Sunday, April 15, 2018

Two Hundred Thousand Page Views

"Page views all time history 200,072" says the statistics banner, and mine aren't counted in the total. I suppose that is a decent milestone for being a schmo at the butt end of an X-Files episode gone wrong for nearly 16 years. I have called it an abuse-athon, a relentless and senseless stream of covertly applied harassment and abuse for human nonconsensual experimentation purposes. Never mind that everyone else in my proximity seems to know, or be in on it, given the strange glances (and sometimes stares) I routinely get. And too, public behavior of others gets weird sometimes. And that I am kept in a densified magnetic field, first measured at 180-200 Gauss in late 2002, then 1800 Gauss sometime in 2008-09 on another (seeming) victim's equipment. In the first instance I rented industrial level equipment and spent many hours measuring, and I lived 12 stories up at the time.

Vineyard work, still tying vines down, and is going slower for some reason. lt was 1.5 hours per row, all rows the same length, and yet it was taking longer. At first I got 6 rows per day, then five, and even 4.5 one day. The perps like these productivity variance games, and I don't know how they do it. I suspect they interfere with one's sense of the passage of time as well as one's abilities to notice what one is doing. It seemed like one row was the same as the next and there was no substantial difference in between them.

Bottling wine today, though it was the same bottles we filled back in mid-March, but the labeling machine wasn't working. Then, the bottles got filled and then temporarily cased. And today, we finished the job, as the labeler machine was now repaired, and so the filled bottles went through the line, bypassing the cleaning, filling and capping machines, and went to the labeler machine. (I was informed today that a power spike caused the labeler's sensor's to fail back in March- we  know who can arrange that within a moment's notice, don't we?) Then the bottles came back around in the conveyor belt inside this mobile 40' trailer and we placed them in cases again. Quite a foorfaraw [n. a great fuss or disturbance about something very insignificant] to arrange a second time around for 3,000 bottles, but the perps and their unwavering obsession over having me involved in winemaking (and drinking wine to a lesser extent), are up to the task. And too, going back further in the chain, they have had me on viticulture laboring work for over six years now. And still they keep selling the idea that all this abuse will cease by next week on the sixteenth anniversary of this relentless atrocity. I am not buying it.

The bottling line, production line, working in close proximity with others, having a system that gets interrupted, and disrupted and perturbed through the conveyor system. The perps cannot get enough of this either, and I suspect it plays into their interest in dithering my perception of production rate as well as the innate learning of adapting to new situations.

A chilly and cloudy day of vineyard work today; thank goodness for my insulated ski jacket, even if the seams are strangely wearing out. Attempts to get a ski jacket in this off-season have turned to naught; one jacket I ordered was too small, and the return process was so ridiculous and fraught with "talking past me" support that I gave up. Sometimes one does wonder if a real person is at the other end of the "support" desk. When the support person gets the context and my intention blatantly wrong in 2 of 2 emails, one has to wonder if they are really human, or is it an automated reply with a person's name tacked on. And the perps would get no end of mileage out of that; thinking one was corresponding with a real person when it was a machine.

Yesterday was a nicer day in the vineyard, and I managed to replace the ski jacket for fleece vest, though the wind picked up later and I was glad for my toque.

Warm enough to have morning coffee break and then lunch outside at the winery picnic table. But I see the perps are up to their usual seat shuffling games again. I have sat at the S seat some 4x in the last two weeks when the weather has been cooperative. It is the most convenient and accessible seat, so one naturally gravitates there. This time, someone's papers were placed at that seat at coffee, and later at lunch, the boss lady was seated at the S seat on her phone, speaking in French. So I sat in the N seat next to the stainless steel clad winery equipment. Not a big deal, though I was pinched in some. These forced seat shuffling games go on all the time, and it just slays me as to why some deranged limitless budgeted agency has to force me to sit in different places at the same table all the time.

And still the financial transaction stalking games continue; tonight at SOF at the self checkouts, I saw my regular place had someone's groceries still there, bagged and paid for, with a banana hanging out of the bag. I go to the next one, and a few minutes later this woman with a backpack comes by, picks up the bag and starts eating the banana. And how many times has this banana stalking erupted in my presence? Too many to count. Then this woman starts gabbing to the checkout supervisor, and situates herself right behind me as I came to learn. She was close enough that I backed into her backpack, which caused me momentary imbalance. Said woman/stalker pretended to not notice in true perp fashion, and kept talking to the checkout attendant. And kept talking while all my groceries were checked. At one point I needed to call the checkout attendant over as the self-checkout glitched out, and she didn't know why. She fixed it, and the stalker woman kept jabbering away. Then my cell phone in my jacket rang, but I ignored it as I have experienced these "checkout calls" before, usually a telemarketer. I finished up by paying, (a financial transaction note), and then the two women closed in on me. The checkout attendant gathered up the empty basket right away, and the stalker woman came at me while still eating her banana. Then at one point, she picked up a newspaper and had it open, and then started talking to me (reading from it?) as I was gathering up my grocery bags. I ignored her and headed out. And what is so important about making a financial transaction that this batshit-wacko woman has to loiter around and push her backpack into my back all the while? (You know, the backing into me stunt, aka, "accidentally" on purpose). As the perps have been totally obsessed with this particular activity of making a financial transaction for close to 16 years, and presumably the prior 47 years before they went berserk/overt in 04-02002, this particular stunt wasn't out of the ordinary.

And I suppose, it was all the better that I had gone for a tan just before, and I was "lit up", or otherwise energized in some way that is advantageous for them.

I worked 9.5 hours this Saturday to finish the cane tying in the vineyard. Finally, the 4.5 acres is tied down, and so one can rest easy for a month or so. It was warmer today thankfully, unlike yesterday which was awful cold. My fingers are hacked up from the tie wire, and in addition they nailed my L thumb nail for 2 hours of minor bleeding. I was detecting a dogshit smell, and as the perps are fond of having step into such while in the vineyard, I checked the underside of my boots, and in doing so, broke my L nail. No dogshit attack as it turned out; which goes to show one how they can spook victims with fake smells. Nothing new there.

The big day came and went to a Very Big Nothing; this is the 16th anniversary of when they invaded my life in their berserk/overt assault that hasn't let up. (More in the next posting). And no cessation of hostilities either. My fingers are cut and aching from tying down, and still they run them into objects exactly where the hurt is. Including after work at the checkout at the supermarket. So... after four months of telling me this whole relentless 16 year long abuse-athon would end, sometimes 100+ times a day, nothing happens.

Sometimes I ponder how they will end this abuse-athon, and there are always a few likely considerations. Will it be an epic nonconventional assault like 16 years ago, or a soft slide into obscurity, possibly with imposed old age conditions? My vote is with the latter; they seem to revel in dopamine deficiency related issues, a hallmark of old age.

Today I went to my former employer of 2012-14 and helped them on their vine tie-downs. There are two others who work there, but in this ongoing game of rotating those in my proximity, both were away. And four clothing changes today; at first my heavy weather (yachting) rain coat which I have worn once in six years of vineyard work (or anywhere else), then the rain backed off so I wore my regular black ski jacket, then it got sunny so I wore my blue fleece vest, and then it got cold again (and wet for the last 10 minutes) so I reverted to the ski jacket again. I know, it sounds like a very dull account for a spring day, but the perps have an inordinate interest in what clothing colors and fabrics I wear.

Anyhow, enough for a posting and onto recovering from the 2.5 hour nap attack I got nailed with this evening.

Sunday, April 08, 2018

Read Some, Sleep Plenty

I read some more of the "Venona Secrets", a book about the players and spies who were uncovered by a three year security lapse that allowed some of the USSR diplomatic transmission codes to be decoded, though not all of them. Each day after work I pick it up and after 10 -20 minutes of reading, I either fall asleep in my chair, or else get hit with a nap attack. Let me be clear, if you have any interest in spy activity in the last 60 years, especially with respect to WWII and the Cold War, this is a fascinating read. And all the more illustrative of how personal politics was married to political treason, even at the senior influence level of FDR's cabinet.

Today, I got hit with a 2.5 nap attack after reading this book for 15 minutes, which is in keeping with the perps hitting me with nap attacks after starting a new book. I got this book a week ago, as a result of having a long standing interest in all things clandestine, doubtless a perp managed interest since their covert influencing has been apparent (in hindsight) since perhaps the days I learned to read, or even from birth. And as usual, I was no in a sleep deficit situation, so I have no idea as to why I needed so much sleep. And too, this seemed to be strategic as I missed my yoga class some 4 blocks away. Well done assholes.

Back in 2012, after taking a 3 month viticulture course, I purchased a used viticulture book which is a classic of the discipline. I read some 30 pages and then got nailed for a 5 hour nap attack (all time nap attack duration) immediately afterward, in mid afternoon. As usual, I was not running a sleep deficit, so I can only assume this was remotely invoked, something they can do with singular ease I have come to find in nearly 16 years of this overt invasion since 04-2002.

