Sunday, April 28, 2019

Yet More Helicopter Coverage

Vineyard activity today; the helicopters were busy on some kind of long line bucket training. It seemed to be "AStar day", as there was at least two of them working. (The AStar (AS 350) is now called the H125 in Airbus-speak). The "usual" spitting of plasma and maser beams from them, as well as a maser "glow". That is, a blackish cloud surrounding the helicopter as it traversed. In both cases, they were ferrying extremely slowly, and not always dragging the long line. In one instance, the red and white AStar came and circled overhead and went back to the Penticton airport (I presume, the direction it came from). Talk about making it obvious. In another instance, a blackish line projected from the long trailing line, and came at me, separated from the helicopter. The perps seem to be able to make these blackish lines, filaments, zingers etc., which I take to be magnetic masers, project from anything, including people. As a rule, they don't travel too fast; it takes about three seconds for them to travel some 10km in my experience.

There were other models of helicopters traversing over the vineyard at times, and per "ususal", they inserted the odd noisy single engine private plane.

The Psychopaths seem to be on the rag today, fucking me around ("forgets"), pulling items from my hands etc. All the "usual" fuckery.

Stalker coverage was heavy at LD and SOF, and one couple "happened" to stalk me at the first location, and lo, if there weren't there ahead of me at the checkout *after two others)  at the second location. And fugly dudes in shorts were on display bigtime tonight. You know, the shorts sized so big that two guys could fit in them. Also the waddling males presentations too. Add in the tattoos down the arms, and especially the dude at the checkout behind me who just "happened" to immediately arrive after me to show off his disgusting tatt-splat. I don't know how he pulled that as I was fed up with the couple stalking, as as only one manned checkout was open, I was cautious for another stalker erupting on me and was certain there wasn't another. And lo, this Fuckwit erupts from an adjacent aisle and proceeds directly to the cashier.

The fat fucker stalker dude at LD managed to cover me three times at three different aisle ends; well done shit head; how did you know that aisle ends and directional changes (ambulatory or vehicular) are the number one gangstalking moment (aka, anisotropy of space) and have been for over 17 years of this insane shit and abuse that suddenly rained (and reigned) down 04-2002. Actually, that should be the anisotropy of the charge field that fills space (here on Earth).

Then I got back at 2130h from LD and SOF, dark by then, and the rail for the sliding gate fell down off the wall. So I finish off putting my purchases in the house, and go outside with the flashlight (after the Psychopaths infuriated me by fucking me out of recognizing the flashlight as it was hanging in its regular spot (or else they temporarily teleported it)), and dealt with the rail, and lo, just as I finished fixing it, why, another helicopter overhead. Well done assholes; the final helicopter coverage (stalking) event (all of five seconds) was exquisitely timed to me being delayed (an extra trip outside) by the gate rail that "happened" to drop off, as it does every three months or so.

One could safely say the perps were on the rag today in terms of extra (over and above the imposed extra normal) things going wrong, infuriations, mind-fucks, extra late-night shopping stalking and checkout obstructions and the rest of their fucking insanity. Just leave me out, and I don't care if I am Victim Zero, Prime Subject or whatever the terminology they use for TI's under this intense barrage of extra-conventional abuse and gangstalking coverage.

Yesterday I took my vehicle to the Ford dealership for an oil change; I thought it would be an hour, but no, two hours in the waiting area. And what a shit show of gangstalking in the waiting area; no end of "staff", particularly the heavy tattoo-ed ones, just kept needing to visit the waiting area for the coffee maker. The featured woman staff member did at least three visits, and it was she I also saw at the beginning and end of my visit. (And with whom I booked the appointment with, as I was told that only she could book tire changes; but as it was going to take three weeks I got it done somewhere else). The ever friendly blonde woman gave me a hug (uncharacteristically) when I first arrived, even if I was at the service desk with someone else. That was the end of her, and none of the usual chatting, as she was elsewhere (most curiously) for the two hour stay. So I suppose it was about having me be interested in K**i (a low cut top helped) instead of T**h, when I expected to be nattering to the latter. Another one of those dashed expectations stunts again.

