Sunday, November 26, 2017

Enforced Delays

More of the forced delays in getting on with things of late. I don't know why the perps like to cause delays when needing to attend to something, but they do. As if it wasn't enough to have my father as a constant dithering dipshit all his days. Me, I am the opposite; if it needs to get done, get on with it. Even this long running disposition is getting hacked more of late. The prematurely worn clutch in the vehicle "needed" to be inspected by the dealership which was a 10 day delay, and they hacked me into waiting for this determination before they let me get the parts online at substantially cheaper than locally. Then, with some overlap before the parts came, they let me check out an independent mechanic who is $335 cheaper on labor, but had a two week wait. And lo, two days before the appointment, the vehicle's clutch is getting too worn for the 180km round trips I make each week day for radiotherapy, so I am going to rent a vehicle for two days to tide me over. And I have had worn clutches before, and I know exactly what they are like, and know that they need attending to. That will be $108; so thanks a bunch assholes; just when I thought I could save $335, I get screwed for $108 less.

But as the perps are so besotted with my vehicle color, and all those around me, it does not surprise me that they need to pull this shit every so often and have me use a different colored vehicle, along with all the other energetic properties of its manufacture; seat materials (and color), steering wheel, wheel rubber composition, steel source and factory location. I am sure there are a few hundred other variables the perps also evaluate with my contact with vehicles, and those around me, but with this radiotherapy going on each weekday, it does not surprise me that they want to change some things up. This is week 5 of 6, so I would assume it represents the nadir (high point) of what they hope to gain from this latest intrusion/treatment.

Then as if the above wasn't enough, there are a pair of winter gloves that I purchased from a reputable BC outdoor gear supplier. The first year of winter vineyard work taxed the gloves and the palm material shredded up on the L glove. These guys back their equipment, so what did I do? Nothing, as in the mind controlled "I". And for two years they sat around, and for that long I meant to get on with them and didn't. (Bought a different pair). And now that I am getting ready for some winter time pruning work, I finally get it together and email the warranty department, and they made an exception for me as the wear would be considered normal "wear and tear". I can see their point. And so why did it take two years to get on with this? I have no idea and it is entirely out of character. Which spells perp mind fuck meddling, as if I don't get enough of this shit.

There have been a few other exasperating fuck-ups of late, nothing major, but seemingly a series of incremental take downs. Some would call it old age, but I say, as long as those assholes are terrorizing me, its them.

Yesterday's radiotherapy had two male technicians unusually. (The technicians push, prod and otherwise position me accurately on the bed and align my markings with the lasers on the top and side). It was usual until two treatments ago that all the technicians were female. Then they inserted one dude with a female, and he was there yesterday with the new dude. Fine, no big deal for me, but as the perps just love to vary male and female interactions, especially when in physical contact with me, why would I be surprised, especially over a 6 week duration? I don't know how they manage all this or what inference to make, but today, it was one female and one male, the second one remaining, the first one was rotated out. Perhaps they sensed I didn't like the look of the first one.

I have no idea why the perps like to mix up the male and female interaction, but they constantly do. Even having a male cashier at the grocery store was rare until a year ago, now into 15.5 years of this abuse-athon and their slow motion nonconsensual human research agenda. And of course, noticed when this first began, they have the cashiers touch me when handing over the till tape reciept. Whatever.

Then the dentist appointment request was also delayed recently. I could of got onto it a week ago as the tooth next to the extraction void bled, no doubt a root break. It wasn't until yesterday in a sudden fit of getting on with things, (above mentioned glove warranty problem too), that I phoned the dentist. I got their answering machine, and lo, a day later they phone back and I have an appointment in two days. Not a huge deal, though the tooth is getting looser by they day, but yet again, another contradiction of my own disposition just to screw me around some me. Just leave me the fuck alone. I will do fine by own thanks.

And what is with the sudden increase of masers in my visual field as of yesterday, noted at the radiotherapy gamma ray device when they were positioning me on the table? More of these wispy black filamentous floaters, along with the round ones that dart about and have the unerring knack of tracking my visual field. And more of them as I type this out in front of my regular LCD display.

Ditto for the pit-lamping games of late. (Pit-lamping is the term I use to describe aiming headlights, (or other) at me. A term used for illegal night time hunting to attract game).  It wasn't enough to have me in someone's headlights from a half block away in the lane when I was about to enter my vehicle. Then they decided to pit lamp me from the W, the direction when I drove off to radiotherapy, at least twice in two successive days at differing times. This from a parked vehicle in mid block on the opposite side of the street. "Not enough pit lamping" said the abuser-in-chief, so they added another pit-lamping vehicle from the W side, this one on the same side of the street as I made the turn out of the lane. And of course, some 80 km (each way) of highway traffic (99% with headlight on) to follow. So yes, the number of Fuckwits sitting at the curb or in parking lots with their headlights aimed at me has gone up at least 30% in the last 4 weeks.

The post radiotherapy treatment stalking has resumed its idiocy. After yesterday's appointment (after the weekend), there was the wall-leaning/lounging security guard outside the change room (four Unfavoreds; military look, gut, male, bearded) and then some hallway obstructing dithering dipshits. Today, another hallway obstructing stalker. Plus, I get the "round the corner" exiting stalker from the change room when just about to enter. I tell you, the perps have every hall, door, entrance and exit covered for maximum "pop out" utility, especially when a change in direction is necessary. (The anisotropic properties of the ether, or whatever interests them so much about my direction changes).

And a post-irradiative therapy vehicular confluence of tow trucks, a long common perp habit to populate unpowered and unoccupied vehicles past me. In a residential area, with one two lane throroughfare, they put on two flat bed tow trucks, each headed in opposite directions, inside of a block. Then a third flat bed tow truck preceded me through the intersection where I turned L. Then four blocks along, a fourth tow truck on Hwy 97 to precede me S bound. Three weeks ago they even put a city bus on a flat bed tow truck in the adjacent lane. I suppose it is also a way of elevating the vehicle too.

Yesterday's yoga was a little different. I go 15 minute early to avoid getting squeezed out, and usually I am the one of the first four yogis in the practice room. Not this time; I was 10th or so, and was relegated to the far SE corner, a location I sometimes end up in. Apart from a two regulars, and no males, it was all new female yogis. I haven't known of such a high turnover, as mentioned in past blogs. One of the sometimes regulars was Ms. Midriff, in her two piece outfit that maximizes her glam figure. Save the fugly tattoos up her arm though, but thankfully they put her in the front row, where she was placed to be in my sight line of the instructor. And so it goes; it is always some kind of Unfavored feature to be on display at yoga, sometimes singly, other times in quantity.

I picked up the white Nissan Versa rental vehicle this morning, and headed off to Kelowna. I wasn't too surpised to see more white vehicles around me, and too, more Ford Escapes, my usual ride. Some extra coverage when I finished changing; I had to walk between two standees in the path of the exit. In the waiting area the Fuckwit next to me just had to start wave his finger in my peripherial vision. Similarly a week ago, a Fuckwit next to me did the same thing. I just move on my chair and attempt to keep these distractions out of my view. But after doing that, why, today's Fuckwit "needs" to get up and cross in front of me and get a kleenex which he didn't need for more than two seconds and then takes it to the garbage at the other side of the room. All these endless feints and dodges around me, often about having a Fuckwit act up.

The weekly post-treatment meeting with the oncologist was an hour later than scheduled. Normally he is on time, I was told today he was on time, and he takes an hour while I sit in this room waiting. What was that all about; anytime something new erupts, like driving a Nissan for the first time in 40 years, things go silly.

