Sunday, December 09, 2018

Sticky Negro at Work

A negro wall covering tradesman was hounding my ass at work yesterday, a Monday, the usual day for escalated perp fuckery. Said fellow was working on wall coverings, and on one room I was working on, both his appearances seemed totally gratuitous. Hanging around, admiring my work cart for crissakes, and then fumbling around and handling one of my tools. For his second act, timed perfectly just when I started applying PL glue, and after his dissembling banter, he then declared he wanted to use the door to outside which was blocked by a tradesman's ladder. How fucking lame was that, when no one uses that door anyhow?

In the afternoon we met up again in another room where the same negro was putting on wall covering ahead of me so that I could then put on the chair railings afterward. A skunky looking Asian joined him as well, who took it upon himself to borrow my tin snips for crissakes. The three of us nattered on and off, each doing our respective jobs and got along fine. I find it interesting that the perps put on negro stalkers from time to time, all the more evident in that they are as rare as hen's teeth in these here parts. But I suppose some are going to show up somewhere, especially in a trades situation where many trades are converging, often with personnel from across Canada.

A visit to the oncologist in Kelowna today, and the news is mixed. My PSA score went up a little, deviating from the expected trajectory of it going down some more, below 1.0. My summertime PSA was 1.2, and it went up to 1.4 last week. So... more doubt, (aka big time FUD) as another test is scheduled in three months, and depending on the result, a possible further test with a radioactive tracer in Vancouver. The perps just love that shit; having radioactive tracers clinically injected and then a following scan. Two bone scans in 2016-17 needed technetium, and the SPECT scans of 2001 before the assholes went berserk/overt in 04-2002. And a seemingly needless MRI in 2000. Woohoo... another dimension to perp fuckery is radioactive tracer infusion with a following scan. As if being irradiated daily by a conformal beam gamma ray beam for 6 weeks last year wasn't enough.

And it was too much; based on my yoga competency I finally feel I am pulling out of the hole the radiotherapy treatment put me into. With a big assist from my ADD Rx, started 07-2018. Though I still have infuriating side effects that I won't go into, and today's visit to the oncologist didn't provide any optimism. Another year  possibly he says.

A tattoo-free new yoga instructor yesterday. (So it would seem that the prior instructor's tattoos were too disgusting for the perps to gain whatever intelligence they were looking for while I avoided this grotesque Unfavored visage). I have encountered this instructor before, and she is decidedly worth looking at. (And she "happened" to be at the SOF supermarket for two of my visits in the prior four weeks). From 15 yogis per class regularly and now it is suddenly down to 6 of us. I cannot see that she would deter attendance, as it was a good work out. And as it "happened" the only yogi who says hello to me was in the foyer when I arrived, she having finished her class. She also has the distinction of the only yogi with whom I have had physical contact in class as a result of a one time instruction session about two years ago. Interesting that this yogi now only shows up at these transitional junctures almost exclusively.

Just when I was figuring that this construction gig was done, why, a new task in attending to the "deficiencies" as they call them in the business. In this case, mill work installation that isn't up to scratch in the eyes of the general contractor. I have cleaning and caulking on my list. Though this didn't occur as straightforwardly as it seems. First the foreman said there wasn't much to do, so I was to install chair rails only partially in two rooms that weren't finished. I get the work cart all ready, tools and supplies, get it up to the floor, and then I a call from the foreman that there is a "deficiency list" to attend to. So... I retrieve the work cart, put the tools and supplies away, and then attend to my new task that continued all week. The off-then-on again stunt, this time with employment termination injected into the mix. Been there, done that, and all in keeping with the perp's insane prerogative over the employment theme.

What is it about stalkers on on my ass at every turn, literally, as I make turns at certain corridor corners especially at the hospital construction site? Yes, these are central locations that hundreds, if not thousands, of personnel, patients and vistors will make  when the building is occupied for decades to come. So just leave me the fuck out of it as I don't realy expect to be there very often, if at all. And what is it about the perps and their insane hospital theme they need to keep hammering me with?

This three time loser -(Penticton Herald newspaper, and Ignani is his handle should the link disappear) from a shithole state; now in the local news for kidnapping a couple and then when the trial starts (featured locally), one of kidnap victims skips the country, and the other cannot remember a thing in court (she claims) and has disavowed her police statement at the time. Is this some kind of joke or what? How  could anyone ever forget such a traumatic incident? The shitholer has already done 42 months in jail, awaits another trial for assault in jail, and is now in the middle of this court farce for 10 counts related to his kidnapping of the couple. No doubt this woman's "memory failure" is on account of the kidnapper's further nefarious dealings, as in threats or cash.

Lets check out the kidnapper's total past and future taxpayer tab: 42 months at $150k/year in jail. Then this trial and the next one; likely to be another $500k in legal and incarceration costs that this mofo has rung up by the time he is sentenced. And then this $1m loser cannot be sent back to where he came from (say the immigration apologists) because he might be executed in Iran. I say fuck it; let the Iranians deal with their very own spawn and have them do us all a favor. The limp-wristed do-gooding limousine liberals that created this legal absurdity need a wake-up call to stop acting like ruinous spendy naive boy scouts and  to demonstrate some gumption in dealing with such financial squandering. (The said kidnapper's trade seems to be drug trafficker, so do we need this shitholer anyhow?) Trump has got it right on this one, as profane and crude as he is. As for Canada, we won't ever get it, as the bleating media hasn't got the gumption of a wet rag. Nor will we ever get anything close to a Trump, as sorely as it is needed. Talk about pressing all my buttons.

I am doing a lot of caulking this week, laying a bead of just the right size of sealant at the join of counter and wall surfaces, matching my caulking gun travel speed with the trigger pressure, which is also moderated by the size the the gap that I see coming up. It gets very zen, pulling all these dynamic parameters into play and doing it right. And just when I get there, why, some kind of interruption then "happens" to screw it up, often just a little, but a disruption all the same. "Somehow" I need to make an extra step, I run into something, my fingers somehow just don't do what I want etc. and the caulking bead "somehow" goes too thin or thick or else the irregularly bead globs up. (All fixable by later (many) iterative passes with moistened fingers and cloths, but more work all the same). And have I mentioned before how much the perps just love to disrupt a zen moment, or otherwise level of competence attainment just so they can fuck it up and cause extra work and perturb me, sometimes to extreme levels (though not at a paid job)? And just what is their problem that they simply must jerk me around as soon as competence/total task engagement develops?

And what is it about other tradesmen, sometimes tradeswomen, who "need" to lean on my work cart at the hospital construction site? Usually it takes place in the elevator, a more compressed room if you will, where someone puts their hand on my work cart that has my tools and supplies on it. Like WTF; it isn't as if they are off balance, or the work cart is shoved up beside them, but they do this, perhaps 2-4x/week. It must be some kind of energetic comparison, where this shill/operative needs to replicate their interaction with the same work cart. That is, replicate and have it compared to me, with me having pushed it into position, though not necessarily touching it at that moment they are.

The most egregious example of this work cart touching games last week was this apparent electrician, a woman who came along and plopped her paper plans on my work cart while I was about 4' away, and no one else was around. (I was attending to a room's "deficiencies", and not even close to an elevator). She doesn't look up, doesn't ask, just "happens" by and dumps her papers on my cart for a minute or two. Fucking rude, and just as bad as the E. Indians on the work site. Which, in speaking with the general contractor superintendent, seems to be a common complaint with that lot. It isn't just me.

Enough rants for the week, and to wind down my last week as a construction laborer. Though I really don't have any complaints, as it is much more interesting than vineyard work.

Sunday, December 02, 2018

Blood Test Day

Blood test at the hospital today, next door to where I am working in construction on the new 6 floor extension.  And in keeping with the consistent fuckery over such events, the assholes hit me with two forced forgets. I "forgot" wallet with the all important health care card, and also "forgot" my cell phone, used for clocking in at work. A never-before double forget mind fuck. I drove home at our coffee break at 0900h and retrieved both. And to no surprise, the vehicular gangstalking was intense, as were the vehicular cluster-fucks at intersections. The is the norm when heading home during regular work hours to deal with forced "forgets", mid-day appointments etc.

Prior to coffee break, a confluence four other tradesmen came into this 5m x 3m room where I was working. I had been there late yesterday all by myself, and no one was around. And in addition, my boss came around too.

I took my blood test at the day's end, about 1500h, and this time I was the only one there. Usually there is some 10-15 people ahead of me, along with staff activity. One such activity is for someone to enter or exit an adjacent doorway, and in doing so, cause the wall to shake, and thereby, my seat back as well. The lab tech seemed particularly distant and cursory for some reason. As always, I never give off any vibe or like for this to occur, and yet it "happens" with such consistency that I wonder if there isn't some kind of telltale identifying field around me that others can see, and I cannot.

Yoga yesterday, another interesting show, again heavy on the tattoos, truly an Unfavored sight. This time the tattoo-ed instructor wore long sleeves and hid most of hers, so instead I had the woman beside me doing  a full arm show. Fucking disgusting IMHO. I also got skunked from my usual mat location by a new Asian male yogi, surely another one installed who will likely pass through this shit show, as so many do.

After yoga, a new "practice" of the class members is to swarm me afterward. For the past five years the class members held back, as if commanded by some common agent, and I was in the change area alone for the most part. Now, a sudden change in post-yoga behavior and I am now swarmed in short order. One attractive woman who was turning around to go gives me a sharp look for whatever reason from 8' away and I stare back without any acknowledgement or change in countenance. (I internalize these directed stares with a "fuck you, what is there to look at" notion). As usual, I get to feel like a constant freak, and yet there is no reason for this common behavioral event that erupts and is directed at me. And all this began in 04-2002 when the perps first went berserk/overt on me.

