Sunday, September 30, 2018

Get Yer Booties On

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday, September 23, 2018

In the Sleep Study

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday, September 16, 2018

Work Boot Sabotage; Round 6

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saturday, September 08, 2018

Labor Day

Labor Day here, or more accurately, Labour Day. A mellow one too, after getting a hike in yesterday, though not a taxing one. What was taxing was a trip to the SOF supermarket and enduring the gangstalking hordes. In particular was the obstruction fuckery, as they laid it on thick. Obstructing the avocadoes seemed to be a big deal, and too, the shrink wrap. Three times I wanted to get to the avocadoes, and a Fuckwit had arrived ahead of me, and was obviously lingering there, and fondling the fruit for some obscure reason, and not selecting any. Kind of like "warm ups", where the Fuckwit does the same thing in advance of me at the same location I intend to, but doesn't go all the way and put the items in their shopping basket. I don't think I have a name for this variant (fruit fondling in advance of the victim selecting the same fruit items for purchase), though I have reported the arrivals of the Fuckwits just ahead of me for "just standing there" duty, aka obstruction.

Then, with a 5 minute interval for waiting (shopping elsewhere) for the apparently pondering woman Fuckwit to stop obstructing the shrink wrap section, she was still there, pondering. Finally she cleared out and I got the new 152m size and got out of there. I just don't know what it is about shrink wrap that so obsesses the perps, but in retrospect I should of not of been surprised. I suppose the former 90m size (plenty enough) got too tired for the perps, and they had it removed from the inventory and now it is a 152m for $4. I am quite convinced they control a lot of product packaging to create small variances in whatever energetic properties that confers among their test subjects. (Which by extension, could be all of us).

The Fuckwits were also on my ass when I entered the store, a Fuckwit pinch-in, with them coming at me and attempting to get closer to me together from different directions. Just what is it about the assholes they need to close in on me in public all the time?

And before the masers got too invasive I was reading a book outside when it was sunnier. And just what is it about this particular single engine aircraft that it needs to make 8 noisy passes overhead over a 1.5 hour duration? Add in the HD motorcycle noise next door, the lawnmower and a few others, and lo, we have a noisescape of successive internal combustion noise sources while reading a book. And not to forget, the intake of knowledge is a big deal for the assholes, a highly stalkable moment in victim harassment.

The fuzzy maser balls arrived in increasing numbers while reading my book, eventually pairing up in parallel and delineating the line I was reading at that very moment, and then following me in bounding the next line down when I read on. After a minute of that, I gave up and put the book down.

A week of work without interruptions (doctor's appointments, workplace shutdown etc.) last week, and of course, with 400 guys on the job, plenty of opportunity to plant Fuckwits upon me. The most obvious was when I was handling pallets, another special "need" for them to send in hordes of dudes, often in file (6 or 8), just as I turn a corner (another perp "special moment") with the pallet when carrying it to the elevator to dispose of it. I also get lots of unexpected help with pallet loading and handling from dudes I don't even know.

I went to the Dream Cafe for a show on Friday, Aug. 31. A good show, and I was placed in the front row, 8' from the performers. And not the usual stare-at-me event from the performers, save the one time the female singer was bending over to look at her gear sideways and shot me a look just as I was looking at her. I have had this kind of "coincidental stare" events before, even before all this shit rained down on me in 04-2002, though in this instance it was difficult to tell if it was orchestrated. But as it "happens" just about every time, I doubt that it was a random event, even if I was close to the stage.

A visit to the sleep doctor, who also "happened" to be a shrink for crissakes. I hadn't met this doctor before, and most of the discussion was around my disrupted sleep that began  01-2018. On the occasion that the consult did veer into ADD and dopamine, she seemed so flaccid and terse and disinclined to tell me anything. And she even suggested that I was "focused" on it, though not over-focused (which would of pissed me off). I also thought it was absurd that she suggested "non-medical interventions for ADD" (but I did not challenge her on this one). She referred me for a sleep study after a brief in-mouth examination, and it was me who had to ask her whether I should be taking my ADD medications or not at that time to facilitate sleep for the study.

Chalk another one up for finding yet another weird shrink, this one inadvertently. In 22 years of attempting to get my ADD professionally attended to, the count is now 3 normal (helpful and progressive) shrinks to 11 weird shrinks (obstructive idiots who somehow "failed" to marshal all the facts, as well as ask the appropriate diagnostic questions). On the face of it, that's a 79% failure rate to diagnose the obvious, never mind the ones that got it totally wrong and jerked me around, assuming they weren't being directed to do so. And too, never mind that I told them what the diagnosis was, and why, and I still got blown off. Never has a medical specialty failed so miserably for so long to such a trail of living human wreckage. Bring on brain scans and more science to back it up, and dump that DSM committee bullshit at once, and by extension, all the downstream poseurs.

And just to think, that the psychiatric (sic) medical specialty, (I am loathe to use the word "profession" in this instance) got it totally wrong starting with Dr. Haslam who imposed a psychosis (or like) diagnosis on the twice declared sane, James Tilley Matthews in 1797 who died while incarcerated for a condition he didn't have in 1814. What was the real situation? He was a TI victim! Read the book, "The Air Loom Gang", since renamed to a prejudgmental "A Visionary Madness"  by Mike Jay. To have over 200 years of advance planning to pollute and discredit a medical specialty takes a lot of planning IMHO.