Then onto the tool shop to get nitrile gloves as they have a good deal on them. No ordinary visit, as the sign shop repair guy was nearly backed into the front door, and had the red colored 12' long store sign panel dropped down and just missing the front door clearance. Said repair Fuckwit was up the ladder and on his phone when I entered the store, and when looking for a particular tool, why, he was inside too, pacing around while still on his cell phone. (Like shopping for tools while on the job? Give me a break). Then when I exited after my purchase, there he was again. Like WTF; the perps will stop at nothing to put on some extra stupid activity stunt just to stalk my ass, especially when exiting vehicle, and building egress.

Then onto the outdoor store to get my gloves exchanged. I had to go find them in the back corner to get a new exchange pair, and after some looking, with another Fuckwit there, no luck. I got some help, but he couldn't find them. Then a trip to the ski department where more gloves were there. Then another staff and another customer were added into the mix, also looking for gloves. Then the second staff guy informed my staff helper that there was a third location of winter gloves in the store for crissakes. Then him and the extra customer also "happened" to be there, seeming to be looking for the same thing for crissakes. Maybe 20 customers in the store total, and here we have all this senseless crisscrossing, stalking and extra attention over a particular make of winter gloves. All this over an exchange, me taking the beat-up pair in, and getting a new pair. And when filling out my name and address on the return, two pens fucked up, so the cashier puts some backing paper underneath, and finally on the fourth attempt with the two pens, it works. Perps love to pull these kinds of financial transactions and go silly when an item is returned. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, they pull out all the stops.

Thursday, and the last of the radiotherapy treatments for the week. One more day with the white rental car today, and plenty of accompanying action around me on the way there and back. Extra pit-lamping too; when getting in, and when getting out in Kelowna; in the latter instance two vehicles came to sweep or sit there with their headlights aimed at me.

Then back to town (Penticton) to swap back into my clutch impaired Escape, and take it to the repair shop where they have the afternoon and tomorrow to pull it apart, get the flywheel machined (if needed) and can put it together tomorrow. Which leaves me without the vehicle, meaning a 20 min. walk with all kinds of extra road traffic buzzing around me. I have done this walk before, and I even had a few lounging Fuckwits standing around for no seeming reason. I even had a Fat Fuckwit standing at the corner in mid-block when I made the final leg of my 15 min. walk from the auto mechanic to the dentist. Why this woman had to stand there looking at her cell phone when there wasn't even a plausible reason to do so seems like gangstalking to me, as I have come to know in the 15 years of this.

After dropping off the vehicle I went to the dentist for another tooth extraction, as the next-door root canal and crowned tooth failed, and the remnants needed pulling. At times she needed to lean on me for leverage, but with the right extract tools, she prevailed. Some $250 later I was done for my walk back. Same deal as last time; the dentist just screws off back into her office once completed. No follow through or at least, nominal professional interest to ensure the next steps are understood and/or farewell greetings. (All the more perverse as I don't get to see her face, for the mask and loup pair glasses she has on. And there was no other patients there.)

But there were dental care matters that needed attending to; after the tooth extract of 3 months ago, and by way of the dental assistant acting as an intermediary, I was to see a specialist by way of referral. I didn't hear anything, so today I asked what was going on and they said it went through, but they would send it again. Like WTF; why are medical referrals getting sabotaged now? This is the third time this year a referral has "disappeared", and I have had to go back and remind them that it didn't happen. And why is this vague hand-off referral system so wretched, now done electronically? A doctor says they will refer, and then they never bother to check into it that it has happened. In this day and age with email and electronic calendars, why don't they send the patient an email (or on paper) referral receipt that a has a note in bold saying something like, "if you don't hear by xxx date, then call this number". But no, that would be too efficient, remove more possibilities of error, and put the patient in charge to catch the missing hand-off. I have had three medical referrals this year; one failed and I never heard back, and a further two have failed, and had to be inquired about (by me) and re-sent. Three of three medical referrals fucked up this year. Hardly a coincidence. I wish I wasn't getting so pummeled health wise and wouldn't need to deal with this arms-length "throw it over the wall and see who catches it" system. Constant and relentless sabotage over every fucking thing I do. And normally I don't need medical referrals too often, so maybe the perps decided to go nuts on this item this year.

A shut-in day yesterday, even if it wasn't the plan. My vehicle was in for repair, and should of been ready, but lo, a head pipe gasket blew, or else was unusable, and they couldn't get one late Friday. They aren't open today (Saturday), so my vehicle is sitting in the shop all weekend.  Well done, and I half expected a fuck up when coming up against the weekend. The perps do like to move the vehicle on me, not being parked outside, as if it were some kind of color/object change up. It is parked 20' away from my residence on the other side of the fence, so they must be doing some kind of energetic testing. Recall, that the assholes put me through this shit back in February when they took out the power steering pump and its sensor, and the vehicle was parked in the shop for an overnight stay.

My local fickle friend came by in the evening to take me shopping for groceries as I didn't expect to be without a vehicle for the weekend. So he got to accompany me on my grocery shopping trip. In the spring, the roles were reversed as he had a knee injury and I accompanied him on his grocery shopping. Eventually, he did physical therapy in Kelowna for three weeks, just next door to the cancer clinic that I attend, now for the 5th of 6 weeks. Call it proximal stalking perhaps.

More too much wine again, something that seems to "happen" when he is here. Anyhow, he crashed on the floor for the night, and left in the morning. So one can assume he was to not only drive me, but to stalk me with my groceries home, and even even helped me unpack them. Unpacking groceries as well as food preparation seems to be a big thing for the perps.

Anyhow, enough of the boring details, and call this week done.

Monday, November 20, 2017

Half Holiday

With the Remembrance Nov. 11 holiday on a Saturday, this means that some businesses, and government, who are normally closed on Saturday, have decided to take the Monday off too. And as it "happened", the two businesses I went to in an attempt to get a quote on the clutch replacement. And in both instances, there was someone there. I call these kind of events, "skunks", as a consequence of dashed expectations. The business should be open, but isn't. Similarly, if I go to a store for a regular product, knowing where it is, and it is sold out, I also deem this as a "skunk. The perps just love, love, these set ups. As it was today, with extra stalking, extra disruption and prior annoyance in advance. So why is it they need to disrupt my existence so often, with such higher occurrences than before they went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002? I suspect it has something to do with a brain dopamine interaction at the moment of successful outcome, and they and their stalker assholes are on hand as some kind of bio-energetic shills/sensors to somehow record the event.

Last month at LD, they even moved the men's shaving products altogether, and when I went to the regular shelf location, it wasn't there obviously. I turn around to depart, and there are two aisle stalkers suddenly on my ass, one younger woman who caught my attention. So here we have a dashed expectations outcome again, but for a different reason; they moved the whole section of men's products, not "just" drawing down the supply of the particular item. But even this minor variation brings on extra stalker coverage for some reason. Why cannot these assholes just leave me alone, and quit obstructing my dopamine situation? (Which is already depleted because I have ADD, and the assholes blocked the very successful stimulant treatment I took from 2000 to 2003.)