As to why nap attacks are scripted immediately following reading a new book I have no idea, though the planted notion is about "channeling the author", or some kind of psychic interaction with the author while reading their work. (They also like me to read biographies). Well perhaps, and all the more interesting for the perps that some authors are alive, some are long gone, and of course, combinations thereof with co-authors. The real deal is that I don't give a shit; I just want to be left alone, now, and for good. This basic and normal desire just isn't permitted with this ongoing tyranny of remotely invasive technologies and the psychopathic agenda that runs it. Call it in-situ nonconsensual human experimentation, though there have been plenty of experiences of other victims, (and putatively myself when aged 2 to 5, the memory deleted years), where they have been hauled into hospitals on flimsy rationales, and never to come out the same. The Duplessis Orphans is one example, and that occurred at the same time frame and in the same Canadian province when I lived in Montreal, Quebec during the above mentioned memory deleted years. And I am not the only one to experience this then at the same city.....

Another day of tying down vines in the vineyard, and a bitter cold it was, even if not freezing. My hands were plenty cold in the morning, and the perps laid of finger fumbling and finger freezing (imposed inaction) plenty enough to infuriate me, often near row ends in keeping with their long standing practice. I just cannot stand it when my finger control isn't my own; what the assholes get from dithering my finger control is beyond me, but any kind of frustrated action is just their cup of tea. All the better that it is sudden and unexpected. es. George Bush's attempting to open a locked door as a classic perp stunt, here on Youtube.

Another day of tiresome vine tying using wire and the Kuker tying device. My fingers are raw from this exercise and I have at least 4 acres to go. I went home at lunch time to go to the bathroom as the winery is locked as no one is there. I got the "usual" phalanx of  gangstalking vehicles around me anytime I go into town during my normal work day. (Insufficient warm clothes (getting caught out), doctor's appointments etc.) I even got the RCMP in two adjacent vehicles beside me at a stoplight, and of course, got the trains of oncoming vehicles to thwart my L turn, a perp classic. I reckon the traffic is worthy of a city 10x the size whenever I head out on these rare mid-work day sorties.

That wasn't all; the landscapers "happened" to be working around my place, and parked in my usual spot, in keeping with the parking games the perps like to stage.

Ditto the parking games first thing this morning: I roll into the winery parking lot, about 20 vehicle size, and there is a truck with two day-glos inside the cab, and the truck is blocking all the finished parking lot, and a red vehicle is parked exactly where I park my vehicle each morning this week. Like WTF; it turns out they were part of the road crew to direct traffic around the boom truck servicing the nearby power lines, yet again. This would be at least the sixth time this year at this location (Upper Bench Road), and counting. And we know who loves to place boom trucks around the victim, don't we? So this metallic deep red vehicle, a perp standard color for vehicle stalking, parked in my usual location all day. Like WTF; weren't they worried that their vehicle might get towed from private property when they had no business to be there? Not in perp organized hell it would seem, where impunity is de rigeur.

Rain today, and a cold rain, and a direct hit on those working outside needing fine motor control, such as us vineyard workers who are tying down the vines. My hands were very cold doing this work, and at break, after phoning the foreman, I went to the other vineyard to dig weeds. I warmed up doing this job, and too much as it unfolded, and sweated (or more like, was forced to sweat), so when the foreman took me off this after two hours, I got cold again. Well done; I wasn't allowed to be warm all day, even with sufficient clothing to resist it.

And what is it about weeding the perps don't like me to do for more than two hours or so? Last week, just when I thought I would be weeding for six hours, starting after the morning break, the boss man interrupts me after lunch and wants me on rock picking with the others. Lets be clear; the weeding at this vineyard is not onerous, and not nearly the effort it was last year at the prior vineyard. And it is a good way to stay warm in this cool spring.

And the strangest dreams of late; IT (my former vocation) related no less, after a forced (by this Psychopathic Fuckover) absence of nearly 16 years. One dream, I was developing requirements for additional reporting on totals and status of the work. Another, I was dealing with my former business manager boss. In fact, these specific details were 19 years ago for crissakes. Who has that (long ago) knowledge but me?

Saturday, and I chose to work at the 2012-14 employer to help him out as he is behind in getting his vineyard work done. He doesn't have any excuses, though many larger vineyards do, as the Mexican temporary visa workers have been delayed this year. None around yet, though I did see one two blocks from my place on the way home this evening. Exactly what he was doing in town, rather than being on a farm, was peculiar, though putting on the gangstalk strut comes to mind. And exactly why all the Mexican workers have been delayed is also rather odd; they have been doing this tax subsidized (yes!) program for 10 years in these here parts, and the paper work starts in November, the prior calendar year, so I have no idea as to why this slowdown has erupted. I am beginning to suspect that all visa and immigration offices are highly governed by the Psychopathic Confederacy, though to what end, besides brown skin color games, I have no idea.

I got hit with a 2 hour nap attack this evening; long enough to put a serious dent in my plans, as I had a recently acquired video to view. Said video is to replace the DVD that mysteriously locked up and won't get past this one particular frame, even if it worked fine for about 8x.

Today's vineyard work was ugly; the rain kept up until 1300h, and I was cold the rest of the day. I am doing tying down, which means no gloves to afford the fine motor skills needed to do the work. I have yet to understand why vineyards in these here parts don't make use of more automated devices. Expense perhaps, but the buds are now getting wooly, so there isn't time to lose.

And wonders of wonders; after 5 months of side effects from the radiotherapy on my prostate cancer that finished 12-2017, the bowel leaking issues did not occur today. I thought it would never end, but for today, one day's respite, and hopefully more. I did not want to do the gamma ray conformed beam radiation therapy as it has this side effect (among others), but not having $85kUSD sitting around to do proton beam therapy meant that I had to accept the public plan. Which to be fair, is quite good for cancer treatments, and the staff and equipment at Kelowna are top notch. I am still wearing an extra 10lb from the episode, but if the side effects improvement noted today continues, I will call it done.

RIP Oppo? Yes apparently (dated April 02, 2018); no more new product development. I find this absolutely astounding that they made some of the best audio gear at reasonable prices, and now they are ending all new production, only doing maintenance. There is something weird here; normally most business look to selling to someone else if they want to bail out, but not this time, just fading to black. Yes, I own an Oppo  BD 105D multi-disc player, and I bought it because I know that discs aren't going away, despite all the current streaming hype. One simply cannot find the content on streaming that exists on DVD or other discs. And besides, it looks after the audio side too, so my stereo and computer can play through the same sound system. This "feature" hasn't really dawned on most of the audio equipment world, and they are now bypassing discs and chasing the streaming features only. A dark day for audiophilia.

A day of vineyard work at the 2012-2014 employer, helping him out with his tardy vineyard work. It wasn't all the wretched tie-downs today; I helped the regular Albanian girl to get the water system up and running. That is, get the 4" water line running through the trees, near a creek, and get it secured so the water flows through. Back in 2014 when I attended to this, it took many weeks as the pipe had split and broken in places. A relative piece of cake today, but there may be surprises yet. The usual adage always goes in this state of escalated and imposed adversity; "it was too easy...".

Thankfully, none of the driving rain of yesterday, and it was even brightening up such that I felt comfortable with my headphones on and my DAP playing. This too, is a highly managed event, and the perps have a long and dedicated history of sabotaging music listening; either the player, its volume, song or artist selection or just plain killing it for no apparent reason. Though true to form, they put on a low flying A-Star helicopter fly over after about 30 minutes of listening. They like pounding aircraft noise through my headphones, often within the first hour of listening.

No such luck as a repeat on yesterday's one day of freedom from the effects of radiotherapy from prostate treatment that finished 12-2017. I knew at the time the assholes would exploit the side effects profile of this kind of treatment, and they did. Hence my attraction to proton beam therapy mentioned above. IMHO, all of this NEVER would of happened if the assholes hadn't intervened and obstructed my successful ADD treatment in 04-2002, which boosted my dopamine, which mediates one's immune system. Just to think, they had this one planned 15 years ago.

Which comes to mind; as of next weekend, it will be the 16th anniversary of their apartment invasion which kicked off this non-stop abuse-athon of hell. And as I see it, just one more week before this colossal 4 month bullshit stream of planted notions ceases. Said planted notions relate to their relentless mental intrusion indicated that they are going to cease hostilities. Every few years they put me through this, and this year they have gone on for much longer and with significantly greater intensity than ever before. To which I say; I will believe it when I see it, otherwise leave me the fuck alone.

And no indications that they are backing off either; I get non-stop masers around me, and they have even ramped it up to fake ants crawling on the walls etc, as this is the season they are out and visible. Another regular maser event is them passing a maser, a grayish blob of 4mm or so, through the toilet paper as it unrolls off the roll. The maser just sits there while successive sheets pass by. All too fascinating for sick minds, never mind the constant and abiding privacy invasion.

Another two hour nap attack after reading the Venona Files again, same as last night. The whole spy world scenario makes one's head spin as to the dedicated deception and perfidy that goes on with such relentless government direction, particularly the Soviet Union. And just to think, they owe their relative success to the weak minded fools that believed in their system, and ironically, capitalism (!). They stole atomic weapon secrets, missile proximity fuses, infra-red missile guidance targeting, neutron bomb diagram (Chinese), and so many other technologies from the West. And they started spying on foreign governments in 1920 for crissakes. And it is unlikely they have ever let up, even now.

Sunday, April 01, 2018

Smirking Chimps

The smirking boss, this time over the repeated topic of the inadequate time sheets again, with the last person doing a rather inadequate job, after she decided that the boss man's spread sheet version wasn't good enough, so she supplied her version of the same. Then she quits among all this financial juggling, as there are two time sheets, one for each of my current employers. As regular readers will know, the perps have an inordinate interest in time sheets, logging work hours, time stamping (aka, "clocking" in or out) and the rest of the trivia associated with keeping work time records.

