TI World

Buddist Merit Dedication

2012-01-23T20:24:00.000-08:00

01-17-2012
2010h
One of my farmworker colleagues, a woman who has criss-crossed my path by working for former employers of mine, or is mirroring me in terms of significant activities like attending horticulture class, (viticulture in my case), sent me an email after her visit to a Buddist dharma festival, I "dedicate any merit I have accumulated by attending this festival to your permanent happiness". Like WTF; anyone who even looks at me, let alone interacts me in any significant way has been approved, scripted, rehearsed and trained, so with her near two year long association, I am supposed to believe this is genuine? Then she phoned tonight to interupt my studying just when I got started, and as part of the conversation I say that I don't have any control in what happens to me, and she says "no one does". And of course the perps made me dithered to react to this, as it speaks volumes; that she believes in the prison planet world of total control of all beings (not even I have ventured that far), and of course, how does she know anyhow? Neither question was asked of course.She has never discussed her conspiracist leanings to me, and I would be the one person who she could relate to on this topic. Ergo, she gets her information from someone else.

She is also on record as of two weeks ago, saying that I will be working with Mexicans this summer, and when I asked how did she know, she just blew me off with a vapid generalization. There is a good chance of course, now that I am in the farmworker class, and attempting to improve my lot by taking a viticulture course at present. So..., with our mutual path crossing over the past year, and the constancy of a particular notorious someone in the past 12 years, I am coming to think the farmworker colleague just maybe this person in morphover form. When the perps put someone on me for two years or more, and plan parallel activities all the while, as well as working together on one farm, and she working at the daffodil farm that I have worked at, it is beginning to seem mighty curious.

01-18-2012
Got my first mail at my new address, as unbeknownst to me they were accumulating at the office since I moved here Jan.05. Of four items, three were invoked "problems". UPS wanted to nail me for an amount equal to what I paid them when I picked the parcel four weeks ago. "Somehow", their finnancial system tried to bill be again, when there was no way whatsoever to pick up the parcel without me paying taxes and duties. Go figure. Then a bill from the electrical company, saying that I didn't pay the last bill when I did, as per the bank's financial records. Then the ISP+phone company has the most balled up bill, billing me for things I never ordered when I shut down the account for Jan.04, 2012. But at least they got my address correctly to send this outrageously wrong bill to me. At the time I was told I was going to recieve a check when instead, I get a bill. It would be another 40 minutes on the phone to sort this one out, now that they have reduced their service level, per last phone call. Which wasn't much better than the dude circus that erupted in their offices, 15 of them ahead of me within the first two minutes of them opening their doors.

And why does this admininstrative sabotage happen to me, and what purpose does it serve? I have no idea as the the latter, but when the harassment first started I had to attend to my bills when I got jerked into hospital for no reason in 04-2002. I paid them all in one go, and lo, if the whole lot of them didn't somehow all get lost in the mail for four weeks. Once I found they weren't recieved, I sent off payments again, and they got through the second time. Like WTF; why does this insane juvenile abusive insanity keep being applied to me for something so strange; fucking my bill payments, with the recent move as an excuse to stir up yet more sabotage?

Last night, on the eve of our first quiz, done today, why, a local earthquake for crissakes. All us studying students were in the area, and for some reason the perps figured they needed to shake the ground.

01-19-2012
No earthquake on the eve of the second quiz this week, unlike two nights ago. It was a combination day; first an hour long quiz in the morning, and then a field trip to a winery afterward. In other words, dress for a very cold day outside, but first write this exam for an hour inside before heading out. In other words, long underwear with windproof pants on top, and a silk undershirt with a heavy-weight undershirt on top.

And lo, if the perps didn't make me almost late for class, and the instructor had everyone there arranged with a center table for me alone. This is normally the instructor's table that he works from, I was in his spot for the hour long quiz.

And it was pruning again, just a half hour in the perishing cold, and the perps have a big interest in me whenever I cut foliage or anything else for that matter. Stiil fresh from last week's use in pruing and my classmates buzzing all around.

There is one E. Indian dreadlocks freak in the class, and the perps are giving him extra gangstalking duties, doing the "come straight at me and then divert when within 3' of me". The odd thing was that he headed out from the tasting room in front of everyone, as if he was headed to the washroom, but then came back in within 30 seconds, which meant no genuine washroom visitation. So why does a sane individual leave a group activity (wine tasting), to exit the room for 30 seconds so to set himself up to come straight at me on his return? All to give me extra freak time, as he is quite a collection of Unfavoreds in one person. And at least three redcoats took turns to course around me as we visited the winery, and tasting room with a bright yellowjacket in their too.

01-21-2012
I got to wear my Yaks-Trax for the first time. And amazingly, they didn't pop off or present any problem for the 15 minute walk to the campus. In fact, they worked well in the packed snow and ice on some sidewalks. This would be the very first time in nearly ten years that something new that I would be unfamiliar with, apart from clothing and footwear, didn't fuck up. Truly an epic moment for this victim where even turning on a light switch gets sabotaged.

The bathroom stopper "grew" in the night and didn't fit this morning. Or else they downsized the drain in the sink, sometimes it is difficult to know what they are doing exactly. Hence, no shaving this morning, always a big deal for the perps. the extra time I had was taken up with extra yoga, and a protracted crap to follow. A sudden "need" came on and it just might of been this morning's breakfast. I have known them to put food through my system in less than an hour.

A tanning session this afternoon, replete with gangstalking vehicles covering me just before going into the moribund tanning salon. I had my shiftless males circulating while I waited. A different type of bed, so I shall see if I am burned tomorrow. A follow-on legs shave after that, the first shaving of the day, at dusk onset no less. The just-tanned (exposed actually) leg stubble ended up being shaved off within 20 minutes of being at the tanning salon, and I am sure that this was a very important shaving event for the perps, the first one of the day being my legs due to the sink stopper hassle they cooked up in the night.

And what is with the black gloves on student next to me? He also has an unerring knack of putting his head in my line of sight as I am looking at the projection screen; 20-30x/day is no fluke, so how does he know to move his head when he isn't looking in my direction?

Hmm.. past public data on this viticulture course indicates a 50-50 split between men and women, and here we have nine guys to one female. How does this statistical anomally erupt this year? And the dudes take turns to wear their toques in class, with the guy opposite going through a different ball cap almost every day; bright red, blue with same red piping, a muted burgundy red and so it goes.

The Unfavored freak (male, E. Indian, scraggly beard, dreads, bag hat/toque per above) likes to be gangstanking me out of class in the doorways; twice in two days at the library, and at least two more in the subsequent days

01-22-2012
1400h
Sunday tanning again, two days later to "catch up" from three weeks since the last time. back to admiring (per planted mindfuck) my bronzed and hairless legs. Who knew this was an harassment and abuse outcome? Not me.

A flush of yelling yobos and dude talk erupted just after my tea break, and when starting up the PC. It was the same after lunch, except not so loud. Also in the mix were room shakings "from" other motel doors, and the encirclement strut. This room is bounded on three sides by a walkway and then a stairwell to the first level, so that provides the assholes an ideal set up to send someone in loud boots to walk along, in front, then the S. side and to the stairwell with the addition of ringing iron handrail noise. And this room sits over top of the entry way, so vehicles are parked or passing through underneath, also a bonus for the harassment assholes.

Back to writing a paper.

2200h
I am sweating bullets to get this paper done, and what happens? I get phone calls, aka an EMF disturbance at one's ear through a piece of plastic, and how many times have I related stories about each of them? Countless times, and lo, if the form of a telephone reciever we have both together, at my ear, inches from my brain, the seem locus of the perp's nonconsensual human experimentation initiatives. Not to mention that I am being kept in a densified magnetic field, measured at 1600 Gauss back in 2008.

And for the fourth time today, after a tea or lunch break, and then resuming writing and reading for the assigned report, why, an eruption of male voices for 10 to 20 minutes, someone walking outside who then circumnavigates this room, and wall, floor and ceiling poundings (no rooms overhead) carefully timed at particular intervals, especially if I pick up a book or stop reading one. And how could this strange behavior of others be anything but organized, as if four times in one day timed for the same circumstances. Not to mention the usual litany of red and late-yellow traffic light running games at intersections, and the stopping into the crosswalk. Just daily events when in Victoria, and now it has erupted here too, since I came here two weeks ago.

01-23-2012
I got my assignment written last night, no thanks to the perps who were hammering me constantly with memory dithering, preventing me from finding my last location in the book after a momentary diversion to type something. I never, ever had any recall problems with re-finding my location in a book while writing/typing, and suddenly, I am totally abushed with this new level of remote influencing abuse. They weren't able to fuck with my short term recall until 2007, and I suppose the decided to give me a whack of it all at once. It was fucking insane, and it was 2330h, and I was getting dithered over this and constant keyboarding sabotage. A piss poor effort, no thanks to the assholes.

I had better get this posted, orit will be another week of letting it slide.

Dusk Onset Games

2012-01-16T19:33:00.000-08:00

01-11-2012
A photo for my library card was the last thing today at the college, and a cute babe was on the camera, showing off plenty of cleavage with a low cut top, seeming in keeping with the perps' need to have me view such about 3x to 5x/week. The day before, the Ford dealership cashier had a decided low cut blouse.

And after the photo, they pulled the plasma in my face stunt, as if it was a retina burn from the flash, which it wasn't, being an old pro at this kind of fuckery. This gave them the excuse to have the rectangular shape follow me outside as well, going past the red and yellow dressed pair pausing at the doorway when exiting the building. And lo, if they didn't play this up all the more by giving me a
shit sensation in my ass for the walk home. Nothing was there as it "happened". This was dusk onset, as it is earlier as one is more east in a given time zone.

I went out to get stationary items, then LD and lo, if they didn't put on the second negro (woman this time) in two days exiting the mall as I entered. When I got back to the motel where I reside there was a dude standing next to my vehicle, and the one beside it. He was at the driver's door, making out that he was a passenger in the other vehicle and was waiting for someone. And lo, if he doesn't turn his head on cue to reveal his ridiculous ponytail. And what is about the perps that they have to hound me for over 10 years with this ridiculous hairdo.And why do they need to catch me at certain locations with these visages of the Unfavored Freaks making themselves extra obvious.

01-12-2012
1645h
The frequency of handwriting and keystroke errors has doubled since I moved to this town, and is all the more noticeable as I am taking notes in my Viticulture classes and the assholes won't let me write more than a two syllable word/phrase without forcing a handwriting errors.

And after speaking with the one good looking woman in the class at lunchtime in the cafeteria, why, an army dressed dude in camo, floppy camo hat and sunblasses (inside) arrives as we were in the foyer and exiting the building. He didn't look like a student even, just some fugly military wacko. Back to fugly Unfavoreds on the heels of being in the proximity of a Favored. She is married and I have no interest in bringing anyone into this pit of fucking hell.

An obstruction holdup at the LD checkout, and a redcoat gangstalker arrived behind me with the major obese woman cashier woman doing lots of talking to the granny woman in front of me. And then the redcoat woman did bend-overs, seeming looking for something on the floor. And have I mentioned how many times the gangstalkers have done their public bendovers, because taking yoga classes wasn't enough? Many hundreds of times.

01-13-2012
A Field Trip to two wineries near Summerland, 15 min. up the Hwy 97. And what is it that the class members have taken to wearing red coats, red shoes, red shoelaces and course around me, and taking turns doing so? An extra babe added into the class, the girlfriend of the E. Indian freak with partial dreads and a bag hat to contain whatever else is on his head.

Other strangeness on the Field Trip was on apparent visitor with three blonde women, as if they were wine buying customers, and they joined the fray as well. First they strangely hung around outside for 10 minutes when it was -8C degrees outside, and the proprietor had gone outside to ask them in. But now, they engaged in this perverseness that only the perps could answer for, putting on Favoreds (blonde women) with an accompanying dude (Unfavored).

And again, on the Field Trip, we went outside to do vine pruning, and my just-sharpened pruners weren't cutting much at all. I cannot count the many times the perps have gone into beserkness when I cut foliage, and how the blade has been sharpened. It was a diamond file that seems to have out. It was a gather-round-me while using my Felco pruners which had been fastidiously sharpened with a prematurely worn diamond file two nights ago. It was on a belt around my waist, so no doubt that too was a big deal too, arranging black colored fabric around me as they like to test me with straps, seatbelts and the like.

Just as I returned to the parking lot, and with the headlights still on, why, a negro woman walks in front of the vehicle, strutting the dreads again, my daily negro gangstalking just when I thought I was going to have a negro-free day.

01-15-2012
Back from a weekend visit to the out-of-town brother, sister-in-law and niece. For a while, despite masers and plasmic sightings, I was relatively free of extra-conventional fuckery of things going constantly wrong. Some family pics to view this morning were interesting, as he accompanied my mother on a visit to Britain in the fall, and he had a number of photos that I hadn't seen.

And he invited me to join him in his swimming training that he is doing for an Ironman triathalon later this year. I haven't lap-swum for nine years, and experienced another never-before event, in that I did not suffer my usual fatigue when taking on aerobic activity unless sufficiently trained. I swam for 20 minutes straight without fatiguing which is most unusual, as it doesn't take more than 3 minutes for me to need a rest.

01-16-2012
Back to class today. It is colder, but not enough to discourage my 15 min. walk to the college. A major piss-off last night when I attended to my accounts in Quicken. Some $95 is missing from my wallet with no accounting for how it disappeared. The last entries I made was two days ago, so there should not of been any surprises. All this is due to the fact that my bank fees doubled, so now I take out more cash for smaller transactions. And lo, if this wasn't an opportunity for the Fuckwits and their materialization and telekinetic fuckery to steal money from my wallet. And they do like to mess with my wallet contents, put on extra gangstalkers when I get cash from the ATM (or spend it), and seem to have upped the ante now that they are having me use green $20 bills. Orange $50's and brown polymer (new) $100's to follow in the years to come. Woo-hoo, it has taken them close to ten years to advance their wallet contents research (on me), having me use the debit card most of the time. I can hardly wait; another ten fucking years of this insane relentless abuse before they will figure out $50 bills, and so it goes.

And I see in class, in the afternoon, the E. Indian with the bag hat, removed it to show off his head full of dreads. It took a week of inculcation with his almost fully covered head to be revealed, and I would prefer the bag hat over dreads anytime. And he was the recording person for our little break-out group, forcing me to look as his warm-up dreads that somehow escaped the bag-hat before the post lunch reveal of all his dreads.

Another piss-off was that my $20 phone card went missing, the assholes setting me up to call someone (as they didn't reply to my email) and then me "finding" that it was gone. Why didn't they jerk me around over a $10 card instead, as I only bought it a week ago, and hardly used it. I was infuriated over this, following the above wallet contents theft yesterday, but not loudly, as they make me tone it down.

No negro crossing my path today, as the perps were good for four in four consecutive days in this small town. Though, the perps did put on two turban acts to pass nearby, as I was again having lunch with the above mentioned good looking woman, and two others also.

I had better get this posted, as another week could slip by, given that I was wanting to publish a posting each day, and somehow it didn't "happen".

First Sighting

2012-01-10T19:27:00.000-08:00

1910h
I took my mother's vehicle to the Ford dealership to get it serviced, as it "happened" the service date came as I was in posession here in this fruit growing belt town. On the way back I stopped at the fresh food market, and lo, if there wasn't my first negro gangstalker doing the pretned-to-shop games, making sure he got his back-and-forths (once, each way) in the very location where I was to go to get kiwi fruit. And it just "so happened" I "forgot" to get it yesterday due the gangstalking pressure at a similar store across town.

Am not about to get out the demographic statistics tables yet, but one can be sure that this town isn't highly diversified, aka cosmopolitan. The E. Indians have moved into the orchard and wine growing businesses that were once the preserve of the Portugese immigrants in the 1950's and 1960's.

It is diesel truck evening here as I type this; one idling for over 3 minutes outside, and at least two earlier idlings, on for ten minutes while I was coming out of my forced nap after studying. The perps seem to find the post-study period most interesting, and force a nap to find out whatever neural energetic correlates there are. Just to think; they could do this is person and thereby expedite 10 years of this insane relentless abuse. But that isn't what is going to happen, even if they tell me it is.

And a male skinhead joined the class today, as it was about grape growing. Said individual somehow "needed" to place his jacket on the chair next to me, just like the co-workers at the forest nursery I worked at last month/ They too engaged in placing their coats, jackets or sweaters near me while they worked further away, as if making a guilty offering to this victim of targeted abuse. The also liked to place their gloves at my cling-wrap station which has a hot pad, even if there was a closer heated pad. I could never figure that out except for the express reason for delivering more of their clothing in closer proximity to me than them. The perps have extensively re-arranged my laundry activity, mostly at the First Feral Family house with that wretched stinky Sunlight deterget which I never buy. I have yet to do laundry here, but one can be sure there will be plenty of hijinx to go with it; e.g. stuck loads, foam out, unavailible dryers, burst water pipes and the list goes on.

A short blog tonight as the internet connection is so slow, and I must study tonight; quizzes in week!

First Day of Classes

2012-01-09T21:31:00.000-08:00

1715h
The first day of viticulture classes proved to memorable in keeping with the perps' insane and abusive agenda. There were three staff who could not/would not tell me where the "CE" building was and room A09. Eventually I "found it" when the instructor came out and indicated the course name. And of course this fuckery was supported by the college supplying a decent map and legend to decode the building names. And too, the building code was in no way derived from the building name as seen on the online map.

Then they plastered cow manure on my R. shoe so I had this farm smell wafting into my nose and I thought it might be from either of my adjacent seat mates, one of whom does work on a farm. But only after class, and after walking around in my room was I allowed to discover it was from my foot, even if I hadn't stepped in any on the all-sidewalk 15 min. walk to the college this morning. But that wasn't enough, as the cleaning-up paper towels were made to block the toilet, even if there wasn't many as I always prepared for that eventuality. So.. 10 min. of toilet plunging to top of this piece of insane fuckery.

2110h
Another nap this evening, a hour it seemed, but my usual habit of checking the time before I laid down was defeated.

And today, while attempting to take notes in class, the perps were messing up my spelling, and concentration much more than every. Obviously, the act of taking notes hasn't been fucked enough, so they do more of it.

And they got the freaks out in force when the class went to the library en mass. The long haired wino male was on show at the terminals we had to use, and I suppose the perps need to put a freak, and all varieties of freaks wherever I am to hang out. The college library will doubtless be re-visited to ensure more freak varieties, aka Unfavored demographic group specimens.

Then the wheelchair freak was doing nothing but waiting for me in the cafeteria where I was eating and chatting with classmates. I was last to leave, and lo, if the motorized wheelchair freak with a brown blanket draped over him didn't tail me out the door, and ensuring I had to hold it open because his minder went somewhere else.

I get the disgusted looks from the admin secretary for no reason; I politely asked about changing an address and she gave me the form to fill out with no instructions. Later, when I returned the form, but was running out of time in the line up, and I looked back to tell the person behind me that I was leaving, she had me lined up exactly when I stopped to turn around. Not even a glance or a blink is unscripted now.

The 16 classmates today were relatively normal; just one long hair rasta-like bag-hat/head, bearded too, probably E. Indian with the darker skin. He is a member of a biodynamic winery owning family, so I suppose it isn't so much an act as normal wear. The bag-hats, the ones that sit on the back of the head and are usually pinned to keep them in place seem to be getting more face time of late. The overextended rear head/cerebellum appearance has been a demographic group signature, a subset of the headwear demographic. I note that one older dude in the class is wearing the red ballcap, and lo, if he isn't nearly bald underneath when I saw him close. No doubt his skinheadedness will be revealed in a week or so.

Wine tasting in class this afternoon was a welcome part of the instruction. I suspect that my tasting and olafactory senses have either dynamically muted or else never developed, as wine appreciation, as much as I like wine and want to improve my critical and descriptive abilities, just doesn't get it. Tastes like a red/white wine is as good as I can get at times.

There were some masers and plasma beams in class today, though for the most part the perps seemed to have me spaced out, not anywhere near as grounded as I wanted to be. I suspect the extra-conventional magnetic phenomen activity will pick up over the week, and before long it will be like my apartment I have just vacated after nearly four years of residency.

And the carry bag became an issue as the perps sabotaged the other zipper on my ballistic nylon briefcase. The double zipper to the main compartment got reduced to one in 2010 when taking the Oracle classes, and now that I am back in class, why, they fucked the second zipper, making it uncloseable. On with the show, and I see they have me checking out messenger bags now. Perhaps they need me to change up the colors of a carry bag, similar to jacking up my banking fees and then forcing me to take more cash for their wallet-color content games.

Anyhow, this is all I am going to blog tonight, as I have homework and will have to do assignments, something I haven't done for over 20 years.

Shut In Again

2012-01-08T20:33:00.000-08:00

1435h
Another late (0930h) get up, even if I went to bed at midnight. Sleep durations are always manipulated to have me start the daily experiences/harassment just when they want. I am in "hold mode", as this is the last day before my viticulture classes start. You have that correct; 25 year forestry and IT experienced person is getting relegated to vineyard work, the bottom of the heap next to the pickers in the fall. Last year they had me applying to these same jobs to no avail, and no responses whatsoever, despite my 4 year long string of farm laboring work that I have also being cast into.

So far, no eviction level "responses" to the harassment; e.g. sending me to the wrong door or drawer in this new kitchen is just absolutely hilarious for the perps, as they haven't been able to do it so much as I knew where all my items were inside of the first day on my last move-in in May, 2007. But with this move-in of three days ago, they constantly send me to the wrong door or drawer, or else have me grab the pulls in the wrong way, another new mind-fuck experience. The management indicated "no noise" in their emails, so I am on tacit notice that an eviction may be arranged, as the perps so like to move their victims around to new locations. My perp abetting mother was also hinting at the "noise" topic prior to my departure, so obviously they know this is a sensitive topic and like to ride me about it.

My farm worker colleague phoned last night for about an hour, just as I was interested in a new cabinetry wood drill online. The perps like to catch me just as my interest is piqued in a new item. I was catching up on the many tools websites I hadn't visited for some six weeks when the forest nursery evening shift started up. And too, this PC was in the shop for a SSD (Crucial M4 256Gb) install, though the speed increase is nowhere near what I expected.