Immediately after this eye contact with the attractive woman, three dudes from the yoga class swarm in front of her to block my view, or otherwise intervene in the space between me and her. (She was heading out the door then anyhow). Which then illustrates another long standing perp stalking stunt; have my view of the babe (Favored) be replaced by a dude, or dudes (Unfavored, both) in this case. Though, this stalking stunt vignette was complexed with the above mentioned piss-off of having her glare at me for absolutely no reason. And what in the fuck was that about, and why does it play out so consistently for 16 years of this insane choreographed abuse-athon that I have been cast into?

The construction work site is winding down with a whole lot less trades dudes about. But the heavy stalking at every turn I make when transiting the corridors and at elevators from a consistent group 10 or so is just too obvious for words. Sometimes the same stalking Fuckwit "happens" to pop out from the same door when I am making the same corner in the same direction, 20 minutes apart. (I am usually fetching supplies for others, so I often cover the same beat at frequent intervals).

The radiotherapy side effect damage, aka, ass-leaking that has dogged me for 10 months has somehow been increased of late. I went home at lunch, and yet again, any mid-work day transiting began hordes of heavy vehicular gangstalkling.

Another gangstalking plague that has been noted at the work site in prior postings are the E. Indian cleaner workers. Yet again, there they were at every floor when I starting a new task. Yesterday, they upped their coverage yet again, by descending on our trade office when I was about to have lunch there. As soon as I saw that set-up, I got the hell out and had lunch outside, which was warmer that it had been of recent weeks.

As work seems to be winding down, despite what the boss man says, I took some of my stuff home, and lo, yet again, I find that someone stole some of my special cobalt steel 6" long drill bits, this from my second order; 3 in fact. This time it has to be someone in-house, as I locked them up every night after the first theft of my 6" drill bits (from the first order). Earlier someone stole 10 drill bits from the little box that was routinely left  on the work cart. They had opened up the box, removed the drill bits and then put the box back where it was normally placed.

I thought about these drill bit thefts some more this evening, and concluded, in the absence of a confession, that the circumstantial evidence points to my skulking Russian co-worker of the last 8 weeks. Only he knew I wasn't using the first order of drill bits as they were too large diameter, and presumably felt comfortable stealing them all as he knew I had switched to smaller diameter drill bits that were store purchased. The second order of 6" drill bits, a length that one never sees in retail stores, were smaller diameter and arrived later. (After unexpected and considerable delays in delivery). He also had access to where there were stored in a locked cabinet overnight. And too, he would of also known of my habit of not retrieving the drill bits from the storage box until I needed a new one, often weeks later. I routinely kept the one in use on the cart until it became too dull, and, he knew that too, and felt comfortable stealing the bits from the storage box as there would be a latency of discovery by a week or more.

And what is with the medication intake fuckery now? After two years of taking them at the same time every day, suddenly I "forget"?

And too, what is with the lunch spoon fuckery. I routinely pack my titanium spoon with my lunch, and have done for over 5 years, and suddenly I "forget"? The deal with this is that the former folding titanium spoon, which had a "habit" of folding unexpectedly, (read psychopathic perp intervention) became my back up spoon that was kept in my pack should the replacement (single piece, also titanium) spoon be "forgotten". Well, four such "forgets" in two weeks, with the back up spoon being available, isn't normal, and is nothing less than  blatant mind fuckery. And likely for the purposes for some kind of comparison, as the metal content and type (and presumably, energetics) of eating utensils and my food digestion has long been of interest to these assholes. And presumably, the titanium source in each soon instance was from differing smelters and ore supplies, or whatever the other parameters these assholes are pursuing while they run and ruin my life to the most possible degree.

And the number of maser eruptions has increased of late at the hospital work site. Very often there is automatic door opening hardware (motor, wires, aluminum box) over the door, from which an eruption of blackish filamentous "stuff" just erupts and comes at me. The perps are nuts when I enter and exit doors, and are very often a prime gangstalking site for their shills and operatives to circulate around me, and sometimes hold me up while some kind of excuse is made for them to delay. This time, they seem to be replacing the gangstalkers with their magnetic beams and fields. It is my contention that the gangstalkers are placed for their energetic interactions (among other reasons such as view blocking), as bio-field interference agents, whose bio-field would interfere and interact with mine, and from which some kind of measurement or detection can be remotely determined. Only when they are confident in the baseline of energetic interaction study, at a certain site or regular path, do they back off and then start using their technological means such as magnetic beams such as masers and plasma beams. Which also explains that the stalking and fuckery is always intense whenever I am first in a new location or circumstance, say, new job. Just my observation.

And I see that the assholes are still at their pill (medication) color fuckery games. My ADD Rx, re-started in 07-2018, and of a black and transparent capsule with orange microspheres visible through the transparent part, has now been switched to a generic form. This new form is an all orange colored capsule with white micro-spheres inside. And here we are, now 16.5 years into this protracted and senseless abuse-athon, and here are they are still putzing with my medication color. These been the same medications that were suspended for 16 years due to their fucking insane and illegal interventions when they first went berserk/overt in 04-2002. Get a grip assholes, and get the fuck out.

Enough venom unloaded for a week, and to see what the next will bring.

Sunday, November 25, 2018

Shake the Ground

As I write this the ground and this building I live in is shaking. The garage opposite my window across the back lane is getting demolished as I write, with the aid of an excavator and a dump truck. And the fact that I am home at 1000h on a Tuesday to witness this is also not a fluke; as it "happens" the boss wasn't in and there wasn't anything assigned to do, nor any tasks outstanding. I wasn't the only one in these circumstances, and I drove my co-worker home as well. The two installers at work were also running out of things to do and were on the brink of heading home too.

Back to the excavator for a moment, and the articulating boom with the bucket and thumb on the end. Have I not mentioned before that the perps like to arrange boom trucks to transit, and more often, work with extended booms in my proximity with inordinate frequency? Many times I think, but this time it is only 20' away and shaking the place. And too, the demolition of buildings seems to be big deal, with the inevitable conclusion of the debris going to the landfill. Construction of buildings is also of perp interest too for that matter, though it of course takes longer.

Yoga last night, and a full house of some 18 other yogis. I don't know why the woman behind me had to park her mat 6" away when there was plenty of space elsewhere in the room, but hey, this is "normal". The E. Indian male shirtless freak wasn't there, and hence none of that purposeful gliding in at the last second to put his mat beside mine, like he did twice in succession.

The yogic freak show last night seemed to be about tattoos; at least two full arm jobs on women, and the female instructor was also full measure in that department. (I can barely look at her). There were at least three more women with lesser arm tattoos, the scripted writing going up the arm for crissakes. The instructor said next week's class will be her last, so it is either that the next instructor and her unsightly tattoos are going to be more prominent or much less. We shall see.

Another yoga instructor feature the perps like to manipulate is the manner of the instructor's tone of speech; is the instruction delivered as more of a suggestion/request, or as an insistent command. This seems to be a big deal for the perps, as one instructor who had much more of an authoritative command type delivery only lasted one session about three years ago. Go figure.

The loathesome game of huggies in the supermarket, but this time it was my turn. After work I went SOF and a woman viticulturist I know was there and greeted me with a hug. We chatted only briefly, and as her boyfiend was there. I met her at the harvest party two weeks ago, and again, didn't get much interaction time before we were interupted. I had spoken to her at length last year, on two occasions. It would seem the perps are up to their games of limiting contact time with known associates. She is one of the few people I find conversational and interesting and we never failed to chat at length whenever we have crossed paths in vineyard jobs in the last three years.

To the big city of Kelowna today, to get my IV iron transfusion, as the Good Doctor determined I was low and she also had done prior diligence in determining that I don't absorb iron. I was hoping to meet her and get some idea of how to turn this into a more quantifiable and consistent treatment regimen, rather than me phoning for my "annual" iron check up. And too, the Good Doctor wasn't very consistent this year, as I had to remind her that a ferritin test was inadequate, and she had to re-test me for other iron parameters. As to what they all are and their relative levels I don't know, nor am I any the wiser as to how the results were interpreted. I had to remind her last year of the same thing. So yes, the Good Doctor is losing her status IMHO, though she deserves full credit for disposition for action.

Curiously, I didn't get to see the Good Doctor this time, and only the recently hired nurse administered the IV feed. And the price went up $100 from last year, so I felt a little miffed that I didn't get to articulate my need to get this whole deal down to a more predictable schedule. The last twice I had the iron IV, the office staff babes popped by to check up on me, presumably in place of the doctor, as the process takes over an hour. The nurse did check up on me, but wasn't nearly as attractive though.

I went early to the big city to the tool supply store N of town and got a 1/8" round over router bit after three weeks of promises from the boss man as it is holding up completion of our chair rail installation at the hospital construction site. I was just plain fed up in other words, as he had already travelled to Kelowna twice in the last two weeks and failed to get the router bit as promised.

I got back to the hospital construction site at 1230h, and lo, if someone from the crew, who (unexpectedly) took a day off with the boss man in Kelowna last week, didn't also "happen" to be getting the same router bit as stated by the boss man. No good deed goes unpunished, sabotaged, compromised, duplicated or otherwise interfered with. As it "happened", the boss texted the co-worker in time and he did not get the router bit, and loaded up on purchasing a large number of tools for his own use. A curious "coincidence" I find, given the perps interest in sending others I am working with to the same stores, (this time a hours' drive away) and of course, engaging in financial transactions (for similar items, e.g. tools). Said co-worker was there in the big city last week, and didn't get any tools then, and had a day off two days beforehand. All too odd IMHO. And if I have a tool fetish, one can be sure the perps have long arranged this for whatever reasons they have in this.

And what is with the perps arranging finger cuts of late? I have had three in the last week, and the last most was most odd as I did not run my finger into anything sharp. Yesterday it was an obvious jerkaround; I had used a chisel while kneeling on the floor, and then placed it 12" from where I was using my R hand, and lo, if my L hand didn't inexplicably move for no purpose and get run into the chisel. I was absolutely pissed, as it was a blatant mind fuck stunt. And it "happened" at the same location of last week where the aforementioned curious cause finger cut erupted. The perps just love to arrange blood "samples" as I call them, usually arranging blood to drop onto the floor or nearby objects.

