more efficient. Apparently the boss man spoke with him at lunch. And lo, when with my new crew mate for the afternoon, there is Difficult Dick in the next row doing the wire tucking method, the very thing that he complained about to the boss (about me). I had to laugh, and bite my lip, and refrain from asking if he was "rushing". Oh so tiresome, working with a Passive-Agressive liar, grump, sandbag, tattle-tail (who got it wrong) and generally uncommunicative asshole. Anyhow, I decided that I didn't want to tip toe around this landmine of a passive aggressive grump for the next two months, so I quietly began inquiries about working elsewhere.

The perps kept me up last night with five rounds of painful leg cramps jus to rub in the above hassle of the day.

Two part time jobs today; smokey all day; a way of reducing the sunlight exposure and keeping the heat up during the day time.

I "forgot" my vitamins the the morning of the weekend's second day, which forced me home, as I felt an energy suck-down.

Then I was pummeled with planted notions of winning the lottery, because "some one in BC won recently" was on the radio. I had bought a ticket a week ago, but no, I did not win, and all those fantasized plans came to a big nothing. Are they really going to let a victim of abuse and relentless harassment have some freedom by having some cash on hand? No way, but they kept inserting ML imagery to help me spend it, or otherwise control the circumstances. How about leaving me all alone?

Another day of tucking. What was to be 36C today of unrelenting sunshine turned out to be a good part cloudy, with a spot of rain, and some 30C. I stayed out of Difficult Dick's way, and he out of mine. All day I was kept in a mode of processing yesterday's bullshit, even though I had long consigned it to him being an obdurate asshole. The unanswered question remains, "what was that all about?" That was the fourth run-in with Difficult Dick, and that is on the basis of avoiding him since I began the gig in 02-2017, based on prior information from last year. In all likelihood, this whole tempest in a teapot was set up then.

Busy working three jobs of late, soon to be two. The part time weekend vineyard wants me full time so I can now leave the Difficult Dick behind. The boss man didn't seem too perturbed about a week's notice when he is already down two workers, both leaving for other jobs. Nor did my planted scheming to tell him about the cumulative travails of Difficult Dick arise. I kept it straight, cool and innocuous. And of course he didn't ask why I was leaving, an obvious omission of genuine interest.

Anyhow, I best post this before I get any further behind.

And I see "local dimming" has come on for the past three days. Hot weather, but limited sun because of the forest fire situation in these here parts, some 240 of them concurrently. Nothing too local, though an near-completed apartment complex burned down in Kelowna. A small fire there, and bigger fires elsewhere. The perps love a good fire, and the more the merrier. Two years ago they pulled this shit for a week or two in the summer.

Sunday, July 02, 2017

Power Failure

A power failure after putting all the soup ingredients together in a pot on the stove. Maybe the soup was on for a minute or two, but it was not mixed up yet, nor blended which is what I usually do to get a puree type of soup. Why the Psychopaths needed to pull a power failure at this juncture I don't know, but they do love to mess with me when mixing foods. So perhaps this was an extended "hold" before it all went in the blender and got truly mixed. But also, the perps have a bizarre need to name-drop "soup" all the time, so maybe this was more of their silly games over this particular subject.

For some 30 min. it all sat there while I read about extra-terrestrial contact between the US Navy and the Nordics, as well as the competing alliance between the Reptilians and the USAF, CIA etc. Apparently, the FBI also aligns with the Nordics. It is well documented in the book "The US Navy's Secret Space Program and Nordic Extraterrestrial Alliance" by Michael Salla. He of Exopolitics, who expect/hope that the US government will publicly declare the existence of these associations. Dream on; its been nothing but subterfuge and deceit for a very long time, so why would it change? Even President Trump is touted as a breaker of this log jam, though I doubt it very much. He looks so very Reptilian himself, even as keeper of the governmental gong show that is unfolding of late. Didn't someone tell him that the Russians are aligned with the Nordics?

Back to Dullsville; tucking in the vineyard today, and it was forecast to be a all-day sunny day, but lo, if a rain storm didn't come down the valley at about 1400h, and send us running from the bottom of the vineyard uphill, to our vehicles to close their windows. Then to don a rain coat as the rain kept up, and then it got cooler later in the afternoon. And run I couldn't; just no gas, so I suppose my ferritin is down again after it got boosted with an IV in 09-2016.

And I see that someone entered my place in my absence today, and moved the slider on the switch for the overhead lights that I installed in 01-2017. Or else there was some other peculiar and unconventional method they used. This follows from three days ago when someone entered my vehicle, searched through the glove box, door pockets and other stowage nooks, seemingly to be looking for something valuable. Almost unbelievably, they overlooked the ashtray-like stowage at the base of the center console and missed some $5 in coins I keep there. Are the perps really that obvious, or do they send in an utter bozo in their place? Don't know, don't care, just leave me and my vehicle the fuck alone.