Later I went to Kelowna for some errands, and also stopped by a hifi shop for an hour long audiophile presentation on AC power; And lo, if Kelowna AC power supply isn't equivalent to that found in the third world in terms of line fluctuations and line noise. Well done Fortis.

Audio shutdown on the PC again; after two weeks of intense infuriation in 01-2019 as to fixing it, though not known how, the Psychopaths have struck again, and PC audio is now fucked; As in not playing from the audio player, internet sources. Well done assholes in raising the infuriation level yet again.

More heavy helicopter coverage; the AStars again, and at least one doing the back-and-forth extra-obvious stalking run. My acerbic rejoinder for these events, is that the pilot forgot to bring his lunch, but two days in succession?

Another Hwy 97 road block incident, less than a kilometer from where the same "happened" the very evening I was to go to Kelowna, April 14. Well, I suppose this can happen, but for crissakes, if the road width supports putting a concrete median barrier in, then do it. And from personal experience, and per linked photo, it seems that there is sufficient road width. Make it a five year plan, and start on the worst bends first.

Continued high strangeness coming from the vineyard owner today, as it has been all week. To the point I think she is quietly deranged, or else acting out a skit that has been orchestrated for her. As to why she rounds on me, and yet was so impersonal earlier in the week, I have no idea. That the boss man has let matters slide to the point that the pruning wasn't adequately resourced for the last month is also mighty curious. (Now pruning as the buds burst). No telltale signs of twitchy mouth or other behavioral strangeness coming from her, so I am going to assume this was one big all-week skit. Well done; you had me fooled and that served the Psychopathic cause for all the "usual" perp stunts;
  • "find" me" at a row end (again, changing direction is a HUGE deal for the perps), 
  • run the irrigation for no seeming reason (water supply from various sources is another substantial perp interest),
  • put on the "don't know you" act; e.g. "were you the person who was here two days ago?" -yes, and you are way too smart to ask such a dumb question unless you are seriously cognitively impaired,
  • standing behind me (3x in 5 minutes, saying nothing) for no apparent reason is gangstalking writ large, and 
  • splitting my colleague apart so we would then incrementally work closer is another long time perp stunt.
Go fuck yourself; and act real crazy next time. And you can be sure I am not going back to re-evaluate the quality of your acting.

Not letting up on the helicopter coverage at this vineyard, why, a first-time sighting of a low flying Canadian military CH-148 Cyclone, (Sikorsky S-92, military variant) operational only since June 2018. As to why it "happened" to fly 600 miles inland and appear overhead I have no idea. Its predecessors, the Sea Kings, were also regular over-flight helicopter choices when I lived in Victoria, where a squadron is based.

Enough for the week, and onto posting this.

Sunday, April 21, 2019

Oh Boy- Penticton Made the News Today

That would be Monday, April 15 that Penticton made the news, even the national news here in Canada. This iposting is authored a day later as I just got back to my residence in Penticton; I was in Kelowna when all this happened, and I will explain my concurrent circumstances below.

And what happened was a targeted vendetta type murder of four people in three locations and that the perpetrator turned himself into the police all by himself afterward. Here on Castanet, the Okanagan Valley's online news and events site are the main details. (Or here at the Penticton Herald article). And the day after, the perpetrator gets his first court appearance. The first victim happened to be pruning shrubs at the moment of his sudden demise, and it "so happens" that I have been pruning vineyards at this time of year for the past seven years. Hmm.... Obviously much more is to come to learn just what was the motivation, but our dear RCMP (Royal Canadian Mendacious Plods) aren't going to release any victim names because it is not needed for the investigation they say. The perpetrator is a former city engineer, now retired, and is said to be a gentle person. Not your usual mass shooter for sure.
And the local TV news also dwelled on an prior targeted local (Salmon Arm) murder of a church elder, who was shot at a church service (April 14) no less. This some three weeks after his house was burned down.

Another major event on April 15 was the fire at Notre Dame Cathedral, interspersed with the above local murder stories. And what the wretched media didn't report was there there have been a string of prior fires at Roman Catholic churches in France in the past year, and the Notre Dame cathedral fire just might of not been an accident. The chickens have come home to roost, et alors, ne rien.