Another imperative of the perp assholes is to slow things up, and bloodletting with arranged finger cuts also serves that purpose. On both occasions, I was in the groove, efficiently attending to something that I know how to do well, and then the assholes struck with a finger cut to then break up the continuity and sense of purpose. Meaning that I had to go to the office and clean it up, and put on a band-aid. Like what the fuck for?

Other continuity disruptions this week were when guys came by with innocuous reasons, as in lame questions, when I was in the groove and getting on with end banding. I was using the router and the new bit to get the plastic imitation wood grain pieces made up that go on the exposed ends of the MDF chair rails, finally attending to this pointless (IMHO) imposed delay that the boss man invoked in spite of his avowed interest in finishing this particular job. My regular co-worker for the chair rails, the passive-aggressive Russian emigre mentioned in past posts, also came by to run his hand over the routed pieces I had made up. Funny that, with the perps longstanding interest in cutting tools, from knives onward, and he shows up, when he was busy on another assignment that kept him fully occupied. Even more curious was that he later came by to sweep up the plastic chips that had spewed from the routers over the prior two hours I was in the cutting room. It has been most unlike him to do any sweeping or cleaning, especially if it was for me.

Anti-metal music here, aka bluegrass-like; I won't vouch for the lyrics, but to hear good music and see such accomplished performers having so much fun is too hard to resist giving this a link. David Rawlings Machine as they like to call themselves; Hot Corn, Cold Corn needs some lyrical translation for this northerner, but I play it most nights of late.

Enough for a post for the week I think, even if the multitude of workplace gangstalkers is so predictable in "arriving" when I turn corners or enter or exit the building. Also, elevator egress (of me, and my gangstalkers) are a big deal for the perps, something that they taught me early when all this insane abuse rained (or reigned) down 04-2002 and hasn't let up. Suddenly, all manner of folks just plain "forgot" normal elevator etiquette of letting the passengers out before entering and started piling in to prevent my egress and/or to bump into me on purpose.

In support of this activity, they even pulled an obvious teleportation job a few months ago at this work site, mentioned in a posting at the time, where the guy (supposed tradesman) gets out on one floor and then "somehow" shows up on the next higher floor getting on, with no conventional discernible means or available time to pull this off. That he was wearing a backpack and had it pushed into me (due to the small elevator and high passenger load) added to his perp cred. The perps like to arrange backpacks to back into me, the usual ploy being that the wearer feigns obliviousness of their extended depth. Another past common location for this stunt is public transportation, aided by the buses being peculiarly busy for that time of day and direction.

Sunday, November 18, 2018

Hospital Construction Job

This millwork installation laboring gig started Aug. 15 this year, and the boss man tells me that it will take another 4 weeks. I am OK with that as it pays a whole lot better than vineyard work. But the general contractor has this intense drive to not only keep up appearances of completion by Dec. 15, but goes to ludicrous lengths to move the trades' supplies and distributed installation materiel around, as if this was some kind of broad hint. The latest is that all trades materiel, tool boxes, and temporary offices must be off the site by Nov. 24. This is patently absurd given the level of progress, and the best one can hope for is that they allow us to operate from the adjacent parkade, unheated as it is. This too is a problem, as some trades require their materials to be at room temperature so glues will properly set. And the general contractor's habit of piling one trade on top of another and creating logistical inefficiencies hasn't gone unnoticed either. Nor their seeming indifference to permitting ready egress to the building. For example, three level one (ground) accesses (all of them) were blocked by trade work today, and we had to enter and exit via level 2, via the parkade. This wouldn't be permitted under the safety regulations in the first place, and it just seems so utterly absurd they they don't seem to know which access is blocked when. Everyone 's patience is stretched to say the least, and I am a relative latecomer so I am nowhere near as burnt out as most.

Today we discover, that someone came in yesterday on a statutory holiday and applied caulking to the chair rails we had been installing these past five weeks.Owing to the premature arrival of the office furniture we have been hampered in making progress in getting the chair rails done earlier. We are nearly done the chair rail installation today and were getting geared up to do caulking, and now find someone did a totally shit job, first by using the wrong caulking type. They used a clear type, which if ill applied (usually the case) actually magnifies the gaps and makes them look worse. Naturally the general contractor never told my boss, or the wall covering boss, that this was in the works, and proceeded unilaterally with this shit job all in the name of expediting their notion of "completion". As it "happened" even the supervisor level general contractor personnel were remarking on the awful caulking job as I was exiting a room.

Last week the hospital beds arrived, and I suppose this is a big deal as they look very high tech with lots of features etc. And of course each one is very expensive, so I imagine there was a tight inventory count as well. Today the TV screens arrived, a special "health care" version that doesn't allow germs on the inside. Don't ask me how much those each cost.

Anyhow, I find it most curious as to how all this is going to go down with the client in the end, and how much of it the general contractor is going to wear.

And so today, as we were finishing up on chair rail installation on the final level, we find that there was a stash of our chair rail stock on another floor. As it "happened" last week, in the middle of moving all this stock to the next floor, the painter "happened" to arrive in the middle of this job and then blocked the door and effectively prevented us from getting all of it moved. Today, while collecting our stock I discover we had extra on the floor below in this same room. Some fucking idiot had stashed about 15 3' boards, each 8" wide on a new patient bed for crissakes when they had been on the floor and perfectly out of everyone's (other trades) way. Who would do something so fucking stupid? Not only that, but when I entered this room, this male painter was sitting on the bed (3' high off the floor) beside these chair rail boards and doing absolutely squat, except staring out the window and swinging his legs. I made about five trips to retrieve the chair rail stock that was on the floor in this room and moved it to the elevator lobby in advance of taking it downstairs to a central location, but this painter kept on sitting on the patient bed all the while. Eventually (over a time span of 15 minutes) I had to move the chair rail boards that were beside him, and did the obligatory apologies and "excuse me's" etc., and removed them. Like WTF; this painter (an extreme red flag as he may have fresh paint on his clothes) sits on a new patient bed (which never should be done by any tradesman whatsoever as these things had only been delivered last week) and then sits there for 15 minutes while I retrieve this chair rail stock (8" wide boards) from the room, and then the shorter boards from the bed beside him (where they never, ever, should of been as they were in an innocuous location on the floor nearby only two days ago). And apart from him verbally responding to my apologia, he doesn't get off the bed, and just sits there facing the window, explaining nothing. It was IMHO, an utterly bizarre Fellini film-like perverse behavioral/context juxtaposition if there ever was one, just in a construction context. Go figure.

Even now, some five hours later as I write this, I cannot believe that someone would be posted (stalking essentially) in such idiotic circumstances, with such an idiotic set of precursory actions. That is, why would anyone put all these chair rail boards on the bed in the first place when it was clear that all the painters had to do was put a drop cloth on them when the boards were on the floor in an innocuous location. Which is in fact what the painters initially did last week. And then the prior "bad timing" of having the painters arrive and block egress to the room (twice in two days) when we wanted to remove all the chair rail boards in the first place. And then the subsequent "memory failure" of me and my co-worker (who has an excellent memory) in "forgetting" these chair rail boards were in this patient room when we had moved all the long boards upstairs immediately beforehand. In fact, earlier today, I remarked to my co-worker as to where did all the shorter chair rail boards go as we had plenty on the floor below. All I got from him was some vague blather that they all got used up (as he was doing the retrieving for cutting them to length). Talk about an orchestrated shit show, and this took place in consecutive increments over five days. It was yet another happen-chance and coincidence confluence with a finale of utterly bizarre behavior (the painter sitting there on a new patient bed and doing nothing but looking out the window). And of course this character never explained one bit as to what he was doing during all of this. I don't get treated to these Fellini film moments very often these days, but this was one for the ages.

[And given the extensive number of typos, not to mention countless screaming at the assholes for this wholesale fine motor skill assault, with added sneezes at a much greater than usual frequency, while composing the above "Fellini" bizarre-ness, and the constant edit box pop-ups for no seeming reason, it just seems that the Psychopaths have an inordinate interest in having me recount their utter inanity, scripted to the enth degree no doubt].

And to get it back to "normal' for the Psychopathic perps; just leave me the fuck alone, I have suffered enough. A lifetime of ADD and all the cognitive difficulties is more than enough, never mind the callous First Feral Family assholes all the while, and in on this insane travesty with additional imposed adversity. Then the Psychopathic berserk/overt abuse-athon began in 04-2002 and it hasn't let up since. I will take watching a Fellini film any day, rather than being a scripted stooge for an insane Psychopathic Confederate agenda.

Does the intense stalking at the construction site ever end? Now with less trades dudes around, it seems the stalking duties are falling on fewer, who re-double their efforts to make up for less dude flux. And the number of dude-events that "happen" to pop around the corner just as I am making the same corner has increased considerably. And too, the ones who follow me up and down the stairs, along with the tag team play, where one takes off another comes along to replace him. Ditto for the elevator lobby. I also get plenty of help at doors, which I am grateful for as I am usually packing a dolly with 6-9 8' MDF boards, which is a heavy load.

Another continuing stalker plague are the group of E. Indians who are responsible for cleaning. And they have developed a new tactic to deal with me when I am transiting two floors with relative frequency. I was working on level 6, and had to get material on level 1, and back and forth a number of times. And what do they do? Why, they split apart with  about 3-4 each on level 6 where I was working, and then on level 1 just outside our trades office. Well done. The Portable Plague of Gangstalkers, this time with an ethnic focus.

And still the pit lamping on me from headlights in the morning when I get out of my vehicle at 0630h. Same deal as before; just leave me the fuck alone, I have had enough.

Enough bullshit for a week, and onto to getting this one posted.