So just what is it that is so smirk-worthy when some people speak to me, this occasion about a legit topic of time sheets, along with no pay record to confirm the hours were correct and the rest of the loose payroll practices that go with the present employers. Actually I have one employer, but they are responsible for two vineyards with differing owners.

And colder than hell yesterday, even above freezing as the ground was soft. Partially I was faked out by a warm Sunday, but today, I went home, changed my boots (seemed damp), added another sweater, put on long johns and toe warmers in my boots. And an irregular daytime trip back home brought on trains of vehicular gangstalkings en mass, not bad for a Monday at 1000h. The vineyard owner also managed to place her gangstalking ass at the gate with some half assed excuse as I was about to get to my vehicle.

Today, more tiresome tie-downs in the vineyard, getting another block finished. The one other guy has been really helpful, and all the better that he is faster than me. The boss man is still pruning, and keeps saying he will be done this week, and then he will help in tie-downs too. Then I go back to the other vineyard next week I am told.

I see the perps have lost my knife sharpener again, the second time in two years. Last year the foreman found it. I just cannot fathom why a billion dollar budget black (and insane) organization has to hound my ass over how and when I sharpen my blades; pruners at work, knives at home and any other that I have. And of course what sharpening tool: diamond hones (two grades), carbide scrapers, dremel with diamond bit and the odd time, a file or a grinder. And nearly 16 years of this fucking abuse, that being only one obsessional facet over hundreds that are known to me.

And what is it about this new round of fuckery over which music playing device I listen to at the vineyard? The wretched phone app finally updated itself after I "forgot" to turn internet access off, and it ended up being used after I "forgot" to take my dedicated digital audio player (DAP) to work. Or another day, I "forgot" to charge it up. Yesterday was hopeless for music listening as the DAP kept screwing up, solely a touch screen device, something the perps have free reign to screw with by remote means. And it was so cold that I gave up anyhow.

Today, another forced "forget" on the DAP, so I used my smart phone. Alternating between these two devices is not my style. I got the DAP because I was so fed up with the smart phone app, and now I find I am using the latter. (Same headphones, though the DAP is better sounding). Then, too, interruptions in using the player and headphones with co-workers getting chatty all of a sudden, so I wear them at my neck instead, something the perps seem to just love, those magnets in the headphones.

Yesterday, at work on the vineyard tie-downs, was a major infuriation day; constant forced finger fumbling, and then having my hands open unbidden by me to either have the cane flip up or else drop the tie-down tool from my grasp. And of course they liked to crank it up anytime I was near an end of a row, or when my co-worker was nearby. No wonder they like to have me use inefficient devices and methods, rather than the slick, but expensive, tie-down devices out there.

Tying down vines, then weeding. Same as yesterday... but was caught out, dressed for slow moving unenergetic work of tying, and then suddenly, the boss man wanted weeding done. I had long johns on and two sweaters, but even after taking off my coat and a sweater, I was still sweating. The perps like this; mugging the victim with sudden new work tasks for which he is ill-clothed, and all the better that he gets overheated or chilled, per above. Today, no long johns, and I was OK doing weeding after lunch.

Saw Ellen Doty tonight (video 1, video 2); and what a bogus set up at the door when I arrived. The manager asked if I was a party of one or two. I said one, which I was, and she thought it was a computer screw up, and I said possibly. I was seated for all of a minute and then she comes by to tell me that there was another person by the same name who booked a party of two, and then introduced me to this person, with whom I shook hands. He "happened" to be the person following me into the the club, so I find it absolutely ridiculous to think this was anything but orchestrated.

It was a good show, and she hung around in the audience during the set break and then afterward, though I did not speak to her. I bought a CD from her sister who was managing the merchandise. For some reason, the party of four in front of me departed at the intermission and missed the second set. I cannot fathom why anyone would do this, but it is consistent with the perps clearing out adjacent seating at concert venues, either beforehand (for the entire show), or else in mid-show. I got a few looks directly from the performer during the show, but nothing that I would call staring or strangely directed as I have experienced from other live performers in the past.

The surly, but attractive, waitress of the three past visits was there again, this time covering up her ample chest tattoos with a sweater and jewellery. She even came to my table, but only to get out of the way of the regular waitress. I didn't even rate a glance from her, even if she had served me twice in the prior six months.

Good Friday, a national holiday for everyone except farm workers; they don't get paid for statutory holidays. Though some past employers have paid me all the same; it seems to be a big perp deal, almost like a test scenario for them. That is, don't pay me, or else have the employer decide to pay me in mid-season, or in the second year of employment for statutory holidays. Maybe they are looking for some kind of "psychic spark" or some such as to if/when I get paid like anyone else for a statutory holiday, and of course, unknowingly, and more often, knowingly.

Saturday, and I went to my previous employer of 2012-14 to help him out, as he is bottling sparkling wine. It was the slow version, by hand; no automated lines at 1200 bottles/hour. More like 800 bottles per day.

I see my previous employer has a new employee from Alberta who knows squat about vineyard work and wine making. So why did he lay me off when I knew both in reasonable detail, especially after working for him for three years? Another mystery on the employment fuckery front, a long running issue for the perps it seems; not only as to how large of an organization, but all the minutiae as to whom I work with, their relative competence, clothing color etc.

Sunday, and bottling again today, more of the sparkling wine all day long. Like yesterday, a load of large timbers had to be moved from the owner's trailer onto pallets on the ground. This was a 30 minute job for three males, as we were dealing with 6x6" timbers 14' long or larger. Funny how the perps like me to get extended wood contact at times. Not forgetting that I had a wood desk on which I would rest my hands all the while I keyboarded from 2001 to 2012. Now I have an aluminum slatted fold-up table on which my hands rest, recently  augmented with a ground connected conducting mat. More of those direct connections with earth energies it would seem.

The continuing BS stream as to the perp's ceasing hostilities is planted in mind continues, maybe 150x/day. Like WTF; here they have been covertly following and orchestrating my existence for 47 years before they went berserk/overt in 04-2002, so what is in it for them to suddenly stop on the 16th anniversary, April 15, like they claim via planted notions? Absolutely nothing, whatever their esoteric nonconsensual human research agenda is. Besides, I have been through a few of these build ups to their "big nothing" events over the years, so why would I give a shit anyhow? I don't, and I have been correct on every call.

Enough on the harassment and abuse front for the last week, and onto posting this one.

Sunday, March 25, 2018

Tiresome Tie-downs

Somehow I cut my finger with the pruner blade (another forced fumble) just after they had been sharpened, and then they pulled a phlegm emitting cough, then pulled another bowel sensation, related to the post radio-therapy side effect issue now four months long. I find it fascinating they can script all these bodily sensations/events within a minute. This has happened in the past, again, phlegm related as it seems it can arrive in one's through without benefit of cold or any lung congestion sensation.

I then got a band-aid from my vehicle to then slow me up and the other guy caught up and then passed me when his row was shorter, so he went to the adjacent row, instead of us alternating rows. All these games over who starts what row, and the relative timing with respect to co-workers has been going on for over a decade of farm work now.

As for vineyard work and tying down; every year it is the same; this activity requiring lots of fine motor coordination gets dithered and fumbled to piss me off. In 2015 and 2016, the boss lady was a productivity maven and was on my ass both years as I wasn't fast enough. In fact it is the perp assholes who are misdirecting the tool, pulling my hand off the cane (and having it hit me in the face), moving the cane so it isn't held down, breaking the tie down wire etc., so of course it takes longer. I average about 4-6 mis-directed events per vine; sometimes the delay is minimal, sometimes longer, but it adds up when one is doing this all day long. No wonder no one gets a tying machine that would be faster, then there would be considerably less opportunity to harass the victim.

The vine on the right is pruned, but not tied down to the trellis wire, but the others are, except those of the yellowish color in the background which have not yet been pruned.

Tying down, not nearly beset with forced finger fumbling as yesterday. But instead, an increase of an extant problem; the bowel damage from last fall's radiotherapy is still a problem, and was made worse today. Am I ever fed up with pissing and poo-ing problems, something the perps have hammered me with since they first went berserk/overt in 04-2002, nearly 16 years ago. And of course, they exploit the side effects of the radiotherapy treatment, just as I predicted. Its just that it was four months ago and should be getting better. Had I a spare $85k USD sitting around, I would of got proton beam therapy and avoided this latest exacerbation of the ongoing shit show.

Can we have enough pit-lamping the victim when in his vehicle having lunch? Apparently not, as the assholes laid on two pickup trucks who offloaded insulation from a delivery truck that ferried the smaller loads to the house being built, 200m away on a muddy road. As if that wasn't obvious, one pickup was white, the other red, all in keeping with popular gangstalking vehicle color combinations. (And emulated by backup lights and brake lights on together). And to make it more obvious, one pick up truck had some items in it, and the driver placed them 6" from my parked vehicle while I was inside having lunch. One item being a ladder, an exceeding popular gangstalking accessory.

A rainy day today, on and off, and then it got serious at 1630h, just when we were about to finish up at 1700h. The boss man joined us, and we then finished tying down this block of vines. I did not have rain gear on, though a ski coat which is breaking up (somehow) held up for the most part. The driving rain of the last half hour ran through my pants, long johns, and into my boots. Well done; any earlier and I would of got my serious rain gear.