All this occurred while I was in Kelowna on the operating table for surgery, and after recovery time, it was 5 hours of elapsed time. The operation was successful and I had to stay at a guest home in Kelowna last night. It was there on television that I learned of the shooting in my home town. So the timing was this; surgery started at about 0800h, and so while I was away, being operated on and under general anesthetic, why, these murderous ructions erupted some 75km away in my home town. When I was first cognitive in the recovery room it was 1110h. An interesting coincidence that, but that is where I am going to leave it. Most regular readers will know what I think of coincidences in this kept state of being a TI.

And attempting to get to Kelowna Sunday night (April 14) was another coincidence eruption. The 97 Hwy was blocked due to a tandem tractor trailer truck not making a sweeping bend and then went out of control and hit an oncoming passenger vehicle. The southbound  tandem truck was hauling a load of dimension lumber that spilled over the road. I was attempting to drive to Kelowna (northbound) and stay over that night and be ready, and in town for the surgery. But to no avail as the traffic advisory notice indicated a 5 hour delay. Once I turned around and got back home, why, the traffic advisory indicated single lane alternating traffic. This forced me to get up early at 0430h as I did not know for sure that the road was clear, or if blocked, and it gave me some time to get to Kelowna via an alternate route if needed. By the time I passed the accident site the next morning, all four lanes were clear and there was only a pile of lumber on the side of the road. Exemplary road maintenance for sure, but while no one was killed, I am quite sure there were some life-altering injuries. In the least, from the perp perspective, it was a case of their fuckery to cause me to travel part way, and then return; a dashed expectations stunt perhaps. A sure fire habit of theirs.

In the recovery room at the hospital, and while coming to after the general anesthetic, why, the masers came on, zinging around as fuzzy blackish balls in all manner of directions. Just to say perhaps, "hi there, we are still with you". Something like that. The staff were great, save perhaps the one male doing spread legs (while seated) in front of me, he being the anesthesiologist, the keeper of the patient (me) while being operated on. That he had to come twice to visit me in the waiting area pre-operation was a little curious after he got all he needed to know from me and whatever the nurse wrote down. The perps love doing repeats of particular themes, and the male postures and vignettes (think of abuse situations here), have been a long running theme these past 17 years of harassment abuse at the hands of the perps.

As I have written many times in past postings, it would seem that the perps (among many other objectives) are attempting to elicit abreactions (subconscious trauma responses) that they likely had a hand in making during the three years they wiped most of my recall when aged 2 to 5. I wouldn't be the first child to have been treated as such, as Ann Diamond, a Canadian author was also subjected to recall deletions at that same location and approximate time. That being the infamous McGill University, Montreal, under the atrocities perpetrated by Dr. Ewen Cameron's (and staff) misguided, if not utterly egregious mind control experiments, many of which were perpetrated on children. In Ann Diamond's case, her parents were astute and took action when they suspected something was amiss. As for my parents, I consider them as assholes to be witting and willing dipshits to hand their first born child to a doctor (for no clinical cause) who knew utter shit about neurology (or psychiatry), and was a better political player than anything else. And who exactly got cured anyhow? (Assuming that there was a prior complaint in the first place,- which would not be children).

And given other Canadian atrocities, such as the Residential Schools, why hasn't there been any Royal Commission to investigate this? And ditto for the Duplessis Orphans of Quebec of that same time, who in part, were served up as child subjects for Dr. Ewen Cameron, as well as sponsoring terminal experimentation on children in many other Roman Catholic hospitals in Quebec. The last I heard was that the Duplessis Orphans had to go to the UN to seek investigative action against the Canadian government who are digging in their heels. Not so for the Residential Schools issue, where the politicians are falling all over each other to make "apologies". Maybe it is that the native Indians get more news coverage in the government sponsored media for some reason.

And April 15, 2019 also marked the day of the 17th anniversary that the Psychopathic Perp assholes invaded my apartment and rained down abuse and torture of the most unconventional kind. There was a week prior of everyone staring at me at work for no reason whatsoever, and the Ms. C of the story (41pp.) also got into the act of tipping me off to raise my angst all the more as to just what was going to come down. Come down they did; someone was obviously in my apartment when I returned April 14, (or else it was made to look that way by way of telekinetic fuckery). If you want a long read it is all there.