Monday, November 12, 2018

Harvest Party

 A Monday off work due to the national holiday yesterday, Rememberance Day. Though in fact, I did work yesterday on the construction site. Nice that there were so few trades around as I could get things done. My regular co-worker was with me for part of the day, but as we ran out of glue to finish the job, only part of it could get completed for the afternoon. Said co-worker is the one who threw a passive-aggressive hissy fit three weeks ago over a big nothing, another one of those "what was that about" experiences that have come on since all this abuse and harassment came down in 04-2002. Said co-worker is a little more friendly and talkative since then, and a two week work separation hiatus might of helped. The day after his ridiculous hissy fit he was re-assigned, hardly a coincidence, though I never told anyone anything and he said he wouldn't either. He has mellowed a little, and isn't so strange as he was before, since I began working with him in 09-2018. A Russian emigre, and true to form, cannot be figured out. Anyhow, we get a lot done together, and that suits each of us just fine as we are both accomplishment minded and like to do things efficiently.

And a hiatus from yoga again, due to today's holiday, and the perps just love to break up regular occurences, no matter the frequency; once per week to once per day etc. No good habit or regular practice goes undisrupted (or unsabotaged). Last week it was a Monday night show, so it will be three weeks since I get back to class unless I somehow join a class this week, a notion that curiously escapes me when these Monday night yoga disruptions come on.

The last class was a repeat of classes some six weeks ago, when the very dark skinned E. Indian arrives in class at the last minute and sits beside me at a spot that was left open. How this particular entrance timing and mat location selection "happens" so many times for this one particular individual cannot be a coincidence. Not only was a prime mat location left open for him while some 15 other yogis filed in beforehand in th preceding 15 minutes, but it the whole thing tells me that everyone else was arriving according to a schedule and in accordance to a seating plan. In seating himself beside me, this E. Indian  male also "happened" to place himself in front of the mirror reflection of this pretty blonde girl I had been checking out for the prior 15 minutes. So, instead of her gorgeous visage in the mirror, I get the fugly E. Indian male, a regular in terms of stalking next to to me. (Another case of bait and switch; babe, and then the fugly dude arrives later in her place). And again liek the last time, the poor fellow got too hot and had to remove his shirt for crissakes. I think they should ban this practice and have everyone keep their shirts on in yoga class. I suppose this whole deal is about exposing me to a whole lot of dark skin from 4' away, something I wouldn't ordinarily be exposed to for any length.

And the E. Indians continue to plague me at the construction site. Anytime I change a floor that I am working on, or re-assigned to a new task, they "happen" to arrive or else already be in place, jabbering away. I am down for three of these events this week, normally at least two more per week. In a stunt of high absurdity, they even parked themselves on ladders immediately outside the elevator doors that I was to exit from. The elevator operator had to ask them to pack it up. Again, more ladder games, this time from a high-prominence stalking ethnic subpopulation.

A good show at The Dream Cafe last week, and although I did not get any protracted staring from the performers, I got a lot of direct looks from one of the threesome. At one point he said, "I truly believe that good will prevail in this world..." and then shot a look at me, some 40' away against the back wall and in the dark. Like WTF: don't look at me for any kind of affirmation on that; all I know is sustained and relentless abuse as a mind controlled subject, and knowing my family was in on it from the get-go and are therefore are a bunch of sick-assed perfidious quislings who should be given the usual war time justice for such ilk.

My vineyard employer had a harvest party this Thursday; "no kids" said the invitational text, and lo, there were at least four of them parading by me with the usual (perp patented) "look-away" countenance. As to why I get kiddie-stalked all the time I have no idea, but I consider it the apogee of mental depravity, to send or bring one's children into stalk a lifetime victim of senseless and relentless abuse. For those parents who send their children on these missions, go fuck yourselves.

Said harvest party was about three hours and I met up with some old faces, my foreman, the owners (employers) and a few others. I met some new winemakers and industry folks, and enjoyed the company. An interesting looking woman I hadn't seen before was across the room, and eventually when she "happened" to look my direction from 15' away, she had this disparaging and nasty look. OK, I get it; you got my attention and then made sure I was roundly disappointed. I know this routine, and don't consider it too different than the occasions at the hair stylist school where I get my hair cut, when a personable and talkative stylist first cuts my hair. Some six weeks later on my return visit the same stylist won't even look at me, and makes a big point of been seen but not being in any way friendly. Same old thing; bait and change, usually for the worse.

And I get the sense that my perceptions of many of the stalking and stunts that so well known to me over these past 16.5 years of this berserk and overt abuse are getting remotely dithered by the perps. That is to say, my identification (or cognition) of the fraught and torturous reality that I have been kept in, (the stunts and incidents and their relationship to past patterns), and which is immediately recognizable and familiar to me, is now being cognitively interfered with. For example, the above mentioned kiddie stalking only "occurred" to me some hours after the event when normally I would of identified it right then and there. Which is to say, the perps have begun a new phase of deleting my knowledge of their abusive methods as they occur. Not a good sign, and likely has more ominous ramifications. Or put another way, the assholes won't allow me to identify their relentless and consitent stunts and supporting routines as they occur.

Anyhow, I should get this one posted for the week so I don't get backed up.

Sunday, November 04, 2018

Decision Making Stalking

Just what is it about making a decision that so interests these assholes who have been overtly hounding my ass for the last 16+ years? The same crew that runs and ruins my existence (not called a life any more), down to infinitesmal levels of detail, also needs to rag my butt whenever I make a decision. And of course, they like it too when I am forced to revoke a decision, modify it, or hit the wall and cannot make one in the face of an confluence of confliction eruption.

Nowhere is this more evident than when I go out in the stores and go shopping as I did today, a Sunday off. The stalkers arrive ahead of me at the store aisle location where I am interested in something, (and usually I cannot find it at first, delaying the decision making episode of course), then one stalker screws off and another one comes by, and if I feel I am getting too crushed by the procession and/or clusterfuck of these Fuckwits, I abandon the exercise and head out to the cashier. Another variation is to present unexpected alternatives, say (today), glass cleaning wipes instead of the glass cleaning spray foam that I was looking for, and then have me "decide" if the new-to-me alternative is better. (I bought both, never trusting new items that I "happen" to find). Another momentary decison reflection moment is when they jack with the price and I process this and then re-decide. This constant hounding of me today in the Cambodian Tire store (not its real name) is plain fucking insane. I rarely go to this larger hardware and home ware store as I get constantly skunked, (that is, don't find what I am looking for) and stalked too, but they do have automotive things that the alternative store doesn't have.

And why would some endlessly funded deep black (and relentlessly malevolent and psychopathic) organization hound my ass over when I make a decision? My father could never seem to make a decision, and in viewing and suffering from his traits when in his care, I resolved never to be such an ditz, and as far as I know, I am not when it comes to this activity. Which begs the larger question, just what are the perps after in this context? Could it be that a decison is a branch point in the Many Worlds Quantum Mechanics Interpretation (MWI -Gizmodo's version)  and that the assholes are attempting to determine this theoretical event in actuality and in real time? Add in the gangstalkers, whom may fulfil the role of "vibe cohorts", a la this quote from a neuroscientist;

"The more we study engagement, we see time and again that just being next to certain people actually aligns your brain with them..."

and maybe the perps are onto some kind of many worlds quantum detection methodology in real time. Not that I give a rat's ass about it, all I want to be is left the fuck alone. And not forgetting that this same crew does teleportation and telekinesis as a normal everyday practice in the course of delivering their abuse as I have come to know it. Not only are they very far ahead of human capabilities, (aided by supressing scientific research) but they have a research agenda beyond that even. One can research the Many Worlds Interpretation for hours online, but for me, it doesn't do much, as I just don't have the cognitive capability to take it all in and process it. It is interesting though that the perps had me "discover" Hugh Everett and his MWI a couple of years ago, something that I would not be ordinarily interested in.

Then added to the above is another litany of insane interest by the perps, which is the act of measuring something. Or, even estimating, guessitmating, and all variations of certainty that can occur in the process. This too has Many Worlds Interpretation implications, with the theoretical notion that the world, or one's perception of it, splits when one takes a measurement. Or, alternatively in the Copenhagen quantum mechanics interpretation, there is a wave function collapse, and the observer is part of the quantum system. Well I suppose, if one can somehow eliminate the observer's cognitive awareness at the time of measurement, just maybe something else can be discovered. Whatever, just leave me the fuck alone. I don't operate at these rareified levels of theoretic debate and have no interest in doing so. Again, one can go for weeks in chasing down all the theoretical ramifications of this, but leave me out of it.

And it is unlikely to be happenchance that the perps have me in a current job where I have made many measurements often over the past three months of this construction gig. (I am installing chair railing at major hospital construction site). And if they have been covertly following me all these years (as it seems) until they went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002, I have had plenty of prior measuring experience. I worked in forest inventory for many summers, and took tree measurements for diameter and heights often, for both one time samples (temporary plots) and also permanent sample plots where one returns to a site with number tagged trees and remeasures the same identical ones every 5 or 10 years or so. That is, differing crews in differing measurement field project initiatives return to gather this data for determining tree growth statistics so they may be grouped and extrapolated into growth functions to predict future forest growth, and thereby support forest harvesting decisions.

Another curiousity, likely related though I don't know how, is the perps' interest in me when percieving time. Today is when the daylight savings time is converted back to standard time, and the perps have demonstrated a long interest in that since they went into overt harassment mode. This year, my difficult-to-adjust Timex digital sports watch "somehow" got snagged and thereby changed a week ago to exactly one hour earlier, and thereby saving me the extreme hassle of attempting to change it myself. Even the watch repair guys had a tough time changing it in the spring owing to sticky or otherwise reluctant change buttons. And yes, I have the manual for the watch, but it defies the prescribed instructions. On at least half the occasions where I had to change the time on my watch, I had to take it in to a jeweller and have them change the time for me. An astonishing coincidence by any means, and with at least three digital watches in the last 16 years, all the more so. (Not counting the two analog watches that "failed", both with steel mesh bands, that "happened" when the assholes first mugged me with this psychopathic outrage in 04-2002). Add the perception of time to the above mentioned decision making and measuring interest the perps have and see if you can develop a coherent thesis on what they are after.