No radiotherapy treatment today, a half holiday at the hospital I suspect, though one staff member said they were going to do a software upgrade over the weekend. Perish the thought, having worked in software, and of course, being at the butt end of Windows and other application upgrades. The most feared word in the Western world is "upgrade" these days, and for good reason. Even the Samsung phone upgrades are prone to stupid fuckery just to mess with customers IMHO. The notification of messages in particular; it used to be that every incoming message brought a notification ping tone. But not now; if the text message arrives with 5(?) minutes of the last text (same respondent), it doesn't ping now. And of course, no Settings to change the new and inconvenient imposed notification behavior. So why did they do this? Do they think that every one is sitting in rapt attention to the phone/text device for some pre-determined (by Samsung) amount of time? In my case no; I put the phone away and get onto something else. From what I can tell, it cannot be changed. Thanks for the upgrade Samsung, and I pray you never make gamma ray cancer treatment devices.

And what is with Windows and their Start button, which often flakes out? The Start button is everything; otherwise one cannot view or access one's applications software. Poof, its gone and the PC is hogtied. How is that for a self-destructive upgrade? Same for you Microsoft; do not ever make the base OS for a gamma ray cancer treatment center.

And a whole three weeks into Yahoo's mail upgrade, which I refused to accept, they stiffed me with the upgrade anyhow. As in no choice. So what was the point of asking me to decline the upgrade in the first place? Thankfully they didn't screw it up and functionality was largely kept with all the same visual cues. But after using email for over 30 years, often as in-house software, I really don't need an upgrade. But no, they think I do.

A serious tattoo line up at yoga tonight. Four of them plus me lined up abreast in front of the instructor, and three of them had serious tattoos down their arm. The only one who didn't, was the wife of the overweight male tattoo-ed specimen. Gross, or at least, I find it so, and this whole "tat attack" has been yet another part of the freak show the perps like to put in my face.

At yoga, about 12 yogis, of which two were returning regulars, the rest new. Again, I find it most unusual there are so many newbies each week, most of them don't look much practised in yoga anyhow. For some reason, the regular instructor isn't coming now, and the student fill in of last week is now the instructor. A most strange turnover situation of instructors, but whatever.

Another of my daily, (6 weeks total), trip to Kelowna for radiotherapy. Though today, their system upgrade kicked in for real, and the whole process was slowed down for some reason. Even a radiation oncologist (he said) came to apologize to all of us in the waiting room. Though I suspect he was with the company that made the radiotherapy equipment (at best), all dressed in a suit, as were a few other males. I don't know quite why, as shouldn't they be in some backroom somewhere working on software? Having these suits walking the hallway struck me as most odd. Perhaps it was a men-in-suits abreaction they were looking for.

For some reason the perps jangled me this morning, and I felt like I had two cups of coffee, when I didn't. Two weeks ago, I did, at the behest of the radiotherapy staff. Later today, I worked out, but felt totally useless, and walked on the treadmill for 15 minutes. So much for working out and boosting my dopamine supply. Besides, the gym seemed such a "herding show"; that is, placing Fuckwits around me all the time, some just sitting there in what I have come to know as "regular" gym behavior.

The perps seem to be on the rag today for whatever reason. They even went silly on my parking neighbors at the cancer clinic. That's my Ford Escape backed in, with a near color matched brown-tan sedan beside it, and lo, three same deep red colored vehicles parked around the Escape and the sedan. (Pardon the out-of-focus, as one can thank my tormentors for that, having a knack of moving my fingers at the critical moment).

I haven't seen this stupidity for at least 6 years, since I was in that holy gangstalking town, Victoria BC. The present record for same color surrounding vehicles, parked or in traffic is eight. That's right, eight deep red colored vehicles parked around me in traffic one time.

And just to make sure there was some black reference colors, why, these two were parked in front of me before I set off from the above scene. Looks like a white one was placed between them for color contrast. Those scary black vehicles again, somewhat muted by accumulated road grit. Its the low reflectance that makes them more scary, or at least to me, and possibly eliciting abreactions for a time that I was witness to such, but was memory deleted, (1956-59).

An early, 0900h, radiotherapy appointment today, meaning I had to get up at 0600h. For that, I got nailed with a two hour nap attack in the afternoon.

And what is it about smiles, and grimaces (countenances, or facial expressions) that are so interesting to the perps? This is the third week of Mon-Fri radiotherapy at the same treatment room each time. The regular staff know who I am, having seen me more than once. It is easy to pick out the patients there if they are outside the waiting room (in the hallway); they are either in the standard issue togs (blue and brown), have a toque on (if in chemotherapy), or if just arriving or leaving before they get changed, are packing the standard issue plastic white bag to carry their togs to and from the hospital. Anyhow, I was standing at the water cooler taking in water in the hallway, dressed in my togs, as I am to fill up my bladder, as required. One of the radiotherapy treatment technicians, a woman in her 30's, Ms. Cne walks out from behind me, and heads down the hall, some 100'. I recognized her build and hair from seeing her working with patients in the adjacent radiotherapy unit, as one waiting room serves both. One time she switched units, introduced herself, and got me set up on the table, aligned with the laser beams for accurate placement, as they do each time. She was friendly, smiled, but to be fair, she isn't an over the top gushy bubbly type. Getting back to the water cooler story, as I need to take in 4 cups of water, she comes back down the hall on the same track (inside of 2 min.), and as she nears me, I look at her, and she looks at me with this grimace, and no hint of recognition. Like WTF; is she on grimace duty or what? (Curiously,when she was on duty the one time, she was the only one who needed to rub some compound on my faint freckle tattoo on my front; over a week later, all the others still don't need any kind of solution to augment its visibility).

And then to contrast that episode, as I was leaving, a staff member who I had not seen before, and had no prior interaction with, smiles at me. (Recall that I am recognizable as a patient as I was packing the standard issue plastic bag). I smile back, and that was the end of it. Interestingly, I was near the said water cooler at that moment. So what are these managed countenances all about? Two of the three regular radiotherapy technicians now seem be friendly, having relaxed from their initial disinclination. The third, a younger tall woman, is still in evasive face contact mode. Whatever. It just seems so staged or else she has an severe anxiety problem.

Long term readers, and many TI's, will know that I consider my every move and breath to be choreographed, so seeing people behave strangely is to me, no matter how fleeting, is a managed event.

As an aside, where I get my water from, and in what drinking vessel seems to be such a big deal to the perps. There has been more than one stalker doing duty at the water cooler, just hanging around there for no, or little, seeming purpose.

I felt better today, not jangled. I recall the first week of radiotherapy that the radiotherapy treatment technician had me drink coffee, and I felt very jangled from that. So it would seem the perps are up to some kind of neuro-fuckery, and used coffee intake as the cover excuse. Yesterday, they dispensed with the coffee for whatever reason it seems. Though a cover excuse could be that I worked out at the gym yesterday, though by my standards it sucked. I couldn't get running on the treadmill for more than 3 minutes and had to back down to a stiff walk for a total of 15 minutes. I am getting governed down as to how much effort I can expend at work outs. Last year I ran for 22 min. straight after my iron infusion. "For some reason", I didn't do a running test after my iron infusion this year, 08-2017.

An early afternoon radiotherapy session today; all seemed in order. The oddity was that they sprang a male technician on me. I didn't know until I got into the treatment room, and there he was. He introduced himself, and offered his hand (none of the others did, all female), which I shook. Then he told me as I was getting on the bed that I was in the right spot, and I said that after three weeks, I think I have it figured out. He seemed the hyper type, not one to fuss the details, always a little disconcerting when one is being positioned precisely with lasers on top of the freckle-size tattoos they placed on me with such precision. Anyhow, I suspect the "diversity show" will continue as the radiotherapy technicians tour continues.