I am feeling better, less sore, and even sustained a morning long effort in getting all my medical expenses for 2018 ordered and organized in a spread sheet for income tax return purposes. It was permissible to take my first shower, and that I did.

I watched two more episodes of Spartacus last night, and lo, if I didn't have vivid dreams that I was in a like situation, save the lewdity and naked nymphs (unfortunately). Funny how I did not have dreams of Monty Python vignettes when I was binge watching them earlier this year. I could of done with more of that.

 I did two outings in my vehicle this afternoon to do errands and grocery shopping. This would be my first local outing (driving, parking, and shopping) since the surgery in my town, and what a almighty full-on clusterfuck of a gangstalking it was on both occasions. And of some note, I wore a blue and grey fleece jacket for the first time as it had been sitting around for at least four years and I "found" it ahead of going out. It is the perfect weather to be wearing such, another mighty fine coincidence, and so I wore it for both outings.

The vehicular gangstalking traffic was at least 20 vehicle long trains, and add in the odd oncoming rube who just wouldn't stop for a late yellow when I waiting to turn and he  barrelled through. I gave him the finger for that one (which I rarely do) as it was so outrageously blatant, besides holding me up from making my L turn, which ended up on the red light. Said rube seemed to be unusually ready for my finger and gave one back almost immediately. Curious that. And they kept me for two traffic cycles at the main Hwy and town junction, a rarity that I hadn't experienced in all my seven years of living here. And the same late yellow light running shit again at this same intersection (Hwy 97 and Ekhardt) when I went on my second outing which repeated much the same route and two stops of the f

The Main Street was also plugged with vehicular gangtalking trains of 20 or more, two lanes wide in many places. The ambulatory gangstalkers were also all over my ass at LD and SOF. Funny how they know in advance exactly where I am going and post a Fuckwit or three at that exact store location. (A product shelf location or obstructing egress often at an aisle end). At least they removed the posted Fuckwits when I returned for a second time. Past intense gangstalking has shown that they will post a Fuckwit stalker at a store shelf location that I want to go to for at least 15 minutes, or to the point that I say "fuck it" and depart the premises.

And the ambulatory dither-shitting was also in full force; these are the Fuckwits that are walking ahead of me and then reverse direction to come at me or slow my egress. Another variation is the Fuckwit that somehow "needs" to get in the way by putting on the excessive indecisive act.

And I suppose the first multi-type outing served their purposes well; a drop-off for alterations, donations for Value Village, unloading the glass bottles at the recycle center (someone on my ass there at the bin, and then followed me inside), and two shopping stops. The perps just love it when I drop off items, almost as much as shopping. In the latter case they have an extra incentive for their fuckery, as they have been consistently hounding my ass at every financial transaction I have made since they first went berserk/overt on 04-15-2002. The second outing was to retrieve (and pay) for my alterations, and then back to Value Village to get rid of the rickety drying rack that had been pissing me off for at least four years.

And the aircraft coverage was extra too; a Bell 412 was doing a slow arc overhead and there was another helicopter not far away. That infernal single engine aircraft that keeps doing circuits overhead was also out. Ditto for similar aircraft coverage when I exited my residence for my second outing, plus added siren noise. The neighbor across the back lane was also good for more added noise to the noisescape by using his power tools to fit a trailer he is working on. From the perp perspective I suppose, if you got a homicide arranged (per above) and the victim is back at his place, why, of course the they would gangstalk the fuck out of me on my first day out after my return and a shut-in day. I must have a different post-surgery energy signature or something like that.

This week's coincidence meter has just "pegged out" IMHO; that is slang for the notion that the meter needle has exceeded the expectable maximum and hit the (R side) peg that physically stops it from registering higher. Why, I was staying at a place on Enterprise Way on April 15 in Kelowna, and lo, if the RCMP didn't pull a paramilitary training exercise on this same street today. And lo, if some of them weren't also called out for an incident on Spall Road which bisects Enterprise Way and is where I "happened" to spend some errand time there on Tuesday. This has been one strange week for coincidences and it is only Thursday.

I am getting more out and about now; even some weeding work. Still bruises from the surgery, and I am still feeling stiff.