This particular farmworker woman has been circulating for two years now, also "happening" to have worked at the same places as I did. I helped her move in early December, and she does seem to be a "high coincidence" person, as I moved one month later to where I now reside in Penticton, BC. And I lent her my table from my apartment, and she gave me a cot as I had sold my bed. And many more interactions than that, those being the latest.

1901h
And it is indeed a shut-in day, the perps forcing a nap on me after being allowed to read the viticulture books I had recieved over a month ago.

2025h
Another round of tiredness has struck after viewing 60 Minutes on TV. The last story was about truffles and the incredible prices they are and the unsavory world that it attracts. Funny to see a woman in the field in a full length fur coat, but as she was the truffle farm owner, why, she can wear whatever she wants. And so after some sabotage in getting the remote TV control device to work, why, I settle on a film called "The Day of the Triffids". I get it, alliteration is a big deal for the perps to arrange, and all the more when they each refer to biological entities.

And too, someone pounding this room, as if it came from below, when there is no room underneath, just parked vehicles and the driveway span. Funny how that happens, room shaking, even in concrete and steel buildings with 12" thick floor/ceilings.

My internet access is highly variable I find, as I am picking up the motel's wireless feed, and that is always and excuse to force disconnections. In the wired modem days, they would have the router or modem going on the fritz as the apparent reason to drop the connection. Now, they do this at will, making out that it is the wireless section.

So onto going back to school tomorrow, and learning about viticulture from the laborer's perspective. It should be interesting and no doubt the Unfavored demographic groups will be represented among my classmates.

Old Stunts in a New Location

2012-01-07T23:14:00.000-08:00

1300h
Time to do a regular blog where I have all day to natter and drop comments as the abuse is unloaded over the day. The last 8 weeks were very much in blogable limbo with taking an evening time job, using my perp abetting mother's vehicle each day to commute, then awakening at at her place and then attending to packing and getting myself moved out from the Victoria apartment that I resided in for almost four years, a relative adult lifetime record in terms of perp containment of my residence location. Much of the minimum wage income was to support the new-found "need" to order clothing and footwear from SierraTradingPost, the big discount web site, once mail order. Although I didn't intend it, I see I ended up with some ski-wear, "thinking" it was for the colder climes of this new-to-me town of Penticton, BC, where I about to start a full time, three month long, viticulture laborer course in two days. There is a downhill and cross country ski area some 40 km away, so perhaps I will end up with a ski-pal this winter. Sliding at speed on plastic boards on a frozen water surface just has to be a total perp created scene to remotely detect the earth's energetics and whatever else they are doing to TI's, and likely too, a larger covertly covered/surveilled population.

And yes, all the familiar gangstalking trappings are here too; the citizens of Penticton have been duly groomed on how to keeps one's mouth hanging open, course (or obstruct) around me, attempt to pass me on my right side and otherwise look stupid in public, especially when wearing shorts (in this colder clime), a red coat, hat or shoes. The vehicular gangstalking is in evidence, but not so heavy yet, allowing me to make sudden lane changes as I go about discovering the routes in town. Yesterday was my first full day here, and I did grocery shopping in three stores and visited at least four more to get the missing items this motel room needed, a dishes drain mat and a plug for the bathroom sink. These are regular harassment items that seem to be of substantial portent to the perps, and have also been problematic in past moves.

In the 2006 move, they had me chuck out the dishes drain mat when the movers prematurely fucked off on me after I had told them to wait because there were more boxes to be retrieved. And lo, if they hadn't taken off, leaving me the impossible choice to walk these boxes some 6 blocks as I was vehicle-less by then. So..., some of the items were left behind, and lo, if the usually locked garbage room door wasn't open, so I could chuck the heavy and awkward items into the dumpster, one of which was the dishes drain mat. And lo, if I didn't have a replacement purchased some month's previously, in some kind of imposed mindfuck fuge, noticed only post purchase of course. About six months ago at the Victoria Chelsea apartment location, the white nonporous dishes drain mat got too red colored, ostensibly from unremovable and over-active algae, that I replaced it with a translucent dishes drain mat. This one somehow remained algae impervious, and had a slightly steeper slope to it, but it was left behind in the packing, "thinking" that there would be one in the kitchenette of this motel unit. Alas, there wasn't, and the management hasn't been answering my phone calls, so it was more expeditious to purchase a cheap one from the dollar store. And so, a blue plastic dishes drain mate now, with a hump in the middle of it for crissakes, all to create water drainage ponding at each end of it. And I see it has a missing corner on it, an telekinetic eruption since I purchased it. And somehow I "forgot" all the past travails of the dishes drain mats of past locations and purchased this particular bright blue one. And one has to ask what is so important to the perps about dishes drain mats that they put me through this utter nonsense so often, but I cannot offer a definitive answer, except to note that they are totally beserk over the colors and materials of everything I see, touch, or is proximate.

Then there is the continuing hassle over drain plugs, a soft white rubber kind that I had to procure for the last apartment, somehow getting the size wrong and to go through the process twice in two days. Said white colored plug turned orangish in a few months, and stayed that way for the remaining near-four years. The new drain plug in the bathroom sink I aquired yesterday seems to work, and hasn't "gone wrong" (read, sabotage) yet. The absence of a plug forced me into a disrupted shaving situation, running the water each time I applied the soaked face cloth to a new region in advance of shaving it. Only face and a frontal shave were done, the arms were not, an exception to this new "habit" started some six months ago. The last month has been one of shaving disruption, awakening at the FFF house and then going to my downtown apartment to shave there, in advance of undertaking packing duties. Needless to say, shaving has been a significant perp interest since they started the overt abuse in 04-2002, and no end of combinations and permutations of this normally daily occurence has been sufficient for them to back off on the stunts and games that attend shaving. l

Today was shaping up to be a shut-in day, but they did let me out just as a snowfall was coming on to visit the local greengrocer store and see if it make the grade in being considered for a regular visitation basis. No, it didn't, even if the gangstalking was removed. One blonde woman was on my ass for five reprise gangstalkings and they even put her doppelganger in the parking lot as I exited; same long black puffy down coat, same height and comportment as the one in the store whom I left behind. Simply stunning as to the lengths the assholes will go to.

Some perp planned unique arrangements in this motel unit that I am residing in; no one over top of me to make noise from above, a rare break in the action. But I notice that the downstairs wall sharing apartment dwellers have a knack for slamming their door to create a vibration that travels upwards to my feet while doing my morning time bathroom routine. The most unusual configuration of this motel unit is that it sits above a parking area directly below, and where vehicles can pass underneath. That my mother's vehicle sits below me under this floor as I type this is certainly par for the perps and their all-possible juxtaposition games, and it might save them running a vehicle into a building somewhere on their shitlist of human abuse games they seem to apply regularly.

And yesterday's hassle of attempting to get connected via the "free" (read, surveilled) wi-fi internet in this motel is still playing out. I had to make three trips to the LD store in town, the last in the evening to get a wi-fi adaptor as they screwed me into "thinking" that a wi-fi router was the needed item. A call to Netgear, after some inquisition on my part, determined that I had the wrong device altogether. I got the router from Newegg, and today when considering a return, why, the RMA process links have been removed from my web page, so I cannot return it. As it was a $80 purchase, I am roundly pissed that the assholes put me through the inanity of getting the wrong device, supported with incorrect graphics and product descriptions, and now are obstructing me in attempting to get it returned.

And I see a little local "activity" in the form of an accident, and timed the same of me driving to this new town, though S. of my route by 30 miles or so. Why, a boulder came down a cliff and smacked the vehicle, narrowly missing the occupants. Yep, more coincidences, in the form of rocks-human interaction, this time in the thought-to-be safe world of a moving vehicle. And surely the murder rate will also increase too, another form of getting localized blood samples in combination with the ground they once walked on.

2250h
Back to harassment reality; an attempt to watch the hockey game on TV tonight turned into a farce with outside loud mufflered vehicle noise ramping up to cause me to plug my ears. And we aren't talking about vehicles passing by, but ones that persist for five minutes straight, keeping the noisescape on for far longer than ever before. Same noise though, this town having muffler noise compatibility with the last town. Funny how muffler noise can erupt province wide, and too, coincidently erupt as I type this. Regular readers will know that there are no coincidences, along with readers of Dr. John C Lily and his determination of the Earth Coincidence Control Office. I still don't have a handle on just what it is that the perps are on about with coincidence orchestration.

And just like before, I get plenty of plasma and maser flashes, as in all the time, not even a second passes without extra conventional visual perturbations. In the last 6 weeks or so, the most unusual maser eruption was when doing the job orientation for the forest seedling nursery job, and after reading the supplied material, the boss addressed us, and worked through the items, and he seemingly "forgot" what the break times were, (6:30 and 9:30), and he said it was 9:00 and I knew this to be incorrect having read the document As this realization came on, why, a black 1/2" fuzzy maser ball came in from outside, through the insulated translucent plastic wall, just past the back of his head and then came towards me. As there were over 30 people assembled, one would think someone would mention it, or point at the maser ball as it took three seconds or so on its 50' path, but no.

And in keeping with the business owner gangstalking, on this same orientation shift the owner of the business came to "help", in his black ski-wear of all things, and I saw him only once more there after (six weeks of M-F work).

2300h
An hour long phone call with one of my former farm worker colleagues tonight, she phoning me and complaining about her Mexican farm-worker pal bailing out on her, and not staying the night. Hmm, I don't think I am the right person to help her out, but all I know is that if someone is going strange on me I don't want them around any more. I wonder why the perps want me to be put through this, having someone go wierd on me for no seeming rational cause.

Back in the pre-overt harassment days of 1999 to 2002, Ms. C would pull these stunts, drama shows I called them, and had me bailing out on her; emotionally at least, and physically too if the arranged (in hindsight) conflict got too heated. We had our rows to be sure, and for the two or three seeming friends who managed to get me to tell them these tales, they each seemed to have a knowing smirk as I recounted her drama stunts. I couldn't figure that one out, though I did not have any idea then that this was all arranged and also these elicitations of me telling the story.

Anyhow, it is late, and I am going to call this one done for today.

Adroit Timing

2011-12-27T21:51:00.000-08:00

I changed my Amazon account information about three days ago; new physical address and new email. I had an outstanding item on order which I had "forgotten" (read, mind-fuck as I don't usually forget these kind of contingenies). So what happens? Amazon tells me today that they have shipped the item, sending to my new email address, otherwise I would not of known, as the old one got hacked so bad I had to terminate the account. BUT, they shipped it to my old physical address when this was updated at the same time, to that of Penticton, BC. Like WTF; how did they do this, take an up-to-date email address and match it to the old address when both were updated at the same time?

And too, this would of been no big deal as the parcel would of been re-directed by the Post Office like Amazon usually does, as I filled out a re-direction form and paid them to put it into their system. But no, they sent this by UPS, just to make things more awkward. UPS has this little ritual where they must make the first delivery attempt and then supply the little brown and yellow tag with a phone number on it. Only then can one phone and have them hold it for pick up instead of making more delivery attempts. I will be out of town by Jan. 05, so it would seem that Amazon purposely chose this delivery to be as inconvenient at possible; right in the middle of a move to another town, a 10 hour drive away with a carrier that has the most awkward means of changing the delivery method.

And furthermore, Amazon had some kind of rare powers as they claim they billed my credit card, but lo, if my credit card wasn't suspended for some strange reason, some four days ago, and I have to investigate it to find out what the problem is.

So it would seem that someone chose this item's delivery to be a major pain in the ass, and made sure they picked the most problematic options availible. This is one example of how the perp like to jerk with one.

Earlier today, the perps pulled a rain storm for when I was moving boxes out of my apartment with my in-town brother. All of them were rain splattered, so I put them in the First Feral Family house without stacking them so they could get dry. More freaking hassle.

This is likely to be my last posting for a week or so until I get relocated to Penticton and start my viticulture laborer certificate course. This PC will be taken apart and won't be set up until Jan. 06, 2012 or so. There is the FFF house computer, so I will be able to monitor my email. Needless to say, December has been a highly distracted month, with working full time, a house move/re-location organized (almost), and then the email hacking hassle which resulted in terminating my email address that I had for the past 10 years. Maybe it was Yahoo who supplied the password to the hackers so they could get rid of long time email users, 3550 messages in my case. Or maybe it was the perps doing their harassment escalation thing, piling on more hassle, like the Amazon/UPS shenanigans mentioned above.

Onto another city and to ponder what is my harassment fate at Okanagan College in Penticton, BC.

Brief Update + NEWema*laddres

2011-12-24T14:22:00.000-08:00

12-24-2010
A very short update now that the job has ended. And recently, someone chose to hack my ema*l address enough so I had to close the account. That means a change to the physical and ema*l addresses in one month, as I will be moving out soon (by month's end). My new ema*l addres isjhughes964ATyahooDOTca.The capitalization means to substitute the symbols. Pardon the run-on words, but anything to not get my ema*l hacked again. Which meant, that messages went out under my ema*l but were not from me (not in my Sent box). Someone sending Viagra ads to my 21 y.o. daughter was the last straw. Even the Yahooaccount termination page got hacked, and I couldn't terminate the account for an extra week, just so the assholes could persist in their insane games.

More news later, maybe in a week or two, as everything is so up in the air; house moving to a new city, ema*l address changes, living in at the FIrst Feral Family house and this entire Xmas and New Years nonsense. Pardon the cynicism, but after getting gangstalked with so many red vehicles and red dressed ambulatory gangstalkers, I now get it; it is all about the colors.

Cue Noise, then have victim find out his document wasn't saved

2011-12-04T13:05:00.000-08:00

12-04-2011, 1045h
That was last night, when 1.5 hours worth of tweaking an email about my SDD upgrade was saved in Yahoo, and when I went back to the Saved as Drafts, why, only part of it was there, the rest didn't save. And my annoyance was extreme as I have had this done to me before, but what was unusual was the pre-harassment noise run up, the fake water in pipes noise from the vacant N. neighbor wall, and to then catch me when I discovered the jerkaround and when screaming infuriated by it.

A very restless night as the first time on the black cot with a white sheet under me and a blue duvet cover on top. And of course the sheets move on me, somehow slipping sideways in the night, even if there was an extra 12" of hanging sheet either side. It was like sleeping on a board, the fabric was so stiff and taut, even if the perp abetting donor claimed they slept on it comfortably for months.

And as I am working for this month at a forest tre nursery, the blog frequency will be down to once a week again, much like the last working spell on the farm.

And what a week it has been, starting the job and going flat-out for 8 hours and finishing at midnight, then sleeping in to 1100h some days, depending on the disruption regimen. That is to say, it has been a week of maximum disruptions and jerkarounds, both on the job and all times. Even more negro gangstalking activity with the one negro woman I met while doing farmwork in 2008, "happening' to be there, and then "happening" to loose her ride, so me "happening" to give her a ride home for three days this past week. But someone else is going to give her a ride for the rest of the work session.

And a crew of 35 or so is putting plug stock seedlings into boxes, first after grading them on the conveyor, stacking them in neat pyramids of 10 (row of 4, then 3, 2, 1) which are conveyed to the wrapping person, having a 6" diameter of shrink wrap some 8" wide, and rolling the stacked bunch of trees together and then putting them on a turntable to then have them packed into boxes by another person. There are box making jobs as well, and we rotate stations every 1.5 hours or so. All manner of perp abetting setups there of course; heated pads and bar to press or cut the shrink wrap, the tree seedlings themselves of course, the 8' diamter 20rpm turntable 6" behind my butt when wrapping, the brown boxes with lighter brown inserted bags to contain moisture, the soil spillings down my front and on it goes.

The crew is a motley assortment of native Indians, one aforementioned negro woman and a few Asians and a half dozen Caucasians in the mix. I am given the social leper treatment for no apparent reason, nothing unusual about that given the current train of abuse that is so consistent as it is relentless. Though, every so often one breaks the mold and becomes friendly for a while, the negro woman being the first. Though she was avoidant for a day, then chatty to then be bitchy for no reason, especially when she should of been in supplication mode for a ride back into downtown at the midnight shift end . I get the usual pattern of sudden dead-stop conversations, where it seems they want to get me to a certain point and then they cease, even in a three-way conversation. I also get plenty of the stand-next-to-me-for-absolutely-no-reason stalkings, not to mention even more curious back-and-forths where a Fuckwit co-worker goes past for no seeming reason, putzes on something way outside their station, and then comes back. There is the tell-me-half-the-job-but-let-me-find-out-the-rest-while-on-the-job games, coming from the forewoman, business manager and those who should know better. Why they do this I have no idea. Then on the first full shift on Monday, the business owner gangstalking, the German man in his 60's in his black ski pants was back-and-forthing, putzing around and even giving me some helpful training tips on wrapping the seedling bundles. Then he hasn't come back, in keeping with another gangstalking flavor, having the business owner come out for a victim tour. Some of the big fat native Indian males have taken to pounding the conveyor belt in some kind of drumming fashion, obviously arranged so that they aren't busy while I am. The walk-straight-at-me games are also scripted, as are the hoodie-hang-abouts in the dark at the garage door entrances. I go to the lunch room to keep warm, but at least half the crew strangely stands around for their two half hour breaks we have in out eight hour shifts.

Other Unfavored freak demographics have been the large gutted males, overweight native Indians, a Caucasian skinhead, the army combat fatigues, male ponytails, redcoats and red hoodies, and a few others. And only one Favored demographic person, a 30-ish female on the permanent staff in jet black hair to her shoulders, looking very trim even if also wearing combat fatigues colored pants, and being as dishy as a freckle faced woman can be. She likes, or more like, is assigned to loiter around me sometimes for seeming unneeded reasons, and also is arranged to be in my line of view more often than would be expectable. Not to mention cruising in close behind me at the end of the conveyor, and artfully being exactly in the way at the exact moment I turned to place three bunches of seedling onto the turntable. All to get in close, and then surprise me for whatever reason the perps have.

Other games this week have been to have me do a first-time ever back to back legs shave followed by a face and torso shave. The perps have always had me do these separately, the legs shave being once per week in the late evening with a Wilkinson triple razor, and the face and torso together each day with the Gillette twin razor. But as I am effectively staying at my perp-abetting mother's as part of the evening time vehicle borrowing arrangement, I don't do a full torso shave when there. If I get up early, I will get the bus and do a full torso shave at my place. All manner of combinations of shave areas, razor blade selection and location of shaving are being exercised by the perps, along with now using a long-stored razor handle. It is all too exciting for them, these arrangements to have me shave in differing combinations, permutations and locations and differing shaving foam. That I sold my bed to facilitate moving also added to this week's games, as the above mentioned sleeping arrangements have also added to the disruption games. Regular readers will know that the perps put no end of effort to mess with my bedding, its colors, its laundering and whatever residual color/energy effects they seem to be looking for by remote means.

And more hacking of my email account, even after I changed my password which is rated as "strong". the Gmail anti-spam thing continues as the reason/obstruction in attempting to create a new account, and switching to Yahoo dot ca is also fraught with uncertainty. No one is making it easy, that is for sure.

1300h
More clunking from overhead while eating lunch. This clunking started up here about 6 months ago, and is identical to the garbage chute noises of the place I had, 2006 to 2007. This apartment is well away from the garbage chute noieses of this building, and I haven't heard anything in the prior 3.5 years. All of a sudden the noise starts up as if it were from the long ago building. I am going to call this blog done for the week, and will attempt another then. though I will be driving to Penticton to look at accomodation.

Slack Saturday

2011-11-26T23:00:00.000-08:00

1715h
Another high-intention low effort outcome day, predictably on a Saturday like last week. I wonder if the perps plant for most everyone else to be busy, but keeping me concurrently contained. Last Saturday was a major shut-in day when I diden't get out at all. Today I was out and about some in the morning and then by 1100h after the manager came by to tell me he couldn't find the keys for the storage lockers downstairs, I was shut-in. They even had me nap for 1.5 hours on the just laundered bedsheets and top blanket, after delaying the drying with a never-before forced "forget", even with the bed apart only 4' away. The arranged two dryer cycles, the first left in place for 2 hours after once hour of drying was insufficient, and then again at 1300h, finishing at 1340h. That laundry games go on all the time isn't new, just the variations of their research games.

Last Saturday was athe 80th anniversary event of my old high school when I was kept shut-in all day, even getting celebrity attendance of two former students if you follow the link and here. So all those graduates of the past 80 years who were attending were getting ready and participating while I was kept in place the whole day and evening. It might be related, these concurrent levels of widely different activity between me and the rest of certain populations. There are no coincidences in my life, that is for sure.

1920h
I attempted to play an Blu-ray disc and Windows Media Player won't play it for crissakes. The vacuum cleaning noise and activity started up just before this hassle began, and has now moved in outside my door while I have the headphones on. At this time, on a Saturday, when they never clean this apartment building. Amazing coincidences all the time, especially with vacuum cleaners.

Fifteen minutes later the vacuum cleaner is still running outside my door with some on/offs (read, EMF spikes) as part the perp harassment tactics. All the while I am reading to discover there is no free Blu-ray software out there and the wretched Windows 7 won't natively play it. Just ridiculous. Now, a DVD won't play unless the assholes keep the subtitles in place, when the film (Moulin Rouge) is in English. So much for watching a movie tonight on this wretched Windows box.

And the perps have shut down my movie viewing nearly 100% since 2003; I have only seen three in the past year, and none before then. I have no idea why they see the need to choke me down on movie viewing when I have so much time to piss around. Though, the next four weeks I will be busy at a forest seedling nursery.

2250h
More reading of a book, Bobby and Jackie, a love story by C. David Heymann. A page turner of a book for sure, and finally someone shed some light on this that other biographers would not. As the book indicates, it was likely the most normal and loving relationship either had experienced. Worth a read if you are into 1960's history; I was in primary and junior high school then. Now that I read the amazon reviews I see there are many doubters as to the veracity of this book. Hard to know, but it fits the pattern of the central players.

Off to post this, and hoping I don't get any more strange dreams like last night; repeated scenes of destruction and interactions with personnel about data loss. It came across as very real, and now, the perps can over-ride my ability to bail out on strange dreams, and keep me in it.

Tree Seedling Handling

2011-11-26T00:14:00.000-08:00

I see my email got hacked again, and a message that purports from me, "Hola, friends", did not come from me and there are no records of it in my Sent box. I changed my password, as I see it was a hack from a few days ago, and I am hoping this bullshit is over.