For the first two weeks it was a regular three some, though only two at a time, save two different E. Indian females, plus the above mentioned smile-compromised woman, Ms. Cne, all single time guest appearances. This week they are heavy on rotating others in; two different ones on T,W, one of whom only shows up at the end, which doesn't matter a whole lot as only one person is needed to move the bed laterally and lower it, and remove the calf support. Anyhow, being a regular, near M-F event, now at three weeks, and two more to go, I suspect that this particular TI Victim Tour will bring on more visiting variants. Say, male ponytails, male bob-jobs, more brown colored workers etc. But at least the tall young one, who is so face contact averse, finally did look at me today over wishing me a good weekend.

And I see they have cranked on another 1kg of body weight since two weeks ago. I started this deal at 87.8kg, then was 92.4kg, and now 93.4kg. I asked the doctor about it and he said all his prostate cancer patients gain weight. Well, thanks for telling me in advance. Now that they sucked me down barely being able to run on a treadmill, this is getting problematic. I suppose vineyard work will wear some of that down, but I must wait until February for that.

And the "usual" hallway scene when I was dressed and heading out of the change area of the gamma ray cancer treatment area. This time, three dithering dipshits strung abreast across the hallway, adroitly placed at the nexus of the hallway and the crossing path from waiting area to treatment rooms. If it isn't there, it is in the 60' of hallway, at the corner of the hallway and the main lobby, or at the doors to outside. Add on the "usual" pit lamping headlights when I am in the parking lot or in my vehicle, and then add on vehicular clusterfucks when attempting to exit a four way crossing. Then the odd swarm of street stalkers sometimes. Not all of these "happen" every day, but enough to tell me that this is arranged. One day they even put on a cancer patient whom I had seen twice in the waiting room, and there she was sitting at a bus stop three blocks away, on the side of the street headed to the clinic. Like WTF; she could of walked, or else she wasn't a real patient. My post gamma-ray irradiated lower body region state seems to be so interesting to so many people for reasons they don't wish to tell me. Go figure. After 15 years of being harassed up the asshole, stalked everywhere in this insane giant choreography around me, they still won't tell me. Whoever they are of course, but they seem to be hugely influential, and do seem to reward all those who take part.

And it seems that the week's end of treatment (Friday) is also ripe for extra perp stunts. Three weeks ago it was the car audio guy who fixed my car deck's problem by unplugging and then reconnecting it for crissakes, and then drove it whole 60' to the front of the shop. He didn't need to drive it in the shop, and for that matter, didn't need to drive it at all. Then last week it was the Ford dealership's transmission technician who (strangely) didn't want to test drive the vehicle, but had me drive it to demonstrate the clutch was failing. He was a little strange it seemed to me, as normally automotive techs just love to talk shop, and I love to hear it. This week, after negotiating extended vehicle trains all over town, I went to get my weekly salon tan. No interaction of others with respect to automotive repair of course, but there was the woman at the salon, with her daughter or daughter-in-law, and her grandchild. Anyhow, she confirms how many minutes, and I tell her, and she says to go right in. I get undressed and all, lie down, and she hadn't set the master switch. I get dressed, open the door, and yell out over the fan noise and the terrible AM muzak, and request that she turn on the switch, which she does. Like WTF; it is the second time she has pulled this shit, and she has been there for over five years, and is sharp as a tack. And the third time it has "happened" there. So maybe the whole deal was to rile me up, post irradiative treatment state. I give up; just leave me the fuck alone, and fill my bank account before you go.

Everyone else gets cash splashed on them for taking part, and for 15 years I get nothing but insane and sustained abuse, and cancer too. And I get stiffed with the most obdurate stick-in-the-mud Fuckwits this planet has every known, all my working life, long before this reign (or rain) of abuse came down 04-2002 and hasn't let up since. There should be a TI Victims contest, perhaps online, where we brag about what have been the worst abuses, the most vexing, damaging, etc., all kinds of categories could be arranged. Better yet, maybe in the form of a reality show, where we are on stage, and no planted shills to screw it up. Hope springs eternal.

Then a confluence of phone calls when I get back from the tanning salon; a work related one, and then the unemployment bureau was giving me a courtesy call. Like WTF; I haven't had any calls all week, and I get two inside of five minutes just as I get in the door, a favorite perp time to get me it seems. Along with other fuckery at that juncture; scrambling my fingers so I drop the keys, having me "forget" items to force a back-and-forth, jamming the door so make it difficult to lock etc. Building egress fuckery I call it. Though in fact, they often pull this shit when transiting between rooms; having me "miss" turning the light switch on or off is a specialty at these junctures.

Anyhow; I got sucked down into a grim mood last night, so I will post this now, Monday, 1300h, 11-20-2017.

Sunday, November 12, 2017

Post Gamma Ray Day

My prostate cancer treatment session (in Kelowna) was at 1224h today; I learned that it is gamma rays that they project through me after lining me up on the bed. I got the "usual" gangstalking weirdness on arrival. An ambulatory stalker was crossing the driveway path to hold me up at the three way intersection into the parking lot, and then made out to cross my path again, but dip-shitted in place. And as I cruised the length of this too-small parking lot, and found the only open stall of about 40, and pull in to park, why, who should enter the vehicle next to me but this same woman. The stalking when parking, exiting the vehicle etc. game has increased considerably of late, and no more at the cancer clinic parking lot having driven some 80km to get there. And too, the stalkers and putzers at the parking meter, and then more when I go through the double doors. This time it was an elder-duckie in a fedora who just had to step in the way of the sliding doors and block my egress. And of course this Fuckwit had go go through first. All abetted by the fact that the doors aren't opening as wide now, presumably because of the winter weather. At least 8 other bystanders on my way to the building wing, and then another pair leading me at a slow pace down some 20m of hallway. Why do I constantly get these loping aisle blockers ahead of me going down this particular building wing where the treatment area is?

[Slight misleading in the title; Mon-Fri is gamma ray day, not just today. I don't know how this title came to mind, and wasn't error trapped for veracity- these things "happen" more often now]

The featured vapid young woman called me to the treatment room, this time dressed in black as if it were an evening outfit. Normally she wears a white smock. Her helper was a E. Indian, brown skinned woman whom I had not met before, or perhaps in passing. Normally there is a blonde woman aiding the featured young woman. Anyhow, the whole deal was all done in short order, and I changed, and then headed out. A kiddie-stalk in the hallway as I made the corner, along with a hug. Regular TI's will know, bringing kids to help stalk the victim is de rigeur, so it appalls me all the more that they get dragged into this despicable life raping rampage that has gone on for over 15 years now.

And in keeping with the flush of stalking these days, a post-treatment swarm of 5 parties was all oncoming, heading to the hospital as I drove along the first residential street. Like WTF; I hadn't seen anyone here before, and now five parties, one of whom couldn't bring themselves to walk on the sidewalk, but on the street. It was good enough for all the others, so why not them, especially with a child in hand. So yet again, I had to hold up for the oncoming vehicle to pass before I could proceed past these dumbshits that could not walk on a sidewalk, which was a whole lot safer that the street as there was a 8' median between the street and sidewalk. I predict that there will be more "holdups" on the way out; either ambulatory and/or vehicular. A road accident is always a good excuse. Now 11 treatments of 28, so who knows what is going to erupt. I am sure the perps have been waiting this whole 15 years to hammer me with gamma radiation and see what they get from it in terms of the interaction with the myriad masers that float around me and above me while getting the irradiation treatment.

I had my usual assortment of vehicles on the highway, there and back; logging trucks seem to be a regular component of the stalking show. I don't suppose it is a coincidence that I worked in forestry for 20 years, though not logging directly.

