Bank Draft

04-01-2019
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?

04-03-2019
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?

04-04-2019
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.

04-12-2019
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.

04-14-2019
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.