1900h
Thats my new job for the next four weeks, handling tree seedling plugs and wrapping them in in bundles with shrinkwrap. It is about the easiest job I have had in horticulture, my new imposed career courtesy of my perp masters, when they allow me to work of course, which hasn't been full time. When they did their "shock (literally, in more than one way) and awe" high abuse onset in 04-2002, they didn't let me work at a job until 2008, and that was picking daffodil bulbs for two months.

And some 30 to 40 people on this afternoon shift, though today it was orientation and a warm-up. And yes, the freak count was high, though to be fair, there are three native Indian reserves nearby, and they count for some half of the crew in all their corpulent variety, as well as facial features like missing teeth, vacant stares, and even one fucker doing the "come at me" walk, and then averts at the last moment. Fucking bizarre I get this all over town and now at work. Just like last year and the Fugliest Negro coming at me for no reason.

Other freaks from the Unfavored demographic groups are a skinhead, elder dudes, the crack case like hoodie dude, and a negro woman, one who I met in 2008 at the farm job, and conversed with her enough to tell her this tale of woe. Today, she treats me like a leper, avoiding me twice and then barely saying hello, which is straight out of the perp playbook, friendly people going unfriendly. She pulled this stunt earlier this year at a bus stop where I was, wallking straight past me, looking deadset forward and pretending not to notice me 2' away. Just more of the usual bizarre antics the perps command in my proximity.

I had a notion she would be there, through a supposed mutual former co-worker who I email every fe days and will help move her out of her house next weekend, not tomorrow. On the way to the bus stop today, a negro dude was talking to himself and wearing a long skirt just to add to the show. Then on the bus a negro woman on the cell phone the whole 25 minute trip, so one can see that I was "negro-ed" in advance of getting to my perp abetting mother's place to then borrow her vehicle to get to the tree nursery. A negro stalking prior to working with a known-before negro.

And a legs and nut shave last night, and the perps always go extra beserk the next day, and today was no exception. They seem to like me doing this on Thursday nights for some reason when it was Saturday nights for three months prior. This leg shaving started in June as part of getting my legs tanned, surely a perp planted vanity notion as I never particularly cared what my legs looked like as I wore long pants al the time. But as all male features and comportment styles are getting exposed in all their facets, bare hairy legs, beards, shaved heads, hairy arms, waddle walking and the like, it would seem the perps did not want me to share in them this year by me looking at my own legs. So... this sudden vanity streak erupted in June this year (2011), along with a "need" to have short spandex shorts for the summer, and nothing to do with the fugly below-knee baggy shorts male parade I see all the time, and even now with the cold wet weather.

I picked up a parcel on the way there, a brown cardboard one, and lo, if the vehicular gangstalking on the way to the tree nursery didn't feature a large cardboard box in the pickup ahead of me, and accompanying vehicles to box me in to prevent me from passing the fucker.

Said parcel had a Peltor earmuff hygeine kit; replacement earpads and sound dampening foam. And for the second successive occasion, the earpads didn't quite fit, being 3mm too large in diameter, but identical in the symetrical oval shape. The previous replacement set were 2mm too big. So... I take the new foam insert and stuff it into the earmuff cup along with that I had on hand, and have tossed two new sets of earpads out. I just don't seen the point of these fucking games, pissing with my earmuffs which I have on my head most of the time, adding in new foam (three per earmuff cup now) and getting stiffed with the old earpads that are splitting up. Besides, the ringing noise in my head is just as bad, and if the perps want to punch a particular noise through to my ears, they can bypass the earmuffs altogether and deliver the exact noise at their prescribed volume, which is often the same as without the earmuffs on.

2000h
I see that the Dymo twin label printer is flashing one of its two blue lights that are normally constant. So I look under the lid and I see yesterday's file folder label that got stuck is gone altogether, as I couldn't pull it out in either direction and gave up. I attempted to reload the file folder label spool, but no, it fucked up and the label loader motor wouldn't take it. More things to repair, but different than I left it last night.

2250h
Something from Rachael O hits a nerve today:

Being targeted has forced me to be such a loser and surrounded by people I would not have chosen to be around. ...I am forced to depend on people who are not really interested in winning, just maintaining.

Oh my, how I could write volumes on the dipshits I have been saddled with over my years as MC slave/abusee. Yessir, yet another part of the gangstalking/harassment/abuse scene is surround reasonable intelligent people with utter dumbshits. Not that I am comparing intelligences to my fave TI-in-arms, but it has been a very common perp theme, and all the more now since the day of infamy came on me in 04-2002. My in-town brother has had a starring role, and burnished at little more today when he "happened" to be at the First Feral Family house on the PC when I arrived there today to borrow my perp-abetting mother's vehicle.

Every few months he gets tasked by my mother in concert with me, to remove landscape vegetative matter like weeds, cut branches and any weedy or non-compostable matter (too woody). He grumps about it, but has the perfect vehicle to remove it readily, a white trades van. It usually takes him weeks to come by, and by then it has been doused with rain water, soaked some, even if it is in plastic bags. And so he complains that it is wet. Like WTF; pick it up right away so it doesn't get wet. Then he launches his hoary master excuse for everything, "I don't have enough time". Well, as it turns out, he was a totally focussed garage sale trover outside his day job, wheeling and dealing all over town and knows the entire street map of this town in his head. A year ago, for some obscure reason (read, perp managed), he takes up kick boxing to initiate fitness for the first time at 51 y.o. Commendable, and he goes 3x/ week regularly. So he found time to do this regular activity, and in doing so, blows a mighty hole in his stock excuse for inaction, "I don't have enough time". I reminded him once about this logical disjunct a few months ago and expected that would be the end of this 20 year long excuse he trots out. But no, he brings it up again, and I remind him of how he brought kick boxing into his life, and I let it go at that. He is like a stuck record/CD, even if he has no defensible and logical rebuttal. How can one have a discussion, enlightened arguement with a logical cripple? One cannot, ergo, another loser/go-nowhere person in my existence.

That he lost one eye in an accident of some kind, only he was there, when aged two from the perps (IMHO) doesn't seem to disuade him from his present perp-abetting rut he lives in. The reason I maintain the perps did it, is that in this totally perp managed family, with abetting parents from the get-go, there is absolutely nothing that happens that is an accident. Also, I get vision perturbations and hacking every waking minute, often one eye, then the other with strange focussing or double vision, always momentarily. And given that the eye socket and eyeball size has reached maximum size by age two, I suspect the perps knew exactly when to pull this stunt off in expected support of them covertly investigating me at that juncture, aged seven then, and ever since. I point out to my brother that the perps likely gouged his eye out and here is abetting them. I also point out that the perps are likely depressing him, and messing with the muscle/tendom problems he has, and that he should go and ream his handler's ass to get the real story on how much he is getting fucked. But no, he just mumbles something, and carries on as this feckless quisling. I suppose my problem is that I am motivated, won't ever accept the status quo, and am principled. And I get saddled with two brothers and parents who just aren't up to this standard of human interaction, (or pretend to be, or are managed to be). Maybe one person in my working career was intellectually interesting and shared my sense of motivation and dispair over the feckless, the liars, the goofs, and the rest of the tawdry lot I have been stiffed with as part of this perp managed life, down to the last gnat fart within 10 miles of me. Even last year's TI meeting in Nanaimo was an exercise in consorting with the idle-minded (or else constrained), save one with some spark in her. They didn't initiate any discussions, they didn't ask what was happening for me, they were in passive mode nearly all the time, if not in hang-dog pose, and one even came in to sit close with her back turned on me, the classic shit I deal with on the fucking gangstalker cruiser, the city bus freakshow, every week or more. So the entire event was arranged IMHO, though maybe not all of the dialog was scripted perhaps. I am not even allowed a free-form discussion and interaction with the regional TI community when I get to meet them in person it seems.

Well maybe one more was an interesting person in the past 20 years, and that was Ms. L of the story, whom I met at the Seattle national ADD conference in 2001. She was funny at times, a joy to be with except when she was hungry and then things deteriorated very fast. And she was making, it seemed, an honest effort to deal with her ADD issues, if not a little too excessive and quirky at times. In short, we clicked, and had similar interests, and were mutally supportive in our ADD issues, web research discoveries, attending cultural events etc. So... a week before the perps invade my apartment and out themselves as overt abusers, escalating it of course, Ms. L is off to New York. We talked on the phone long distance once that week, and it wasn't the best call I had from her, as she was so emotionally wracked from seeing the 9/11 destruction. Understandable, and we expected to meet up when she got back soon. But then a day or two after the Day of Abusive Infamy struck, the next call I got from her was that she was back in Seattle (she said). I conveyed what went on with the apartment invasion and all the real world things that happened and their continuing physical presence as well as the new (to me then) gangstalking, and she lapsed into this new familiar bullshit about seeing my doctor. I gave her some more examples of what was going on, she got all testy, and then hung up. I never heard from her again when she was a supportive person and that it was totally out of character for her. So ended the second instance of a motivated person I have met in the past two decades, though in fact, the whole ending had to be scripted. Whether she was an act, or whether she was genuinely ADD with some emotional amplititude problems I have no idea. But it is profundly clear in hindsight that the perps wanted to build up this mutally empathetic and supportive relationship and then suddenly jerk it away, never to replace it since of course. So yes Rachael, it is lonely as a questing TI, and that situation is managed to a significant degree by the perps down to even a fleeting empathic smile from a bank teller. Never mind anything more meaty or engaging than that.

Back to Rachael O's post today; I love her pithy, lucid and objective analysis as she skewers the pathetic, indolent and the complacent; "Peacable loving people piss me off after a while". Hmm, maybe I will get to meet her sometime and form our own principled TI group. A joke.

And here we have TI-lite, not meant in any way to diminish, deride or deny the absolutely atrocious experiences of JK Rowling (author of the Harry Potter books) as conveyed to the ongoing public Leveson Inquiry about abuses by the press in the UK. Why yes, I am harassed and gangstalked in public all the time, followed and surveilled as well. It is much the same as a TI, except the public pictures and stories in the newspapers; "besieged", "hostage", "drove ..out" of one's home, "watching you", "unjustifiably intrusive" etc. all apply, all the time as a TI. But it is MUCH, MUCH WORSE for TI's; one's cognitive and physical abilities are being remotely dithered and hacked and messed with, and one's life is a scripted charade 24x7. And that is not all; one's entire physical world is altered to make it constantly adverse as well as strange; telekinesis and teleporting objects, mostly lint, crumbs, threads and water drops are in constant abundance and take trajectories that are often unconventional. I sometime's wonder if celebs and whomever the press chooses to invade isn't also a perp concocted arrangement so they can keep a spectrum of life invasion and disruption going as part of their nonconsensual human experimentation/research imperative.

Anyway, too much pondering tonight, and time to post this.

Almost a Shut-In Day

2011-11-24T22:05:00.000-08:00

1835h
A nearly total shut-in day, with only an excursion to the Apple store a two min. walk away to look at a certain gift for my daughter, the ex supplying me a list a few days ago. I enter and there were three dudes on their laptops at the counter, seated and conversing, but an attractive young female assistant came to my aid. The perps had me dithered big-time, as she asked me what size, and I said something to the effect that I didn't know there was a choice in physical size, as I had already checked them out on Amazon, and there was only one "size". Then she explained to me it was the storage size. Like WTF; I could of figured out her open ended statement on my own, but no, some asshole had to me me look like an idiot. Then it followed that there was another blatant faux pas over being able to identify the green colored one, and I knew I was getting totally screwed. The prices were substantially lower than I expected; online, the 16Gb model is $234.40, but it was $150 at the Apple store, cheaper by $10 than the online Amazon price for the 8Gb model. I am glad for bricks and mortar stores many times, and all the more when so substantial savings are to be had. Though, it isn't true for books though, as I came to find out last year.

Back to the Apple store; the pink color wasn't to be had but could be ordered in, and it would take two weeks the assistant found out by asking the male Middle Eastern looking manager. On two occasions I offered to pay the full amount instead of a deposit to order one, but still she persisted in charging me only $20. Part of the ritual was that I had to give my name, address, phone number, email etc. and I had navigated around the three dudes at this point, only getting access at the counter corner, at the sharp end of the "L" elbow. The dudes were on my left, and getting louder while I gave the assistant this information, making for at least three repeat agains, either she or me "mis-hearing" (read, situational dithering of aural cognition), three times, and having me speak substantially louder than I thought was needed. A younger blonde woman came to my right, around the corner of the counter, 90 degrees offset, 3' away and stood there sort of dumbstruck for some 20 seconds or so, as she didn't have any engagement with anyone else. Then she puts on a deep furrowed black toque on her blonde hair, and then departs from the store. I have seen these black furrowed toques many times in the harassment/gangstalker games, and all I can surmise is that they are to emulate the most disgusting hairdo style ever, dreadlocks. The perps have been hounding me with this infernal hairstyle, deeply Unfavored, and it just maybe that they deem black touques with woven furrows as a "beginners guide" to finding out why I absolutely loathe dreadlocks hair. That it has been a 9.5 year obsession of the perps seems to relate to when they deleted my recall when aged two to five, and stuffed negroes in with other children as seen in the Indian Lake Project. Not my problem, so why is it an international fuckover that seems to command thousands of pyschopathic assholes to hound me in two countries for close to ten years of their abusive insanity?

Don't know. Back to the above financial transaction in the Apple store. I get this very different debit card reader, which gets passed to me after I profer my debit card, and I key in the approvals and account details, and look up, and lo, if the dude closest to me hasn't moved one foot closer and has turned his back some 45 degrees. Like WTF; why is making a financial transaction an internation Fuckover scene that has lasted over 9.5 years? Early in the intensified abuse days of 2002, I would get these dudes, who were not obviously shopping, plant themselves 2' from me with their back toward me, looking away, and not even pretending to be in a checkout line, but adjacent and blocking the aisle. Even then, it was WTF, and where did this asshole come from and why is it repeating every fucking time I buy something in public? And although more subtle and calmer now, the same senseless charade of inanity continues, often with plenty of background banter, or asking me extra questions at the checkout, or even now, dumbshits loitering at the checkout exit with the excuse it is to wait for their friends of the same brown skinned features at an adjacent checkout, (Asians being the last-most post-checkout ethnic/race swarm to date). Alternatively, there are various Unfavored color (red, pink, orange, yellow, brown) dressed Fuckwits ahead or behind me, not to mention their favorite public fruit prop, bananas on the checkout belt.

And then the third stunt that was also in progress as the transaction progressed was the Middle Eastern manager kept coming to intervene for some inconsequential purpose, at least twice. This was a minor repitition of a certain Middle Eastern fat boy who constantly stalked me at the 2007-2008 2x/week exercise class. Only then did I understand that this particular ethnic appearance was its own Unfavored demographic group. Another notable gangstalking moment earlier this year was having the Middle Eastern store assistant due hide behind the store assistant babe (Caucasian) each time I looked. Like WTF- what is this litany of imposed fucking stupidity all about?

But too, the male-female bait and switch games at the checkout have been going on in earnest since 2002. The babe as the cashier usually starts out, and then a "shift change" suddenly happens with the dude coming in to finish the job. This time, it was the Middle Eastern male doing the honors of "popping in and out", getting face time while the transaction was in progress. More rampant stupidity, but wholly predictable.

The visitation and transaction wasn't any longer than 15 minutes, and so ended my big outing for the day. I got to my mail box on the way back (read, as in no one standing over it), and saw that my college registration papers had arrived in an envelope that had not been sealed; the flap was open, partially folded, and no attempt had been made to seal it. It isn't the first time that my mail has come this way, and it didn't pass unnoticed that they had me purchase a box of self-sealing envelopes which I still have, for the few times I send anything in the mail. No licking envelopes allowed, per imposition of the secret police.

I am now registered to take the Viticulture Certificate program in Pentiction, British Columbia, Canada, starting Jan. 09. That is where I will be moving to by the end of December, the first time they have had me move in over four years (4 years, 7 months), the second longest residence in any one location that they have allowed me, ever. It runs for three months, and for the second time in 9.5 years, they are sending me off to class.

Hopefully the outcome will be a full time job and not a total jerkaround like it was when I finished the Oracle DBA evening courses in 2009. And too, back in 1990, I took a year off work and took ten months of full time Geographic Information Systems (GIS) training, to get sidelined (ahem) for the next nine years on Oracle database software development, a project that took three iterations to defy the pervasive incompetence I got saddled with. I was never able to re-establish my GIS credentials. This is the most flagrant example of getting trained up and then totally derailed and fucked with so to waste the opportunity. And you don't think that it is going to "happen" again? I sincerely doubt it, and some jerkaround will likely be invoked to to send me back to this infernal gangstalk town yet again. Three months of away time as a full time college student is nothing for the assholes to arrange. All the more intensified by the fact that the Okanagan is much superior for grape cultivation than this coastal region, and represents the best opportinities for the better wineries.

If one looks on the First Feral Family events of the past 10 years, there has been a clear pattern to have me visit the Okanagan, Penticton in particular, and even stay there one time while driving the FFF parents around on a wine region holiday. Not that they ever drank wine much, as they had no interest in it apart from making horrid hootch from local blackberries. But their newfound interest in wine erupted back when the hrassment started, and hasn't let up.

So it seems that wine, and I had been making wine as an amateur hobbyist for over 20 years, is a route to the perp's Big Goal, whatever that is for the perps. That they have had me doing farm laboring, -berries, carrots, potatoes, daffodils and miscellaneous vegetables for the past four years in this abusive purgatory seems to be now leading up to viticulture and winemaking. At that rate, I see this vile abuse going on for at least five more years. That makes it 2017 when the might relent, for all TI's possibly, and who knows how it is going to end, as I will be the last to know.

2135h
A screaming rage show over my Dymo label printer not working when it was just fine, even after testing the new file folder label spool I installed last week, also another screaming rage show due to imposed adversity at every physical moment. Now, it prints the first file label just fine, and now the second one jammed up and cannot be pulled out in either direction. Like WTF; why do so many functional things go wrong all the time?

Said label printer was working just fine a year ago, a rare instance of a no-problem technical install. Now, a year later, it fucks up. And it only took a year of intention to get these infernal file folder lablels as they aren't stocked locally, and finally ordered in a bout of recent extra attention to all the items that kept slipping off my to-do list. Not to mention snowstorms back east when I phoned Dymo in early 2011, and to later "forget" to phone them again. Twice I attempted to contact them by phone or email and it got blocked for "some reason", read, arranged adversity.

But as this is a Dymo twin printer, why, can't I go with one spool to print and leave the other jammed? No, as it turned out, the R side printer jammed and then backed up the queue for BOTH sides. So while screaming at the assholes when the L side spool didn't print, why, the queue was backing them up. Then I had to dig all over in the Windows task bar to find the printing queue, and once found, to see that it was stopped. I cancelled the queue, and reprinted the L side from the Dymo application, and it worked. And why is Windows so lame for over two decades now, in hiding the printer queue in elsewhere and not having it viewable in Word, in Open Office, and now Dymo Labelwriters? Or have these, and other organizations all decided to all do the same thing; hide the printer queue? Don't get me started.

And back in the days of mainframes, when I was working on a DEC VMS, we did a significant amount of printing for mail-out; once the job was run to create the report, determined after looking at the log file, we sent the print file to be printed at one of two print queues. The first thing we did after that was to look at the queue to see what position the job was at and all the particulars as to how big, when it might finish etc. I am not saying that print queues are necessary in the present day PC world, but if they are going to have them, then make them accessible to the applications that launches the print jobs. Especially this label printing, which shouldn't be on a central print queue as it is a dedicated printer device for the Dymo application. Somewhere, someone has made this 10x more stupid than it needs to be, and guess who exploits that to the limit when they like to inflict extra adversity on selected victims?

Somedays I think the whole Windows O/S has been given perp oversight to ensure it is klutzy, illogical at times, and confusing, ensuring three or more ways to do the same thing when one will do. And that the integrated and highly ergonomic Apple world is there to eventually take over. Its just that the perps need to heighten the grief and vexation at first, and then gradually reduce it by having the vexed users migrate to Apples over the next two decades. Just speculation of course, but it seems that the perps knew that the MS-Windows 3.0 was going to go big as early as 1990, as the IT people at my job and my ex were all early investors who cleaned up big-time. Even as we technical users, much accomplished in the DEC/VMS realm, were highly disrupted and insulted by the imposition of an O/S that wasn't even multi-tasking back then.

Enough techno-banter from the pen; onto a orientation and abbreviated start-up work day tomorrow, and to find out who my coworkers are and what the freak count will be.

Intercom Obstruction

2011-11-23T22:47:00.000-08:00

11-22-2011
1315h
A piss-off to start the day, as my intercom messaging was deliberately obstructed when I find a DHL delivery note on the outside of the door, with my name on it. The delivery attempt was at 0915h, and I was here and doing yoga, so I would of heard it had it rung. So, the assholes deliberately obstructed the intercom to arrange this fuck-up and for me to carry this bright yellow post-it note paper in my pocket for my outing to the bookstore. The same bookstore as I was at yesterday with my perp-abetting mother. The usual cast of shiftless males was in constant flux around me, save the "staff member" who kept on reprising, even when I was at the checkout.

A few middle age women were on intensive gangstalking as well, one making it obvious she was on my ass and getting way too close in the line for the checkouts. And the one ahead of me had some conversation with the cashier and then went to stand 6' away while I was at the same cashier. Said gangstalker woman was then in the perfect spot to crimp my egress out of the store, post-purchase. And have I mentioned how often the perps like to gangstalk me at financial transactions? At least every week. And today, it was a repeat of yesterday, except my mother bought the items and I was beside her.

Then onto the bank to get more coins for the laundry machines, and the usual downtown Freakshow was in progress. This time, the teller was a blonde Fatgirl, though friendly and even smiled a few times. Not the usual scared shitless look I get. I suppose they wanted to put on a friendly face once and a while, but all these Fatgirls is excessive of late.

An add-on to the above intercom obstruction; last week the ex phoned around 0915h and the phone did not ring, and I was here, doing yoga at that time. And lo, if something similar doesn't happen less than a week later nearly exactly at the same time of day while I am engaging in the same activity.

