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.

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