Friday, and a work day at the construction site, with a mixed up start. I had a fasting blood test to do, which meant going into the lab at opening time, 0800h after having no breakfast. But as work begins at 0700h I figured I would go into work until 0900h, take the usual 30 min. morning break by going to the lab, and then go back to work. And all too often, "elaborate" plans get blown up; the boss man wasn't to be found for 20 minutes, and when I did find him, he obviously didn't have enough for me to do as he was distracted by other issues. I proposed to go to the lab and get the test done, and come back. However, while on the construction site and before I departed the seeming gangstalking workers were all over my ass, especially at every door and/or turn I made. Like WTF; who told them I was fasting and to turn on the gangstalking all the more?

And when I arrived at the lab, I parked in an adjacent public parking lot that was empty, about 50 stalls. And lo, when I get back, why, two same colored blood red vehicles parked on either side of mine. Well done; going to the blood lab can initiate (somehow) the strangest of events. Related to this, was that there were only two other patients, when past experience was there would be at least 10-12 at this particular time for the blood test lab (other fasting patients).

Will the PTB (Powers That Be) continue to harass innocent citizens, especially if they have ADD? Why of course, and a long read is at this link, written by a medical student who was run out of Dalhousie University in the last months of his physician medical training. I have no claim to being harassed by universities while there (long ago in my case), but it seems plain to me that someone decided that they didn't want him as a future physician and set up the scenario whereby he got hit with a low grade on his residency by a cooperating doctor, which then precipitated the student's formal complaint to the university administration, and then the gloves were off. But re-casting ADD into "delusional disorder" by the administratively appointed shrink is a familiar practice to me. The student, a Canadian, ultimately relocating to Ecuador. And so it goes; the Fates decided you aren't one of them, and will run you out of town (or your chosen profession).

I am getting dithered to be slack and less attentive to this blog that I have been over the past two months, and am wondering what (more like who) has come over me. Or more accurately, who is doing this and what does it portend, and what is the next chapter in all of this?

And I have spent many hours over recent weeks pondering this question, as it "happens" they are having me "forget" more often, and especially that now infuriating process of getting out the door. (The door to outside, usually when headed to work or on errands). It is plain that no end of things "go wrong" at that juncture from broken shoe laces, to discovering new marks and tears on my clothing, and of course the long running, and now much more frequent forced "forgets", usually after I have passed through the gate at least (20' away), and then remember something I intended to bring on my way to the vehicle. My read on this has always been that I am transitioning from one energetic situation (inside my residence) to a different one, outside, transiting lawn, gravel and asphalt to get to my parked vehicle in the lane on the other side of the fence (45' in all). That I meet gangstalkers passing by with great frequency in the lane before I get into my vehicle hasn't gone unnoticed, usually with the dog walking excuse, which gets them more dwell time. The Psychopaths even put an ambulance on, "happening" to pass through this back lane when I was at my vehicle when they never do, save emergencies, which wasn't the case. I have long complained of "ambulance chasing", as in prominent vehicular gangstalking, but sending one down a back lane takes the cake as far as over-obvious orchestration goes.

Transiting the said lawn from my residence to the gate has also taken on a new dimension, with the underground sprinkler head failing to do its usual full 360 degree duty, and the landlord not doing anything about it, curiously. I end up walking over lawn that is irrigated from the sprinkler head, and now, a portion of lawn where it has "failed". (It was uniformly irrigated until 06-2018). Given that the sprinkler was installed in my walking path last year, it is most odd that it has now partially failed. But given my perp abetting mother's erratic sprinkler systems at her place, and the perp's long standing interest in water supply, which pipes, what materials, what sprinkler heads, faucet valve types their materials etc., having a malfunctioning sprinkler head, and unevenly irrigated lawn that I traverse daily isn't too much of a surprise to me.

Anyhow, my recall dithering has been slightly escalated of late, and not just when exiting my residence. Even when removing items from the fridge I get temporarily dithered and wonder what on earth caused such a momentary notion loss. And to complement that, I am now getting plenty of planted notions on what it will be like to be older; impaired mobility, cognitive function etc. I don't know and I don't want to go there, but it seems that geriatric diminution of one's faculties is the next long playing take-down here in Perplandia. As to how to duck this one I have no idea, as any effort on my part can be readily thwarted, by of course, more things "going wrong".

More on the increased masers (coherent magnetic radiation), those (usually) fuzzy or filamentous black blobs that keep erupting at every turn, even if I were to make a decision, even the most pedantic choice, say over which item I would purchase in a grocery store. ( I mentioned above the fuzzy ball masers bouncing along in pairs, above and below the very line of text I am reading in a book, tracking the very words I read at the very same reading speed as me). How does one get more obviously invasive than that?

And too, it would seem the perps are at it with packaging changes for the very same item inside the package, in this case, the wart remover that I was forced to purchase yet again. (The fourth time in succession). I got rid of a R foot wart last year, and decided to take on the L foot one that suddenly (yes) arrived 04-2002, the day they invaded my apartment in Seattle and initiated this onset of terror and abuse (perp beserkness) that I still report on 16 years later. Just when the latter wart is about cured, why, the perps spring another plantar wart on a toe on my R foot, necessitating another fucking round of wart treatment. But this time, they changed the packaging for this relatively obscure product. They simply cannot have enough to do, or else they are so mired in contingent energetic interaction research they cannot pull their collective head from their ass. Ergo, this picture of the packaging differences.

Anyhow, enough of this protracted slackness, and to get this one posted for the past two weeks or so.