11-23-201
1400h
I see that my Craigslist posting didn't post for "some reason" when I did everything right and the interface is so dog simple. All to keep me pondering why no one responds to my ad about my bed that I want to unload before I move at the end of December. Naturally, this will be the most coveted bed for research purposes in human history if I may sound aggrandizing for the moment, as it seems that the perps devote huge efforts to gangstalk me with the same colors of the matress (navy blue), its cover (lighter steel blue) each morning whenever I exit this apartment.

I had an interview this morning for four weeks of evening shifts at a forest nursery, grading, sorting and packaging plug stock seedlings. Another "group interview", with two ponytail males and two mutes as the other candidates with me. The one redcoated ponytail, who hadn't worked there before, was carrying on like a Master of Ceremonies, kibitzing with staff (whom he did not know prior to this he said), and taking me to the lunch room to meet the mutes, one of whom I had worked with at the daffodil farm. This was all before the interviewer arrived, which made it look like a total set up; how did the mutes and the redcoat ponytail know where to go in the building to hang out before meeting the interviewer. Then the blonde male ponytail dude arrives just as we are about to enter the building, as directed by the interviewer. Sliding in at the last moment dressed head to toe in black with a massive blonde ponytail coiled at his shoulders for me to see.

Anyhow, it was less an interview than showing us the job, and the usual considerations that prospective employees might have. He seemed like a regular person and wasn't doing wierd things for about the first time ever in an employment situation. Everything seemed OK for earning $10/hour, plus a completion incentive.

And after departing the building, the next batch of interviewees were there, native Indians mostly, in hoodie mode, and one saw fit to tail me to my vehicle.

Then a drive back to the First Feral Family house with my heavy red colored vehicular gangstalking contingent, and lo, if my perp-abetting mother wasn't off to Mill Bay shortly as a friend was coming to pick her up. And lo, if Mill Bay isn't opposite (due W) across Saanich Inlet from the forest nursery I was at only a half hour before. And my mother had launched into this batshit wacko suggestion about Mill Rd. (Mills as it turned out) only two days earlier when it wasn't of any use to me in getting to the forest seedling nursery.

As I stayed at the FFF house last night, I got to see the rainstorm first hand while helping my mother with her cardboad box cutting that was needed in advance for the recycle garbage that goes to the curb. And lo, if she didn't pick the fugliest carmine red raincoat to do this with, adding to the fugly color scene, as the perps are still hounding my ass over brown cardboard, and too, adding in distance dependent viewing of these fugly colors as the light conditions and reflectivity change under the streetlights in the pouring rain.

And as it "happened" the gutter was overflowing and water was pouring over it instead of reaching the downpipe. Soo.. that was my first assignment after driving the FFF vehicle into the garage, was to attend to this gutter, as in clean it out of sand from the roofing and the algae. I had to do this on a ladder, a fitting finale to getting heavy gangstalking from ladder-bearing vehicles, and ladders propped on powerpoles while driving back from the interview.

A city bus freakshow to get back to my place after cleaning the FFF gutter, that sits over the garage where I returned the FFF vehicle. A redcoat woman was on the restless pacing act at the bus stop, and the assholes had flicked rain water on the seat to keep me standing outside the bus shelter for the parade of vehicles that erupts on very suburban Tyndall Ave each time I am there.

The city bus freakshow had eight dudes ringed around me while sitting in the rearmost seat. The two fat dudes who sat in the transverse seat in front of me, one wearing shorts for crissakes and with clown-like tight curly hair to add to his Unfavored level (male over 16, fat, shorts wearing, curly hair), and to ensure that they were meant to be noticed. A petite Asian girl finally came to sit behind me, this being a 1228h #27 bus with over 30 passengers headed into downtown; very odd even with Xmas a month away. Then two negro women, one cafe-au-lait for five minutes of travel time before she got off, then in 10 mintues, another darker one who strangely walked past an availible seat and stood at the rear exit for one bus stop travel duration and then almost mechanically walked back to the vacant seat to be there when I got off with my two biddies.

Then a new internet modem by dint of the cable company offering me faster internet and TV (phone stays the same) for $20/month less, even if I don't have any use for TV. And after the installer has gone, I find out it is Wi-Fi -funny they didn't mention this as I don't want spurious EMF signals added to my life, more than I already have (1,600 Gauss measured in 2009). But as two prospective locations to where I am to move Jan. 2012 have wi-fi, it just might be all about getting me ready, as in bathing me in more EMF signals like much of the rest of the population the utility serves. And lo, if the installer didn't leave the two brown cardboard boxes behind when they always take them with them; that he slinked out didn't go unnoticed.

And my perp-abetting mother gets a call from the forest nursery and I find out that the interviewer phoned the wrong number, but anyhow, I start work on Friday at a tree nursery for four weeks, five days a week, weekends off. I will be borrowing the FFF Ford Escape vehicle each weekday at 1430h or so, and driving it to work, getting off at midnight. I expect plenty of coworkers to be wearing red, as it is a prime gangstalk color when the daylight goes to night, when one's vision shifts from retinal cones (bright light) to rods (low light), an abidding perp research interest from the get-go when this fucking insane abuse torrent was unleashe upon me in 04-2002. And handling plant roots at this time too, another insane obsession of the perps.

2130h
Another tanning salon visitation, this time they had me wait past my reservation time for 8 minutes to view the three blonde babes proceed outside, each a few minutes apart. This time, it was another female assistant's duty to show her cleavage and dip her head down with a low top to reveal ample breasts. After a "warm up" of pit lamping me with two vehicles one after the other with sidecast from their headlights, one of the blondes proceeded to her beat-up mid-1980 Ford F250 pickup outside and start the engine, turn on the headlights to illuminate the waiting area and then hallway for the length of the facility. She sat there for at least four minutes before finally departing, having executed the pre-tanning session pit-lamping from outside the tanning salon into it while I was kept isnside. On my two block walk to the tanning salon I was also "warmed up" by prior pit-lamping by at least four bicycles, three of them on this wretched strobing they now like to do with LED lights.

Once out of the tanning salon, I get the ponytail male gangstalker with an apparent swath of hair down his cheek. I go to the LD store to shop and get further gangstalked all over the place with these strange setups of dudes standing together but apparently not associated. One stood 12" or less behind the other, both still for at least five seconds, and then they proceed in file, with the follower gangstalker still on the heels of the first one. The first one was pretending not to know that there was a co-Fuckwit beside him when still, and then when walking, and I don't see how anyone could fail to notice someone on their heels. I once took a picture of this dude from across the street walking parallel to me, and a negro dude walking 2' behind him as if marching soldiers in all its ludicrousness. And lo, if the picture didn't get messed with to show that they were much further apart and the ridiculous element of this scenario was removed from my digital camera. (They could also mess with film pictures in the same way).

Back to the LD gangstalk; once these strange two dudes passed by, one serially tailing the other, there was an orange coated male Fuckwit partially obstructing the aisle, just where the dude pair stopped for five seconds to do their faux buddy clustering. And by the time I got to pass by the orange coat, why, another identical orange-coated female Fuckwit was standing on the other side of the aisle, constricting the space through which I would pass. That is to say, the female orange-coast stood exactly where the serial dude gangstalk pair stopped for this perverse five seconds, and created a constriction with a male orange-coat on the other side of the aisle. Fucking ridiculous that I cannot be allowed to walk anywhere without these strange setups over coat color, male and female variations and the rest of the insane Fuckover Freakshow which abounds everywhere I go. That I had just been at the tanning salon added to the scripted perversity, as they are always more beserk after a tanning salon visit. And plenty of extra red gangstalking vehicle out and about too.

Then in the last intersection of two before I get to my building, the ponytail male outside of the salon re-emerged from a building corner to get suddenly closer, and lo, if that seeming swath of hair wasn't a 6" long, 1.5" wide fully filled in tattoo down the side of his face. Not the most disgusting tattoo I have seen, but the most blatant. Funny how he managed to time his re-arrival after I had delayed my path back from the salon in the LD store, and pop out from behind a corner that the Fuckwits so like to do, get suddenly closer and in my face.

Enough detailing the inanity, though for the next month, Mon-Fri, it will be different in that I will be staying at the FFF house after returning the vehicle after midnight. Which will likely mean that I will take most of my usual breakfast foods there, adding yet more permutations and combinations and juxtaposition into this insane and relentless Fuckover, predicated on the abusers not wanting to come out of the closet for over 9.5 years. How fucking stupid is that?

Start the Vacuum Cleaners

2011-11-21T22:34:00.000-08:00

1750h
I cannot believe it; two vacuum cleaners have started this Monday evening; the overhead whine of a powerhead model, and now the staff (har, har), have started one in the hallway near my door. But it is a High Harassment Monday, having stayed at the First Feral Family house last night, and helped out raking leaves there. And accompanying my perp-abetting mother to the biggest freakshow of all, Downtown Victoria. The vagrant and semi-vagrant dudes were out in force, even putzing around in the bookstore on their cellphones while "shopping", (read, gangstalking) in this big stakeout that seemed to be arranged around the color of the leaves I raked this morning for three hours at the FFF house. Yessir, deep burgundy tones from the maple tree next door was about 60% of the leaf raking, and muted yellows for 30% and brown and light greens for 10%. And the deep burgundy Volkswagen Vanagon/Westfalias (camper version) that the perps so like to arrange were out in force, and too, the yellowjackets in the same yellow tones as this morning's leaves.

And lo, if the vacuum cleaner wasn't exactly outside my door when I went to leave. And too, the yellow plastic vacuum cleaner head was augmented with a band of dayglo fuschia ribbon around its perimeter. Fucking hilarious; a totally non-functional augmentation for color games, in keeping with the perp's favorite colors, those "constructive wave" interference dayglo colors. Said vacuuming person was this thin drawn woman, crack addict-like features.

2220h
A tanning salon session and the prerequiste double coverage of Fuckwit gangstalkers at the LD store that I usually stop in afterward. More vacant dudes, four of them lined up at the chocolate section when they had been backing off with one or two in the past month or so.

And a new trick while tanning on the sunbed; the perps arrange for the entire tanning bed lights to flicker at the exact moment they script a squeak noise as if I had moved on the bed when I hadn't. This "happened" twice in one session when it had never occured before, the light flicker at least. Plus, either the place didn't clean the bed or else the perps added some extra goo under my back, as the sun bed surface was extra gooey when I got up.

And of all things, I got a job interview for a temporary four week tree nursery job in two days. This is the first time the assholes have allowed me to have a job interview since early 2000, closing in on 12 freaking years of not being allowed to go to a job interview. Past farm work jobs have been either "show up and survive" hiring or else a cursory phone call and then the offer of starting within a day or so. I have no idea what this means for the perp's progress, but one can assume the assholes aren't inclined to move too quick unless it is administering abuse or noise.

And now, at I close off for posting, a round of overhead noise has erupted that is indentical to the garbage chute noise of the building I lived in 2005 to 2006, when I was 20' from the garbage chute. For the last four years of living in this building I have been removed from the garbage chute and have heard no noise from it whatsoever. But now, in a new escalation of blatant noise impositon, they re-invoke the noise of the former building in this one that had no such noise until recently.

Onto Viticulture

2011-11-18T22:39:00.000-08:00

1115h

A legs shave last night; begun with a sudden "need" to shut down this PC at 2130h, when normally I go to 2200 or 2300h before considering going to bed. As always, shaving anywhere, especially if outside the daily habit, brings on extra perp abuses and gangstalking activity.

A busy morning, and much noisestalked too as I filled out the forms and checks to send to Okanagan College to register for the Viticulture Certificate program training, Jan. to March end. Yessir, after a near unprecedented four years living on one location, rarely allowed going by past events, I will be moving to a small town in the interior of British Columbia to attend three months of classes so I can be an educated vineyard laborer. And too, I get to compete with the Mexican visa farm workers for the same jobs. Hardly a step up the earnings ladder, and hopefully all this course work won't be another perp managed jerkaround in arranging futile activity, unlike the Oracle DBA courses I took in 2009-10, which got me a few phone calls and nothing else.

And I see they have already begun to shake the place, and no doubt other arranged human foibles will follow, e.g. car accidents, murders etc. For perp research, nothing beats having someone's blood contents on the ground. Stay tuned.

The vineyard and winemaking angle has long been a perp interest, and if you subscribe to that seeming fact that my entire life has been a series of nonstop arranged events, then my prior winemaking hobby of 20 years was likely meant to serve the perp's purposes. Add on my perp abetting parents and their newfound interest in wine, even to the point of having me drive them around for annual winery visitations and tastings in the Okanagan region in the fall for the past four years (this year excepted), then one can readily surmise that there is something the perps expect to gain from wine, its color, ingestion and digestion and provenance (where it is from). In other words, wine, along with all my foods from backyard (tomatoes and beans this year), to the other side of the world (e.g. coconut oil), the perps are attempting to glean something intrinsic about the source location from me via the foods or drink beveages I have. To date, I have called these "earth energies" for lack of a better term, but the perps have been absolutely consistent in messing with my food and drink sources, and for that matter, all objects, wherever something is made, manufactured or shipped from. Which also includes the packaging and shipping materials, transportation and containering, stores and particular shelves as well as the orientation of the items on the shelf.

And more checkout "hold ups" (read, arranged delays and obstructions) today at the supermarket. Not only the elder-dude putzing with his charge card over a single bag of bulk granola, or the chinless dude immediately ahead of me, plus other freaks, but they put on a negro to troll along the aisle adjacent to the checkouts, also followed with the bearded dude who popped out from an aisle end earlier. Then the Fat Girl arrived behind me, and in metaphoric terms, it seems the assholes need to dress up a pig with lipstick, having the Fat Girl in blonde hair. This has been more common of late, though as always, the perps like to mix up Unfavored features (fat people, vagrants etc.) with Favored features (blonde, female, attractive).

Yesterday, while on the city bus, and viewing the panel of freaks in front of me, as I was in the rear-most full width seat next to the window, they put on negro woman exactly opposite of the location where they had one the day before. And not the same woman either, though it was the same time of day. I cannot fathom, apart from arranged gangstalking, why over 30 passengers would be heading into downtown on a Thursday evening on the city bus. Regular readers will know that the perps go especially beserk around dusk, so all I can surmise is that they aren't concerned with appearences any more, they just put on the gangstalkers they need for any given travel mode. Not to mention the recent strangeness of the bus driver stopping the bus for no apparent reason and having it sit for two minutes with the door open. (And not at a timing location in the schedule).

While shopping in the local supermarke the gangstalkers were all over my ass, posted exactly where I wanted to go after another one dithered over top of the shopping baskets. Then they blanked me out totally as to what I wanted to get, even if it was unequivocally clear for the past two days. As I approached another aisle after getting skunked on the lurker gangstalker over top of the coconut oil, what I wanted to get, the perps totally wiped my recall as to what I was there for. I have never, ever had suck a sudden and complete memory loss before, and over grocery shopping for crissakes.

As part of the show, they had red dressed gangstalkers, one being an elder-dude in some kind of anorak with large red panels who was tailing me for the second time, coming at me W bound when I was travelling N, and I came to the store aisle first, and look back to see if the Fuckwit was still tailing me, and lo, if they didn't put on a different red dressed gangstalker, this disgusting wizened granny in red plaid, now tailing me N bound. Call it red substitution, where a red dressed Fuckwit swaps with another red dressed Fuckwit to seemingly surprise me with the continued red color coverage.

Yesterday, when getting off the bus in the evening, it was the same deal. A red and black checkered hoodie wearing Fuckwit tails me off the bus and then when I crossed the road at the crosswalk, why he enters onto the road in a jogging gait to catch up with me to cross the road at the same moment. I keep going, and for some reason he doesn't tail me along the next block, but lo, if there isn't a red beret wearing Fuckwit some 40' ahead of me.

1845h
Back to vacuum cleaner stalking, the second pass of cleaning outside my door in the hallway. They rarely clean the hallways, but they picked the moments when I was cleaning the dishes at the sink, and now, just as the PC booted up (with a high EMF spike from the power supply). And regular readers will know that I frequently encounter the "suck trucks", the street drain vaccum cleaner trucks, at anytime of year in this town. Past residences have also been known to engage in extra vaccuum cleaning and/or at strange hours of the day. All part of disturbing the ether IMHO with toroidal energies and here.

2215h
A read of Project Bluebird by Colin Ross, MD earlier, after tea and chocolate. As part of this abusive imposition, I am not allowed to read books from begining to end, but made to skip all over. Of note, the perps put on noise just when I was reading names of the investigators/abusers under MKULTRA and other like projects. Some of the projects were all about testing children, even to the point of being up-front about in the project description.

I am going to post this as I don't expect anything revelatory to erupt. These are the days of "dwell time", with only a modicum of activities and plenty of time to blog about details of the daily abuse litany.

Strange Bus Driver Behavior

2011-11-16T21:43:00.000-08:00

1800h
The bus drivers are doing more wierd things, and it is not the same driver by any means. Like yesterday, the driver pulled a mid-route stop at bus stop and had it sit there for two minutes with the back door open. No one got on, n one got off, and it wasn't a timing point location, just a plain stop-for-no-reason stunt again. This was about 100m S. of yesterday's same stunt, on Shelbourne street for locals, route #27, N bound.

And coming back from the First Feral Family house tonight, on the 1702h #28 bus, and lo, if they didn't load it up to some 30 passengers (read, gangstalkers) heading into downtown on a reverse commute. Totally absurd, as I would expect no more than 10 passengers on this Wednesday evening heading into the opposite direction of work commuters.

The "usual" freakshow, culminating in this grotesque negro woman who they hid behind three passengers in the transverse seats. And lo, if the three of them didn't move their heads forward and the fugly negro woman move her head back so her wretched kinky hair could be seen by me in a forward facing seat. All too familiar to me, these peek-a-boo games where a fugly Unfavored person feature is presented only partially with cooperation from other gangstalkers to do visual obstruction to bound the fugliness to a small visual window.

I was on crawl space activity today, getting the paints out of there so they can be taken by my in-town brother to the hazardous waste drop-off spot. And what an unreasonable grump he was earlier when I phoned him to help him do expedite the favor he is doing for the FFF mother.

2120h
Diamond honing stones seem to be a recent planted obsession, though I have to admit they do a better and much quicker job for sharpening knives as waterstones loose material after use, and need to be trued to be flat again. Past experience with waterstones is that it could take an hour or so to get a keen edge, and then the stone has to be resurfaced after that. I suppose this is all part of the perps' obsession over cutting edges and anytime I cut anything, from their loose protruding threads, plant material, paper or adhesive tape to food item preparation. And of course, their obsession over me shaving with a safety blade is legend in my perspective. And now I shave chest and arm hair each morning as part of their game/research as to cutting body hairs, or anything else for that matter.

It looks to be another night with the PC running and accessing the hard drive as it gets defragmented. It is taking ages to get one disk done, some 5 hours now, and only one third done. The perps woke me up last night to visit the PC and do some file deletions to then cause more fragmentation that is now being attended to. Their motto must be; if in doubt, do it backwards (so to make you do it over). All the extra PC lights and from other peripherials must be exciting times for the perps as running the PC all night is rare. Normally, only the cable modem has lights on all night, as it serves for phone calls and internet access.

Off to do more crawl space work tomorrow, as well as visiting the specialty tool shop for my second diamond hone. And I see that the 320x in 3"x8" is not availible here, which makes me wonder if it isn't another fuck-me gambit to not allow me to have three different diamond stones the same size. The one that I will get tomorrow was backordered for over two weeks, which I take to mean that I wasn't allowed to take two home at once. This is very common in Perp Abuse-land, where they want some "settle in time" for a single item when another similar one is to be aquired. Same deal on two shirts that I ordered; the same color and size in this one line of shirts was ordered six weeks apart. And even when I didn't want to order the same color, they messed with my email for an order change request and it didn't get changed, very much unlike an earlier instance.

And that is my typical vocabulary, as being "allowed", as it is clear to me that they have all the details planed, right down to which hand I hold an item in at each moment. They even screwed me out of doing my regular yoga 15 minute session this morning, zinging me in the ass with a muscle spasm to prevent me from doing side stretches to an extended leg to the same side. First a spasm on the R side to stop me after some 15 seconds when normally I go a minute or more. Then again on the L side so no stretching was done there. Needless to say, the noise from outside increases when doing yoga stretches, not unlike the class I attended until they shut it down this spring.

I am going to post this, just to ensure it doesn't get "forgotten" and putz about online for an hour or so before going to bed. I am getting some head hits these days, some kind of head sensation as if a pulse is passing through, though not painful like the brutality of 2002 to 2003.

Open Wide

2011-11-15T22:28:00.000-08:00

1820h
An 0900h dental cleaning appointment, and no dentist stop-by today, as she must take Tuesdays off. No matter, the dishy blonde dental hygienist was all over me while my mouth was open wide, scraping the plaque off my teeth. My gums are badly recessed, and that began in concert with the overt abuse onset in 04-2002, along with the densified magnetic field (1600 Gauss in 2009) my keepers have arranged around me. Another source of gum recession is ionizing radiation as in alpha, gamma rays etc., though I don't think this kind of irradiation is besieging me. I haven't had access to a Geiger counter come to think of it, so maybe this assumption is mistaken.

The dental hygienist was extra chatty today, though of course I couldn't respond much. As it turns out, she is from the Galicia region of Spain, born there in fact, and her parents emigrated to this city when she was six y.o. without knowing a word of English. Daunting to say the least. Interesting too, as this is a Celtic region of Spain, and the perps have liked to inject Celtic persons in my life, Welsh, Scottish and Irish. Ms. C of the story went to Ireland for a visit before the rain of abuse came on me. Some three years later my parents took a week's bus holiday there. And a Scottish born ex-wife as well.

The perps messed with the #2 bus and it didn't arrive per schedule. A woman was waiting for it too, and we ended up taking a cab together. All too cute, having me get in a light yellow vehicle with a green roof, seemingly not yet allowed to ride an a bright yellow Yellow Cab yet. The cab driver and this woman, both in the front seat, were remarking on all the extra vehicular traffic on the road (at 0850h), oncoming, turning in or off, and behind. I don't know why the perps have their shills expound on this obviousness, but as a 9.5 year long gangstalking victim, it travels with me all the time. Even another TI remarked on this last year when at a TI meeting. And my perp abetting mother goes on about all the vehicular traffic when in the vehicle, (me driving). Like WTF; as this is being mentioned it spells "arranged gangstalking abuse" to me, and here they are abetting in this insanity gone amok. And of course I never get to challenge them on this and state why there is this parade of color arranged vehicles around me. If that isn't mind control, I don't know what is.