Yoga tonight, and the instructor didn't show up, so a student took over. She did a good job in all, and there was about 16 yogis tonight, all women save one dude. There seems to be a dude rotation going on; new ones every week. Last week it was shirtless one; today's special didn't seem to have much of a clue about yoga. It seemed that at least 80% were new, so again, it just strikes as strange that so many new yogis come and then filter out.

No logging truck to precede me for many km today, but a truck hauling a trailer full of willow or dogwood plantings; 6'x10' trailer full of red colored stems about 3' high and the ubiquitous plastic cover over them, though a perforated one that didn't catch the wind so much. And yes, live and dead plant matter (cuttings and pruning in fact do contain live plant cells for a time), are often trotted out as gangstalking props. Not to mention they have kept me in farming and viticulture jobs for the past 9 years handling plant material, again, cutting, planting, pulling off excess shoots, thinning grape bunches etc.

The same two-some in positioning me on the bed again today; the featured young woman is a little more friendly with a little more eye contact. Today she was wearing a brown checkered shirt and black tights and her knee-high brown leather boots.

And the "usual" swarm of Fuckwits around me when imbibing water at the fountain, my pre-treatment routine to attain the full bladder requirement beforehand. Of them, one cutish 30 something woman was giving me the eye for crissakes. (I checked her out as she had the same height and build as the Good Doctor (of Kelowna), but she wasn't unless morphed over). Though I do find it so interesting that the majority of gangstalkers are gaze averse, save the odd cute female who gives me the eye, sometimes being 40 years younger than me.

Then "usual" loafing crew in the hallways post radiotherapy treatment today. Then the barrelling in of a white Ford Escape into the vehicle exit, by a granny no less. I waited out this egregious stupidity in my silver-brown Ford Escape. Then out of town along Hwy 97, and of course, the traffic is busy around me every day, though I have no prior experience to know if this this normal Kelowna traffic or not. I suspect not, based on two prior city's experience, and too, Debbie Newhook commented on the plethora of traffic around us when I visited her in Nanaimo back in 2010.

A morning trip to Kelowna for radiotherapy, then a consult with the oncologist afterward. Most everything is reasonably OK in the circumstances, and I am not tired yet. He tells me that weight gain is common among prostate radiotherapy treatment patients, to which I can confirm. I have gained 4.0kg since this began and am halfway through this week. Well... maybe it it because the gamma ray radiation is depleting the dopamine in the prostate region which then signals adiposity (fat deposition). I say this because dopamine mediates (perhaps, governs) adioposity and insulin activity in cells based on my readings of the scientific literature. And as dopamine diminishes some 1%/year on average after age 40 hence, middle age spread. The extensive body (non-Central Nervous System, or "peripheral", a usage I absolutely loathe) hormonal effects of dopamine are known in the main, but getting it to clinical practice will take at least 100 years IMHO. Never mind that methylation mutations, likely the root cause of so many hormonal disruptions (including dopamine), will not likely make it to conventional mainstream medical practice any time sooner. Dopamine agonists can work, but still only address the symptoms.

I have looked for gamma ray effects on dopamine but I haven't seen anything definitive in the literature online.

That the radiotherapy treatments are making me pee more often is also noted. Another effect of low dopamine, base on my readings of the non-motor symptoms of Parkinson's Disease, (a low and declining dopamine situation in the nigra striatum of the brain), is that is causes urinary problems, some 4 years ahead of PD. There is no PD in the family, so no worries there, but urinary issues, dementia and blindness all loom into duckie-hood (geriatric stage of life) based on my parent's life, so I am considerably concerned that my low dopamine state was totally blown off by the shrink in my visit (09-2017) in an attempt to get the longer term issues dealt with. Not only did I have a SPECT scan to back me up, but a 01-2017 dopamine urine test too. He didn't look at the scans, just the report, and didn't look at the urine test at all. Throwing "darts in the dark" is how conventional psychiatry is typified. I would add, "wilfully and indiscriminately throwing darts in the dark, and don't care to do better". In the case of my issues, the last visit amounts to wilful obstruction of treatment. Nothing new there when it seems that I have been monitored and messed with all my life, and the 04-2002 apartment invasion in Seattle and later fall out was designed exactly to obstruct getting better. As if 47 years of ADD wasn't enough, being raised by two ADD parents, and then when getting substantially better, why, the Pyschopathic Division of the SS of the 4th Reich arrives to take over, aka "R&R", Run and Ruin. Thanks a fucking bunch.

After a restless night last night, and getting up at 0600h, I got hammered with a 3 hour nap attack this afternoon. This is the rare instance where a nap attack has a valid basis for occurring. All my present notions of working out at the gym, and increasing my dopamine, keep getting diverted into doing squat. Did I also mention that dopamine has a huge impact on motivation? It does, big time; ask any PD neurologist.

Snowy on the way to Kelowna and back today, about 0C. Back to logging trucks on the highway near me, .........

A sudden word processing crap-out as I attempt to detail the following. A whistleblower (now a TI) from a security firm speaks about TI's, and estimates 1-2 million actively controlled TI's in the US at this video, (1h 17m) though I don't know his name, where his blog or other podcasts are. There is nothing technically I would disagree with and I find his presentation wholly credible. What is of intense interest to me is that his experience is from the city of Seattle and how deep mind control technologies are being applied there. Well... as it "happens", I lived there from mid-1999 to late 2002, so I would not be surprised that I was guinea pig in all of that, and how it is constantly refined. After all, 15 years later, they are still refining their methods, eliciting trauma responses and whatever DNA, energetic, color and all the systems in one's body.

Onto the mayhem of governance; not only do we have President Trump, despite  admiration I have for some of his policies, "acting" up and creating chaos in his belligerent fashion, we now have the power elite too. No less than George Soros backing the negroes and the multicultural schtick that is nothing less than a takedown of order and civic function, backing groups that have no interest in democracy. Ergo, the ridiculously named Black Lives Matter has his support, which by strong association is that of the power elite. All here at the Modern History Project, this link. He is also backing the "multicultural trashing of Europe". Well done George, and exactly what does that accomplish? War by attritional domestic violence perhaps (aka social chaos), as if we don't have enough of it here in the world. Recall my lessons from the perps; competence and civic normality is not allowed (for long). And the statistics are astounding;
Here are some urban crime statistics that speak for themselves. Who benefits from this?
CityBlack + LatinoViolent CrimeMayor
Oakland, CA25% + 27%5x national avgDemocrat
Stockton, CA11% + 44%4x national avgDemocrat
Chicago, IL32% + 29%3x national avgDemocrat
Detroit, MI80% + 8%6x national avgDemocrat
Memphis, TN63% + 7%5x national avgDemocrat
Baltimore, MD63% + 5%4x national avgDemocrat
Cleveland, OH51% + 11%4x national avgDemocrat
St. Louis, MO48% + 4%4x national avgDemocrat
Atlanta, GA52% + 3%3x national avgDemocrat
(Stats as of 2014 from
One has to wonder where it is all going, as if remote neural monitoring, population control and gangstalking and harassment wasn't enough, now increased social agitation (e.g. bused-in protesters), traumatization and chaos.

Saw Lisa Brokop at the Dream Cafe tonight, seating capacity 120. What an awesome show, and an awesome performer. For now at least, I have faith in humanity. And nothing like a great entertainer live, especially her good humor and uplifting grace. Beats youtube and other online recorded video anytime.