Friday, and it was warm, about 30C in the vineyard. All day tucking shoots into the trellis wires. The arrangement was that I worked with the NZ woman for two hours, then the Difficult Dick, and then the NZ woman in the afternoon with the Difficult Dick hovering around in behind me. Why he didn't go to the other end of the row and work with his uncommunicative co-worker is beyond me. So yet again, this alternating arrangement for me to work with a woman, then a man, and then the same woman again. Haven't we done these same games at the checkout so many countless times? They are putting on more males at cashiers of late, a break in the long standing practice of female only.

One worker left for the long weekend yesterday, and another had to take the afternoon off to move his belongings. Just two pairs working the tucking today. But at least I had someone to talk to in the form of the NZ woman. The Difficult Dick can have his terse moods at times.

Canada is 150 years old today, though I don't feel like celebrating knowing that it is a police state in disguise given my experiences. All that started a little over 15 years ago, in Seattle USA, but the Canadians are also full measure in keeping up this relentless abuse and gangstalking. I was driven into hospital at gunpoint, force given drugs that depleted my dopamine and made me substantially worse, and kept there for 5 fucking months. Meanwhile, the operatives, in the guise of patients, were stalking my ass around every corner and especially at the elevator and at meal times. And if you think I had any direct part in it, think again, or else read my Essential Introductory Postings for a primer (one page version) on what it is like to be kept as a nonconsensual human experimentation victim. Yes, one's world turns upside down when doctors are criminals and the police violate the law on behalf of the Psychopathic Confederacy. Slowly one begins to see patterns and suspects that so very much more in the world seems orchestrated and arranged. Anyhow, it is all a bummer story, and I will leave it at that.

A work get-together in the evening at the vineyard, for tasting room staff to meet the vineyard staff, and the owners were there too. The owners are people of significant influence; they have had a premier and a prime minister come by. Two of the tasting room staff didn't introduce themselves so I have no idea what their names are, both young, female and cute coincidentally. Only three of us vineyard grunts showed up; two are coupled and SO's weren't invited and one is away for the long weekend. The crew boss man came for a while, as did the tractor driver. One by one these folks left the party, and I remained the only vineyard person with the tasting room staff and the owners. Then a SO woman came with horrendous tattoos on her L arm, and lo, if she didn't sit down at my table with her L arm facing me. We chatted for a while, and the owner came too and joined the conversation. All was well and amiable.

At one point in the party, the owner (male) made a 25 minute presentation on the history of property and his intentions as to what he is attempting to achieve in winemaking. All the while these blackish maser dots and patterns floated around his head or else dropped between me and him. It was getting very distracting, trying to look at him and these blackish dots and wispy filamentous trails were around him. No doubt everyone else saw them too, but didn't say anything of course. This guy is a serious high achiever and a very personable one, so why he became my "maser mate" I have no idea. I am attracted to high achievers and movers and shakers, but only ethical ones, and he has my utmost respect, if not admiration. Whether this fits some perp experimental progression, I have no idea. Interestingly, my employers of the last two years were also high achievers, also ethical ones, but were rather impersonable. Don't ask me how all this fits the perp plan, but it is interesting the perps love me to meet business owners, building landlords etc.

In all of the banter of the party, it was clear there were a few planned topics; cancer and prostate cancer (which I have, but wasn't revealed to anyone there so theoretically they don't know I have it), some friends who have died recently etc. The meal was pizza, and lo, if I didn't "forget" that I should not be eating cheese on my current medication, and lo, if I didn't "forget" that I avoid gluten based foods, i.e. the pizza crust. All went well and I did nothing to distinguish myself and was the perfect guest as far as I know.

And lo, if I didn't wake up clogged and fogged and very sinus congested. Only after a half hour of waking time was I allowed to associate my condition with last night's pizza dinner. I have the experience to figure this out right away, but all my normal faculties are so messed with that my new normal is plain abnormal.

I worked this Sunday at the weekend job site all by myself, as it is a post-Canada Day "recovery" day. It was hot out, and I am still tired this evening. I am still getting bombarded with notions of going to LL for proton beam therapy, despite the fact that I don't have anything like the needed funds, some $86k. Why I get stiffed with undoable notions for 10 months, all related to making such a trip and getting such treatment I have no idea, but pummeling me with planted thoughts is nothing new.

Anyhow, time to post this for the inter-web and call it a night.