Yesterday, in an infuriating mind-fuck bout of decision over-ride, I went grape harvesting with my fickle friend at his boss' site. I hadn't been in a vineyard since mid-August when I my employment was terminated as they had no further work. Going by last year, my former employer would of phoned me up at least three times and asked for some spot help for grape harvesting. Yesterday, it ended up that the rain came on about 1100h, and we picked until 1700h as there was a transfer truck with a fork lift waiting for all the harvested grapes. Normally they shut down harvest operations when it rains, but not this time. Which of course, meant that I wasn't fully prepared for picking in the rain as they always shut the harvest down, and I expected that they would this time too. But the end of it, I was cold and wet, a situation that I always am prepared for by bringing extra clothing, but "somehow" I got faked out this time. Well done assholes.

I had wanted to take yesterday, a Saturday, off to to go to the walk-in doctor clinic and get my four Rx renewed. It was my plan, or decision if you will, to do so for at least the prior 6 days, and when my fickle friend phoned Friday night to ask if I was available for picking the next day, I immediately said "yes". As to why, I have no idea, as I had other plans for my Saturday. These kind of mindless cannot-say-no "decisions" have been "happening" more of late, and I am getting increasingly pissed off at this owing to the downstream inconveniences.

And of course, interuptions in my Rx intake have been long part of the perp's games, and having them run out, even for a day or two, suits their agenda perfectly. It just pisses me off intensely that I cannot be allowed to consistently apply a remedy to fix, or attend, to a medical problem that they brought on in the first place. Or in the least, a problem that they are managing. Just more grist for the nonconsensual research agenda, these Rx intake variations, as they would see it. And too, it would be in keeping with another of their long standing sabotage objectives that "no good deed go unpunished", or alternatively, that "no effective habit/remedy go unsabotaged", a theme that has come up in many prior postings.

Enough said for now, and onto posting this.

Sunday, October 28, 2018

Constrution Site Adversity Confluence

The construction site where I am currently gigging has its moments, perhaps follies. Being a major hospital expansion, it has particular requirements, one being that dust control during construction is maintained. But gee, how about the general contractor exhibit some coordination of trades to make sure they aren't getting in each other's way.

For example, we had a trailer load of mill work arrive, and just then, they decided there was no access to the building. The two stairwells were blocked, as was the usual route, the first floor parkade due to surfacing. But as there was no place to go, we had special permission. But that didn't stop the surfacing outfit from passing by and spraying us with sharp stones, the kind that are embedded in a surface coating. Then some 30 fridges came to cross us up and get in our way of loading the pallet contents.

And as mentioned many times in this blog, the perps have a rabid obsession with shipping pallets, especially when I am around them, on them, handling them etc. This time was no exception as flushes of dudes from other trades kept coursing past as my co-worker (read on) and I were moving the pallet contents around. Then if being in the middle of these dudes walking past wasn't enough, why, the jabbering E. Indians were there where we dropped the pallet contents off. This latter ethnic group, also highly Unfavored, never seems to let up at key perp moments.

I went to see the Good Doctor in Kelowna today, and she wasn't on top of her game, and she looked puffy, like she was on an antidepressant. She wasn't wearing her wedding ring for the third time in the past three visits, though in the first 2015 visit she told me a little about her husband who is a doctor... As to whether all this is for sure I don't know, but I will take it at face value for now, especially as I haven't seen her since 02-2018. I have been through past one time stunts that were later shown to be such, but given that this is a third time event, I am willing to grant the benefit of doubt. There is something about the perp's agenda that they like to generate false empathy, though I am not sure in this case.

Said doctor forgot to order an iron study, as opposed to just ferritin, which is iron storage and can be artificially boosted by inflammation. She should of known this, as this has been the case in the last two years, and she twice prescribed an iron IV, administered by her, which was helpful. And she forgot that I don't absorb ingested iron very well, something she through her native perceptual diligence had determined back in 2016. She didn't seem to up on the prostate radiotherapy treatments I had last year; and it was her advice I largely followed rather than the local urologist Fuckwit who would of yanked out my prostate without an blink of an eye. (And the same urologist who somehow "failed" to tell me about the radiotherapy option (at a well run public radiotherapy clinic), a disgraceful lapse of professional advice which I won't ever forget. My landlord has also had similar "difficulties" with this same urologist as he related this past summer).

It also seemed that my patient history wasn't fully known to her, when I figured it should be, as she had all the data, and by my expectation, should of recalled much of our past interactions. (I take my own recollection abilities to be the low setting on the proverbial bar). I have next to no insight on the clinical professional's world, and how much they might recall about any given patient, it is just seems mighty peculiar that she, of considerable clinical analytical capabilities had such recall lapses. It was she who introduced me to testosterone injections, on account of her incisive reading of the data that indicated that I was not taking the rub-on kind in. Somehow, she had forgotten this too. Perhaps this was another episode of clinical forgetfulness on her part that the perps deemed I needed to be exposed to. If this was the case they succeeded. Or perhaps this is part of a long term perp arrangement as they like to arrange competency dependence, and then have the competent member slowly slip into a state of circumspection by the other party (me). If this is the case, just leave her alone as she is the best doctor I have ever known. Or perhaps, this is whole fucking skit, again, another perp agenda item for whatever reason.

The Good Doctor did exhibit some recall that I though she wouldn't. Not a wholly strange visit, but a little perturbing that she somehow had such lapses of recall when it seemed she had considerable abilities. Anyhow, I have a phone call appointment next week and I can hopefully get this iron deficiency on track again, for the third year in succession. (BTW, iron deficiency is common among ADD patients).

A Friday on the construction site, and my co-worker  was being passive aggressive again. As in acting weird, but not saying anything. I couldn't quite figure it out, as I texted the boss about a mistake we made, and was wondering if we should proceed to fix it, or leave it as it made perfect sense to do so as we normally go all the way around with our chair rail installation. I though he was annoyed that I revealed that we made a mistake to the boss, as he might be a very contained personality who is disinclined to not reveal such. Hard to read this guy.

But for someone who picks up the needed tool just before I do, some 20x per day for over two weeks now (some kind of control deal going on it seems), and has these inexplicable unexpressed pissy moments, and rarely offers any conversation, he is becoming a pain.

My Russian born co-worker went on another petulant hissy fit again; I called him on his bullshit and he didn't like it. He didn't like that I texted the boss about an anomalous situation, where an electrical box was crossing the chair rail we were installing. (In fact, he wasn't keeping to the specification he told me about yesterday). This time he aired his grievance, such as he perceived it, and I am still trying to figure out where his is coming from. He was extolling his past residential construction experience and how the electrical box could be easily moved. Like WTF; this is a hospital construction project, and we are mill work installation laborers. We don't touch other trades' stuff, -end of tune. So what was his grievance then? Likely some kind of internalized notion that he is "in charge" (of me), and I violated this by going to the responsible person (our foreman) by way of sending a text about the electrical box anomaly. Besides, my co-worker's notion about the electrical box was to leave it there and cross the chair rail over the plate and then cut the plate around the box. Fucking absurd, and I don't do absurd unless someone is standing over me telling me to do it.

As part of this confrontation, he tells me to "trust me, as I have lots of construction experience". If EVER there was a call sign to wholesale aversion, it is someone telling me to "trust me". As in run the other way, though to be fair, he is only 28 and was only immersed in Western culture at age 16 or so, all while learning English.

Later he tells me the drill bits weren't working, and I then ask him which ones he used, and he used the wrong ones. As part of this disagreement that finally got aired, but not resolved, I get this "trust me" jive from him as well, from someone who comes up with numerous diversionary ideas that don't pan out. No wonder Russia is so fucked up if this is the prevailing mentality.

By way of curious coincidence, my regular co-worker of the last month, the aforementioned Russian one who pulled a full-on petulant passive-aggressive hissy fit over fuck-all yesterday, (per above, and now I have had 24 hours to evaluate his performance, I am sticking to my same perspective, as in, "what was that about?"), was re-assigned to work with the cabinet installers on the scaffolding. So..., apart from some job hand-over dialog, I didn't get to talk to him much, though I saw him many times owing to my other duties in the same vicinity. He seemed friendly even, and the boss man didn't say anything anyhow.

There was the cut room to clean up, the vacuum cleaners to empty, their filters too, there were cabinets to re-locate, then another panic came on, as other pallets of mill-work had to be suddenly moved, re-cut on a different floor, and then re-distributed to their appropriate floors. Then the only elevator was shut down, due to testing apparently, and I was stiffed with re-distributing this heavy MDF material to six floors by packing it up the stair wells. And lo, if "somehow" I "forgot" to re-load my water bottle this morning and I was utterly parched by day's end. Then onto the local store to get some water on the way home, and I slugged down a 500ml of coconut water while driving. Another water intake test again, as in, where I get my drinking water from.

I was working on my own doing chair rail installation in a room with little traffic, and lo, if the E Indian cleaners didn't arrive some 15 minutes before I finished up. Then some other things went wrong, and I was kept in the room longer with these jabbering Punjabis again. Utter torture.

More work hauling pallets and flushes of Fuckwits around me again, as well as garbage disposal duties, another perp obsession.

There was another ludicrous imposition by the general contractor again, as they wanted the scaffolding down, which had only been up one day. This was to enable my mill work installation colleagues to install panels in this atrium, as there was no other way to do it as a scissor lift wasn't feasible. The scaffolding went up late Wednesday, and my co-workers were on the job all day Thursday. First thing on Friday morning, the general contractor wanted the scaffolding down when the atrium panel job wasn't complete. The general contractor was told it would be a three day job in advance, and this was the start of day two. Like WTF; is the general contractor deranged or something? How do they expect to retain any credibility when they are constantly coming up with this bullshit.