Then back to this apartment, part way by bus, then walking the latter half of the way back. As usual, my ambulatory gangstalkers were about, though less than usual as it seemed they wanted to tail me with red dressed gangstalkers across the street, walking in parallel. And a rare instance of them not filling the bus up like they did later.. read on.

Off to the First Feral Family house where I am to rake leaves after lunch. The bus driver was doing the strangest things; stopping at a bus stop when no one was there and no one signalled to get off. He just stopped the bus there, opened the front door and had it sit idling there for two minutes, one stop short of his timing stop at Hillside and Shelbourne for locals. Then another instance of this enroute to the FFF house. The usual dude-stalk on the bus, as they like to ring me with dudes of late. Just so many dudes without day jobs in this wretched town. Funny how that is.

I raked leaves to the sound of at least two STRATCOM bombers overhead, though I didn't see any the one time I looked. The neighbors to the S. and W. started up their leaf blowers in near synchrony when I was out in the front yard. Funny how they hadn't been doing much leaf raking and then both of them "decide" (read, pre-arranged script), to do it when I was there. Both are retired and have all day to get on with it, but somehow this neighbor noise (and localized air vortices with associated EMF) erupt when I am visiting.

Also, the passing vehicle count increases when I am outside, as do the cyclists and walkers. One Asian woman has now set the record for back-and-forths, walking back and forth for no apparent reason; three times she walked in N-S pairs until she finally sauntered off. That she was in a redcoat and a white hat made it all the more ludicrous and arranged, unless she was totally deranged.

The perp excitement might of been that I was utilizing a new, blue plastic tarpaulin to rake the leaves onto, as it had been acquired two days ago by me and left in the garage until I had sufficient time to get to leaf raking. And I was wearing a similar blue polyester shirt, so one can imagine how the perps must be salivating over these fabrics and whatever commonality they have besides color.

Then the 1651 #28 bus into downtown, and what a farce it was with over 30 Fuckwits heading S. into downtown at this reverse commute time on a Tuesday. Even the commute buses heading in the opposite direction had less passengers. I got a rear bench seat after it had been vacated, and then they began to pack the bus with herds of 4 to 6 per stop afterward. I got a redcoat Asian male beside me for some 8 minutes, then a hiatus, then a red-brown leather coated young woman next to me for the latter 5 minutes of the 25 minute bus trip. The the quasi-biker dude in the leather jacket, who was first hanging back and standing at the exit for no reason, came and sat in front of me in the transverse seats, on his iPhone all the time. A near skinhead, only a 1/4" crew cut, and the perps managed to arrange the reflections in the windows so I couldn't avoid his image. The perps like to present male bikers to me, with or without their motorcycles. I have no idea what they did to me from 1956 to 1959 as the assholes deleted 99% of my recall, but it seems that bikers and motorcycles figure in this skein of abuse the perps like to create current day vignettes from, presumably to elicit abreactions that they remotely monitor me for, and are attempting to remediate. To the perps I say, go fuck yourselves, as I don't need to be fixed by anybody as I have been abused enough.

2220h
I am shifting my pictures and music libraries to another hard drive to make way for a solid state disk drive to be installed in the coming weeks. Tonight it was the pictures that I moved over, and it was the same freaking hassle as it was last night with the music, all 188Gb of it. The Move command in wretched Windows doesn't mean the same as in Unix; it still keeps the original copy and library links. So.... cut and paste games in Windows Explorer as well as deletions to follow, and to then go through the vexation of the viewing software, Picasa 3, to direct it to the new library location. After a number of faked or useless dialog boxes, and screaming at at the assholes at least 30x, I finally was allowed to persevere and get Picasa to find the pictures. Last night, it was the same vexation with getting Songbird to find the music library after I moved it and no apparent useful commands to do so. Then on a later boot-up it found them somehow.

Somewhere in there, the assholes zapped me and an overhead clunk sounded at exactly the same instant. As in, how can this be anything else but targeted abuse? And have I mentioned how much I like getting zapped, probably some 60 to 100x from unseen sources or means since this insane abuse train began.

Enough of the abuse and futility today, and time to go to bed.

New Scarf Brings on Extra Gangstalking

2011-11-15T18:06:00.000-08:00

2010h
The UPS parcel finally arrived at 1700h, plenty dark then. The UPS delivery man, same one as usual, seemed to need to stand in the dimmest light possible, standing away from the doorway, off to the side which was unusual given my past interactions with him. As this was the sixth parcel from STP, and hopefully the last in a while, it was the first one that was delivered to my door, all the others being picked up by me due to work considerations. And it was the first that was opened here, as they have all been opened up at my mother's place or even the farm when I took my lunchtime to retrieve a parcel there. And plenty of noisestalking was added to the event of opening the parcel too, plastic bags and all. I got next summer's SPF shirts, and two more mid-weight longsleeve undershirts which really serve as sweaters and are my new "go to" shirts, having been wearing stretch cotton T-shirts for the last five years. And I got a $5 black fleece scarf to fill out the order to over $100 to get me a !0% discount.

In the afternoon there was an imposed pressing "need" to launder the turquoise fleece scarf by itself, even if I did get delayed by an Asian woman at the washing machine on the first attempt. This evening, I headed out to the tanning salon at 1845h with my new black scarf on and got to the lobby, and lo, if there wasn't a three gangstalker confluence there, with the lead dude hauling a black tote luggage ahead of his seeming girlfriend, slinging a bag with red and yellow boxes in it. And I follow them out the door, and lo, if there isn't a negro dude coming at me, wanting to get in, and lo, if he wasn't also hauling a black tote luggage very much like the first dude. Like WTF; how can it possibly be a coinicdence that we have a black tote luggage gauntlet for me to pass between at the freaking doorway? I am constant dealing with Fuckwit gangstalker confluences at every doorway I egress, and here we have the Wheeled-Tote Gang setting me up to walk between them at the doorway. Never mind the negro, yet another new one, and from the Unfavored crowd that so likes to parade around me all day long.

Off to the tanning salon to get "lit up" and then to the LD store to load up on chocolate. I am plain exasperated with how much chocolate the perps have me buy and eat, and their relentless brown color games, skin colors included. Another dude confluence at the end of the aisle after I picked up the specialty shaving foam, another imposed "need" when I have two cans here already, one purchased this morning. One Fuckwit standing looking at the aisle end display pretending to being oblivious to being in the way, with other Fuckwits coming up behind him, and me passing between. Then at the Milka chocolate section, why a Fuckwit pair loitering there, some kid in a dumbstruck hang-dog pose and his apparent mother. A strange pair who didn't seem to be very engaged, and then took off when I got within 6' or so. There were they on my way to the shaving foam, and were still in place when I came back, giving them at least two minutes of shopping time, and still they couldn't decide. What is it about all these apparent shoppers being so dumbstruck, if not bending over to look more?

Then my dude posse when I exited, two ahead of me, one being the lollygagging dude ahead of me at the checkout (should of been long gone), and one behind me on plastic shopping bag stalking duty, doing his throat clearing all of a sudden. This was after they arranged for me to pass between two large bags of bread loaves as there is a bread bakery on the corner and seemingly, they were closing up for the day. The bakery staff member had her vehicle opposite the door with the sidewalk in-between, and somehow managed to place one bag at the bakery door to keep it open, and one bag was taken to the vehicle tailgate where she was opening up as I passed through the bread loaves gauntlet. And where have I mentioned breadstalking before? Here, on this blog, at least 30x or more.

Posting it late, 1800h, 11-15-2011

Post Chicken Run Tap Attack

2011-11-14T14:32:00.000-08:00

1135h
A visit to the local supermarket to get hot cooked chicken, aka Chicken Run, and true to form, plenty of gangstalkers getting my way, artfully arriving ahead of me or from behind aisle ends. And once back, the overhead tapping noise has started up while I put the groceries away and started up online. I had been online before I set off and no tapping noise, and now it is nearly continuous. As before, these apartments are separated by 12" of floor-ceiling and each apartment is carpetes, so how is this happening? And too, the seeming new upstairs neighbors (unlikely though) are doing exactly what the last ones did with the same striking instrument and noise pattern.

It was a two stop outing, the first to the ATM to deposit my paycheck and get $40 out to pay my daughter for the Ikea things she picked up for me. A two transaction event, and big news for the perp assholes who relentlessly gangstalk and noisestalk me over every financial transaction I make, from coin slots, to mailed checks to cash and debit card.

And lo, if the rain didn't start when I exited the building, not apparent when I put on my jacket and hat. I cannot count the number of times rain starts up just as I exit buildings. Naturally, I was caught without an umbrella, but there were plenty of red ones on the street, so someone was ready for rain. And even perverse bullshit like having two children, one with a red umbrella and the other dressed in red on top of the gangstalking father's shoulders. Fucking absurd.

Then a profusion of dudes in shorts still out on the street, more ridiculous clothing for cold rainy days, but nothing new in this controlled town.

And what is it about the phone system; I find a message on my phone and yet I was here at the time the call was made? This being a Saturday should mean that the call volume (network load) is substantially less and yet I am getting my calls blocked.

1320h
The tapping from overhead continues on and off. This is the post lunch digestive period, so I suspect they will continue as they resumed immediately after lunch. And I suppose, they have given up any pretense that this is a tradesmen at work, given the reptition and general continuance.

1400h
And still the tapping is going on as I read another TI's blog. Funny how that happens.

1800h
Back from a rare late afternoon tanning session. No reservations on weekends for whatever reason, but no wait as it "happened". And for the second time out of two visits that were re-started llate last week, a Fuckwit arrives on my heels just after I pass through the door. There was no one around to get that close to me in the amount of time between when I last looked and when this dude in shorts arrived. It had been pissing rain all afternoon, curiously just having stopped before I set off, and here is this dude in freaking baggy shorts. Same drill as last time, the Fuckwit taking a tanning room as the same time as I am. Dudestalk it should be called.

The salon attendant was very dishy and made sure to be leaning over when I said goodbye, allowing a peek at her ample cleavage. Funny how the cleavage theme seems to be so important of late, and in a week or so it will be something else.

The rain having just stopped before I stepped out of the building, as it seemed to be raining before I departed so I took my umbrella. But there was no need for it, so I carried it there and back unfurled. I have no idea what the perps' interest is in umbrellas and overhead shelters, but they do form a signifcant part of the gangstalking scene, and usually screw me out of using my very special Blunt Umbrella that I got shipped up from New Zealand.

And lo, if the assholed didn't let me watch my first movie on my PC after two years of attempting to do so, and having Windows Media Center getting sabotaged and lost. Finally, I get to see Frida, a show that I liked at the cinema (twice in 2003), liked the soundtrack enough to purchase it, and bought the DVD two years ago. It sat for a year, then was partially played for a half hour before "need" for dinner came on, and was never touched again. A first for the perps, letting me view a movie on my PC. Such are the constrictions as to what I am allowed to do, see, say or think, or in anyway engage in.

11-14-2011
A bout of indolence stopped this from getting posted when I had all kinds of time to do so yesterday.

Out and about with my perp abetting mother this morning;they had me frazzed while at Walmart and then again at a super-swarm at Fabricland, the third visitation in four months over these freaking pillows my mother wants to make. Finally, they were in, and I got to pack two of them around while my mother toted another one, and then she pissed around at the cutting tables and then a big checkout obstruction so they could put me between the redcoats while in line, and my mother finally paid (financial transaction) for them. The parking lot went from nearly empty when we arrived to nearly full when we exited, and it was a dedicated parking lot just for that store. Hopefully the pillow stuffing bullshit is over, though I am sure the plastic bag stalking isn't over yet.

And a red haired rude-dude in dressed in black at Walmart, doing the excuse-me-while-I-bump-into-you stunt, coming from behind. The fucking asshole knew there wasn't enough room to get by but just kept going, no eye contact of course. Why has this public rudeness suddenly erupted in this fucking town in 2002 when the harassment began?

And the public freakshow as well; fat girls/women are on a major gangstalking initiative of late, and today was no exception. The above Walmart and Fabricland gangstalking was at least 40% fat women, some dropping things to do their bend-overs in close proximity. The only woman worth looking at of the sixty or more at the latter store was a blonde woman with an infant strapped to her front, first doing a pose to the N. and then in partial aisle blocking mode at the exit to the W. Go figure.

A sudden "need" to take a piss came over me at the burger joint, just as I finished up on talking about sending my transcripts off to my mother. Not only do I get plenty of coverage of people in my way, or about to get in my way to cause me to stop and wait, but after the piss the same staff member dressed in black and white was loitering around as she had when I was on my way to the washroom. A fuck-all piss, that is, it was totally unneccessasry, and after the black-and-white staff stalk, why a huge fat blonde woman, at least 250 lb steps in my way, dithers around, and then leads-ahead of me to my seat. Just fucking absurd, as above; if I cannot stand the sight of fat people, large guts spilling out from males and the rest of the obeser parade, why is some insane agency hounding me for over 9.5 years over two countries and everywhere I go? Get the fuck out of my life, and tell me in person what your fucking abusive non-consensual human experimentation agenda is all about, then fill up my bank account bigtime.

Then at the mid-scale burger joint it was the due-with-ponytail on show in the next booth in my line of forward vision, interspersed with the waitress flitting back and forth with an identical ponytail. If I fucking loathe dudes in ponytails I don't see why my life has been torn to shreds in an international Fuckover Abuse Show that has now run over 9.5 years.

And I saw that the concrete and aggregate supply dudes were across the aisle at the burger joint. All in keeping with the redi-mix truck stalking I routinely get anytime when I am out. Next will come the shit services dudes I expect, as I get plenty of septic services/portable john service trucks and tankers around me for no seeming reason, save the perp's obsession over excrement color and the rest of their associations they seem to dwell upon and ensure that I get my fill of. And there is no reaso for septic service tankers to be downtown here where I live as it is on sewer, all of it, save the odd construction job with portable johns.

The the late model Jaguar sedan in silver-grey arrived across the street to be seen through the windows of the burger joint. Again, I don't know what their fascination over presenting Jaguars is, but it may have something to do with less plastic and manmade fabrics and construction, and with more leather and wood in the vehicle. Which also may explain the old-timey cars they like to put on, made long before innovations in plastic forming for the automobile industry.

I will get this posted before the brown van (UPS) service comes to deliver a brown parcel and have me engage in an financial transaction to pay for the tax and duty charges. No doubt timed for when I am eating chocolate with tea, as they already had me take a massive shit earlier. It is a Monday, and all manner of events are arranged with extra perp fuckery and insanity (theirs).

Shorter Work Days

2011-11-11T20:55:00.000-08:00

11-07-2011
1840h
This a Monday, and following a stayover at the First Feral Family house last night, brings on all kinds of extra harassment, noise and strange behaviours of others. It was a rare 0900h start, as normally farm work begins at 0800h, or when berry picking is on, as early as 0600h. And it was most strange that my four co-workers, including my supervisor, were wandering around in a semi-daze and not seemingly knowing what job to do. I pitched in and helped on bin repairs and then onto clean up, as the place is in semi-chaos most times. After a half hour of this, and no one telling me what to do, the potato washing job was on, and so I was on the outside after the washing to remove reject potatoes. These were from a 40' wide and 8' high mountain of potatoes that I had been clambering on four days ago to pull the huge blue plastic tarp over them as the one in place had split for some strange reason. Not every day does one clamber a small mountain of potatoes, but it seemed it was up to me at the time as my co-workers had "faded out", seeming to lack intitiave to get this job done as we were all pulling in different directions at the time.

Anyhow, one ton per truck load, and three truckloads on the day, quitting at 1540h, also unusually early. But as the work seems to be less, despite the boss saying that I could "have as much work as I wanted" last week. The topic of work, or lack thereof, is a big perp theme that has been consistent for the past 9 years or more. I have no idea what this is about exactly, but it may have some connection with the present day recession and the rampant job losses over the past three years. Don't know, and I don't understand why these significant themes are such a consistent perp issue.

11-08-2011
Still on with shorter work days, starting at 0900h. We didn't have enough time to complete the last run of potatoes for washing so we packed it in at 1530h, same as yesterday. Hmm... but with an extra hour of light in the morning why didn't we start at 0800h, the usual daily start time? I don't ask these obvious questions anymore.

Mainly, the job was potato washing of a truckload (one ton or so) the large mound (per above), as it seems this is the only activity on the farm, apart from repairs. Many of these potatoes are green, getting chlorophyll from being too close to the ground surface in this freakish delayed season this year. And a perp "insight" (read planted thought) was that the greenish tones were to emulate skintones of the green men I might have seen during the memory blanked years, 1956-59. Well so what; I don't know why the perps are on this green color binge of late, but it too seems to be a featured enough to suggest that it too might be an Unfavored color. Which begs the question, what color isn't Unfavored? Blues for sure, maybe violets and purples. Ask the Men In Black Fleece as the current day MIB's dress.

Two days ago it was a run of white potatoes that had plenty of rot in them, black and brown tones, and lo, if the perps didn't plant the notion that it was skintones of certain Unfavored races. Another so what as far as I am concerned.

A different set of freaks on the bus of course, taking it at 0815h, instead of an hour earlier. This is the kids and parents run, in keeping with the perps' insane need to plant children around me, sometimes going to absurd lengths. e.g three year olds on the bus at 1930h when they should be in bed.

That didn't stop them planting a negro woman next to me and her child on the bus this morning, my first weekday bus trip at this later 0815h time. (Yesterday I came from the First Feral Family house via vehicle).

And it is the perp season/current initiative to have me make typing mistakes and adding incorrect digits into my credit card number when making online transactions. An online transaction triggered a call from the firm to get the credit card number correct, and lo, if the incorrect digits weren't the very same ones they messed with when making an online transaction the next night. Exciting times in Perp Subjugation Unit.

Other perp sponsored activity has been to re-start me at the tanning salon, the last time I was there was August followed by some outdoor tanning. So... two gangstalkers were hot on my tail when I went in, and presumably they tanned in other rooms in parallel. Then to the LD store following tannign where they put on a male gangstalker on his blue cell phone handling the very chocolate I was going to purchase.He took a single bar ahead of me and then I picked a larger quantity as it was on sale. This dude was on his second reprise gangstalking, and I was also treated to the same ponytailed male apparent staff member in the same aisle doing the same thing (stocking the toilet paper) in the same location two weeks ago. I suppose, in the perp's world, there is an continuing after-effect from being under the tanning lights, and they wish to capitalize on it when I make a financial transaction following tanning. They also put on their best babe cashier at the LD store, I haven't seen her for at least six months or more. Then a cute and adoring babe in the elevator and so marks the opening salvo of tanning salon activity in winter. Soon, the thuggy dudes, freaks and other Unfavoreds will be populating the gangstalking scene following tanning.

And a blast from the past, one of the swim club members I knew until 1999 "happened" to stop by at the farm, but he was looking for the chicken farm down the road, with the same surname. And lo, if the assholes didn't totally blank me out as to what his name was, though he knew mine, and he didn't offer his, even when it was clear that I "forgot". So... I spent the next potato washing/sorting hour trying to think what his name was, or more like, the perps were dropping names into mind and I was rejecting them until some hours later when I was allowed to know it. Such are the travesties of living in a total mind-fuck environment. I had spoken to him many times, had visited his house as part of a swim club social, and even had a tour of his pottery operation, and somehow I got totally blanked out. Needless to say I am totally pissed at this cognitive incursion.

And what is it about the perps they need to fuck me over as to meeting deadlines? I applied for a three month Viticulture course at a college, and they sent me an email which indicated a letter was to come, and then I get it six days later and lo, if they didn't spring a deadline of Nov. 14, 2011 for admissions requirements documentation, aka transcripts. As Nov. 11 is a national holiday, and it occurs on a Friday, one can sense there aren't many business days between now and deadline, (writing this in the evening). So, on with getting the transcripts sent by courier, and even at that, they promise 3 to 5 days with courier service. I might make the deadline for both transcripts sources, but I had to re-submit one request to have courier delivery, "forgetting" about the national holiday, and that Nov. 14 follows on the Monday. And it seems to me that no real mail, save flyers, ever gets delivered on a Monday. One stream of cluelessness added on top of another, and all of it perp created and managed.

11-09-2011
Finally the farm work nonsense was ended today, partly by my instignation as the farmer's wife, and farm administrator, "happened" to come by after lunch when all five of us farm workers were milling about and wondering what the next job was as the farmer had taken off without giving us any direction. Or, at least, that is how it seemed, though one can be sure this was all stage managed to some extent, though some of the dialog and communications might not be totally scripted. Hard to tell.

We had just finished the last of the washing and grading of the mound of potatoes (per above) before lunch and that was all it seemed there was to do. The farmer did finally show up 10 minutes later and then got into an angry retort with his wife beside me, and I had to explain what he said in part because I had heard his same angry rant a few days ago. Later she told me that this outfit that won't purchase his carrots (50 tons of them) due to seeming new corporate buying interconnections accounts for 90% of their carrot sales. Ouch.

As I was talking to the farmer's wife about payday and the no apparent work or work plan, the others slowly slid out and by the time I got back to where the potato washing equipement was, why, there were all stationed in their places and ready to go with a new load of potatoes that were going to be re-washed by dumping them from their boxes. Like WTF; how did everyone know about this new job for the next few hours when there wasn't any apparent communication? Same thing in the morning at the end of coffee break; the Asian guy gives me a scoop shovel and says we have to help the loading of the potatoes where the farmer was loading the truck up with the tractor loader shovel at the potato mound. As we had bee working from this pile for the previous two days, just the farmer operating the shovel, how was it that our help was needed and how did it get communicated as they were some 100' apart? Like always, I contend that my entire life circumstances down to the last microsecond are scripted and the players all seem to know somehow without any apparent conventional human communication methods and over any distance.