A strange holiday in these here parts; Easter. Good Friday is a national holiday, Saturday isn't, Sunday sort of is, and Monday only if you are a government worker. Go figure. They even closed down my regular grocery store and the associated mall at 1700h, all for me to find out at 1800h. The usual perp trick; pull on the door to find it locked. Har, har; how many times have we done that one? About 10-15x/year since outrageous abuse-athon began in 04/2002. Not including the recent and "sudden" eruption of the assholes blanking me out when I get to my locked vehicle only to find that I cannot, of course, get in. Like WTF; I have been locking my vehicle doors for over 45 fucking years and "suddenly" I now forget this long established good habit. How utterly fucking insane that a multi-billion dollar per year budgeted abuse and harassment agency has now decided to degrade my long established habit of unlocking my vehicle door in advance of pulling on the door handle. Never has big (them) gone so dumb in the history human (if that) behavior. And you thought Pres. G W Bush's door pulling impasse was a protocol slip.

And of course, the above context of organization size is assuming the PTB don't manufacture their own paper money or indulge in extra-conventional methods to alchemically (via energetic control) create gold from inexpensive metals, both of which they are quite capable of IMHO. Funny how the chemistry history literature likes to beat up on alchemists of old times. I get it; we presently advanced humans with chemical engineering capabilities are not allowed to go there, even if fungi can detoxify poisonous metals, (a research paper, and a Google Search revealing many other sources) and even if we got chemistry all wrong in terms of its theoretical basis (Miles Mathis' work; conventional chemistry is profundly wrong;- electron orbits as a start).

Anyhow, the pollens of late are whacking the shit out of me, like never before. Yet again, I am going to assume its the PTB that yet again, need another excuse to disrupt what I am doing at the time.

Enough said for the week, and hopefully neighborly disputes can be resolved more civilly. Or was the above multiple homicide a stitch-up like so many are? Who knows.

Sunday, April 14, 2019

Bank Draft

I go to the bank to get two bank drafts, and while I couldn't say there was any particular gangstalking silliness inside while at the wicket, the Fuckwits were ready for me before and afterwards. Twice I attempted to get to the parking lot next to the bank building but no, each time it was full. So... I park at the civic lot some 30m away and down the alley and walk to the bank. The person next to me at the wicket in brown and red (both high preference gangstalking colors) just "happened" to be there all the time I was. Bank drafts take a while to do, but it just so happened that this person next to me had an equal (longer actually) engagement time with her bank teller too. When all done, I exit the bank and head back to my vehicle, down the lane. Lo, if the banking parking lot wasn't empty now, and there certainly wasn't enough customers transiting out to drive all the parked vehicles away. Anyhow, I enter the lane, and lo, if a vehicle some 30m away doesn't pull away from the curb and drive toward me (headlights on of course, aka pitlamping) and past me. Then another, which was parked behind it, some 20 seconds later. Then another, pulling away from behind the second vehicle, with about the same timing. Like WTF; this is a back alley and here it is busier than I have ever known, and with these three vehicles lined up and leaving one after another. I get to my vehicle, enter the lane, and lo, if they aren't there, backed up in front of me because of a L turning vehicle waiting for a whole lot of uncharacteristic crossing traffic.

And what is so important about obtaining a bank draft, a rare form of financial instrument for me, as I don't usually deal in these? Given that the perps have routinely stalked my ass for nearly 17 years over every financial transaction I have ever made, from debit cards, vending machine, paying bus fare, mailing checks and the rest of the more pedantic cashier transactions, why am I so surprised? The last time I got a bank transfer was about four years ago when I got one to send by mail to and outfit in Ontario to purchase a particular kitchen knife I wanted and the business didn't do online sales. Then, they put on this disgusting and very large British man as the bank teller, never seen before or since, who in his particular accent, was difficult to understand, and for whom I required him to repeat some of his instructions. (Curiously though, as I can normally interpret UK accents fairly well). As I recall, they plugged the bank with all manner of Fuckwits ahead and behind me. A colossal gangstalking event over getting a bank draft for crissakes. So here we are again; another  gangstalking shit show over a rarely used (in my case) form of currency. And just what is that all about, and why have financial transactions been such an insane focus of perp fuckery these last 17 years?