Saturday, and a leg wax, and then I went up the street to help out my fickle friend. He is purchasing some used furniture and needed help to move it into his vehicle. His vehicle is a 2008 Ford Escape, and mine "happens" to be a 2001 Ford Escape. Anyhow, it ended up being a half day event to Kelowna, and he treated me to a nice lunch at a trendy charcuterie resturant there.

Then back to his place of employment where he was to borrow the pickup truck, but his boss man had taken it elsewhere. So we did some wine tasting of the active ferments, the Kerner and the Muscat Ottonel.

More moving of furniture (something I do at work a lot, or cabinetry to be accurate), with my fickle friend this morning. A couch and chair, which represented a whole lot of challenges to get out of a basement suite with a tight turn at the entrance door.

Then an afternoon at work, which became protracted as a tractor trailer load of cabinetry was delay for two hours. And it was the "usual" problem as these pallets are 8' long and the pallet jack cannot lift the heavy loads, and the wheel rises up ioff the ground. There were two other general laborer guys who helped out, and lo, if the truck driver was an E. Indian and he helped out too. I worked in the trailer to free up the loads screwed to the floor and forward them to the guys on the ground who where hand packing them into the adjacent parkade.Anyhow, working some five hours directly with the boss man never hurts.

After some two weeks of banter, I had better get this posted.

Sunday, October 14, 2018

The Most Pointless Doctor Visit

Finally the anticipated "big nothing" came down to just that. It was this requirement that I be subject to a sleep study by the Bellevue doctor that I do a sleep study back in August. And lo, if there wasn't a good facility in this part of the world, and I got a referral from the walk-in doctor. And all this started when I resumed my ADD Rx, as I wasn't getting a consistent sleep on them. I met with the local licenced sleep doctor, also a shrink as it turned out, who I thought was a limp fish of major proportions. But I played along, and did the study, going to Kelowna and sleeping overnight in the facility there with all the wires attatched to my head, neck, chest abdomen and feet.

So today, I visited the limp fish doctor for the results, and yes, there is some hypo-apnea, not full blown sleep apnea, and I don't snore much either, but no significant clinical issues. She wanted me to work through this one page sleep remedy page, full of good practices and all that for 2-3 months, and I told her it was ridiculous for someone with ADD to stick with something that doesn't mean very much, especially while they were sleeping.

I told her the biggest problem for sleep interuption was these painful leg cramps in the night, as they not only cause me to wake up, but I also need to get up and walk them off. She was no help on that, and while she suggested magnesium cream, she couldn't prescribe it, because as she said, that was the job of my GP. I told her yet again that I don't have one, cannot get one here, and that I go to a walk-in doctor when I am such shape that I need to suffer a 2 hour wait in the office. (Read, unlikely to happen).

Along the way, she said also that I wasn't getting enough deep sleep, and I said that it was likely neuro-hormonally governed (read, dopamine) and there wasn't much I could do about it. Still she insisted that going through the supplied worksheet would help. A few more back-and[-forths on related issues convinced me the doctor was a stultified twit, operating from her script, that wasn't any bit validated in the real world, especially for those with ADD, even if she was a shrink. (Sleep problems are endemic for those with ADD).

But to her credit, sort of, she told me that the half-life of the ADD Rx I was using was 12 hours, and not 8 as I had been led to believe. And furthermore, what I had known, was the effect had totally dissipated after 8 hours, and wasn't a half life. So.... it seems, that two doctors, her being one, had "failed" to inform me that the ADD Rx has a much longer treatment window than I knew, and that this whole sleep study was a bullshit show from the get go. And besides, I worked it out over the past four weeks that if I take the ADD Rx before 1000h, I can get a good night's sleep, which was exactly what I had been doing.

Anyhow, the appointment was over, and she showed me to the medical assistant, and then greeted the incoming patient(s) -a couple, and didn't have the decent grace to say goodbye, and thanks very much. So not only was she a stultified twit of a doctor, but a fucking rude-ass IMHO, as I didn't absolutely nothing to piss her off. I sought her knowledge on getting to good sleep habits, especially with these excruciating nighttime leg cramps, and she had nothing to offer.

So what was that bullshit all about? Well, it would seem, having me sleep with electrodes attached to my head, neck, etc., perhaps 12 in all, for an overnight sleep in another town. And guess what, we did this bullshit back in Seattle where I lived in 2001. The then doctor wanted me to do a weekend long EEG, so I wore all this crap on my head all weekend, and there was no need for it then. I have ADD, and showed this doctor my brain scan, and still this doctor ordered all these unnecessary tests, the EEG being one. (Sleep habits weren't an issue then). So it would seem that the perp assholes wanted yet another needless EEG event, and concocted this latest ridiculous shit show that was "caused" by two shrinks in succession who somehow "failed" to know the half life of the ADD Rx I am taking. Go figure.

And no points awarded as to why I fucking loathe psychiatrists, the archetypes of clinical techno-lies to send you anywhere their masters dictate. And don't ever forget that is their true purpose, which is why they collectively resist quantifiable data practices like getting a brain scan. Never mind the sick-assed criminals like Dr. Ewen Cameron of McGill University, and his staff of 20 or so, who trashed countless patients, some of whom died from terminal surgeries (Duplessis Orphans), from 1948-1963. And he was the instigator, if not founder, of the World Psychiatric Association no less. No crime went unrewarded for this crowd.

And still heavy pit-lamping everywhere I go, especially when making turns in my vehicle, parking or pulling away from from my vehicle. Add in the twits sitting in their vehicles, headlights on of course, everytime I pull into a parking lot, and it seems like this odious gangstalking practice has increased of late, and is being kept at this elevated state for at least six weeks now.

And then at the construction site where I am still employed, but perhaps for only a few weeks more, I am getting constantly hounded in similar, though ambulatory, circumstances. Anytime I turn a corner, exit a room, get on an elevator etc. And also, keeping the jabbering Punjabis around me seems to a continuing priority as well.

Another construction job gangstalking site of high coverage is the polyethylene sheet "doors", where they erect a sheet of clear polyethylene, often with a zipper in it, as an ostensible means to control dust (or building airflow). But as it "happens", the Punjabi drywall crews have abandoned this practice, and now create dust as they see fit. The rooms where we are allowed to cut wood and MDF boards are also bounded off with polyethylene sheets, and I am a regular daily visitor to clean these rooms up. My work mate does most of the cutting, due to his "need" to take over this function in some kind of territorial predilection, so when he returns to the room we are installing chair rails, he has exited the polyethylene doors, often more than one set. (In the meantime, while he is cutting, I am drilling holes in the walls to mount the support strapping for the chair rails).  I have long given up on the perp's need for "plastic stalking" but it does reach my awareness on some occasions. Likely whenever they want me to be aware.

Saturday, and a in keeping with having multiple appointments in close spacing, I had my hair cut and got my vehicle tires swapped, following on from the above mentioned "most useless doctor's appointment" from the prior day. Getting my tires swapped is a big deal, given the perps interest in rubber, and all things rotational. I have been 16 years into knowing about this one, and am largely inured as to even being aware of it.

The hair stylist was attractive, even with some tasteful non-natural color in her hair (scarlet red),  but didn't say much. They usually have these hair stylist students practice customer engagement skills, but not this time. No big deal, and my getting my cut was relatively stress free.

Another week passes, and one has to wonder why two needless EEG tests, 17 years apart. These fuckers never give up.

Wednesday, October 10, 2018


That would be Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada. No work this long weekend, and of course, no overtime. And no invites to the vineyard I helped out last year, worth $200/day for my grape picking efforts, not to mention one day of running the forklift for them. I also was supplied with dinner out of the deal, and as I am on good terms with this former employer, I thought that there would be a return invite, as in prior years. But no, and if I have it right, I would assume my manipulators have their own reasons for keeping me house bound this long weekend.

The perp assholes have been pulling door thumps on my residence each evening of late, only one or two each day, and often coincident when I come to some realization, usually from a thought process that is idling in the back of my head. It is a single thump, not a knock, and of course, there is no one there. Not that I look, as I have been conditioned to regard these unconventional noise/vibration intrusions as "its the Thems again".

Another week of construction laboring passed, and it was relatively OK. The usual increased flux of dudes around me, often when I just get to a room to do work, or else when transiting hallways and turn a corner. The elevator egress is also fraught with games too.

Though the E. Indian workers (cleaners and dry wallers), are a particularly "sticky" bunch, meaning that they always seem to be hanging around me, and made themselves little more annoying this week. Not only from their jabbering when around me, and being particularly frequent in my proximity, but also distinguishing themselves by being particularly rude. Not only do they not communicate, or even engage in opening doors or allowing passage in tight places, (normal for all other construction workers), but they seem to come on in surges around me. As I see it, I have done my "E. Indian time", listening to them all day long when working in vineyards, sometimes for months, though never  a full season. And so, here they are again, a particularly featured stalking subpopulation for whatever perp reason sits behind all this. (Perhaps because my brother married one?)

Today, as I was handling a pallet in the hallway of the construction site, where the egress was constrained by the pallet where my co-worker and I had been working and just completed unloading, why, an E. Indian threesome of males "happens" to pass by, and one of them collides with me and keeps on going. That this crowd doesn't do "sorry" isn't news to me, but as I see it, you either fit in or go home. Anyhow, having stalkers run into me isn't new either, but having brown skinned ones go this rude on me is a new one. And of course, any time I am handling pallets begets extra flushes of dudes around me, but this time it was the E. Indian's turn. So go fuck yourselves, all the stalkers for that matter. And for that matter, civic manners should be part of the citizenship test, and if they fail, they go home. Same for learning English. I don't know why we have to put up with this seditious government sponsored nonsense.

That this same crowd had the elevator stuffed with four step ladders for one of my trips down from my working floor to the first floor later in the day didn't surprise me. I don't know what the deal is about the perps and step ladders, or any kind of ladder for that matter, but it was a signature stalking prop from the get-go when all this shit rained down on me, 04-2002. As in the perps, who had been surreptitiously following and arranging my life suddenly went berserk/overt and made it known that they considered me a Prime Victim and introduced me to their unconventional technologies and malevolent and relentless abuse.