The early afternoon consisted of me dumping four pallet loads of 50lb boxes (1,500lb) of nugget potatoes onto the conveyor line. Some were rotten, shrivelled or disfigured, so the concept was to run them through the washing tumblers and to the inspection station at the end, with no interim inspection like usual. And so when I began the task, the farmer's pal was 30' away in his red vehicle with the headlights trained on me for five minutes waiting for the farmer so they could go on a their odd drive-arounds that they usually do, kind of like mobile coffee breaks. The instructions were to dump them on the conveyor in a pile and let the washing tumbler even out the flow. And as these are small potatoes, there are many more in a 50lb box, so the inspection effort is substantially greater, per potato. It seemed that we were ramming them through again, not applying significantly more quality inspection which created the problem in the first place. And then the re-washed potatoes were put back in the emptied boxes, replete with mould and slimy potato remains, all to reinfect the just washed (and wet) potatoes. Doesn't make any sense to me, if one expects a better quality outcome, but as we have being doing this for various potato varieties and grades for the past month, it wasn't out of the ordinary. Though when one applies the perp perspective, who just love to have work re-done, it make somewhat more sense. The only difference this time was that any hope for better scrutiny and inspection was nonexistent due to the small potatoes that were in much more significant quantity. All too strange for me to consider this activity in economic terms, so there must be a perp rationale behind all of this seeming potato processing inanity.

11-10-2011
A busy day, and always a big perp event when transitioning from one lifestyle (working) to another (now, not working). And it started early, sometime when they had me jerk off sometime around 0200h, coming out of a sleep for the event, and really not wanting to complete. I get two to four ot these a year, with minimum sensation, so it is more comparable to "remotely influenced mastabatory rape" than a response to any kind of imposed horniness. That brought on getting up early (by their doing) to attend to laundry before intending to head out at 0930h. And at least 15 rage-fication stunts this morning over the smallest of events; teleporting crumb inundations, sending me to the wrong cupboard or drawer, have me open a cupboard or fridge and stand there dumbstruck because they deleted my intention from mind, and a few other regular games to rile me up. One can be sure it is a big perp day when the rile me up in the morning.

Then the assholes screwed me out of getting the bus, by running it two minutes early and temporarily pre-empting the bus stop I was walking toward by arranging a crane truck on the sidewalk that was lifting stacks of drywall up some four stories. So in other words, the assholes double fucked me over getting my intended bus; running it early (very uncharacteristic for the N. boung #27, 28 routes) and then arranging the bus stop to be unavailible and also pinching down the adjacent three lanes down to one with the ubiquitous dayglo flag girl.

That wasn't the end of overhead boom trucks/cranes, a very common gangstalking arrangement. No sir, there were at least three more such jobs on my travels today, not only constricting traffic down to one alternating lane, and never less than two boom trucks together, as that seems to be the minimum as of 2004 or so. The perps cannot get enough human activity close to the powerlines it seems, and arranged when I come by.

the bus to the First Feral Family house begat my freakshow as usual, this morning's star freak was the slouching dude in the red hat and the red pants and white top who later removed it to reveal a slightly differing red T-shirt underneath. It is just fucking hilarious to be hounded with red dressed freaks and fuckwits for nine years. But that abominable color arrangement wasn't the worst of it, as he was seriously tattoo-ed on his arms and neck. So.. I got to look at the freakshow out the window instead. Regular readers will know that I loathe the sight of tattoos, and the perps like to chase me down with gangstalkers with such self-mutilation features. Eyewitness reports from the 1950's place the infamous Dr. Cameron in Montreal examining "patients", (nonconsenual human experimentation subjects, including children) who had bald heads and tattoos on them to provide repeatable reference points on their heads. And of course regular readers will also know about the placement of male (nearly always) bald heads, aka skinheads, around me as part of the gangstalking milieu/parade. I too was in Montreal as a child 1956 to 1959, aged 2 to 5, and most of my recall has been wiped out from then by some means. Funny how I never, ever remember to ask my mother about what happened to me then and where I was,- mind control writ large IMHO.

I got my negro gangstalker on the bus again and they hid him mostly behind the lower deck bulkhead, and he even put on headphones over his head to limit the amount of his frizzy hair that I could see at once. And to touch on another Unfavored demographic feature, I now find tight or loose curly hair abominable to look at. And lo, if their aren't pics of military personnel stuffing negro, Caucasian and blind children in cages in the mid to late 1950's on the Indian Lake Project site.

And it was a big event for laundry over the day. Once I dropped off my mother at her dental appointment I took her vehicle to my place to drop off three new towels that had been laundered at least five times at her place to drive the lint out. Going back, I took the three regular towels (two of which that were laundered this morning) to get laundered at my mother's place as there is some residual scuzz on them I cannot get off in this apartment building washing machines. Then onto the farm to get the last of my work clothes and gumboots, only to find the three Punjabis that I work with were continuing working. That is how it goes in Fuckover World, getting the shaft every which way.

Then back at my mother's place I handwashed the breathable Blue Storm rainpants, then pre-soaked the fleece vest that I had kept at the farm. Back to pick my mother up at the dentist, along with the traffic constrictions and boom trucks along the route, and then to dine out for lunch. It was dishy blonde babe waitress time again, and I can never get enough of that. (Because they like to intialize me with such Favoreds, and then slowly filter in the dudes around me, this time it was two parties of cyclists, four in all. This restuarant is about the most unlikely place a cyclist would go for lunch, so it was mildy amusing to see these Fuckwits so out of place).

I took my towels to the FFF house to get them laundered as there was a sheen of brown scuzz that I cannot get off. Said towels were in my duffel bag that I took on the homebound bus later, and it was another absurdity of gangstalking excess; over 30 passengers heading into downtown at 1730h on the #27 route. The biggest freak was the Fuckwit with the bald head that was covered with a ball cap, but even in side view one could see that his head was extensively tattoo-ed. At least they put an interesting looking babe in front of me, the dude-force that normally encircles me is getting most tiresome.

On the bus I got the backpack shove, the asshole next to me pretending not to notice that his backpack that he wore was contacting me. Been there, done that, only a few days earlier.

11-11-2011
Day of the elevens, and here, Rememberance Day, akin to Veteran's Day, a national holiday. And in this controlled existence I lead, I went out for coffee with the former farm laborer co-worker who goes the extra mile to cover my tracks, working at the same places that I have, and with a seeming perfect confluence of life activities/conditions going on that the perps like; skin condition, divorce, debt, job firings etc. Currently she is taking a 9 month horticulture course, attempting to get job oriented training in her mid-thirties. I sometimes wonder if she isn't a morphover a certain (in)famous woman who seems to show up with regularity in the planted thought stream (and seen twice). And of all things, she came with cleavage showing, a never-seen-before appearence, way outside her comfort range as known to date.

And what might of been the events prior to going out for coffee with this obvious perp abettor? I started using my new towels last night, and this morning. The use of towels are a big perp harassment subject, and their propensity to spread lint onto all the other laundry is near legend for me. They are the same color of off-white as the last set, now duly stored in the closet after getting a more thorough laundering at my mother's yesterday. The new towels were laundered some six times to drive off their linting habit, and have been kept at my mothers for over four weeks.

Other perp prep for me this morning was to have me shave my legs last night, when normally I do this on Saturday nights and never on Thursdays until yesterday. My bedsheets that were laundered yesterday were slept on last night without benefit of any bedclothes, also an exceptiopn. The entire sleep/matress/ bedsheets color and laundered state is always a big perp consideration.

At the cafe: the "backup" stunt with the person in the next table with her back some 18" away and she and her party were speaking sign language for the most part. Which makes this interesting, as they were having a conversation simultaneously, but silently. Which suggests the perps are working on determining the neural/psychic energies devoted to words and concepts, separate from the aural component.

A vacuum cleaner outside my door on a this statutory holiday; fucking absurd for the little they clean this apartment building. But it is not the first time the vacuum cleaner stalking has erupted outside my door, or when I am in the hallway. One building arranged a 20% chance of there being a vacuum cleaning job for me to encounter on my way to my apartment.

And Songbird, a free open source music player is crashing in an unusual way; the tiles/windows are interleaved with other concurrent Windows applications.

Perverse news: Obama Barrack has teleported to Mars. I wouldn't be too surprised if this is true, from my dealing with telportations all the time in the form of missing objects, food crumbs (or even half teaspoon blobs) arriving from nowhere in front of me, and the daily litany of imposed adverse fuckery I am exposed to.

I am going to post this now, as blogs will be more a daily reportage, as there is plenty of spare time as no more farm work.

Adios to the Mexicans

2011-11-06T12:47:00.000-08:00

11-01-2011
It was the last half day of work for the three Mexican visa workers at the farm today. And in true insane-then-repeat perp style, we said our goodbyes at the back tent at 1200h where we were working together, taking down props, beams and posts underneath it. (The tent is at least 40'x60' and 30' high). But five minutes later they come back and say they are working until 1300h, another hour. Five minutes after this, they say no, they have to go, and so we say goodbyes again. Like WTF; who was giving them these instructions as no one came to the back tent to tell them, and the warehouse, (having an office and the general location of management personnel) was a ten minute round trip. Just more silly games with more of the perverse behavior where they somehow get direction from an unseen source.

And too, the perps like to have me under tents and umbrellas in small doses, so working for more than half a day in such circumstances was just peachy for them. I suppose there are color changes as well as no direct light as well, just too much for them it seems in their current level of understanding of how color affects me.

And at lunch, the farmer's wayward son is back together with his gorgeous babe girlfriend who I helped move out of their place at the end of September. Five months of daily bickering was way too much, so she moved out with the help of us farm workers. Well now, they are back together again, though not moved in together. And so I got to meet the gorgeous babe again, and she being friendly and all, we hugged, had a brief chat, and then she was on her way to lunch with the wayward son.

That she was wearing a light blue scarf with a black and white houndstooth coat wasn't too exceptional, as I get plenty of black and white outfitted gangstalkers. Later, I was allowed to be reminded that the scarf was the same color as this infernal shaving foam I got stiffed with today, used just this once this morning. Somehow, I got screwed into "thinking" I had extra white colored shaving foam when I didn't, so I had to draw upon the Nivea (white color, but smelly) two days ago, and then the Gillette gel this morning. The intervening day I used the shaving lotion I have at the First Feral Family house, also not the usual kind but bearable to use. Where the Nivea and the Gillette gel were for "sensitive skin", they didn't account for sensitive noses, and I was stiffed with the smell of the shaving foam for the rest of the day. Today was the day for a full-frontal shave when I hadn't had one yesterday, having stayed the night at the FFF house, and then off to work at the farm from there. It is always a big deal for the perps when I get screwed into breaking a routine, especially a daily one, and too, if it is shaving related.

But as I have long complained, the perps have a total fetish/obsession over shaving, shaving foam and its color, the nature of the blade inserts and if they have a teflon rub strip, the color of the handle and on it goes.

11-02-2011
A fat girl came help on carrot bagging at the farm, and I got to train her. Almost my height (5'11") and she was bigger than I was in volume, maybe over 200lb. She seemed to have Caucasian features but an olive skin color, so I couldn't really figure her out as to where she was from. Then she got to train another new girl (all Caucasian) who came an hour later, who then left earlier. All in keeping with the perps' games over information, and who and how it was conveyed, and then this time, the just-trained person trained someone else. A three chain learning linkage it would seem, never mind those who trained me and got me past the imposed adversity of the carrots dropping outside the bag and onto the floor.

Later, potato washing, red skinned ones that were loaded from bins into the truck. I was put on the indoor elevated platform where the final grading is done, next to one of the old-time Punjabis. The Fat Girl was put opposite to me, next to the younger Punjabi supervisor. I thought it was curious that I have done over 50 potato washing sessions in two years, and was never allowed to go up on the platform, being kept outside, and the first time that I do, why, the new person was arranged opposite me. Most curious.

I got called off the production line to then help out pulling nails and screws from the wood that was taken down for some of the props of the Haunted House. This seemed to be big deal, having me pull nails or else use the screw gun to take screws out of wood. The perps have a wood fetish going as well, so maybe this was part of it.

Earlier, as part of the farm agi-tourism, I and five other males got to move a dinosaur exhibit next to the swamp. It was some 5' high and on a steel frame, and it took five of us to heave it 8' along boards and plywood to a pallet where it could be picked up by the fork equipped tractor. In the frontseat of the flatbed truck that took me to the dinosaur site, there was a white plastic bag with food in it. I thought it mighty curious, and pulled it open, and it was dried tropical fruit from Trader Joe's. Like WTF, there is no Trader Joe's in Canada, so how did it get there and "happen" to be in the front seat of the farm flatbed truck? Many staff drive this truck, but none with US connections, so it was mighty curious. And too, Trader Joe's was one of my favorite places to shop when I lived in Everett and Seattle from 1999 to late 2002.

11-03-2011
A double negro gangstalking on the bus, and for the first time in the S. bound post-farmwork direction. One was front-most behind the bus driver, and the other was rear-most in the bench seat. And too, on prior occasions in the last two months, they have put on a negro bus driver. It is rare that they put on such a large negro gangstalker dispersion, the length of the bus effectively, as normally the perps cluster the negroes within 10' or so. Goodness knows the amount of perp preparation for any bus ride I make; for all I know they could of been practicing for weeks on populating the bus with the gangstalkers in various configurations and doing practice runs.

And I am quite sure they have the bus-bound gangstalkers in place at least an hour before I arrive on the scene, based on my observation of them pulling out gangstalkers an hour earlier than the end of a show, all to have the same assholes clustered around the outside exit all the while. As I have said before, public transportation is nothing more than a mobile gangstalking platform for the ongoing perp inanity/beserkness.

11-04-2011
A Friday, and one that I took off to deal with employment counsellor. The free time enabled me to get a haircut at my usual place, then off to the First Feral Family to do some driving for my mother who as previously mentioned, is a perp abetting quisling of the first order. I was driving into the box store region of town, named Langford on the maps. She wanted to get to the particular branch of a work clothing store, a national chain that also has some casual city wear as well. She wanted some shirts for my old-folks home bound father, the dementia act that continues even if he has broken character at least once. So it would seem the perps need to test me and my father concurrently on clothing/footwear from the same store at the same visitation.

At this same workwear store, I picked up steel toed gumboots as the farm work has moved from picking fruit and vegetables to hefting heavy pallets around, and of course, the perps can plant any rationalization they want. Not forgetting the gumboot research focus of the perps, having arranged for my last pair of Baffins to be stolen in a unneeded locker clear-out at the last farm, and a pair of cheapo gumboots were re-supplied by them, this in March 2011. And this new pair has a yellow sole portion, so no doubt that will accelerate a new round of footwear color games, especially now that the perps are making some advances on their yellow color research/placement/harassment games. That is to say, there are considerably more yellow color stunts going on, from more yellow colored vehicles (read Yellow Cabs, never here before this insane abuse started in 2002), to yellow colored gangstalker clothing, to more yellow on web pages and mail, not to mention even highlighter pen marks on one of my reciepts today. (To "identify the backordered item" said the clerk at the specialty tool shop I drove to next after the clothing was acquired).

Then at the tool store where I got skunked on buying two diamond sharpening stones of differing grades I wanted three weeks ago, why, I only got skunked on one of them, the other backordered as mentioned above. (Plus, the extra tense store clerk of my last visit never mentioned the backorder option). I also got some replacement earmuff pads only to find there is an extra 1/4" plastic mount with the pads on them which still fit my earmuffs, plus a nominal amount of acoustic foam. I pulled out the earmuff foam tonight and cleaned off the gunk the perps put in there over the past five years or so, making it seem it leaked from my ears and travelled uphill and staining some of the acoustic foam pad brown, of all colors. I soaked the pads in water which had some laundry detergent in it, so an all around perp event indeed, to add detergent cleaned foam that will sit next to my ears as I shut out the noise parade. Which, by chance (har, har) they have exploited with all manner of extra noise on tonight; the most loathesome noise of motorcycles and hotrods are being highly featured along with hallway babbling. I mention the fact of the laundry detergent as the perps also have a total fetish over that as regular readers will know.

And it has been a busy week for wasting time on evaluating PC cases, the enclosure for all the PC components. The perps have had me interested in various models, and each night a "for sure" decision has been made as to which one, and lo, if the next night it somehow falls from favor to be replaced by another model. And at times, the price is a consideration, then it isn't the next night, within reason. What a great diversion, playing PC builder again, and regular readers might recall the four months of this activity back in 2009 when I finally did order parts, one of which was a new case for the PC that became the one that my mother now has, containing most of my old PC internal components. This is in keeping with the perps abiding fetish of all my electrical items and the color, metals, and material composition of the components, especially circuit boards. So far, only black and grey circuit PC motherboards have been allowed by the sickos, but one never knows when the next PC burn-up will erupt and an emergency fix/acquisition brings a different, and possibly an Unfavored, color (read, brown, red, yellow).

Though, I do have PC upgrade parts on hand, the most expensive being a Solid State Disk (SSD) which will be installed with extra memory and a few other trinkets. Often, the perps like to arrange things to sit around unused, sometimes for years in the situation of the leather steel/safety boots acquired in 2008 and have yet to be used anywhere.

And as always, there are extra volumes of vehicular traffic on the road when I am out and about with FFF members. I noticed the perps were massing more red vehicles around me while mobile on the highway; four metallic maroon (same red) colored vehicles at times, plus others coursing from either side or the opposite direction. I recall the record today was six red vehicles at a single sighting, a rare event since the days of 2005 and 2006 when they had me surrounded by eight red vehicles in slower traffic conditions in my silver Volvo with a navy blue interior. (Today was a silver-light brown tint Ford Escape with a mid-brown interior). Exciting moments in perpdom it would seem.

And two separate instances of freakish (read, dyed) blondishness on males today. One was on pose duty with a ballcap and this sort-of ponytail of unnatural yellow hair hanging out the rear hole of the ballcap, and shaved 1/2" dark hair on the sides that I could see. Then after helping my mother, and when at the gumboot section, why, this dude in a green ball cap that matched the Dunlop gumboot green arrives, and a minute later, the unnatural blonde faux ponytail dude joins him in this ridiculous charade of pretending to help his pal when they weren't together in the first place. This isn't the first time that a strangely behaved dude pair arrives when I make a purchase decision. And even more symmetric was in 2008 when I purchased leather safety toed boots, a pair of males pretending to not be together kept coursing around the boot section immediately after I made a purchase decision then.

Onto the next unnatural blonde dude, this time at the next stop at the specialty tools store; a seeming new staff member, a Fat Boy, was on counter duty and made sure to keep walking past in his full extra yellow blonde hair. And somewhere in all that, after paying for the items, why, they put the same dude on to cross my path immediately after I left the cash desk, doing the look-backwards-while-walking-forwards routine as an excuse to get extra close. This happened with my mother only another 3' away and sitting down on the bench seat that was there. I have yet to connect why they keep hounding me with extra-obvious dudes, scummy and semi-scummy ones especially, and what it has to do with the ongoing scene of gangstalking me senseless every time I make a financial transaction.

And on the negro front, a less commong gangstalking occurence when making a financial transaction, they put on a 20 something girl with her pal, to buzz around me when in the aisles, and then making a repeat gangstalking only 6' away during when purchasing the items.

11-05-2011
A Saturday work day, and I got a phone call last night saying it will be a short day, and to start at 1000h. The rest of the small crew were there, which is common, as they seem to get instructions to start earlier. This "happened" at the last farm too, a special later start just for me.

And lo, if they didn't start out with a double negro gangstalker scene at the back of the bus this morning, one male and a female on the rear bench seat. They seem to be alternating having the female negroes sit at the front of the bus behind the driver, and now at the end of the bus where I hang out. The male negro got off in two stops but the female negro was still on the bus when I disembarked. Some 5 minutes later when walking the trail to the farm, why a female negro jogger in a black outfit with red trim was running beside a Caucasian male on my side of the centerline marked trail some 60' ahead. She was headed directly for me as he was running on the far left (my right) side of the trail. Then she suddenly stopped and ran back on the same track she was headed. I get these wacko 180 degree turnarounds plenty often, vehicular and ambulatory gangstalkers alike. I proceed some 200' further, about to make a right turn at a trail junction, and lo, if she wasn't running toward me again, this time on her right side of the trail and in compliance with the RH drive rule we all practice in North America. Then she passed by. Like WTF; taking two different sides of the trail and doing two 180 degree turns. And too, this was the same location the berry picking negro was lounging at when I exited the farm after a day's work there back in July this year (2011). So... I was suitably "negroed", as in having my negro gangstalkers on me when on the bus and afterward.

And I suppose it was a big perp day as it was the first that I wore my new steel toed gumboots, having dropped them off yesterday after purchasing them instead of taking them home and then bringing them in. The perps seem to be managing me to have new items come into my posession and bypass taking them home or even to my mother's place. Same deal with the recent rain pants, as I went to the UPS depot from the farm and came back to open the parcel at work, and hang them up there after first trying them out to much "crew" proximate loitering as possible.

The new gumboots come with a yellow sole layer in them, though not yellow tread. And there were plenty of extra yellow dressed gangstalkers on the homebound including the woman with the fugly red hair and a mustard yellow toque who sat beside me after a "warm up" gangstalking by a swarm of Asians. I evne got a ride to the bus stop from the E. Indian couple who have never given me a ride to date. Suddenly they became generous today and got me to Shelbourne for higher class bus passengers/gangstalkers. (And new shoes of a week ago, with a tinge of yellow thread in the black shoelaces).

10-06-2011
Sunday, no work, and a rare event of extra time putz about, putting papers away in files, consolidating files into better categories, and putting some files in the steel cabinet. All duly noisestalked while doing this; adhesive labels are always a big perp moment. This time it was nearly nonstop elevator noise, outside loud mufflered vehicles and overhead squeaking and pounding, somehow getting through 12" of concrete ceiling/floor. Even no laundry to do as it got done yesterday evening as I got off work in the mid-afternoon. I am due to head off the the First Feral Family house later.

And back to standard time, and the imposed perp standard practice of screwing with my watch so I cannot change the time. I will have to take it to a watch retailer as this has been what "happens" in the past. I get to see the person twice per year to reset the watch and observe them doing the same thing I was attempting to do, except that it "somehow" works for them but not me.

A leg shave last night, also a big deal for the perps the next day. I am quite sure there will be extra gangstalkers on the bus later, as it seems they do like to flood public transportation with their wackos.