At the show I had my usual preponderance of Fuckwits hanging at my back, because the aisle was behind me. Normally they have me up against the far wall and people pass in front of me, which of course brings other harassment issues. And there was the return of  the rather unsmiling (though attractive) voluptuous waitress of two visits ago that kept banging into me without apology. She in her tattoos creeping over her chest, as seen in the same low and wide cut top. Not that she said hello or anything this time, but just needed to hang around me lots, she still has a large ass, parked 4" from me while bending over at the table next to me. Even if it wasn't her table, as it was the Asian waitress' table area. Whatever; still, a great show.

And why the stink of raw diesel fuel when I step out of my vehicle now? (It runs on gasoline). No spillage that I can see, and if there is a conventional source, it must be from the neighbors over the fence.

Remembrance Day here in Canada, a national holiday. A shut-in day too. And kept busy by ongoing re-reads of JFK assassination books and some supporting YouTube videos. In fact, this whole retrospective has been going on for the last two weeks, and hopefully is now done for whatever perp mind monitoring (information meme patrol) objective they have planned.

The book, Dr. Mary's Monkey by Ed Haslam (read second) is getting re-read with some topical interest; a secret linear accelerator in New Orleans that was used for irradiating cancer tumors in mice, and then re-iterating the process to make them more virulent and ultimately more lethal, to the point of being a bioweapon. Which is what they accomplished; an unwitting prisoner was injected with the cancer and died 28 days later, right on cue. This in August 1963. Because the lead lab technician, Judyth Vary Baker (JVB, author of Me and Lee- read first), was upset about this, and wrote this in a letter delivered to her sponsor, Dr. Ochsner, and thereby violating the rule that she documented their interaction, she got dismissed, and with her Lee Harvey Oswald, her lover/handler, (LHO) who got dispatched to Dallas to play the patsy to the JFK assassination.

And was the dark hand of the perps behind all this, and sitting over top of their conventional world proxies, the CIA (aka, Criminals in Action, not just the Cocaine Importing Agency)? From the coincidences and behavioral oddities perspective, I would say yes, though not obviously. First, when JVB moved to New Orleans she was invited to a party where she would meet her direct supervisor for the first time, Dr Mary Sherman. This inaugural personal meeting of a keen 20 y.o. cancer research student assigned to a senior US, if not world, respected cancer researcher was a blow-off; Dr Sherman didn't even say hello, preferred to speak with the hispanics there and left early. JVB was understandably nonplussed, if not a little upset. This kind of blow-off, with prior great expectations, is a classic perp move in my experience. They love to foil introductions, especially at the inception where individuals would be getting to know each other much better, which was the plan, and which did later unfold. As to whether Dr. Sherman was knowingly acting according to a directive from someone else, or whether she was mind controlled and didn't know, no one can say. But her rude first introduction was totally out of character, as she would do weekly rounds at the children's hospital as part of her regular duties. She was always gracious and a class act from what others recounted in Dr Mary's Monkey.

Then there was the stated objective of the cancer bioweapon; it was so that it could be used against Castro as soon as possible, so that JFK's detractors would not get too impatient and decide to take him out instead. Well, the bioweapon worked (per above), LHO took it to Mexico to transfer to Cuba, and no one showed up at the drop location. It was at least four months of intense secret work, using a secret linear accelerator, some thousands of dead mice, at least one dead human, and all of the participants with day jobs, and then the CIA somehow "fails" to execute on the central objective. It doesn't add up. So why did they want this covert research done?

Haslam, in Dr Mary's Monkey suggests that the cancer work was to negate the blatant stupidity of deploying earlier polio vaccines that contained monkey viruses, some capable of causing cancer over the long term. That is, find a way to clean up the seemingly inadvertent introduction of SV-40 (the 40th virus found in monkeys BTW) into the human population. (I don't buy into this as it was such a technical long shot, and I am not sure even present day science knows of an approach that could address SV-40 in the human population). Others in NIH at the time, most notably Bernice Eddy, conveyed that these viruses would cause a human cancer epidemic in future years, which has happened. (Proving causal isn't going to be easy). But, it is interesting to note that the linear accelerator "accident", as it seems from Haslam's investigation, didn't occur until April 1964. So there is no knowledge of how this device was used, and for what purpose, as the bioweapon work, its ostensible purpose, ended in Aug. 31, 1963. So what was the linear accelerator used for during this 8 month interval?

There is a suggestion that by irradiating SV-40 that its viral cousin, HIV was created by mutating SV-40. Presumably this needed further testing beyond the contributions of JVB and LHO, who were under the impression it was for a cancer bioweapon for taking out Castro, a deeply held sentiment in New Orleans in those days. It is my speculation that Dr Mary Sherman was purposely taken out when this further stage of HIV testing was complete. She was not part of the JFK conspiracy (other than knowing LHO and Ferrie and working with them on the cancer bioweapon), was not of interest to the Warren Commission, and harbored no malevolent political intent, unlike her superior, Dr. Ochsner. After the accident, (coincidentally, the first day of the Warren Commission hearings in New Orleans), they shut down the linear accelerator, removed it, cleaned out the building. The FBI later shut down the investigation into Dr. Sherman's demise, and even RFK himself phoned the New Orleans police department investigators asking how it was going. The FBI had earlier declared it was a local murder, as they had no investigative authority. True enough, but Haslam's analysis strongly suggests that the "accident"/murder occurred on US Federal property, and would of been an FBI case. Which explains why there was so much Federal government interest in Dr Sherman's case. Haslam makes a strong case that the linear accelerator malfunction, (or perhaps sabotage) caused Dr. Sherman's death and that the body was transported back to her residence with additional crime scene augmentation to make it look like an burglary gone wrong.

Apparently, the linear accelerator was a cash up front $10m purchase and was installed and run in great secrecy by 1960. Would they, whoever are the true over-arching sponsors, really invest in this considerable effort from 1960 to 1964 and suddenly drop it because of an accident? It doesn't add up either. It would seem to me that whatever the ultimate purpose was, (creation of HIV is suggested, per Haslam, and it seems plausible to me), was attained, and was professionally repugnant to Dr. Sherman, and she got nixed. JVB was fortunate that of all these projects, the cancer bioweapon, its possible HIV creation ulterior motive, and LHO's involvement in the JFK assassination, that she lived to tell part of the tale, and what a story it is (Me and Lee).

Then there is the timing of it all (aka coincidence count); they finished their bioweapon proving in Aug. 1963, and JVB complained in writing about its gruesome testing outcome to Dr. Ochsner. As she succinctly put it, she came to New Orleans to study how to defeat cancer, not to kill people with it. But Ochsner's regular secretary wasn't there that day, (coincidence meter going off here), but a substitute who would of been privy to the contents. Ochsner went livid, reneged on his promise to send JVB to Tulane Medical School (weeks before the term started), and she was dispatched to Florida to work in a lab. She wasn't with LHO in the run up in Dallas and the JFK assassination. This also freed up LHO to be "involved" in Dallas, a patsy at best. This split up the lovers, ultimately for good. I cannot believe that the JFK assassination was planned for any less than 6 months in advance, likely close to a year, so it seems it is just too much of a coincidence to have LHO in a key role to suddenly be available 3 months ahead of time.

Then there is the big picture; a secret linear accelerator in New Orleans, used for secret night time irradiation of cancer tumors, and installed and run for over 4 years. (There had to be others involved, as Dr. Sherman had a major day job). Would the perps really be unaware of that? (Or if you don't buy into this theme, their conventional world proxies, the CIA). Not only that, fomenting the anti-Castro movements in their various forms, from invasion forces, e.g. Bay of Pigs with 2,000 men (invading at the location of Castro's favorite fishing grounds for crissakes). That the CIA director, Dulles, was out of town on the day of the invasion when his permission was vitally needed to take out the few jet trainers/fighters the Cubans had. That doesn't add up either; it was planned for failure, and very possibly to stiff JFK with it, hence the anti-JFK sentiment that ran so deep in the southern US then. Curiously, when LBJ, a Texan, takes over the presidency, the anti-Castro sentiment dissipates. All to be subsumed by the senseless Vietnam misadventure; a trillion dollar war, half a world away, with 59,000 US dead, and perhaps 2m Vietnamese, in a region of no US geo-political interest; that doesn't add up and no one has bothered to find out why.