A drive to the big city of Kelowna to visit the doctors office for the planned procedure. As it turns out, by dint of a fuck-up not of my making, that the planned the date of the procedure is April 15, a Monday. I wanted it to be early May owing to timing of my work commitments, that is, vineyard work. But somehow, due to some lame excuse of the office assistant on the phone in January, it became April because she didn't have access to May at that time. And "somehow" I missed the significance of April 15 then.

And April 15 is a "special" day in abusive infamy as far as I am personally concerned, as it makes it the 17th anniversary of this fucking hell onset, the day the perps went berserk-overt on me. And no less, that fateful date of the abuse-athon onset was a Monday too. Said procedure involves a general anesthetic, so who knows what that could invite from the Psychopathic Fuckery Corps, because I am wide open to any and all their fuckery and capabilities. Like say, total memory depletion and insertion of a whole new "experience" set and personality and not have a clue. They learned a lot from stalking and hounding my ass these past 17 years, and it is quite clear they were hacking my recall in 2006 with relative ease. About in 2005 they could fuck with my perception of what normal was, so who knows where this one could go. But I am quite sure that they won't pull anything spectacular like they did 17 years ago in my apartment. Besides, I am sure there has been a few Monday, April 15 in between and nothing spectacular occured.

I has five other stops planned in Kelowna, and "somehow" only got to two ones that were unplanned. And it didn't help that the folks that were to cut my lengths of corian to a narrower width didn't get back to me in time for me to get that done. And too, "forgot" my list of other stops and items to get at each store. I remembered some, got turned around, and missed others. A shit show as far as getting my planned errands done. And there is only one outfit that has a unrelenting track record in thwarting my intentions, and it is the same assholes who run this non-stop abuse-athon, with me as the Prime Victim. (They would call me a subject, but since I didn't ask to be in this insane experiment, I view this all as an continuous assault).

I went to a tool shop while in Kelowna, two in fact. In both cases the stalkers were all over my ass and I had to get out before I planned. As mentioned in blog postings over the past few months, the Psychopathic Confederacy has a need to hound my ass over tools, tool use, and tool use switching. A theme of theirs that I was unaware of until 2019. Just to think that all the time on the four month construction job, 08 to 12-2018, I used other's tools, my own, substituted some for others, had some stolen etc. Who knew a construction site was perp heaven for another of their fuckery schemes? I had formerly thought it was just that they were interested in measuring, but no, tool use too.

I feel a little out of it these days; ostensibly it is a reaction from eliminating milk chocolate, my long running staple for decades, and of considerable "need" in the dopamine deficiency years, when the Psychopaths struck (above date) and arranged the full-on clinical criminality for me to be without my very helpful ADD medications. Only in 2018 did I get re-started after the radiotherapy for prostate cancer slowly kicked the shit out of me, and I have been much better since, save this past week. Again, laying the blame on the withdrawal symptoms, of the dairy products in milk chocolate, the only dairy products I have regularly ingested for some 8 years.

Getting 400- 600 reads a day for this blog this past week, suddenly up from under 100 per day. Too early to be a trend, but it bears watching instead of immediately consigning it to a data glitch. Surely the interest in TI's hasn't gone four fold or better suddenly has it?

My attempts at file synchronizing from the main PC to a handheld digital music player with Sync Toy. Why does this end up being a consecrated hassle all the time? The Psychopaths derive no end of harassment mileage over the same file "somehow" becoming different when it is copied elsewhere. That they fucked Sync Toy into synchronizing (files always the same in both locations) when it was set up to echo (master-slave) cost me no end of grief to find out the portable audio player was getting new files that I thought were purged.  Now the file pair association had to be re-written and "somehow" it isn't working when all seems just right. WTF? But the internet scuttlebutt is that Snyc Toy is a POS, and so I attempted to use robocopy in the command line. That is short for "robust copy", but it too failed for no seeming reason and so I restarted it from where it left off and it finished normally. And I am hardly done, only artists A to C, and that was a 40 minutes of run time. Well done MS; one of the most fundamental personal data needs nowadays and you still cannot get it together. Pathetic, or else willfully pathetic.