Other news on the food oils front is that the perps are allowing extra complexity, up to four different oils/oil bearing foods at breakfast now; Edo's oil blend, flax seed, hemp seed, coconut oil to add to the coconut butter which has strangely become too dry to spread. All too exciting for them no doubt, and they even have begun to let me add Edo's oil after dinner now, though not consistently. And here we are, some 9.5 years of this insane abusive and deranged harassment, only now dealing with my food oils intake.

Enough of the banter, I shall get this posted now to get it read, for all that do.

Potato Mush

2011-10-31T20:22:00.000-07:00

10-25-2011 I am wearing new shoes acquired via my newfound "habit", now in its fifth time, of getting clothing that is heavily discounted at Sierra Trading Post dot com. This brought on, major extra attention on the bus headed to the farm job, double the number of "regulars" on the bus at 0715h.

And my co-workers were buzzing all around me and couldn't help but getting in my way at every turn, especially while dealing with the rotting pumpkins in the bins and sorting them out. See below on why so many pumpkins are going rotten.

And re-washing packaged potatoes again, so many of them are severely mushy as they get tipped out of their 50lb boxes onto the conveyor line where I am to be picking out the most rotten ones, leaving the rest to be graded down the line.

10-26-2011 A run-down attempt with someone starting their red pick up truck from a stop just to get me in the intersection, the Fuckwit looking at me and pointing his finger at me while making the corner in front of me. Never have I seen someone so deliberate in getting in my way on a walk signal before, as the Fuckwit could of turned earlier, but chose to initiate his right turn as the walk signal turned on.

A payday; my check "forgotten" while everyone else got theirs, handed out by the farm administrator at the carrot conveyor line. Then, about an hour later, she came back while I was beside the clattering potato washing/packing equipment. This does fit the pattern of isolating the circumstances and location of when an event of perp interest occurs to me, and having it arranged elsewhere, especially with background noise.

10-28-2011
Alternating potato re-wash with bagging carrots. Plenty of rotten spuds and mush to deal with, never mind the rain for most of the day. A way to have me take my rain coat on and off at least 8x, and having me wear these wonderful Blue Storm rainpaints, also inside for a 40 min. spell while bagging carrots. By mid afternoon I took them off as the sun was begining to peek through and the rain had abated. So.. at various points, some 5 kinds of blue that I was wearing, in various combinations. Not to mention the extensive brown cardboard box handling and getting them thrown at me again. I have never encountered so many blithe and belligerent action (long form for saying "accidentally on purpose") in all my life, just throwing a carboard box behind them without looking knowing that I was close by and moving about well within range. I don't get it; the first order of throwing something is to make sure that no one is in the way. Seeming a lost concept at this farm work, unless of course this entire gig is scripted.

Double negro day on the 0715h bus, as they haven't shown in weeks. One in a day-glo yellow toque near the front, and at the next stop the crotch-wide-open negro construction laborer (a repeat from last time) in brown overalls The second one needed to re-tie his boot laces for some reason, getting him in the "crapping pose", (a favorite perp pose while seated but leaning forward for no apparent reason).

10-31-2011
I had better get this done or it will go on for weeks. A bit of a surprise, as I thought the farm job was to end on Oct. 31, but no, the farmer said "as long as you want", which I cannot take literally as I really want to take December off if I am to go for three months of classes in Penticton starting in Jan. 2011.

I finally get it; very mushy rotten potatoes for re-washing (after being packed into 50lb boxes two months earlier), and even splatter that got on my clothes. It was to be a big potato washing day as it is the last full day for the three remaining Mexican farm workers, but lo, if we didn't go pumpkin picking for an hour. And there were very many rotten pumpkins there too, as they didn't cut the green stems before the plant died down and the rot translocated along the stems and into the pumpkin. Funny, the farm I worked at two years ago did the same thing. Then it dawned on me that the underlying theme is rotting, or composting vegetable matter, whether it be pumpkins, potatoes, and latterly when on the packaging line, carrots. The decomposition of live matter has some unique properties the perps are looking for via my interaction, being kept in a densified magnetic field as well as mind controlled down to everything I see, hear and think. And I have mentioned the perps' exasperating interest in composting leaves and garden waste before. Also, Ms. C of the story did her Master Composting Certificate during the dating days of 2000 to 2003.

Getting Oranged

2011-10-26T22:38:00.000-07:00

10-18-2011
We were putting two tons of carrots through the conveyor that feeds off the truck and then the boss interupted carrot washing to go pumpkin picking. What can I assume is "orange referencing"; having me see and handle two crops that have orange colored vegetable matter. Later in the day, I got to "experience" the carrots as dug up by the implement that the tractor tows with a conveyor to take the topped carrots to an accompanying 5 tonne truck. No riding the machine for me though, I was the one walking behind the carrot digging machine to pick up the ones it missed.

10-19-2011
And carrot bagging (packaging) is a big job this month, not having worked this farm in October. It takes place in the unheated warehouse and there is a 12' conveyor that runs on demand and intermittently, with the carrots loaded from a bin that is set on the hydraulic tipper by a forklift. Typically, a large flood of carrots is dropped onto the conveyor from the bin, the conveyor is run to distribute the carrots full conveyor length, and then stopped. Then personnel on one side feed the four scales with selected carrots, loading a tipping scale tray that can take up to 5lb of carrots. Another person is placed oppositely and next to the scale and when the scale needle reaches center, he tips the scale tray contents into a plastic packaging bag. There is an art to it so carrots don't fly off the tray if it is tipped too fast, and also, if too slow, then the carrots will more likely criss-cross in the bag. And too, the carrots are straightened out by rolling the bag on an adjacent table surface. In other words, lots of poly plastic bag handling, as they come from the packaging suppliers in boxes of 1,000. And yes, I get more co-workers getting close to me or making more noise or talking more whenever I am recharging the plastic bags as I extract them from the box.

Then outside later to do a re-wash of packaged potatoes, returned from customers apparently. But as the perps are totally beserk over anything that comes from a brown cardboard box, this is primetime for "browning around" as I call their insane obsession over this color. So, in other words, they get to study the potatoes going through the conveyor and washing for a second time, and then get re-packaged into the re-used cardboard boxes. Some runs are very rot prone, and some aren't. In the former case they have me extracting the rotten ones from the conveyor which are then tossed into an adjacent bin. When there are few rotten potatoes, they have me ferry the emptied boxes from outside where the conveyor feed is, to inside where the final inspection, grading and boxing takes place. All that inside-outside brown box handling is just perp heaven for their insane fuckery games.

10-20-2011
Carrot bagging most of the day, with a half hour outside session to grade potatoes being re-washed.
Then around 1630h, we go out to get 17 bins of pumpkins, many were rotten, and it does seem to be an (arranged) problem, as they didn't pick them soon enough and the stem rot got inside the pumpkin even though it looks OK. Same thing "happened" at another farm two years ago, a seeming purposeful too-late pumpkin harvest, and we had to go back in the cooler and take out the rotten ones. But as the perps do love to arrange rotting fruit and vegetables, which is likely related to their insane interest over composting, now about to enter its fourth year of my direct involvement, starting with the raked-up leaves at the First Feral Family house. And I even get extra noisestalking while handling the rotten pumpkins, which suggests the entire process of decomposition of any live organic matter is of intense interest to them. And don't get me started as to what it might mean, as I am looking to my readership for some suggestions.

And what is it about mid-blue air compressors being arranged around me? The 5' long x 2' wide shop compressor was pulled outside of the workshop for a few days in the sunshine and arranged to be around me having lunch on a nearby pallet stack.

And what is it about the boss on the re-wash potato conveyor feed, who makes sure he is extra careless and waves the cardboard box that they were in, making an extra flourish to get the box closer to me on the opposite side of the conveyor? I took another cardboard box in the face the week before, the supervisor not looking at where she threw the just-assembled box, readied for a potato washing run.

And the props mechanic, had his 8 y,o, boy at work all day, and not only was the kid doing his gangstalking thing, but "found" this ridiculous tricycle that has been hanging around at the farm for some unknown reason for the past two weeks, and rode it around the warehouse for an hour or more. Not only is the forklift zinging around, but so are the motorized pallet jacks. Like WTF; why would a parent place their child in apparent unsupervised danger while also making the kid look like a total retard, as he was way too big for it. Like I contend, the whole scene is scripted, and there was no danger as it was choreographed to ensure he didn't get a fork from the forklift in the chops while loitering around on this absurd tricycle. This was the same kid that came to hang around me wearing an orange sports jersey the previous week for no reason whatsoever, looking like some vacant retard. When I saw the kid with his dad in the tractor some 20 min. later, no orange jersey on him.

10-21-2011
A mid-day start after doing some phoning from home, researching the value of taking vineyard laborer training, my possible 2012 activity for three months. A 1300h start at the farm, first bagging carrots, then a sit-around as no one knew what to do. Then a short (less than 30 min.) re-wash one pallet of potatoes.

Then it was to be pumpkin washing, but no, it was pumpkin picking.

Then fence repair job, where every one seemed to know what the job was, and I tagged along as no one told me. (No such thing as crew briefing sessions at the farm, all hearsay like instruction). Pliers came from nowhere for everyone but me. A roll of fence wire had to be found, then cut in half down its length, and it was erected above the existing fence wire, as some members of the visiting public to the Halloween exibits decided to do a little vandalism on the side.

I was working with the Mexicans as dusk came on, and just as we finished, lo, if two vehicles with headlights on, didn't arrive, and of all persons, it was the E. Indian tractor driver from the other farm I worked at in the past four years "showed up" and said hello. I was fucked into being totally dumbfounded and only said "hello" in return. Like WTF; he has nothing to do with this farm, works at least five miles away, had nothing to do with me while I was there (except steal my raingear and wear it a few days later), and here he "happens" to arrive at this very obscure location just as I finish up on a job. And have I mentioned how crazed the perps are when I finish a task, putting on noises, and disrupting events, often forcing re-work as something was "forgotten" and the notion of completion was premature? Many tens of times.

There were also some E. Indian visitors earlier in the day, the supervisor's daughter and niece. So I suppose the perps were attempting to get some kind of E. Indian skin color referencing or something, and wanted a "victim tour" by another known E. Indian from another farm in dusk onset conditons. Very bizarre this person "showing up" at this time when he would of finished a day's work at the other farm. [Later, I asked the boss about this, and he didn't say why the other farm's tractor driver "happened" to arrive at his farm in an obscure non=public location].

10-22-2011, Saturday
Post Friday night farm visitations to the scary haunted house exhibit they have. First farm job was
garbage pickup in the rain, wearing my new breathable Bluestorm Latitude 38 rainpaints. I cannot say if the "breathable" part was working, as the perps wetted my chest anyways. The perps got me obsessed over the garbage, and picking up some very small pieces that I would of ordinarily left behind.

It was to be parking duty for the public events, but as the rain was off and on, there weren't many visitors. So.. back to carrot bagging, carrot washing (the load that sat on the truck for two days, in mid job), and then clean up.

Orange color games that were most noticable were the farmer's grandkids roaring around in an orange colored dune buggy, hanging around me for no reason, circling me, or doing 180 degree U turns in front of me. Earlier, they were also heavy on ambulatory gangstalking while I was picking up garbage, and seemed to have an unerring knack for "showing up" when I was walking between venues.

Another Orange Event was packing one corner of a 10'x10' orange colored square canopy
with three other males, two Mexicans and one Asian. It was packed some 500' or so to the orange pumpkin patch where there is a public pick.

10-23-2011, Sunday
The weekly leg shave last night, getting delayed until it was midnight; the possibility of a new PC case beckons, and that kept me busy online. Three things I want in a PC case; air filtration so no dust buildup on fans, quiet, and a handle on top as these things are heavy. The latter feature has never been on PC cases, save for one recent example, and will likely involve getting someone to modify the case. But as PC cases aren't cheap by the time I pay someone to re-build it and add in the 256Gb SSD I recently acquired, it just may not happen. Such are the machinations of my tormentors, building up a "need", sometimes for three or more years, and then poof, it cannot be done. And of course, the "need" will re-surface later, all to continue this litany of coveting they like to plant on me.

Other items can be purchased on a whim though, no research or coveting, and while not always true, can be useful items I use every day.

A busy day at the farm with over 3,500 visitors, and I was on parking duty, directing vehicles and sorting out vehicular cluster fucks as the tractor pulled wagons, aka hayrides" were also part of the event. And with my newly shaved legs (under my long pants) and all those steel vehicles passing me by at close quarters, it was likely a huge perp event. As were all the dudes wearing baggy shorts at this time of year, not to mention the litany of male Unfavoreds/freaks/gangstalker themes; the gut strut, the skinheads and the waddlers.

Other farm visitors to fit the Unfavored demographic profile were the negroes, a father screaming at his child, and the ridiculous wheelchair act. They drop off this person in a wheelchair some 500' from the main activities, at the pumpkin picking field. Then he wheels back to the way he came to the events tent for a few hours. Then he comes back, seeming by himself and parks himself and wheelchair in the path of the tractor pulling the hayride and I warn him. So then he moves to the other side of the road and nearly impedes an outgoing hayride, it passing by within one foot. And given the 15 min. of this loiter time, I reckon is was yet again, another perp prop/gangstalking theme of placing wheelchairs and their occupants around me. And have I not complained of excessive numbers of wheelchairs as part of the gangstalking for the last 9 years? Many times, and if I cannot stand the sight of wheelchairs, I don't see why it is anyone's business by my own. And why does this theme repeat, as one of many, as part of this insane reign of abuse I am subjected to by this covert army of psychopathic assholes.

Before going to the farm, a former co-worker came by to have coffee out, so not only did I have extra brown liquid in me, but I also had an extra dark brown pastry. As always, in public locations, the swarm starts up and got to be near crush conditions at times, some of the gangstalkers wearing dark brown clothes. And lo, if they didn't put a fugly negro woman who was back and forthing from inside to outside and then intersperse her visage with some blonde babes. Always this game of putting on the babes (a Favored demographic group and unlikely to have subconscious traumatization associations for the three years they wiped my memory when aged 2 to 5) to mix with the Unfavoreds.

This former co-worker with whom I remain in contact, her contacting me more than the other way around, is the same one who was working at the farm last year, and then followed me to the second farm I worked. Now she is taking horticultural training. I sometimes wonder if she isn't a morphover of someone else I know who was rather large back in my Seattle days of 1999 to 2002. There is just too many oddities that fit the perp harassment themes; married now getting a divorce, no children, psoriasis skin condition for more skin tone variance, a fat girl, and being extra "friendly".

Later in the evening, I drove to the airport to pick up my mother who arrived back from the UK after two weeks there with my out-of-town brother. Just arrived flight passengers are a big gangstalking event, and of course the sickos were out in force, closing in on me while I waited in a public airport. The dude with his hand on his crotch opposite me in the seats was the most outrageous act. Second in terms of absurd was the Fat Family, at least four of them sitting in the seats with one of them, the orange T-shirted Fuckwit, doing regular patrols for me to admire his ample girth, his infernal brown colored short and flipflops, this being October 23 in the Pacific Northwest.

And is it strange that the dudes doing the gangstalking parade as waiting family for incoming flight to be standing at the luggage carousel all by themselves with no apparent family nearby? It seemed to be a big excuse to get the Fuckwits closer to me than I would ordinarily of allowed.

I made salsa from the green tomatoes my in-town brother left at the FFF, he scoffing all the red ones under the guise of "looking after" the place while our mother was in the UK. And as I worked through the insufferable blender follies of what part fits where, the next door pressure washing noise started up at the same moment as getting the blender to finally work.

I returned home via the city bus with salsa in my pack, in two vessels, one glass, one plastic. This seemed to bring on a big gangstalker crowd for a 1600h bus into downtown. I got the big girl gangstalker treatment. First a hefty girl next to me on the rear bench seat, and the very big young girl standing 2' away. The hefty one left after 5 min. and the very big one took the seat, sitting next to me, and nudging me all the more. I have never seen a young girl with a fat middle before, and no, it was not a pregnancy, and wonder if it wasn't a prothesis, as the perps have done this before.

I picked up yet another Sierra Trading Post parcel this morning, and it contained a mid-blue long sleeved shirt. And lo, if I wasn't blue tested with the same hue for the rest of the day; as gangstalker vehicle color, and on at least 15 gangstalker. Not that I was wearing this color blue today, it is just that I had received the garment today in a brown cardboard box.

Lightscribe is getting hacked tonight; cutting two DVD's of my mother's UK pics, and lo, if Lightscribe first didn't "fail", then the next try it spent 3 minutes of supposedly etching the text, and lo, nothing. Then next time it worked. One more disk to go, and twice it "failed" to etch the text and succeed the third time. This had always been working fine before, with no software or hardware changes and now it suddenly craps out. All in keeping with less pretense of a mistake, and now blatant obstructive incursions.

10-26-2011
I am late getting this weekly blog out, and am busy with pondering my next PC case as well as the continuing farm work.

Carrots and Potatoes

2011-10-17T22:56:00.000-07:00

10-11-2011
A Tuesday, and farm work was mainly inside due to rain and seasonal workload.

It was carrot bagging, then potato washing outside sending packed potatoes back through, then back inside to manage the cardboard packing boxes. A lunchtime trip to UPS to get parcel using the throbbing mufflered crew van, and bringing on a huge amount of vehicular gangstalking, color arranged. The parcel had a new pair of breathable fabric rainpaints in it, and I opened it up to try them for briefly, then hung them up. It is always a big perp moment when I put on clothes, especially briefly, and especially new ones out of the brown cardboard box. The two Mexicans were beside me with additional victim touring by the Asian and Punjabis some 10' away. Not to worry, the unused rainpaints are now hanging up at the front door so everyone will pass them by every day. This is a rare first, recieving a new garment at work and leaving it there while the other two items in the parcel were taken home

10-12-2011
A leg shave last night, the first i two weeks, an unusual delay of a week, seeming for the all-important event of me using a Wilkinson Sword razor blade, a disposable 3 bladed head. Major concurrent hallway noise while shaving, this being a huge perp event.

On the farm, carrot bagging inside, picking raspberries outside, then a shovelling and raking gravel job, the crush kind, not round edged river run. As always, the perps have an intense interest in me being exposed to soils, gravels, sand and rocks from other locations, and this is all part of their fun. This area was being readied for a children's railway ride, a small circuit of no more than 60' long.

Another impossible 30+ passengers on the bus at 1838h, headed into downtown. A three negro event, one being the bus driver, the third time he has showed up on my evening bus runs, at differing times. Then this one negro sat one seat away while I was on the rear bench seat, and then a few minutes later and for no reason whatsoever, the Fuckwit sits next to me. Then about two minutes later he moves again, this time away, and is sitting on a portion of each seat. All the time he has this backpack on and leans forward in the "crapping pose" I have come to know from many other Fuckwits in my proximity. Totally bizarre behavior to say the least, and from whom does he get his direction and how? Well, after seeing many of these similar bizarre eruptions, I have come to conclude the perps are sending text messages directly to their visual cortex, and the gangstalker reads them and acts according to the instruction. It cannot be a coincidence that so many of them are looking upward for no apparent reason and then change their posture, postion or whateve their masters command. All the more silly, as these quislings are led to believe they are special, and too, their behavior can be altered without their knowledge if the perps chose to do so, and also, there is direct voice to skull technologies that have been around for decades. I have sometimes recieved an unequivocal "voice" that is speaking to me about something relevant and germane to the present circumstances. Fortuneately I don't recieve these transmission routinely, or as an abusive treatment as many other TI's complain about.

10-13-2011
Getting my fill of orange colors today; bagging 5lb of carrots in plastic bags in the morning, then another hour or so after lunch, and then picking pumpkins in the afternoon. The flatbed trucks drive on the field, and we farmworkers, including three Mexicans, throw them up to the waiting worker who puts them into bins. I was in both roles, pitcher and catcher. Lots of pallet play time too, another perps obsession, as nearly everything arrives by pallet, and it seems the perps want to get a handle on the pallet wood to loaded objects/foods interaction energetics. I cannot count the times they drive pallet loads around me in vehicles, almost as many as the ladders I get from Ladder Patrol.

Other big perp advances were to let me use a knife to spread the coconut butter and jam on the breakfast 6" tortilla. I had been putting them down with a spoon in a blob on the tortilla, and then folding it up to contain it while eating it. This latest "advance" changes the game some, as I spread the coconut butter, then the jam on top of it and roll it up to eat, hoping nothing leaks out the end. (No such luck; a blob of coconut butter came firing out two mornings in sucession.) This means no folding, which was a major problem with the gluten free organic corn tortillas, as they would break at the fold. I had been using gluten wheat tortillas as this was the only kind that could take the folding and not split along the fold line. And for at least the past 10 months this had been the system, and smaller foldable non-gluten tortillas could never be found in the grocery store. The closest I came were large format rice tortillas which could take being folded. Another major change in the "breakfast cuisine ecology", and it took almost a whole year to be allowed to change it. The addition of a knife to spread the coconut butter is a HUGE DEAL for the perps, allowing extra contact from a steel object. And have I mentioned how beserk they are over knife contact, e.g. cutting food with a knife? Hundreds of times in the past 9 years of this insane abuse.

10-14-2011
Keeping yesterday's orange and red color themes going, it was bagging carrots till noon, then picking raspberries, then picking strawberries, then out to yesterday's field to pick gourds, mostly orange in color, though some were yellow, or light green.

And what is it that drives the perps so often to have someone's shadow cast down on me? In the field, especially now with the low sun at 1600h and later, or even at lunch or coffee breaks. My coworkers have this unerring knack of standing around to block the sun and have a shadow cast down on me.

And what is with the bus service? Still some 30+ passengers on a reverse commute direction at 1800h. Yesterday was the same, except later, at 1900h, a Thursday no less.

10-15-2011
A father-son dust up this morning, with the father looking to land punches even if his son broke his jaw last year in a similar bout. This time, there were two Mexicans and at least three other adult males intervening to prevent real damage to either party. This had been brewing for weeks, if not months, and the loathing is as palpable as it is mutual. At least they got it over with before the public arrived for the pumpkin festival.