Some strange emanations are coming off this LCD display tonight, and last night. Back in 2005-2006 this was especially noticeable when I returned from a hike, usually 5 hours. They would just hammer my eyes with some kind of emanations off the LCD display to the point that I could not read it at times. Though this time, in keeping with the latest BS stream of ceasing hostilities "soon" (they say), they are winding me down, as in diminishing my level of being charged. I don't know of course, and couldn't give a shit, with the usual rejoinder of; leave me the fuck alone and everything will be just fine. Though with a lifetime of covert harassment, these assholes don't have a concept of that in the least. They keep using the word "soon" in all of this, and I keep telling them that "soon" means tomorrow to me, so quit using this ridiculous generality. After nearly 16 years of this intense abuse, aka, abuse-athon, another day of it is too much. So if they are telling me they are dialing down the irradiation (of whatever kind it is), it probably means they are really increasing it again, just like in the days of 2005-6 for increased rounds of whatever nonconsensual research they are doing. The increase in pit-lamping since early 2018 seems to support this. But as always, this is one big poker game, and the deception plan is as important as the real plan, even if I don't know the difference.

And onto the long game prediction; I see that the black colored ski jacket I purchased for winter time vineyard work is breaking up; that is, the seams are somehow wearing out and the whole thing is going to literally fall apart at the seams. So... after extensive looking at my usual sources and coming up with nothing, I go to a reputable manufacturer and find a suitable ski jacket on sale. And in three colors, and lo, if the all black version, my preferred color as the work scuzz won't show, isn't available in my size, but blue and black combination is. And lo, if it isn't the same blue as the solid color ski jacket I have for street wear. (Which was purchased for vineyard work, but I liked the color and realized that it would get scuzzed up). So it would seem they are preparing me for next year's vineyard work in the winter time by wearing a jacket that is the color combination of two of my former solid color ski jackets. All in keeping with their infernal and relentless games over which color of clothing I wear.

 This jet black ski jacket has the sleeves folded together to show the wear, (imposed wear IMHO) on the sleeve seams and cuffs. The fabric is worn through where it is light colored, yet nowhere else on the garment. Can we have enough ski jacket fuckery?

Can we not have enough interruption games in the morning. I am one minute into vineyard work when the boss man comes to chat about nothing much. I just get going again, with the headphones on, and my co-worker comes to work on the tying down, to then interrupt me again. So I wore my headphones at my neck, and chatted while we worked near each other as we were starting a new block. All in keeping with the perps' long running habit of interrupting me when I start a new clone or varietal block at every vineyard I have worked in the past 6 years. After a half hour of working and chatting with my co-worker, the assholes then grind me to need to take a shit, so off to the crapper I go. This is highly uncharacteristic for me to need to go then, especially of late with the 3x/evening games that have gone on since 01-2018. Two more pit lampings from traffic passing by on their way to the house construction, then I go to my vehicle after my crap to get Immodium, and lo, if there isn't the vineyard owner there putzing with the garbage cans she somehow "forgot" to attend to when she has been absolutely on top of it every time before, as the garbage cans are out when I get there every Friday morning. Then she decides to putz with the adjacent landscape plant and prunes the part that is passing through the fence. Does this intense victim coverage ever fucking end?

Sunday, and I did 6 hours of work on tie-downs in the vineyard. Only because it was nice weather, unlike two days ago when the snow was flying, and the day before that, when the rain came down sideways. A relatively calm day from the gangstalking coverage, though someone next door saw fit to pit lamp me as I was leaving and was momentarily held up when finding a vine that wasn't tied down, and then attending to it for all of a minute or less. The perps' timing is impeccably precise, every time. And if they go off time, say I speed up, they will dither my fingers to then slow me down again.

A calm day in the vineyard, but the vehicular gangstalking was on in streams of black vehicles, then white ones, then black ones. They were all over my ass two nights ago when I set off to the grocery store, so it seems that vehicular gangstalking is playing big. (And exposures to headlights are inevitable).

Last night when in bed they were keeping me awake and agitated (turning over and over) and I told them out loud to let me get to sleep and leave me the fuck alone. It was most astonishing, because within two minutes they let me fall into sleep. I cannot count the number of times they have kept me up for hours, and I tell them, and scream at them, that I want to get to sleep, all to no avail. And sometimes they have me stay awake all night for whatever reason. (And I routinely don't suffer a sleep deficit either). This would be the first time EVER that they have respected my request to let me sleep.

Back in the high disruption days of 06-2003, it was very noticeable that I was being kept awake and it occurred after swimming at the pool with the swim club. I was staying at my perp abetting parents then, (somehow couldn't find a place) and after an hour of thrashing around in bed, my father would go downstairs to the half basement and putz there for a minute, and come up the stairs with someone else, either following or beside him. The configuration of the stairwell was that it passed by my bedroom (other side of the wall), turned on the main floor, and then passed underneath my bedroom. Within five minutes of these peculiar excursions, with outside "help" (gangstalking by an external operative/shill- maybe someone I would of known), I would routinely fall asleep for the night. There were at least ten of these events and they were exactly consistent. It was only in 09-2003 when the new swim club season started, and after they took my fees for the year, that it was apparent that the swim club members were gangstalking too, that is, closing in on me uncharacteristically. So I gave up that. My discussions with the treasurer of the swim club were such that I indicated that I was getting gangstalked (like I had been in Seattle), and he said "hang in there, its worth it". Not that he returned my fees of course, all in keeping with the financial screw-over component of this senseless and relentless abuse-athon.

As mentioned in prior blog postings of late, and above, I am consistently getting the "vibe" (aka, planted notions, even momentary and passing ones) that all the perp hostilities are going to cease, "soon". (Perhaps 150x/day, rather high.) Again, it is a notion that I routinely reject as I have been through many of these imposed scenarios, and all have come to naught.

Given the mouse sabotage of late on this PC, even after I cleaned it out of gobs of debris, it is time to call this posting done for the week.

Sunday, March 18, 2018


A major messed up day today, starting with the excise wound that opened up in the night after I took the stitches out last night. This was to remove a 5mm lesion of basal cell carcinoma. It held fine, but this morning it was gaping, and at 0645h I decided to go to the hospital to get it re-stitched. This was partly because I didn't want a protracted gangstalk/gong show during regular day time hours at the hospital, and the fact that I was supposed to be starting bottling at 0800h, though I had my doubts about making a one hour turnaround at the hospital.

One drug-addicted looking Fuckwit woman, la common perp guise I have come to know, decided to stare at me while sitting in the Emergency waiting area, so I asked her what she was staring at and then she picked up her backpack and took off. Like WTF; if one is there in Emergency, one is there for a legitimate reason, but no, not for a shill or perp stalking asshole. Lets make it obvious. And I do believe I have seen her before somewhere, perhaps in my 2003-2011 days in Victoria, BC, the Gangstalking Capital of Canada.

I told my story to the triage nurse, then the medical student, and then the real doctor came in, and said, "I heard your story". Good; and then he told me about the pathology report from last week's surgery, and there were still cancer cells at the margins. (And if there is remaining cancer, it will not heal.) Decoded, they took some samples from the edge of the excise wound last week and later found they were still cancerous. I did not know this had been done, and so the option was to wait for the excising surgeon to get to his office and discuss what to do. I said, how about stitching it up and I will contact him and he will then reschedule surgery, as it took four weeks to get it booked in the first place. The real doctor said that was OK, and assigned the medical student the job of stitching me up. Like WTF; why is it me that has the sensible plan, and the doctor says to wait for another doctor who likely will not be available anyhow, and it will take weeks to re-book anyhow? So the medical student got to re-stitch last week's excise wound, and I got to tell him about the real properties of dopamine as a hormone, not just a neurotransmitter.

If I was a betting man, I would say this whole fucking deal (second hospital visit in two weeks over this excise surgery) was all about that; I get to sound off about my favorite clinical topic, dopamine as a hormone, this time to a 4th year medical student. I even talked about my book reading about the non-motor symptoms of Parkinson's Disease, (=neural dopamine deficiency) and didn't get any response. Not that he had a lot to say, and nor did he sound terribly interested, in keeping with all other doctors (9 or so) I have mentioned this to in the course of visiting them. (One weird doctor just stared at me, like he was totally out of it. Another occasion was when The Good Doctor phoned me one time when there was nothing pending, and as the conversation unfolded, I told her about my dopamine write up, and she asked for a copy, which I provided. She never mentioned it when I saw her next). So what is it about dopamine that the perps have me as a one man proselytizer when there is absolutely no hope of making any impact on these clinicians, and them making it all the more obvious by their singularly uniform non-response? Go figure.

If that weren't enough of a strange start to one's day, I went to work to start bottling, but the bottling line wasn't working as the label machine had a sensor that wasn't working properly for the labeling application. I got there at 0915h, and the crew was standing around having coffee. It was decided that we vineyard types would pull canes from the adjacent vineyard where I had been pruning for the prior three weeks and pull the cut canes out. And it "happened" to be raining, and so I got geared up in my rain gear, and lent my extra rain coat to the new guy who "happened" to have his rain coat stolen a few days ago. So three of us pulled canes in the rain for an hour, getting muddy boots in the process.