And I suppose, one of two of them strutting around on stilts in my proximity for drywall work was also part of the plan, as the perps just love to have their stalkers at a different elevation from me, often by using stairs or like.

The disposable booties work place wearing requirement is still going on, though running out of steam. They went through 5,000 pairs in three days and haven't been able to keep up, putting bins up at the exit doors, where one can re-use booties placed there from others. Never mind that these retread booties are in terrible shape, and it also does cause me to wonder what the management is thinking when they want workers to fish through the bins to find pairs that can survive being put on, never mind re-use.

The owner of the millwork firm for whom I work came to visit the work site for two days this week; he seems like a decent guy, and not one of those relentless hard asses that I so often meet. He even took us all out for drinks and dinner at a nearby pub later. I chatted with him for a time, about the business and related matters. Gosh, I was treated like a normal for once, and not given the usual looks of dread and tension I get.

And the reason for a missed yoga class the prior week came into focus; a new yoga instructor. I believe it has been an everytime event now; whenever a new instructor comes on, (usually unbeknownst to me), they have me miss the first class. And after stalking my ass in yoga with tattoo cases of other yogis in my proximity, why, they now have this new instructor plastered with this fugly body mutilation. All over her arms no less, and quite a gross-out. At best, past instructors had a little tattoo on their foot or something, but this is quite the unavoidable tattoo show.

The new instructor has a more demanding tone and is less inclined to be chatty or relaxed. It has been apparent over the last five years of yoga that they have, in prior years, pulled such instructors in short order and replaced them with more friendly ones. It would seem that this instructor is returning to that fold they were testing me out in prior years; the tone and nature of the instructor's verbal delivery also seems to be a big deal for the perps.

And too, the yoga class underwent a major re-population (same class, same day and time); hardly any of the recent regulars, and to my relief they seemed to have dispensed with the E. Indian that was hounding my ass for the last 8 weeks. I have never figured out how the yoga class gets populated, apart from the Unfavored specimens being injected, as it seems there are hardly any regulars beyond 3 months.

Anyhow, I am late in getting this posted, and I shall cut the news off for now.

Sunday, September 30, 2018

Get Yer Booties On

 Monday, and for some curious reason I got screwed out of yoga tonight. Normally, if there is such a thing, Mondays are good for many statutory holidays through the year, e.g. Labor Day, and therefore, classes get cancelled. For whatever reason they didn't want me there, and had me "misread" the clock, and also get consumed with hair plucking, and by the time I was allowed to figure it out, it was too late. Well done assholes, but what is the excuse this time? Maybe they wanted to put a freak, aka Unfavored specimen, in my exact location of my mat, without me there. They have no compunction about sending in someone early to occupy my usual mat location to force me somewhere else, which isn't a big deal, though this time it seems my presence wasn't desired. So it goes in this arcane and insane choreography, never more evident by the gangstalking Fuckwits that need to cross my path, ahead or behind in such close timing, or else stand where I stood, say in queues.

And at the construction job, we are now to wear disposable booties; I caught it in the ear because they weren't on right, then later, when wearing them outside (I did not plan to enter the building with them on).

The disposable bootie requirement is now running at 200 pairs an hour project wide, and especially for those trades that need to go in and out of the building.

This was a situation I was in, along with my co-worker as we had to move cabinets on a dolly from the parkade into the building, which was at least 8 trips for the pair of us.

The assholes pulled a big finger cut on my L index finger, as the cutting knife "somehow" skipped off the plastic pallet strapping and into my finger. It was of such a degree that I had to grab it right away to staunch the blood flow, and attend to it at our office and use the first aid kit. It was a ten minute job to clean it up, as well as anything else I came into contact with. Well done assholes. And haven't we been through enough of this "blood sampling"? Apparently not. Last week my co-worker was cut, though much less, and wouldn't put a band-aid on.

And true to form, they then use this injury to turn me into a bigger klutz than I am already. This "habit" goes back decades, when finger cuts somehow made me more clumsy and fine motor skill impaired.

Another favorite jerkaround is that they like to aggravate a healing wound, which they did the next day. For "some reason" I placed my injured finger near the collapsible dolly mechanism and it got momentary pinched at the wound. It could of been a lot worse, and at the end of the day when I re-bandaged it, there was only a small bleed from this follow-on episode.

A day I would of gone hiking, but no, the rain came on and so it turned out to me a mellow day at home mostly, save a trip to SOF supermarket.

And it seems quite plain that the "herding" has reached greater proportions, not just today. This is where they obstruct the location I intend to go to, or else, stalk my ass and force me along different routes than the direct routes I usually take in the same stores I frequent.

And to add insult to injury, the assholes have given me a cold, my first in years. The cold and flu fuckery ended back in 2012 when I began a once per week tanning habit. And as it turns out, tanning generates dopamine as well as the more known vitamin D. On with the echinacea and vitamin C, and we shall see what happens this week.

The sleep issue has diminished significantly from 08-2018; if I take my ADD Rx before about 1000h, it isn't a problem. The Rx is a time released design, and specified to last 8 hours. But "somehow" the sleep interference problem persists for much longer, such that I get no sleep all night if I take it later. I have no idea how it could possibly happen in conventional terms.

Anyhow, enough for the week and to see what the next brings.

Sunday, September 23, 2018

In the Sleep Study

The sleep study "thing" is over, though it wasn't the ordeal that one might read into it. More like a hotel stay in another town, but with all manner of electrodes attached. The "ordeal" part of it was that I was wondering if I was going to actually sleep, or end up fitfully tossing and turning (as in recent months), but with restrictive wires attached. I managed to sleep mostly, and a few awakenings, and we shall see what all this data will say in a few week's time.

In fact, my sleep has been fairly consistent for the past two weeks, as long as my ADD Rx are taken before 1000h. But as I didn't want to reduce the risk a sleepless night in a sleep study (a waste of time), I backed off on the ADD medication for two prior days.

And lo, the assholes pulled a dream invasion stunt in the middle of my wired (attached to electrodes on my head, chest, neck, and even a pair on each calf muscle), sleep. And too, a microphone for snoring detection. Now, its fear and trepidation over my results, as I don''t need another fucking ailment to deal with, and all the Rx contingencies etc. As well as the excuse to take me off my very useful ADD medication, something the assholes did in spectacular form back in 2002, and kept this up until this year, when I needed to get re-started because it was roundly apparent that the radiotherapy that finished 12-2017, was causing further dopamine deficiency issues. On with the never ending medication/ailment continuum, aka, nonconsensual human experimentation with a emphasis on dopamine physio-dynamics and function. As if taking down people for 100's of years with Parkinson's Disease wasn't sufficient.

The assholes also pulled a couple of small leg cramps in the night, though not enough to cause me to need to get up and walk them off. This has been standard fare for about 2x/week for the last two years, sometimes to excruciating pain levels, and a lot more of  the defeatable cramps as well. The latter can be ameliorated by me pressing my foot onto the wall while in bed and thereby relieving the cramp without getting up. Just in the last week, by way of a tip from a co-worker, the ionic magnesium (liquid) seems to be working in reducing nightime leg cramping. And the ADD Rx is also helping in that regard too. So with peculiar night time dreams (encountering Dr Amen for crissakes) and then minor night time leg cramps, one could say the perps did a good job of putting on a typical night time sleep.

It was interesting that the sleep study technician was neurologist, one who had emigrated with his family from Mexico, but couldn't practice in Canada as he was unable to afford a five year study regimen to qualify here. We engaged with some minor chat, and I briefly mentioned my dopamine-is-a-hormone thesis (based on scientific literature research), and per usual in the medical profession, he said squat. No discussion, no debate, nothing. Every one of them has done the same, now about 14 so far, an amazing "coincidence".

Yoga a few days earlier, 09-17-2018, and a near identical repeat of the choreographed freak show of the prior week. Same as the prior week, about 10-14 yogis filter in, some with serious fugly tattoos, and some serious fugly dudes included, and leaving a single open mat location to my immediate left. And in keeping with the standard freak show (Unfavored stalkers) choreography, the most significant freak arrives at the last minute, just as class is about to begin, and lo, it is this same very dark skinned E. Indian dude of the prior week. The exact same dude and exact same spatial and temporal arrangement as last week. Hard to call that random assemblage, by any stretch. Except this week this dude "decided" to take his shirt off about 15 minutes into class, in keeping with this absurd male "trend" which has erupted in the past two years. Only the perps would know why I need to be exposed to brown colors all the time, and brown skin colors especially, and this was no more exemplified by the now shirtless (first time) E. Indian male who has the knack of arriving at the last minute the same open mat location that was left for him by everyone else in the room. Said dude sat down on the couch beside me and briefly chatted with me after yoga class twice in two prior visits, but not this time. I suppose he had exercised his freakishness (Unfavoredness) to the maximum, however that is determined by the perps.

And plenty of dude stalking action at the construction job site, each work day this week. The time worn convergence stalking routine again, whereby they individually move toward me from different directions for some reason, though passing by the elevators is a good excuse. (The main route to upper floors, especially with tools and supplies, is by way of the elevators). They even went one more, by having a negro dude step into my intended path, he some 8' away with his head down and pretending to be clueless as to me about to pass through. At this point, other dudes started to move around in some kind of choreography to then confine my intended path to where the negro had stepped forward (for some curious reason), and who had now vacated this spot by stepping back to where he had been. (Normally, I would change my path and go around the whole lot of them). In other words, a totally pointless forth-and-back move, all while waiting for the elevator, the main access to the floors. (I could see this stunt making more sense if the elevator had just arrived and the negro and the other dudes then converged on the open elevator as I "happened" to be passing by. But no, make it look stupid and obvious, all to have me walk over the very ground the negro had momentarily stepped upon.) And how many times have I mentioned this path crossing stalking stunt, the converging stalkers (usually males), senseless back-and-forthing, and also the "herding" games they so like to pull? Probably 0.001% of the occasions these orchestrated stalking stunts play out when out in public.