All the above is a very long riff, when in fact it is a coincidence (not that I believe in the concept), that I am halfway through my six week Mon-Fri treatment for prostate cancer by external beam radiotherapy, gamma rays delivered by a linear accelerator.

Other curious coincidences in Ed Haslam's story that suggest meta-governance in his book, when in 1972 an out-of-town female college student who he befriended, took an apartment which had a peculiar smell. A woman living in the basement complained of "those men and the horrible things they did to those animals". The woman friend rightfully asked about the place, and New Orleans history in an attempt to understand what the whole picture was. Haslam told her what he knew, but did not know of the illicit lab location of David Ferrie, working for Dr Sherman, with JVB's support. Only in 1992 did he realize that the apartment was in fact the illicit lab location. Just another coincidence that he encountered the former illicit cancer research lab that he was to write about in 2007? Possibly, but then again, regular readers will know what I think of coincidences.

A spoofing incident also occurred in 1972. Ed Haslam and the above mentioned friend were invited to a party and they met a woman at a party claiming to be JVB, who claimed to have met LHO. The JFK and Garrison trial was off-topic to the couple, so they departed the party. Only in 2000, courtesy of 60 Minutes doing fact checking did Ed Haslam run into the real JVB. So who chose to present themselves as an imposter to JVB when she was totally unknown in New Orleans and JFK assassination circles? Post JFK and LHO deaths, Ferrie instructed her to lie low to stay alive, and she did just that for 30 years. No cancer research, and coincidentally, two witnesses that Garrison asked, both failed to mention JVB. She was unknown and untraceable to any investigator at the time. (Both LHO and JVB practiced public furtive measures so they would not be associated together, though lovers). Yet someone knew, and someone chose to spoof her in 1972 to the eventual author of this great book, Dr Mary's Monkey.

In detailing the above coincidences/peculiarities, I am not intending to in any way impugn the book, Dr Mary's Monkey, by Ed Haslam. It is very readable, well researched with perceptive analysis and with local lore added to make a very convincing read. There is no doubt in my mind he has solved the peculiar case of Dr Mary Sherman's death and explained why the investigation was ultimately shut down by someone higher up. And it raises deep questions as to the state of long term public health in North America, particularly with respect to cancer and HIV. Highly recommended. And if you don't like my meta-analysis of the coincidences I have mentioned above, I am fine with that, and don't let it interfere with reading this fascinating book.

I don't do TI organization stuff much any more, phone call sessions and the like, though I probably should, but I cannot see the point. After 15 years of this abuse, I have given up caring to be blunt. The perps must like this dystopic state, having managed me for dysthymia all my life, a co-morbid condition of ADD. And just when turning the corner with the right diagnosis, (a four shrink battle, settled with a SPECT scan), and right medication in 04-2002, why, they run me into ruin and take it away. This past August's consult with the idiotic shrink (yet to be concluded, though I will give him a ringing dissenting written opinion), in an attempt to deal with low dopamine issues as it relates to non-CNS issues, has left me in a rather despondic state. Now, what do I do? Go to a Florida clinic that understands the usefulness of scans, the role of cellular methylation SNP's for MTHFR and COMT (and its effects on dopamine), and puts something together? I reckon it will be $25k at least. Then I run the risk of bringing it all back to Canada and getting screwed, say (real example), "its not peer reviewed science".

Anyhow, unbeknownst to me in the last few months of this holding pattern, though largely dictated by daily focused gamma beam therapy, there was a TI Conference 10-21,23-2017. Like a real one, where one registers (free even), attends, and goes to sessions. OMG; this is near mainstream cred. And here it is, even under the kitschy rubric of Hope and Unity Conference, held in that perp deep town, Boston MA. I am impressed, though I have no idea where the next North American one will be, and hopefully not Victoria, BC, perp deep as it comes. Just count the aerial density to know how perp deep.

Every four to six weeks they let me watch a DVD, even if I have a stack of 15 or so that have been kicking around for years and I have meant to get to every one. This time, The Manchurian Candidate, one of the all time movies to see from the TI [perspective. Well done, and many themes running in this show; mind controlled military non-consensual subjects, private contractors deploying technology into subjects under military direction, staged heroic battle events (I think), the over-the-top US political machinations, the coterie of federal "secret" service keeping tabs on the subject, the mind controlled "lone nut" assassin, impressively faked security footage done in real time, and faked deaths of the victims. And if cinema is really a proxy for the shadow world, this film was a rich trove indeed, seamlessly integrated into a plausible whole.  Using "old technology" as I know it, that is, implants, but that makes for better cinema as there is something more tangible than what I deal with. A good show, though not essential if you are deep in the rabbit hole. On  the other hand, it is interesting to see where cinema is and how they are gently inculcating the masses with such astonishing capabilities.

Enough for a week of rambling on, being out of work these days, so what else am I to do?

Sunday, November 05, 2017

Picking Grapes

Alternating radiotherapy and grape picking these past two days. Yesterday was an early radiotherapy appointment in Kelowna, so I got to start picking at 1300h. Today, a mid-day radiotherapy appointment; 2.5 hours picking in the morning and 3 hours more, resuming at 1430h. Tomorrow, the property changes hands, so I don't know what the deal is after that.

I had my "usual" hallway loafers and wall leaning louts after I finished my radiotherapy session. I have never seen so many Fuckwits without a thing to do in a hospital before. But as I have just been irradiated, the perps put on quite a show. Yesterday, they held me up with traffic and a mission to get a particular make of vitamin B across town. Said vitamin B ran out too early as the large format "happened" to be out of stock when I made my last online order.

I had my "usual" posse of vehicular gangstalkers around me there and back; three logging trucks, one cement constituent bulk carrier, a few flat decks and plenty of tractor trailers. Obviously they had this one planned long ago; mere one-time surgery wouldn't serve the greater gangstalking purpose.

A radiotherapy trip to Kelowna for a 1000h appointment. Then the doctor at 1110h. No big deal on either account, though I did learn that they beam me with gamma rays with their linear particle accelerator. While in the patient room, with a medical assistant taking notes, the power went out on the whole building, and took some 10 seconds to come back on. Which meant that the data entry the medical assistant was interrupted until her PC booted up again. As to what the power outage did for the linear particle accelerator I don't know, but I would imagine its reboot sequence was more than for a PC.

What is it about the radiotherapy staff that they seem so evasive and distant? I have seen the same cadre for 8 days now, and I don't get this impersonal touch. Two treatment units are side by side and the waiting room is common, so I also see the staff from the other treatment unit in the course of the general process. Today, they put a woman from the other to take me into the treatment, and lo, another comes out of the adjacent room (pop outs) and follows me in. (The time worn perfect perp set up that I have come to know and despise). The second one was E. Indian or Arabic of some kind. They set me up on the bed, and do their usual pushing, pulling and tweaking of me to get me into position. and when finished, the single tall young girl comes in from the other treatment unit to lower me down. She has been there most days, and is particularly vapid and unengaging. I suppose she is the Featured Creature (Caucasian, young) of this process, though I have no idea why. And why the dark E. Indian woman who popped in after treatment yesterday, different from the one above? Its like a post-irradiative treatment victim tour, within seconds of completion. Next I predict they will add in negroes in this continuing need for the perps to stalk me with all racial comers. (They have placed negroes on my route for me to see while driving home, at least twice in one week).