Then they decided to bottle wine, but the labeling machine still wasn't working, so a full day of bottling of three differing batches, and none were labeled. Which means they are to be hand labeled (somehow), some 4,000 bottles. A 10 hour work day, and it seems the perps just love to have me work late in this first week of daylight savings time.

So what is it about bottling wine, and the Fuckwits wanting blood? Two years ago on a bottling job the assholes cut me with the tape gun cutter and I had to suffer through a cut on my finger while the cases of wine kept coming on at a terrific rate. Not enough time to get a bandaid for crissakes; then they cancelled the break and had that run go for three hours straight. I won't ever forget that one. Added to this shit show over bottling and blood letting, the assholes gave me a cold sore, another source of intermittent blood that will persist for at least a week longer.

Back to vineyard work today, with the constant noise of house building going on. The usual; saws, drills, hammering, percussive devices etc. Adding to that, they had to tow the glass truck twice through the muddy road in the vineyard. Even the towing pick up truck almost got stuck in four wheel drive. And do the perps ever love to pass gangstalking glass bearing trucks near me, often without the glass even, just the empty rack on the side.

And they screwed me out of taking my audio player as well, now two days of interrupting me listening to LR, one of my favorite singers where I had left off. (I am counting yesterday's bottling work as an interruption). All in keeping with the start up of listening to music with headphones on in the vineyard for 2018. Two days ago, when turning on the portable audio player, they screwed with the normally reliable volume dial so I couldn't get volume, and when I finally did, they messed it up again when I put it in my pocket. Then the display screens didn't work properly, and if there is ever a device for remotely manipulating to render the user utterly infuriated at its dysfunction, it is a touch screen device. They had that one down long before I got it, or any like phone.

I saw the excision doctor this morning for all of 3 minutes; he said the cancer at the edges of his excision from the pathology report was "low grade" and to not worry and the excision wound will heal up. He said that I was young (I'm 63) and doing everything right, at which point I laughed. (Read, curious E. Indian logic here). He asked what I was laughing about and I said if I don't know what I am doing right how do I know I am doing it. For which he had no answer. I am to see him in 6 months. So for now, no more excitement, and to wait 10 days to remove the stitches this time instead of 7. I asked him if it opens up again after I have the stitches removed and he said it won't, so I pressed him, and finally got an answer; go back to emergency. I can just see how that one will go over if I arrive there and present with the same problem.

And who are these Fuckwits in the vineyard who either stand around, or else ride their bicycles through? One, with a harness on, presumably for roofing on the adjacent house construction, was standing 20' from my vehicle when I pulled in looking at his phone for crissakes. I get my gear and walk past him and start vineyard work, and then he follows for crissakes. Then a 2x bicycle rider, presumably from the adjacent house construction crew, zips through the vineyard during working hours. Again, what for? He wasn't accessing a parked vehicle, nor was the aforementioned just-stand-there stalker. This whole gangstalking shit show has escalated since 2018 began, and if I was fed up with it then, I am fucking fed up now. Just leave me the fuck alone.

Sunday, and I decided to work on tying down vines as we are getting behind and the boss man insists on doing all the pruning. Fortunately there is an extra guy with prior vineyard experience, and is available until the end of April, so perhaps we can get all pruning and tying down done by mid April.

More games with my portable audio player today. I put on "Play All" for a certain artist for whom I have some 8 albums, all of her output to date, and the player then recycles through the first three albums at least 3x before I intervened. I then put on the double live album by itself to fix this weirdness, and lo, if it isn't full of songs from those same three prior albums. The player should of played all 8 albums through and somehow "failed" to do so and "somehow" went into repeat mode on the first three only. As all albums from a certain artist are under the same directory, there is no normal way this audio player should have "decided" on its own to play only the first three repeatedly when it wasn't on on continuous play in the first place. It is just amazing that this portable audio player, which has sat unused since 09-2017, though charged, has suddenly erupted in new problems since I started using it again this week, per above.

Just on the heels of some peculiar pay changes at the vineyard, I see the Irish minx who looks after the book keeping has now moved onto another job. I though she was kind of cute and interesting, but I suppose the perps wanted to shut down that one, and moved her on.

Anyhow, I am getting some intense typo fuckery harassment, where backspacing and re-keying counts for half my key strokes, so it is time to call this one done for the week.

Monday, March 12, 2018

Excise Surgery

Wednesday, and I am still on vineyard pruning, though it is coming to a close. Perhaps one more day after this before the 4.5 acres is done. I get intermittent visits from the "Snow Bear" (all white), the Pyrenees Mountain dog for a trip down memory lane when I last had my Newfoundland (all black) in 1978. That my dog got cancer when it was 7 years old always seemed to be odd, but since the perps went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002, I have since become suspicious that they didn't remotely invoke this.

Interestingly, last year's vineyard had an all-white Akbash puppy that was tethered most of the time. It was a large dog too, and the odd time when I was in tether range tending to vines, the damn thing kept piling on top of me, despite my best efforts to show who was boss. It was that behavioral trait that ultimately earned its exodus to a farm of a family relation in Alberta. It became too intolerable in its own house even.

Back in around 2009 or so, when my father was still mobile and at home, though with Alzheimer's, he, me and my mother were walking at this outdoor accessible shopping area after a tea at a nearby business, and this pickup truck pulled up beside us on an access road where there was no allowed parking and stopped for no seeming reason. (No traffic holding it up, and why on a commercial lane?) The passenger window was open and there was a large Pyrenees dog in the passenger seat looking out at us. A beautiful and impressive dog it was, and it always struck me as odd that the perps needed to obviously arrange this for all of us to see together. As a family we were all familiar with Newfoundland dogs (three, serially), a black coated lookalike to the white Pyrenees breed. In fact, they may share a common lineage, as they may have crossed the Pyrenees breed with the local Newfoundland breed at the time, via introduction by the Portuguese fishermen of the time. I just find it most curious that the perps need to arrange dog coat colors, and breeds even to the point that one may look like another, and yet be an opposite coat color. And in case of this orchestrated vignette, all for less than 10 seconds of direct observation time.

Onto excising etc. Defined as follows;
verb (used with object), excised, excising.
1. to expunge, as a passage or sentence, from a text.
2 to cut out or off, as a tumor.
1. an internal tax or duty on certain commodities, as liquor or tobacco, levied on their manufacture, sale, or consumption within the country.

I took an hour out of my day to deal with my minor skin surgery that was scheduled a month ago. They even put on a single lane traffic at a 90 degree bend, replete with boom truck for my trip from work to the hospital. Any departure from work at an irregular time begets plenty of gangstalking action. It was a small lesion that was persistent on my forehead, under my hair hang for at least 10 years. The medical term is "excise", meaning to remove, a term I never use in this context, because I always associate it with the collection of government taxes on wine, spirits etc. I only recently became aware of the medical definition.

I got back to work afterward, and was having my lunch in the winery when the boss man came by, and I told him it was all done, and he said it was "excised"; true enough. As we were chatting, he tells me that the excise inspectors, the ones that collect revenue from wineries etc., "happened" to be in and he had just finished his excise audit, and all was OK. Such a fine coincidence, pivoting around two definitions of this one word in one morning.

All day yesterday I was hammered with planted notions that the perps are going to cease hostilities on me, just when I thought this mind fuck malarkey was over with.  As mentioned in past blog postings, this mind fuck game has gone one for at least one campaign every two years, (two week duration or longer) which makes at least eight, and many, many lesser duration times too. The notion that the perps would cease hostilities just doesn't add up; they are still busy on brownstalking, gangstalking my ass constantly (even more now), pit-lamping more too, and have been on me since birth, and even putting me through the MKULTRA abuses in Montreal (in all likelihood, hasn't been proven). It begs the question as to why they needed to wipe out 99% of my recall when aged 2 to 5.

And as part of today' mind-fuckery, they also added in plenty of their faux romantic notions with ML, another constant theme in all of this, though I have seen her in person at least twice. It is rare that this goes on all day, but it did. Apparently we are to meet "soon", a word that gets planted ad nauseum. In this escalated abuse situation, "soon" means tomorrow, and it hasn't happened. And I don't expect to meet anyone in a romantic situation, as who would be so crazy as to hang with a TI, save another TI or else an assigned perp? As if I haven't been through the wringer on this one in the past, as the perps have a knack of picking romantic losers for me; the ex became a nasty assed jerk (a sudden behavior change for the worse in 1990), and then Ms. C of my Seattle working days (1999-2002) was not only obviously involved in the abuse (before and after overt onset), but was a confrontational drama queen, with a minor habit of pulling frosty spells for no seeming reason. (I need to re-listen to Tom Waits' "Emotional Weather Report" on this one.) Within the first week of meeting Ms. C in 2000, it was obvious that she was prone to deceptive renditions of the facts, and I was thinking to myself then, how is it that I meet women who are fast and loose with the facts, and bullshit me so often? Mystery solved; they were planted, and seem to meet the perps need for seeding me with disinformation or just plain lies. Part of their information research imperative it would seem.

And does the pit lamping and gangstalking never end, never mind the fuckery of running me out of specific staple grocery items? The Fairview (Road) Train, as I call it, a 95% regular train of vehicles to hold me up at the corner of my regular beat before I turn onto that street at any time of the day or night. And why is it on a Wednesday night at 2000h, that these vehicles are arranged with such relentless consistency?