L shoulder ache; started on a Wednesday, so I cannot legitimately blame it on yoga, which was Monday. As it was, yoga was more lame assed with the substitute instructor anyhow. The shoulder pain was as if I was over-using my L arm in the night for throwing baseball pitches, as if there was a night time hardball practice. All the more curious that I am R handed, and as far as I know there were no night time events of any kind, unconventional or conventional. Other recent aches of no known source have been in my L foot, as if it was torqued. This latter ailment has gone on for four weeks now with some minor swelling. I have been wearing the most stiffest boots possible these past 8 weeks, mountaineering boots, needed for the snowy conditions in the vineyard. Even while wearing them, the assholes wrenched my L ankle over a couple of times to aggravate the pain that they had already introduced by this mysterious means. Though with the mountaineering boots they really couldn't pull any major ankle wrenching. As to what all this is about I don't know, but foot wrenching and consequent pain has been a long running perp fuckery theme. In this case, the pain came before the foot wrenching, though as mentioned, they didn't (or couldn't) make this a reasonable rationale as to why the ankle pain is there, or why it has gone on for so long.

Yoga was its usual weirdness in terms of who goes, and why. Some 90% new faces every Monday class, the same one at the same time and day of week. (That is, it is a TI "Victim Tour" as I see it). Last week they put this young blonde woman in the line of sight between me and the blonde instructor. This seeming particularly planted woman, coming in at the last second in the usual perp fashion of their proximate planted gangstalkers at yoga, (and all the others "somehow" leaving an obvious space in advance), made sure to place herself in my line of sight, even if I was at the front. (She had plenty of room to move back and/or further away, but didn't). Well done, one larger (with minor flab) blonde in front of the slight and trim blonde instructor. No tattoos on the planted blonde though, often the "usual" excuse to place their stalkers in my line of sight to the instructor.

This week, the bent over dude, a newcomer last week, and a hopeless yogi, took my usual mat spot in the class, and so I went to the back of the practice room. And at the last minute, why, they put on a shirtless and bald headed dude to be my in-line-of sight stalker. A far more disgusting sight than a young blonde woman for sure, and all the more ridiculous that he didn't seem to know much about yoga. And why these shirtless dudes in yoga? I had never seen this phenomenon until a couple of years ago, and now it suddenly has become trendy. Like WTF; put your shirt on at yoga dudes, and sweat it out.

At least I had more attractive woman close to my mat to divert my attention; not blonde, and not tattoo-ed either.

The last two weeks of vineyard work have been tying down canes to the fruiting wire, and also nattering to my colleague, a pleasant young blonde woman I had met a few years before. All quite different to have a non-stop natterer next to me, but we do have some common interests. And she has an interest in the unconventional and esoteric, and has given me reason to re-read "The Many Worlds of Hugh Everett" and his fundamental quantum wave theory. She also mentioned something to the effect that this theory, or more accurately, the many dimensions theory, has an component of multiplicity relating to the combinations of things (or repeatable events), which is consistent with the Psychopaths needing to screw me around so to ensure that all systematic actions get sabotaged in some way so that they do go out of order. In other words, fitting with their insane ongoing Fuckover show so that I cannot be allowed to do anything consistenly and/or efficiently. The constant need of the perps to sabotage every fucking thing going, and not permitting consistency. To which I say, I don't care, leave me the fuck out of it, and the fuck alone. I have been abused enough at their hands for multiple lifetimes and I don't need another one as I will have no guarantee it will be any better than this one, given their malevolent agenda and the fact that they stick to me like a Tar-baby From Hell.

The terse native Indian vineyard manager has given his notice and so it will be interesting to see how all of this unfolds. In the "usual" curiousness of my employers, they didn't ask me to step up to the management job even if I have the same qualifications, and even more experience. The aforementioned blonde woman knows the employers better, having worked with them before, so I can assume there will be some kind of shuffle going down. I gave up on getting a promotion in the vineyard business last year, when two jobs some three months apart, both seemingly crafted from my experience, with minimal qualification requirements, ("must have vineyard experience"), both turned out to be obvious resume bait stunts.

Anyhow, I am off to Kelowna tonight, surgery tomorrow, so wish me well. Surgery seems to be the 2019 trend for TI's.