I get  my "usual" posse of stalkers there, especially when I turn corners, and more so after treatments. Today, the deal was that the doctor's appointment (Asian doctor) was an hour after treatment, so they had me there on the premises (at a waiting room, beside the fish tank), for longer than usual. I also got my "usual" hallway ditherers as well, who often break from the aisle blocking cluster only to re-cross my path again. Been there, had it done to me since 04-2002 and I am sick fucking fed up. And too, the vehicular stalking and pit lamping is intense when departing. Plus, the vehicular posse around me on the way there and back. It seems they slack off on the stalking when mid-distance, a 75km run one way.

The grape picking is done now; the landlord indicated that now that the property has changed hands, it is up to the new owners to deal with the seller, though the realtor usually gets blamed he says. I suppose it was all about interleaving this activity with the radiotherapy, having a "hot" (just irradiated ) victim picking grapes, before and after. The ongoing combinations and permutations of activities never seems to end.

A double day for power black outs; on the way home from the supermarket, only 100m from my residence, the whole neighborhood blacked out with a flash in the sky, and about 20 seconds later, another flash and the power was back on. This "somehow" precipitated the spare PC, which I rarely use now, to turn on with the fan on high. I found out when I entered my place; this particular Lenovo PC starts out with the fan on high for about 5 seconds and then it drops to a near inaudible noise level. And "somehow" the PC booted up and had its fan stuck on high. Go figure.

A clusterfuck and a mind fuck at the parking lot at the cancer center in Kelowna when I arrrived. I got mind fucked into "thinking" my appointment time was 1236h, when it was 1254h, as that is the transposition of today and tomorrow's times. So with a back up at the parking meter, I had to wait, while others passed by, or else waited behind me. Only when I scanned in was I allowed to know I was too early. So I go back to add more time, and then one of the folks behind me was doddering around at the meter still, plus one of the passers-by who preceded me in (and seemingly, didn't need a ticket), was now there ahead of me. Then a day-glo dude from the security company "needed" to get a parking ticket too, he ahead of me. Then when I added more time, the infernal meter crapped out, and didn't permit the addition of 1 more hour, saying it was invalid. After two attempts, fuck it. I got a card of the parking meter person at the front desk and left it at that, as I would been 20 minutes over at the most. But as it "happened" I got called in early for radiotherapy, and all the parking angst was for naught. But why create the problem in the first place? Getting the appointment time wrong, forcing me back out to then deal with meter with two of the first time gangstalkers there and having the parking meter go wrong. The perps like to change up costs; $3 one day, $5 the next as I was there for longer, and then today, only $1.50 as I figured I would be done in an hour. They get much mileage out of changing the price of gasoline, and that inveterate algorithm driven price roller coaster, Amazon.

And it wasn't a day for parking meters either; I had to go to the Kelowna shoe repair to get my work boots fixed, a perennial problem as they just keep "failing". After driving around the block I finally get a stall, and lo, the meter says "fail". What is that supposed to mean? Anyhow, I stuffed a quarter into in and went to the shoe repair place. For some reason the parking got awful tight around there.

And some snow enroute, and more on the way back; just slush on the highway and in Kelowna, but halfway back it was rain, and within 10km of Penticton, bare dry road.

What is it about longevity of automotive parts nowadays? My parents replaced the Ford Escape's clutch at about 60-70,000 km, and now its slipping at 115,000km. Like WTF; these parts lasted once 60,000 miles (or more) and it seems they are now getting manufactured to get the same mileage in kilometers, 5/8 less. I don't think I will buy another Ford clutch, but prices are all over the map from $100 to $500, shipping is all over the map as are delivery times. Who said that online shopping was simple?

Snow this morning, some 3", and icy roads in the suburbs. The highway was better, though still ice in places and a dump truck with a pup trailer lost traction and spun into the concrete barrier and jack-knifed. Still on its wheels though, so hopefully no injuries. The icy snow melt from overnight stayed on my vehicle for the Penticton-Kelowna return trip. Added to that was brown colored road crud, a sort of "browning" of the vehicle while traveling. Afterward, I barely recognized the vehicle, so I went to the power washing depot.

And 2/3 through the job of cleaning my vehicle, and using the power washer to clean off the the now-browned ice that traveled with me, the thing kicks out. (How many times have I mentioned power washers that crap out on me?) I put more coins in it and the coins just pop out via the coin return. Eventually I get the attendant, who hammers on the coin machine to no avail. So he suggests I use the credit card swiper, which I do, and allows me to finish cleaning the vehicle. So what was the point of that? Two different payment methods for one simple job? Or was it holding me up in mid-job? There was no reason for the washer to kick out as there was plenty of time on the clock. Go figure.

I finally got the infernal car deck fixed (again); it had conked out yet again for no seeming reason. Which deprived me of radio and music on my daily road trips to Kelowna this week. The perps just love to disconnect me from frequent sources of information; e.g. radio. And too, they fucked with my wrist watch and made it unadjustable, so I will have to take it in sometime. It never ends, these relentless attacks on the functionality of everything.

Said car audio deck was fixed on my return to Penticton; so the installer guy got to hang out in my vehicle, and drive it some 100', after arriving from Kelowna. No doubt it is a big deal to have someone else in my vehicle as these critical junctures, e.g. just arriving, so who knows what the deal is. While it was being fixed, some 15 minutes worth, I hung around in the electronics shop among all the new LCD TV's. Plus at least 15 new ones in brown cardboard boxes were sitting there in the retail area. The perps like to have these devices around me, and have become a ubiquitous gangstalking tool, e.g. smart phones.

A hangover day, replete with getting sick this morning. All the more strange was that I thought I was OK. My fickle friend came over last night and we chatted, ate finger foods and had wine. Two bottles later he insisted on ordering more... Well anyhow, he slept on the floor overnight in a sleeping bag, and we pulled ourselves together in the morning.  He didn't stay for breakfast or anything, and I thought it best to go back to bed. And lo, within an hour I was feeling something unpleasant, and then ended up throwing up. In the toilet that is, as he got sick on my floor in a prior visit about three months ago. Anyhow, I am slowly recovering today, and the perps have exploited this to put on extra ear-ringing noise all today.

A hair cut and a leg wax yesterday; my typical treatment every 6 weeks or so. For the waxing, two students were on opposite sides, and did a leg each. This is common, though the odd time they switch sides when I flipped over so they could stay with the same leg. The hair stylist was from Quesnel, and as I lived there for four months one long ago summer job, there was plenty to talk about. Attractive and slim she was too; I didn't get the Big Girl treatment this time, typified by pushing her gut into me. The whole deal felt almost normal. We shall see what happens next time, and that she acts the same way if I happen to see her. Some have begun as friendly and talkative, and then the next visits are marked by them pretending not to notice me.

I think I have finally got the automobile clutch selection made, navigating unit price, , "performance" level/features, delivery (to Canada), shipping costs etc. Not to mention getting a better product, as it seems stock Ford clutch parts are such crap. Or more likely, someone wears them out faster than normal. I saw one online reference to a Ford Escape clutch, and the guy got 150,000 miles out of it. As mentioned above, this part has worn out at 40,000 miles, now twice.

Anyhow; time to get this posted for another week.