Then the gangstalking surge on my ass at the entrance to SOF supermarket. Still, they continue to run me out of large size coconut chunks, the display now 3 weeks empty save the small size, and kept the stalkers swarming me when I entered (at least four waves of the fuckers). I got skunked on getting cooked chicken, somehow it was cut off early tonight, so I ended up with pieces in a brown box instead of the black plastic container with the transparent plastic lid. Here we go again, heavy brown color research still; as if hot chocolate every day now with added cinnamon (a different color of brown) wasn't enough.

When I get back to my residence and am sitting in my vehicle filling out my time sheet, a gangstalker guy on my ass again, this time with his leashed dog underfoot as I was about to step out. He was headed away from me when I first arrived in the lane, and for some reason reversed his path and ended up beside me as I was about to step out of my brown interiored vehicle. He also wearing brown, though of a more different cinnamon tone, particular to a work clothing of a certain manufacturer. And to not put too fine of a point on it, I was doing this exact thing last week, parked only 20m away in my landlord's parking location when the woman from across the street delivered some misdirected mail to me on their behalf. I have been frequently gangstalked by my co-workers when putting my time card through the machine at larger work sites in the past. So what is it about filling out, or having my time card punched, that is so consistently interesting to the perps? I don't care, and I don't give a shit, just leave me the fuck alone, in any situation, everytime.

An inch of fluffy snow in the vineyard this morning that became slush in a few hours, and then dropped to the ground in another hour. At first the vines had to be knocked free from snow to enable me to prune them. Before long I had to dislodge the slush, but thankfully that glove wetting episode ended after an hour, and I got my gloves dried at lunch. I finished the 4.5 acres late today; after nearly three work weeks of grinding it out with hand tools, 3.5 rows per day, I am finally done.

Even getting pit-lamped in the vineyard now; vehicles from 200+m away, not to mention the adjacent property owner and his driving around. All I had to do was look up, and from 100m away, his headlights were pointed directly at me.

I got nailed for a two hour nap attack after work today. I might have had a half hour of sleep deficit at most, something that would go unnoticed in the main, but that morphed into a two hour take-down as I see it. It took me half an hour to pull myself together to get up. Then, even with clothes on, I was cold, and ended up changing into something warmer. Talk about punching a hole in one's evening.

And I see the job that I applied for last year, but became too mysteriously sick to consider continuing with the interview process, is now advertised again. I heard through the grapevine last year that it wasn't filled, so here it goes again. Hopefully it won't turn out to be a ridiculous puff ball interview like the last job interview (similar job) which amounted to nothing, as expected. It could be my first regular full time job since 2002 when the assholes ran me out of my job in Seattle, but one should never get too optimistic, especially when "dashed expectations" happen at 10x normal frequency, ever since 04-2002 when the perps first went berserk/overt. Keeping TI's broke is a big part of the game, and not to put too fine of a point on it, what will it be like to have an obvious set of gangstalking coworkers in an office? Been there, done that, (all those odious and pained looks) and one has to wonder why they would put me through that bullshit again.

Saturday, and a day of errands and the like. I really wanted to get my vehicle cleaned up and wear my muddy snow boots and clean them at the same time. The plan was to go early and beat the rush at this one auto cleaning business that has about 6 self serve bays, plus four vacuum cleaners, and for those so inclined, one drive through bay. Not only that, but they have change machines that always work (save one time), and failing that, one can use a credit card. Plus they are open in sub zero weather. Early turned out to be 1000h, not too early, but not late, but I got skunked big time. With three vehicles waiting at each bay, I decided to screw it, and get on with other things. I went back there an hour later and it was still the same. My read was that this was an orchestrated skunk; that is, choking the place up to thwart my intentions (aka "dashed expectations"), and to have me keep the big snow boots in the vehicle for the rest of the day. I cannot count the times that great expectations get dashed; no sense in making plans in this state of being a TI. They were gangstalking me up the asshole when I went elsewhere after this shit show, in keeping with what they usually do after pulling an big stunt.

Anyhow, on with the laundry and shopping etc. And with sunny skies, even if 4C, I put the laundry out to dry, though with the low sun angle and low temperature, only the breeze helped. I hand washed the ski pants that kept me warm for the last two weeks, getting them muddy on the last day. Funny how that "happens"; the last day of wearing them begets a situation (muddy conditions) that forces them to be cleaned before they get put away for the season (I hope). Cleaned for the first time as it "happens", as they had been sitting around for five years and I had "forgot" I had them all this time. I had other winter time work clothes, but this year, owing to new-found sensitivity to cold temperatures, I needed something extra. I am thinking of getting ski goggles and a face mask as well so I can be better prepared for winter temperatures next year. Past winter outside work hasn't been so bad as this one, even if the low temperatures have been about the same. I see that my morning body temperature is 36.2C, which doesn't seem good to me, and I get to 36.4C in the evening.

Wearing the ski pants for the first time suggests that the perps had this planned out five years ago as I don't ski, and I pondered then as to why I needed them in the first place. (The planted notion was that I was going to start skiing as there is a local ski hill here). This is another imposed "normal"; advanced planning so I have items (food, clothing typically) sitting around for extended durations before I need them. No question the perps have a big deal over the color, cut and fabric of my clothes, but I don't see why they are so consistently nuts over this as they are. I don't purchase custom clothes, so there must be thousands of others wearing the same manufactured clothes items, so why don't the perps study them instead of hounding the shit out of me? The perps tell me that I am the "test case" and they do study others (in the same clothes) in great detail, but for some reason need to study me more. Go fuck yourselves, I have been a study (read, abuse) victim for long enough. It will be 16 years of this berserk/overt abuse and harassment in mid-April, a little over a month from now. Not to mention a prior 47 years of being covertly monitored, with some abuse moments in the mix too.

Sunday, and the first day of daylight savings time, always a big perp event for whatever reason. Though this time, I went to work with two colleagues on cane collection in two locations and once done, for a project completion beer in town. It was warm, sunny and calm, and a perfect day to be outside in the vineyard. The bar was a little crowded, and new to me, they allowed children in there too. Which of course meant that two of them buzzed around me for a short time, all in keeping with the child-stalkers that have preceded them over the last 15 years of this shit show.

Anyhow, time to get this posted for the week.

Monday, March 05, 2018

Ordering Follies

More games with screwing around with online orders, or for that matter, ordering of any kind. The latest is this one, where I order only two items: ski goggles (that came with an extra lens and an integral balaclava, secured by magnets, note) and a liner glove, one that fits inside another glove. All in aid of the fact that it was so perishing cold working in the vineyard last week, along with the wind. So I ordered what would be the right gear, especially the goggle set that came with the integral balaclava so no wind could sneak in between the goggle and the face mask. Too effective I reckon, as this is what I got back in two messages from the outfit that specializes in ski wear:
C Sports Order #xxxx - Item Unavailable
2018 Feb 26th

C Sports said:

  Dear J, Thank you for choosing C Sports.Unfortunately, the 'Burton Touch n Go Liner Glove in Grey' is unavailable. Due to an inventory error this item was displaying online when it should not have been. Please let us know if you would like to select different items of similar value or if you would prefer to have the order canceled. We do have the Touch n Go Liner available in both Black and Camo size M. Our apologies for the inconvenience. Best regards,

I said:
    Black would be an acceptable substitute.

Later in the day (after I had gone to bed)....
C Sports said:
  Hi J, Unfortunately the 'Anon Relapse MFI Goggle' is also unavailable. We apologize sincerely for neglecting to mention this in our initial message. Please let us know if you still wish to proceed with the black Touch n Go glove with complimentary shipping.

I said (next day):
    Cancel the order.
In this day and age, with online ordering, these clowns make out that their system is screwed up. Only two items in the order, and both were available online, and poof, in two separate messages, both aren't available. Like who got to you? I cannot count the number of times that orders get screwed up, though to be fair, Amazon never lets me down.

And if I really want some more futility, I will attempt to order this from elsewhere, maybe Amazon, though the Canadian version is a muted one, with extra shipping charges to cross the border. Since I wrote that, I see that the particular goggles "disappeared" from C Sports, and is unavailable from and a major Vancouver sports retailer, who did have that particular goggle for sure, now doesn't. How convenient.

In the vineyard, it wasn't so cold today, though a balaclava was needed for the moist air coming from the melting snow and the wind that picked it up. The Pyrenees Mountain dog puppy came to visit on its own, not on a leash with its owner. I haven't had a big dog romp for four decades, and the intervening standard poodle didn't count much for that.

A split day; vineyard work in the morning, then head to the doctor in Kelowna, then back at the vineyard again. The good news from the oncologist was that the PSA score is substantially lower since radiotherapy, and that is good. From a 9.9 to now a 2.something. He expects it to get to 0.2 or so in two years, which begs the question as to why "normal" maximum is 4.5. I didn't get into that, though I suspect the politics of normal medical test ranges must be intense. I gave him my plug on radiotherapy depleting dopamine, hence my 10lb weight gain, feeling tired and memory messed for a month afterward and my present increased need for chocolate. And I gave him my reasons behind it too. I said that it will be at least 20 years that dopamine and prostate health ever get any clinical recognition, and he said he would remember that, but would likely not recall my name by then. I said I was fine with that. Other side effects were discussed, e.g. bowel issues, and he came up with an Rx. He liked my eye glasses enough and asked to look at them as they were of the kind he was looking at to change his pair. My next appointment is 9 months hence, and that is also a vote of the radiotherapy results going the right direction at the right pace. Oddly, he sat much closer this time, halfway into the room, unlike my sessions with him during radiotherapy when he was as the opposite end of the room. I give up on all this bullshit sometimes, as to why everything is so orchestrated down sub-second and sub-millimeter precision.