And plenty of other negro stalking at the construction site this week, almost like a selected different one per day who is the assigned "dog me" all day long stalker. The one with the mini-dreads and the hang-dog look was especially busy on stalking duty one day, no matter what floor (of six) I was working on.

And too, the pointless "just stand there" stalking by one construction worker at the corner of the steel mesh fence around the SW corner. I 'happened" to pass by this corner on my way to the cafeteria, and lo, he was still there 20 minutes later when I returned, still looking as stupid as he was when I was outbound. Geez; give the guy a cell phone for crissakes and thereby furnish him an excuse for extended loitering, a common perp stalker tactic. (Having vagrants in public locations serves the same purpose I came to know early on in this game).

Another extra obvious stalking stunt was having a woman worker (this time) sitting on the concrete stairs waiting for the elevator while on her cell phone, and who then gets up and follows my ass out the door as I was passing by. I suppose the "just been sitting on concrete" energetic "vibe" act, having just been color and/or EMF calibrated by way of cell phone, needed to tail my ass through the poly sheeted doorway. (They use poly sheeted temporary doors while they are working on the real doors, or else to block off the passage of dust from the designated rooms for cutting wood and other materials).

Just as obvious is the extra pit-lamping coverage I am getting, especially when I get out of my just-parked vehicle. If I sit and wait, the dude who has pulled in behind me does the same thing, and if I get out as soon as I have turned off the engine, why, someone is timed to arrive as I am at the rear tailgate scrambling to get my work gear. One time they put on a motorcycle coming down the loose ground and weedy"sidewalk" on the R side of my parked vehicle, with a following sedan to arrive immediately afterward. And if there isn't someone pit-lamping my ass from 8' away, why, they are there across the street doing much the same, you know, the protracted parking excuse.

Back to the sleep study, with an ironic turn; after I drove home, a 50 minute drive arriving at 0730h, I had breakfast and two cups of coffee, and lo, if they didn't pull a three hour nap-attack on me thereafter. I was not sleep deprived at anytime this week, and it was totally unwarranted. Anyhow, they turned my Saturday into shit, and I ended up doing my usual chores, e.g. laundry, well into the afternoon. Changing up the timing of my usual activities is another perp specialty.

Enough for the week, and time to get this posted lest it lapse for another.

Sunday, September 16, 2018

Work Boot Sabotage; Round 6

Up a half hour earlier today, as we now start at 0630h as of today, and lo, such a difference in morning time routine has brought on a round of my most loathed noise, HD motorcycles. The owner across the back lane could of just fired it up and departed, but I suppose in the minds of the noisescape engineers, it just wouldn't do. So.... 15 min. of HD motorcycle throbbing and senseless rpm variation with the headlight aimed at my E window, even if was closed with a venetian blind. Never had this particular timing before.

But then again, the pit-lamping with headlights has increased, and couldn't be more obvious when I park my vehicle for work, a whole 5 minutes drive away. It seems every time some shit drives up behind me for on-street parking and then keeps their headlights on while I attend to my gear on the rear deck of the Ford Escape, rear hatch opened.

I got sufficiently pissed with this the third time this week, and out-waited the dude who pulled behind me, walking away from his vehicle while with the headlights on. (I wasn't going to tell him that). Or at least that is what I thought, but no, his missus was sitting in the vehicle with the engine running, still in the passenger seat, staring at her phone. Like WTF; if it was a shared vehicle situation, why did they park behind me and not swap drivers two blocks closer to his work site, the hospital construction site? Go figure.

The work boots I purchased new in 2010, and wore all of three weeks (total) prior to this current construction gig of 3 weeks have now delaminated, yet again, at the sole. Prior to this gig, they were in the shop more than I ever wore them, and were repaired at least five times at various shoe repair shops. I even delivered them to Kelowna twice, a 50 minute drive, to wait four weeks in each instance, and STILL they "failed". As in the sole delaminating today while walking to work from my vehicle. Twice today I applied some serious glue to them and got the L boot repaired enough.

Then tonight I separated the soles from the uppers, sanded them with a grinder, applied serious glue, and screwed them. We shall see how this works out tomorrow.

Needless to say I am totally and fucking infuriated at this relentless and insane sabotage over these composite toed safety boots, the first such pair I have had. I have had enough footwear sabotage to last 5 lifetimes, and now, I have had five rounds of repairing these little used work boots. Just what is the matter with the perps that they need to fuck with these boots to such a degree? They don't mess with my steel toed rubber boots which I have worn considerably more, some 3 months/year for the last five years. Yes, I know, this is a totally differently constructed boot, but in all the full gamut of footwear sabotage, the perps have gone utterly berserk over this particular pair of work boots.

More dude rush/convergence at the hospital construction work site while I was handling the pallets again; about eight in file this time. Well, I suppose they could of all been from a single firm/subtrade and were coming in from a break. But still, the number of times the stalking show erupts when I handle pallets has been absurd.

I suppose it isn't enough that I am working around pallets all the time on this gig; removing the packed millwork (cabinets), and moving them to rooms for the installers to then install them. Then I take the empty pallets to the elevator and to the garbage, which is when the dude flush erupts, usually around a corner. The perps tell me that their interest in pallets stems from the fact that everything (nearly) is packed on pallets, and that the wood energy of the pallet is also infused into the items on the pallet, and of course, our dear perps need to sort out what energies come from where and how they dissipate (assuming that they do). As to all of this, I don't care; just leave me the fuck alone and quit using me as some kind of experimental fodder for figuring out this energetic event. No doubt they have plans to put me into this hospital in the years ahead, and then I get to energetically interact with the same palletized items, cabinets in this case, while recuperating; as in being kept in place. (And same flooring etc.) Again, leave me alone; I hate hospitals, and don't ever want to be a patient in one, not for a minute. (Been there, had it done to me, and was totally gangstalked by the "patients").

A most strange elevator event today; a full house of dudes heading to their respective floors to work, and one with a red backpack backs into me. And don't I know this stunt, as they pulled this a few months ago at the SOF supermarket while I was at the self-checkout. (That is, one of their very favorite place to stalk my ass, while about to make a financial transaction.) But the weird thing was that this backpack wearing dude then shows up at the elevator at the next floor up, and gets on. This time he had more room and didn't back his back pack into me. Like WTF; there was simply no way this guy could of ran up the stairs as the stairwells are at some distance from the elevators. Soo.. here we have a teleporting perp masquerading as a construction worker so he could twice stalk my ass on two floors in short succession. (In my estimation, they leave the unconventional activities to the real perps, where the hoi polloi (trades workers in this case) get to mill around me in a pre-arranged choreography).

And a small job to do at the old (extant) hospital; and lo, if it wasn't about shift change time, which supported all manner of staff passing by in the corridor. And if that wasn't enough, why, they put on a fugly negro woman with big dreads, who was preceding us hauling out pallets etc. In the usual fashion, I averted my gaze, and attended to something else, which should of given her enough time to leave the building and be out of sight. But no, she changed direction and was then coming at me again. The next day when heading into this same building for the coffee room, why, there she is again.

And too, negro male trades workers seem to be in greater quantity than normal for this town. And too, the E Indian cleaners also seem to be hanging around me like a bad smell, even from floor to floor. One even sits on the cabinets that we just delivered to a room so she can natter on her cell phone while at work.

A laundry day, and even if early, I got a major weird stalker there; a Fuckwit with tattoos up his neck and halfway onto his cheeks. Fucking awful, and I couldn't look at this freak for longer than it took to set off my internal "freak" warning alarm. And they didn't keep this guy lingering, posing, or doing reprise stalking either. Usually they have the Unfavored specimens, such as this, wander around so they can be seen from different angles as well as inside the building and outside. Not this time; he was pulled from the freak show immediately and wasn't there on my return trips.

A new pair of safety toed workboots had to be purchased today, given the constant bad luck show with the aforementioned pair. The ones that seem to defy repair, though I would posit that the boot repair guys were compromised to force this jerkaround. And this time, I got a good pair, which meant splashing out much more than I ever wanted to. Insult to injury over this fucking insane sabotage campaign, not to mention yet another hole in my pocket that I don't need.

Sunday, a whole day off, and the notion of doing my twice annual vehicle waxing came on, as isn't too hot these days. I got sucked into starting the project by procuring the automotive wax that I prefer, and lo, the tubby blonde cashier was friendly and smiled at me instead of the usual stricken and pained look I get. She attends to the purchase, then departs the cash desk momentarily and checks the same product on the shelf, returns to the cash register, and when finishing up she gives me this stare and flicks her eyes upward. Like WTF; first a friendly look and then when done, she gives me this weird look for no apparent reason. And afterward, I check the invoice and she gave me a discount even if I don't have an account there. Nice of her, and I would of thanked her had I known at the time of purchase.

Onto getting the vehicle cleaned at the automotive cleaning bays; all went well, and I took the vehicle on the highway for 20 minutes to dry it off. And it "happens" there was at least 50 motorcycles ahead of me, two abreast, one per lane, in some kind of major organized event. No big deal, as well as the ones coming from behind to join the pack. I haven't seen such an array of motorcycles in my whole life, so who know what that was about.

And then after waxing the vehicle's roof, why, the dark clouds roll in, spitting rain. Nix the waxing for a time, and have lunch until this disruption passes. It does, I get more of the vehicle done, and another rain comes on, so another wait. Then I got to finish the job on the third pass. The peps are nuts over this activity too, adding a thin coat of a colored wax which buffs out to be transparent. More color games for them I suppose.

I was finally allowed to get into a regular sleep habits again, even with taking my ADD Rx, as long as it is early in the day. No problem, just let me sleep normally, just like I always did, and when on these same medications previously.

Anyhow, another week done, and onto another and all the vagaries of being a nonconsensual human experimentation subject in situ.