A 50 minute drive there each way, and the usual cavalcade to accompany on my journey's start in each direction. Nothing too spectacularly inane, and no traffic hold ups or lane closures and the like. I also stopped in at the anti-aging clinic to get my test kit. The Good Doctor "happened" to be about, and the front desk girl consulted her at one point. The Good Doctor didn't seem too engaging, so who knows what that is about. More feigned (or managed) coolness I suppose, and I have got plenty of that from most everyone for no reason, especially if they were friendly in prior interactions. They made sure I saw that her ring finger had no ring on it, as she is married with children when I saw her last year.

Again, having a ring on, or off, is often another stunt the perps like me to be aware of. Not that I am looking, or considering any romantic interest with anyone, but it just "happens" all the time, usually with the woman waving or moving her L hand about in my purview. Back in the high harassment days of 2002, Ms. C, my thought-to-be girlfriend, (though I had my deep suspicions as to her true motives from the outset), put on a ring on her ring finger and invited me over one night. Before things got any bit serious I asked her if she was engaged and had someone else on the go. Not that I would of been too upset, as I could of done with an excuse to get her out of my hair. She gave me some blow-off excuse as to why she was wearing a ring to signify she was married/engaged when she wasn't. Anyhow, this whole ring/ring finger/married theme has been a long running perp set up game for whatever reason. And as I have no romantic interest, and primarily operate from the perspective that I just want to be left alone, I don't know why the perps keep this theme going. (Maybe it is what most guys do, and I never had the habit until it was imposed on me now). Who knows, maybe the perps have their female shills take off their ring for a short gangstalking vignette, and then they put it back on again. I just don't give a shit on this one.

After work it was off on another diversion event, picking up a parcel, one for me this time. True to form, they stacked the line up at the PO again, this time with someone ahead of me who had 12 (brown colored) mailing tubes and started grousing about how much the postage was. Then incredibly, he had no return address on them, citing a possible confusion on the mailing tubes for crissakes. Thankfully the postal clerk directed him to a side desk to fill them out while the next customer was taken care of. But this is so consistent at checkouts; having a customer ahead go back for more items, or move around behind me or some such.

Outside the PO, the usual pit lamping intensity in the parking lot again, also filling in with a flux of Fuckwits. I wasn't done yet when I got back to my place, still in my vehicle, as the lady across the street had some misdirected mail for me, as I was looking after the landlord's mail while they are away. Then she goes on about a missing parcel of hers, for which she got a delivery notice for, and then tells me it was worth $xxx, which "happened" to be the exact same amount I paid for the above mentioned medical test kit that was sitting in the back seat of my vehicle. I felt obliged to show her my parcel in the rear tailgate section, and that it was for me, and not hers that was misdirected. All this bullshit over another parcel pick up, no doubt the perps getting their brown cardboard fix again.        

Two more days of vineyard pruning again, again the Pyrenees dog came for a visit without an owner. A frisky 6 month puppy, easily 20" high at the shoulder. The dog gave me an exuberant paw swipe across the face and I wrestled it down to indicate my displeasure. After that, the dog didn't try anything too rambunctious, though it kept testing me on wanting to chew the vines I had just pruned. So I ended up doing some dog training. Which was similar to last year at a different vineyard, when the big-dog puppy (different breed, similar fur color) insisted on chewing vines. That dog was particularly persistent and domineering, and thank goodness it was tethered, as I only had to deal with it when in tether range.

The weather is warming up, and the snow is starting to melt, and for two days now, "fluffy" rain, a wet snow that doesn't stay on the ground or roads. Better than -8C with the wind blowing by far, but the vineyard folks usually don't like to work in the rain. I find this mildly humorous, given my past forestry work in all weather conditions.

Saturday, and the landlords arrived back from their 4 week holiday in Mexico, looking very tanned. They gave me some foodie presents, and even some cash which they didn't have to do.

Major Netflix watching these days, and heavy on documentaries on musicians, or the music business; Amy Winehouse, Glen Campbell, Eagles, Rolling Stones, George Harrison, Janis Joplin, Joe Cocker, Bob Weir, Tom Petty, Frank Zappa and a few others have been well served by my new found interest in their work. Many of these performers were never in my musical interests, but I became an admirer of all of them, and even a fan of some. The Muscle Shoals documentary was also well done. And the longer format serves the subjects well, up to 4 hours is no big deal when at home.

Sunday, and a major mellow day. Finally I was allowed to get my 2017 papers organized and filed, making way for getting my income tax return done next week. Nothing too spectacular on the gangstalking front when I was out, though they did put a negro on at the eggs section, in keeping with past bizarre gangstalking scenes at this same situation at other stores. And the specialty store is getting a refurbishment, and now, adding new checkouts that face the opposite direction; that is, I face N when at the cashier, switched from S. I cannot see any great reason for this, as the checkouts are at the same location as before. Maybe its another round of changing the anisotrophy of plasma or etheric energetics in the perps' insane quest of stalking and hounding my ass whenever I make a financial transaction. Lets see; I have only shopped there just over 6 years, so we have a long way to go.

Speaking of which, more incessant mind planted notion that they are going to cease hostilities "soon". (Their version of "soon" is sometime, mine is tomorrow). And of course they won't cease hostilities, or non-consensual human experimentation any time soon, depending on whose definition you follow. They are nothing but relentless, consistent and cruel, 24x7, and I am not expecting anything to be different this year, or a year from now. And too, they are dropping the romantic notions with ML in mind nearly constantly at times; as always, I have no interest in such, and operate from the perspective of wishing to be left alone. Plus they play up the planted notions of Ms C of the story as well, which they claim is the same person, just morphed over. Which may well be true as they have the same build, but give the hissy fit and frosty spells emanating from Ms C, this would be the last person for me to come to mind if left to my own thoughts.

Anyhow, enough of a week's trial, and onto posting this one.

Sunday, February 25, 2018

Same Job, Different Vineyard

The assholes kept me up all night for some reason. And true to form, per external interference, I wasn't a bit tired at all for the entire day.

I swapped vineyards today, and started with 6" snow on ground. Even if a 10 min. commute, getting there was eventful due to a pair of dudes who seemed unusually coordinated for pedestrians. I was E bound, 60' from the intersection and the light was green. An oncoming vehicle was 20' from the intersection, proceeding W bound. Most of the road surface was bare, but there was plenty of snow and ice on the sidewalks and street gutters. And this pair of Fuckwit males at the corner step out as if to cross the street (No Walk for them) in front of the oncoming white vehicle, but it didn't stop or brake any, and together the dudes backed off and retreated to the snowy sidewalk. Not perfectly choreographed, but close to it. The oncoming vehicle passed through without incident and I went through still on the green light, and the dudes stepped out into the street as I was passing through. Talk about a need for a Pedestrian's License; had the oncoming vehicle braked hard for the Fuckwits it could of hit an icy patch and gone anywhere. I cannot believe how two dudes could coordinate this street crossing stupidity with such adroitness without any regard to the snowy and icy conditions unless it was orchestrated. Good for getting my trauma reaction going in any event.

Yoga tonight, and the perverse "visit the victim" choreography again. A never-seen-before dude in a beard just needed to move his mat too close to me, and after I moved mine away, he moves his mat closer again. Like WTF; can we make it more obvious or what. Later after the class, he does a "just stand there" pose, the typical need to be seen stalk, while doing nothing.

Sunny, though cold all day for vineyard pruning using my new loppers. A new tool, especially a cutting tool, is always a big deal for the perp assholes.

Another perishing cold day working in the vineyard.

After the previous night of no sleep, I though I would get left alone, but no... I was cold that night, so I got a sleeping bag and added that to my bedding. Big mistake; the perps woke me up twice with excruciating cramps in my leg to have me walk around to work it off, 10 min. each time. I suppose this was all about removing me from my bedding for a while, given that I have a new set up.

Then they screwed me out of getting up with the alarm, so I had to abbreviate my morning routine and not shave any, and even at that I started work a half hour late.

And so it seems a lot more disruption, particularly with clothing of late; forcing me to take a piss, having my hat come off, having me take my gloves off etc. I came home at lunch to get the charger for the electric pruners, and then they wouldn't let my boot go back on properly. Another screaming session over that, which is what they pulled this morning, as they had me "forget" there was paper wadded in the boots to draw out the moisture in them. As to how it gets there I have no idea as my feet aren't sweating any, and I have foot warmers in them too.

The electric pruners worked, then didn't, for a second day when they had worked fine before for the owners. Again, more disruption over this, and replacing them with the manual loppers

I saw "Who Stole Johnny" (Gosch) on Netflix. Interesting that the FBI and Des Moines police didn't' want to do much, determinedly so. As the story unfolded, the boy's mother, Noreen Gosch did meet her son for an hour, but he didn't want publicity. And from this she learned that they, the pedophiles, apply mind control to them (the kept kids). As to what form this takes she didn't say, or more likely, didn't know. Even the Discovery Channel spiked a story on this case. A very high up cover up for sure, and related to child trafficking. This story never played up here in Canada at the time, so forgive me that I am catching up on this one.

A blood test this morning; following two interesting changes in my circumstances; I started sleeping on the floor, somewhat jaded by my camp cot of four years. The duvet kept falling off, all the more noticeable as it is so perishing cold inside. Even with the heater set at 22C, it is 18C across the room, some 15' away. The other coincidence is that the assholes screwed me out of taking my medications this morning, something I faithfully take; selegiline and tamsulosin. Not a big deal, just an oddity, but of significance for one being hounded all the time and controlled to the microsecond.

A perishing cold day working in the vineyard today, getting at later start at 0900h, and finishing at 1700h, one hour offset from my usual time there.

Cold outside again, with a 1/2" skiff of snow that arrived overnight, and thereby causing me to be cleaning it up from the paths and driveways, again, doing the landlord's duties who are still away in Mexico.

What is it about picking up a parcel that so interests the perps? Is it the brown cardboard, or that the item is from elsewhere, that I am taking possession or what? They even put on the brown people too, about five E. Indian women clustered together looking at the cosmetics, just in stock still mode, not even talking. It is highly unlikely that they would be there looking at white folk's cosmetics, and since they are singularly thrifty, why anyhow. And this peculiar "don't talk flock", just stand there some 40' from me in the aisle that axially faced the line for the PO. And too, four customers lined up in front of me, a high number given my usual experience, which includes last week when I picked up the landlord's parcel. And too, one blonde dude in the line just departs drifts out from the line from the PO and then looks at the adjacent post cards for crissakes. And if that weren't ridiculous enough, he then browses over to the adjacent rack of shipping envelopes. For someone who was in line for the PO? Hilarious.

Then when I was traversing the store to depart with parcel in hand, this Fuckwit steps in front of me without so much as a look or an apology, coming from an aisle end. Then he turns into another aisle, and then waits for me to pass and then follows me out the store for crissakes, not having made a purchase. He of some scarred face, possibly a burn victim. So what was that about? Then when outside a cluster of vehicles on me when waiting to turn to exit, and then a "just standing there" cell phoning Fuckwit woman sentry, in the typical pose I have come to know since all this shit came down 04-2002. And no end of pit lamping, that is, headlights pointed at me on store entry, making turns etc. And an unusual pit lamping; this guy and his wife get out of their vehicle in front of the PO entrance, and he is locking it up, and the backup lights alone are on. I have never seen this before, but nothing much surprises me when getting pit lamped.

And what is with the yellow plasma splotching games when I exit my vehicle at the end of the day, over the background of snow? They assault me with yellow plasma splotches, 6-10" or so, some half dozen at a time in my visual field, and keep hounding me with this anywhere I look at the snow, which I am bound to be doing, watching where I walk. I worked some 8 hours today in the snow, and had none of this horseshit, but when I get home, and out of my vehicle, this starts up until I go inside. No pissing in the snow today, so I don't know why this is going on.

Perishing cold all day, around -8C with some falling snow, about 10kph breeze and no sun. This while vineyard pruning, my gig at this time of year. Later in the summer it will be 35C, and I don't mind that at all. I have dual layer gloves with toe warmers dropped in them, plus a glove liner, Minus 100 boots with toe warmers in them, three layers of tops, plus ski jacket, running tights for long johns and windproof hiking pants on, plus a balaclava, neck warmer, toque covered with the hood of the ski jacket, plus oversized safely glasses (similar to goggles), and I am barely warm enough. I swear the ski jacket is letting me down, though I am loathe to fork out another one because they are expensive and tend to get beat up in this job. I will have to up the ante and get out my ski pants and then get my fleece tights underneath next week to see if I can do better, though of course, the temperature may rise. I wondered why I had these ski pants all these 6 years and never used them, not being a skier in the first place. So it would seem the perps had this one planned too, that far back. Enough I figured, so I ordered some ski goggles with an integral fitting balaclava that fits tight to the goggle frame. Hope springs eternal that I will stay warm outside all day in this weather. I suppose the next step is heated garments, so who knows where this is all going with these electromagnetic devices attached to me.

Speaking of which, walking around with a battery pack for electric pruners might have served this purpose, (and added some warmth by pulling my ski jacket in close and preventing it from moving and puffing the warm air to the outside, but no such luck. In keeping with the problems I have had with these devices, the vineyard owners have a Chinese model, and the battery crapped out after three tries. I suppose the ideal would be to have the electric pruner battery not only run the pruners, but electrically heated garments as well, though I think we are a long way from that. But its in the wind I suspect; all those power tool manufacturers are now making job site radios (for crissakes), so one day maybe they will extend their product line to have battery heated garments as well. More spring eternalizing again. And part of this whole scenario is that my body temperature is consistently 36.4C, (normal is 37.0C), so it does make me wonder if I am losing the battle just by adding on more clothing. Onto electrically heated wardrobes, hopefully starting with one's feet, fingers and then perhaps one's face with a electrically heated toque. Who knows, but this snow and cold aren't abating anytime soon.

And three major cramp attacks in the night, one leg or the other, causing me to wake up in considerable pain and then walk it off for 10 minutes. I swear it is imposed by external means, and initiated to get me out of bed now that I have added a sleeping bag into my night time sleeping arrangements. And too, all this is on the floor on my yoga mat, ditching my 4 year long camping cot in the mean time. (A mentioned, I got plain fed up with the duvet dropping off the cot, so I decided that by sleeping on the floor it had no place to go, and I might stay warmer.) I am now sleeping warmer, but I am now interrupted by the leg cramp attacks, now for the third night straight. Woo hoo, it is so nice to be under someone's heel in these adverse weather conditions....

Saturday, like last Saturday, snow fell in the night, this time only 2" of the most fluffiest snow I have seen. Given my expanded duties while the landlord is in Mexico for a month, it was up to me to clean the driveway, sidewalk, walking paths etc. Not such a big deal as last Saturday when it started/stopped 3x over the day. This time, only one dump.

Later, I took the vehicle to get the tailgate support struts installed at the Ford dealership. I purchased them online, had them delivered, and they installed them. The bill indicated 18 minutes of shop time, but I waited 90 minutes total in the waiting room of the dealership for some reason. And they didn't even clean the vehicle or any of those usual perks one gets there. Again, the parade of males trotted through, as the coffee machine is there. For the last 20 minutes an attractive blonde woman was there too sitting in the waiting area, and none of the turbans and freaks like there was two weeks ago. The Olympic hockey game kept me interested for most of the time there. I had interleaved my laundromat activities while there, so while my towels were tumbling one kilometer away, I was kept at the Ford dealership for this extended duration.

Interference on to-do lists; missing items, shutting down a certain pharmacy at 1500h, as I wanted to get something for my verruca on my L foot that has been pissing me off for two weeks now. And each week day I seem to be running late after work to get to this particular pharmacy. As to why they need to interfere on this I don't know, but it is the same verruca that magically appeared the day after they first went berserk/overt in their apartment invasion in 04-2002. One came up on my R foot two years ago and I managed to treat it and get rid of it last year.

Sunday, and I decided to get going on organizing my 2017 papers, as it seems that such isn't allowed until year end. Then a need to go do some vineyard week, as I will need to make up some hours due to an upcoming doctor appointment. The boss man had his farm truck blocking the driveway, so I parked beside it. Just when I was about to head to the vineyard, after getting my toque, gloves, goggles, tool belt etc. on, the boss man arrives in his L hand drive vehicle. He said he was going to plow the place, so I could park elsewhere, so no problem, I did. I just find it such an amazing coincidence he would arrive at the same time, as this Sunday work was not planned on my part. So more disruption, in taking off the gloves tool belt etc., then moving the vehicle and then getting set up again. The perps just love this shit; getting dressed up in so many clothes for the cold weather and then disrupting me so I have to take some off or else open them up. Last year while pruning, and the snow was on the ground, they kept hitting me with pissing attacks so that I needed to piss every 30 minutes. Which meant of course, lots of clothing disruption, including to open my ski coat to deal with this issue.

On my way out of the vineyard at 1700h, just as I was about to turn out from the driveway onto Naramata Rd, why, a pit lamping vehicle sitting beside the road, headlights aimed at me. Like WTF; can't the assholes get enough light on me in the day, when they seem to be farting around with the clouds and bringing on the sunlight while working? No; pit lamping is getting a higher profile of late. Said pit lampers were a vehicle full of E. Indians, making out that they were lost for crissakes.

The perps were on my ass all day long with pruning cuttings "just happening" to be falling back to place after I cut them. The usual expectation is that they flip out of the way so one can see one is making progress, but no, they wanted to piss me off.

Also on the piss off theme was the loppers; I sharpened them for the first time last night using a diamond stone, and within 5 seconds of using them today, a trellis wire end "just happened" to be in the cut and the blade got dulled for 1/2" of its length. Was I pissed or what. I spent 30 minutes sharpening them, and the assholes had them dulled in 5 seconds. Normally, if there is such a thing, I don't cut the wires, but this was a wire end, and somehow escaped my notice. Well done assholes.

Something I got via email; I haven't checked it out yet. I am not big on the talk lines etc. but for those who are, there maybe something of interest. 
Talkshoe call (724)-444-7444 Tuesday 3pm pst to 6pm pst
Other websites to check out or you tube:

Anyhow, enough for a post for this week.