I was on carrots bagging, then out in the field to pick gourds into the early afternoon, then I got the call to help out at the public event directing traffic and ensuring the miniture railway crossing was all clear when the train came. And lo, when I first started this vehicular traffic directing job, a farmworkers kid who had been on the stalk for the prior week, didn't arrive to hang around me for no reason and was sporting an orange hockey jersey. And lo, if he didn't join his father in the tractor cab of the hayrides that routinely passed me by, not wearing the jersey anymore. All for some kind of color concordance/testing I suppose, as I was decked out in a dayglo hi-viz vest for the afternoon.

10-17-2011
A Monday, and a day off too, after working Sunday for four hours on parking at the farm festival that is going on for the three weekends prior to Halloween. (A corn maze, a miniture railway, hayrides, a haunted house and some other theme park like props, including a 20' high Cheops replicate). And as usual, it is a day of high harassment and relentless jerkarounds, both cognitively and orchestrated externalities. And a doctor appointment too, just to add to the perp excitement/disruption/fuckover demands.

And what is with service personnal being so grim and evasive today? The normally chipper and friendly counter person at Purolater was rather terse for no seeming reason. The saleswoman at Lee Valley tools was positively grim, then again the woman at the deli counter of the local food market. Then the doctor was putting on his best grimness for no seeming cause, more terse than ever for crissakes, and calls him a professional still. Was this some kind of "mood matching" after making me grim from the jerkarounds I got: went to two wineries to find someone in the vineyard operations to ask about a viticulture course program and its utility in their line of work and got skunked on both in finding anyone; closed and then "lost" due to imposed befuddlement.

There were all manner of provocations first thing this morning to get me severely riled up, probably due to the fact that I stayed at the First Feral Family house by myself, a rarity as my mother is away in the UK. The fact that the bedsheets and blankets are different colors is important to the perps, as is mattress composition, and who knows what else. That I am eating my usual breakfast that I have at my place while at the FFF house is also a new event, having purchased the food last weekend. And of course, the perps routinely like to have me transfer food from fridge to fridge, either direction, mine in this apartment (steel wire shelves) and that of the FFF house (glass shelves). As far as I can recall, no food has made a round trip between fridges, but I am sure this will "happen" before long.

The provocation intensity was way up this morning, as was my "reaction" of instant rage. Stunts like sending me to the wrong cupboard or drawer, burning the onions in the frypan (I have never, ever burned food in the kitchen before), not turning off the burner (a perp Fuckover classic, and a new event that erupted some 8 years ago), over 30 small dirt clods arriving by themselves to force a sweeping of the kitchen floor (a frequent perp event, though rarely to they have me sweep floors apart from a past janitorial job).

Anyhow, time to call this one a posting for the week and get myself off to bed to start farmwork in the morning.

All Carrots Day

2011-10-09T22:08:00.000-07:00

10-03-2011
A Monday, returning from The First Feral Family house to start work and my overnight bag with its used face cloth in it was at the farm the whole day that I bagged, and participated in the carrot unloading from the hopper truck and the conveyor line work. One can say I am sick of the sight of carrots, though in perp-land that counts for nothing, as they are on a major push to find out why I don't like the color orange. Don't ask me, as my recall was deleted almost entirely from 1956 to 1959, and the subconscious traumatization associations remain. Same for red, yellow, brown. Not my problem, so why in the fuck am I set up for over nine years with all these dumbshit arranged games over colors, not to mention gangstalking and being kept in a rage-ified state due to constant torment?

Amanda Knox walks free after four years in jail, and her statement was wanting her life back. Try nine years of this fucking abuse, being the mind-fuck victim that gets circulated to all manner of stunts, and gets rammed into doing farm work, just so loud noises can be arranged to erupt each time I touch a carrot, pick a squash or anything associated with plant harvesting, pruning, root digging and the rest of it. More bizarre than Amanda herself, but it is ongoing and relentless.

10-04-2011
More bagging carrots, then conveyor line work on unloading carrots, then raspberry picking (with a fake-out for strawberry picking at first, which meant that I had my knee pads on, not really needed for raspberry picking). After lunch, the reverse; readied for raspberry picking I get diverted to strawberry picking, this time the reverse, getting caught out strawberry picking without my kneepads on. The carrot washing again, then carrot bagging.

And these are plastic bags we a putting the carrots in, and have I said how absolutely beserk the perps are when I handle, touch or even look at objects of plastic? Maybe hundreds of times, but it continues; I get to open the brown cardboard box of 500 plastic bags, and then get to pass a half inch thick of them to one carrot bagger who then hands them onto the carrot bagger who made the request. (Naturally, the 5" deep box of plastic bags is kept near me on the carrot bagging line). And too, there are bale bags, larger plastic bags to hold 50lb of 5lb bags, and lo, if the E. Indian handling the bale bags isn't flicking them to get them open when all he has to do is to peel them apart as they have ventilation holes cut in them. (Also good for scads of chads to flutter and fall about).

I stopped work at 1700h, got the 1730h #6 bus, and up to 12 other passengers on it all the way into town. Yet, when I take buses at 1800h to 1930h, I get at least twice that many, save the odd time. It just doesn't add up, save the gangstalking and freakshow imperative.

10-05-2011
Another email hack at my Yahoo account. A recent plundering though, as they accessed my contacts list which hasn't been up for more than six months. They got an email from me promoting Viagra, and then had a link to an attack web site that would clobber your computer if it wasn't protected.

A half day of work at the farm today, the morning spent with the employment counsellor who had some kind of special dispensation to go beyond the usual hour time frame. The perps like to set up expectations and then manipulate the events to have them dashed or unexpectedly altered. In this case, I have met the person some 10x, and the deal is that the appointment is an hour. But today, while not able to look at my watch to keep up the eye contact and not appear rude, I had this sense the meeting should of been over, but it was continuing, him doing all the talking. Finally, I got a sneak look at my watch at 1108h, and then I knew the fix was on.

Anyhow, I got the "red men" gangstalking before and after, these loitering louts with some article of red clothing, often including red shoelaces for crissakes. This one dude was sucking on weed (smoking a cigarette) outside the building entrance to the employment offices, and wearing a red jacket. I get into the elevator and lo, just before the door closes, this sucker comes in, timing his arrival and that of his smoke filled lungs perfectly to catch the elevator before it departed. So... as it "happens" he is going to the second floor too, and he strangely motions me to get out the elevator ahead of him, and then he tails me out and lo, if he isn't going to the same office as me. Just fucking bizarre and very obvious.

l got to the farm at about 1230h, time to have lunch and then start into raspberry picking, and then strawberry picking. Once it was break time, why, I got detailed for helping raise panels as part of the haunted house exhibit. And around 1700h, when traversing through the haunted house maze with two batteries for the drill the carpenter was using, why, the perps forced a "wet fart", as in having me crap my pants. At first I wasn't sure, but it felt different after a few minutes and so it was time to do the honors of cleaning this mess up in the bathroom, and yet again, donate a pair of underwear for the Fuckover cause. After some anxious moments the toilet flushed without backing up, unlike the last time the perps pulled this same stunt at a different farm. So... here we go again, purging brown out of me and have me
go the remainder of the day without underwear. Just plain fucking hilarious, and the Fuckwit who pulled this stunt had better keep their helmet on all the time, lest an errant bat make contact with their head.

Which now changes the "underwear ecology", another perp infatuation of long standing. All the underwear that I own is black colored, which isn't enough. The two sets of one kind, one with a doubled fabric as the waistband/hem had been used almost alternately every day for the past 8 months or so. But now, with one pair gone, it is back to using the elastic waistbanded set, down to five pairs after another shit show at the other farm back in 03-2011. In other words, the elastic waistbanded set will get more use, as it seems the perp's underwear energetics research, or whatever they are studying, has now moved on and they are confident they can apply the determinations of one set to that of the second set. Naturally, the more confortable doubled fabric waistbanded pairs became unavailible when I wanted to get more, and I had to settle for more of the latter set. The underwear battles have been going on for years in many variations to have me purchase new pairs, e.g. waistband "failure", fabric pilling, seam pilling and hem parting and on and on. Not forgetting that one prior set of six, after being purchased, was taken to get altered and the waistbands lowered 2". In this case, the perps had a fabric sample from each pair, as the alterations person never gave me the spare fabric back.

10-07-2011
A farm work day; bagging carrots inside, then outside to help in the potato unloading/washing that got stalled out two days ago when there were no packing boxes for the finished product. And have I ever mentioned how the perps like to disrupt processes and have them re-start days or months later? Many hundreds of times I should think. That they were red potatoes in a green colored trailer, might of aided the perp's color games as well.

Retards on the bus in the morning; the regular 0715 #6 bus N. bound, and instead of the three negroes stunt of last week, why, it is the three retards/Downs or whatever it is. A perp favorite is to add halfwits into the gangstalking mix, but all the more curious they needed three at once.

Another Unfavored/freakshow populations is blind folk; two together on the bus in this evening. Again, it is most curious why they are doubling or tripling the number of Unfavoreds/freaks at the same time.

While at the picnic table at lunchtime at the farm, a woman in a silver grey sedan pulls up and gets out in white pants and a brown coat. She is looking for certain kinds of potatoes, and I get dispatched to help out, wandering all over the coolers with the farmer's son in his red hoodie, looking for specific potato types, though I have no idea where they keep them all. And lo, if this woman isn't hanging over where my pack is kept by the doorway, and blocking egress to it. Which is exactly what my farm co-workers do too at other times. Funny how that "happens", again and again, just with a change of players.

10-08-2011
A farm work day, though I am short on specifics, except to note that we had to re-process both carrots and potatoes this week. That is to say, they were in bins or were packed in 50 lb boxes respectively, and were put through the washing and grading for the second time. The farmer's wife told me that they had 100 tons of boxed potatoes that they couldn't sell as the buyers are annoyed that there is so much rot in the potatoes. Some of it is detectable to us graders on the conveyor line, but she also made it plain that her husband is in too much of a hurry to push the product through and not concerning himself enough with quality. More dysfunction on the farm, and I didn't dig any deeper on that one.

And lo, if the packed potatoes aren't being stored in the massive coolers at the other farm I worked at, 2008 to 03-2011, this year. Kind of interesting, these potatoes making the reverse circuit between the two farms I have worked at. And have I mentioned how the perps seem to be so interested in the provenance of food, and that they like to vary my food sources from time to time, making certain ones are unavailible? Many times.
10-09-2011
2100h
A wrap to gto this blog posted, because if I don't, it will slide another week while keeping the day job as farmworker, or at least, to the end of October is what I am told.

I am staying at the First Feral Family house as my perp abetting mother has left for two weeks in the UK, my out of town brother unexpectedly accompanying her once they meet up in Vancouver, BC. And, almost needless to day, this house is the nexus of perp research and abuse, as whatever they discover here in the way of remotely assayed brain, psychic energies, EMF or whatever the fuck else they are studying me for (food intake, clothing fabrics and colors, associated noises with thoughts or actions etc.), is attempted to be applied elsewhere. Like earlier today, an accompaniment of red colored gangstalking vehicles with silver grey and mid-grey tones while driving my mother to the Victoria airport, then afterward, driving downtown to my place to drop off a new web-ordered coat that was at the FFF house, and pick up some of my regular food that was in my fridge and then drive back to the FFF where I am now typing this up. So what it seems is that they want me to have my usual and same (mostly) cuisine at the FFF house, and on the crockery that is here, some kind of Dutch pattern, bluish tinted with dark blue borders and a blue floral pattern in the center of plates, bowls etc. The perps go to no end of efforts to energetically quantify my interactions with food and beverages and what the colors convey to the food, then inside me, and wherever else it goes. So eating my usual cuisine in the FFF house is a HUGE advance for the perp's research, taking place to 9.5 years since they went beserk/overt on me in 04-2002. No doubt my farmworker colleagues will be all over me tomorrow, as in gangstalking at work, which is getting more ridiculous and blatant, like having the Asian male wander up to me, stand 2' away, go behind me a little more, dither about for another 10 seconds, and then wander off. It usued to be they would pretend to look for something or even make conversation to inject some relevance and a cover story as to what they were doing in my proximity on my lunch break, but no more. Blatant gangstalking and even looking foolish while doing it are part of the scene now.

What is also interesting is that they allowed me to eat basil for the first time this year, as it has always been a fond herbal staple for the aroma alone. And for "some reason" these quesadillas seem to rip open when handling them to reveal the basil. But for "some reason", (read, unabashed mind control) they didn't want me to have any basil until October this year, almost too late in the season to expect any. Some of it was put in the regular dish I eat for lunch and dinner, quesadillas with sprouted grain tortillas.

I stopped at the two grocery stores and Home Depot on the way back, and sure enough, the red dressed gangstalkers and staff were all about me, especially when at the checkout and making a financial transaction, a moment the perps dearly love to harass me over. Naturally, they were ready, with the prior customer purchasing mounds of ground beef, and other meats, (think red colors here), and some other red colored foods. And too, the red fleece vested gangstalker was there in the next checkout, getting the red out, as I term it. Fleece is now the prefered fabric for the gangstalkers, and even the MIB's are decked out in black fleece with soft black fabric arm and shoulder patches, save once, when an 1950's style MIB was on the bus with the black wide brimmed hat and the shaved eyebrows.

This is the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend, so it was a little quieter out at the airport, but in tems of vehicular gangstalking, the perps were full measure for putting on many high hundreds, or even low thousands of gangstalking vehicles, injecting the red colors among silver-grey colored vehicles, though backing off on white colors. Instead, more mid-greys and black colored vehicles, and they were even "daring" enough to have a string of four vehicles, one lead red, a black, a mid-grey and a tailing red to ride beside me for much of the S. bound Hwy 17 into downtown (20 min.). They stuck on me like glue and made sure both lanes were plugged to stop me from getting ahead. And lo, if the perps didn't add an orange vehicle to accompany me for the last 10 minutes, in keeping with their big focus on carrot colors. Also, heavy on the motorcycles today too, the weather cooperating (ahem).

Time to get this posted and done for the week.

Washing Potatoes in the Rain

2011-10-02T13:30:00.000-07:00

09-26-2011
A Monday, always a big perp event, this one different as I did not go to the First Feral Family house for a Sunday night stayover [cue dude and chick chatting outside my door in the hallway as I am about to listen to Lola Beltran]. Another all-important perp event is when and what I shave; it was legs last night, ordinarily a Saturday event, so one can see they decided to send me to work directly from leg shaving the night before instead of a day's layover at the FFF house where they of course get absolute pre-scripted cooperation from my mother. Obviously they want to test something related to shaving; here and to work, versus a prior here, day at the FFF house, and then a work day. Exciting moments in perp-dom indeed.

And all day rain nearly, and some four loads of potatoes were put through the conveyor and washed, then the culls and dirt balls were sorted out by yours truly. What one does for $10/hour, to serve the insane assholes who brought this abusive depravity on me in 04-2002. The sorting that I do takes place outside before the potatoes go inside the building to be graded and boxed. This must also be a big perp deal, these biological entities going over a conveyor from outside to inside, in keeping with their abiding and insane interest everytime I pass in and out of buildings with my coterie of Fuckwits in attendance and delaying and dithering if they can.

Another "treat" is that I am getting green colored flashes on this white web page which "happen" to be the identical color of the green potatoes, the culls that I sort out. The white potatoes get accepted, and if they have green on them they are rejected. This is from the potato being too close to the surface, and getting light, and developing cholorophyll. So yes, about four tonnes of potatoes went through the conveyor line today, the biggest potato wash-grade day ever.

09-27-2011
Only about 50+ screaming rage-ifications this morning; fucking me when attempting to grasp, fucking my ability to open packages and every move fucked and fraught over the breakfast routine

Second Fugliest Negro yet, "happens" to get on the morning bus, placing himself three seats from me. From there, it was freak fill-in gangstalking; two fatgirls and the Fugliest Fat Man again with a different hat on, a morning time regular on the next bus but who "happened" to arrive on this earlier one.

On the farm labor front, a carrots day; first picking in the field, then by machine, and then bagging them, a trial in perp abuse with carrots that just won't go in the bag, defying normal gravity oftentimes, to open up the opportunity for the supervisor to get on my case.

Home bound on the bus; a former farmworker, a negro woman who I spoke with a few times back in 2008, was seated opposite and pretending not to notice me for the entire trip, she getting on shortly after I did. She pulled this same stunt about two years ago, "happening" to walk past the bus stop and pretending not to notice me. Then the threadbare pants wearing babes were filled in around me, showing off their leg tans through their holed deans. I get it; negro with Caucasian babes with tans showing through the holes in the front of their pants for more brown skin comparisons. We have only done 9.5 years of this insane bullshit.

09-29-2011
1915h
A carrot day today, bagging them into 5lb bags after sorting through them for the better quality ones. Then out in the field for bunching them there, picking, bunching and hosing with water.

Carrot bagging tedium again; the freaking carrots will hang up in the bag when transferred from scale to bag with a tipping balance dish. And of course, we must keep them straight when in the bag, so this entails squeezing from each end while rolling the bag and gently dropping it some 4" onto the table. As orange is an Unfavored color, no end of effort is devoted to showing me this color, and that includes the pumpkins in bins 50' away, and outside. And of course I picked a lot of them too. The perps also get excited about the fact that I cut the stems using my Felco #7 secateurs versus the Mexican laborers just snapping them.

Other farm Fuckover activity was shiftless Fuckwit males hanging around the warehouse today, including one Fuckwit who arrived for my break and decided he needed to learn about the edibility of pumpkins. And lo, if he didn't answer his own question in this loopy conversation as I was seated near the pumpkins to be out in the warm sun. Just when I thought the Fuckwit was long gone, he comes back at me with a new question as I am in the doorway of warehouse. And have I not mentioned the perps are totally beserk when I pass through doorways into or out of buildings? And this Fuckwit pulls another one just so he makes sure I know this is a perp move. And why do these freaks seem to find me at the most inconvenient time?

A dapper negro woman on the bus this morning, and in her town coat and this funny toque-with-peak. she looked like the last person to be on the bus and made it plain by sitting side-saddle in the transverse seats, twisted to view the front of the bus with the seat facing the sidewalk. Within two stops another negro woman arrives and sits nearby, and then the dapper negro got off at the next stop. We are talking negro tag-team almost, though no seat-for-seat replacement like in times past.

09-30-2011 (Friday)
Appointment that counsellor couldn't make due to illness, so an extra hour to my credit, but of course the gangstalking freakshow was all over me as I exited the building. I took the bus to the First Feral Family house, and borrowed the vehicle to get my parcel from the UPS depot, the third such in a month. Yes, there are killer savings to be had at Sierra Trading Post, but some items in the first two parcels were decidedly perp planted notions, as I did not need them.

Then I helped my perp-abetting mother out taking a birthday cake to father in the care home, and he didn't know who I was, though I hadn't been there in months to see him, owing to work schedule changes.
Then to work with the supervisor climbing the wall of worry over not enough work etc. she did this the last time before I was laid off, so I can expect the same again in short order, even if they told me in early Sept. it was to the end of October.

My supposed co-workers were all over me, crossing where I stood, and in place before and after, and one in particular on the carrot bagging line was making sure I saw his back from 6" away. more of this extra tight choreography all day as it "happened".

A beserk load of gangstlaker in the bus, some 35+ headed in downtown on a Friday night at 1830h, ridiculous. And of course the freaks, beards, space-outs, curly haired and my next seat neighbor, by herself at the bus stop, and lo, if she doesn't meet up with her skinhead "partner" discussing couple things as to a new vehicle and other household items. I never had a couple meet on the bus before, but only "happenchancers", the Cheersing setups. And what a compaining B she was too.

10-01-2011
A Saturday, and armed with my new monthly bus pass, something the perps screwed me on once, but not since, maybe 20 monthly passes in the past three years. But it is a big deal, this magnetic stripped object, and that it is also made of thin plastic, always an attraction to the perp wallet contents fucking games that have gone on in full measure since the Day of Infamy, 04-15-2002, when then made my life fucking hell by starting with a big blow-out faux police raid on my apartment.

And a sad day, the drop-dead gorgeous live-in girlfriend of the farmer's son is moving out on him, and I helped in the moving, organizing and placing her objects in the truck. Plus, I corralled the two Mexicans and the one Chinese helper, attempting to get English through to them with varying degrees of success. Frustrating at times, but not as bad as 40 min. into packing when the farmer's son informs me that this is to be a one truck trip, when it was three trips earlier this year. So... we had to haul out half of the stuff and repack the 5 tonne truck. The perps just love these re-work stunts, and I suppose this was pretty minor compared to how they might fuck a large construction project.

The couple lasted 5 months together and were still bickering as we moved her belongings. I learned from the drop dead gorgeous babe that this fighting had started since they moved in together. I had no idea, but as the farmer's son is not inclined to share much with anyone, no one knew until recent weeks. The farmer said that she was too much a Barbie Doll girl and wasn't the right kind of material for his son. Alas, as I came to learn afterward from someone else, the son's woes are consuming him, and I don't think any wife or near-wife is going to be able to help him. Said son is also disaffected with his family and in working on the farm, so I just don't know where this one is going. I am contained in a box all the time, but he has woes that the perps might be exploiting to make things much the same for him. Anyone know of a help line to call if you think someone is in danger of going postal?

I hoping to get laid off in the next week or two and not have to deal with these family feuds and the other prevaricational fuckery that my supervisor pulls off, that is also getting stranger than I am willing to live with for long. Only the big tab that I was forced to run up by the perps at Sierra Trading Post as I re-garment myself from all the sabotage and inadequate clothes of the past they had me wear. (Or else exploited the garment's design faults to then make it problematic). All part of the endless perp dicking around with what I wear, its color and the rest of it. Even new rain pants "failed" and the assholes stole the reciept off my desk to block me from taking them back last Febuary. So... new industrial strength foul weather rain pants are on order, the fourth order in the last six weeks when I desperately wanted to stop at two. When I read of the tales of confessed shopaholics I begin to understand that it might not all be self-generated/at fault. The perps like to grind their victims down various themes, and I suppose they are having me sample some of them, this being poorly supervised shopping, even if I get killer deals of over 50% off.

And the parcel delivery thing seems to be a big deal; one variant is to have me pick it up at UPS and bring it to my perp abetting mother's place, the First Feral Family house, and open it there. Two of the three parcels to date have had this reciept and unpacking arrangement. And to note, the FFF house is the site of the most perp intense activity so they can then attempt to replicate their remote energy assay gleanings there in all other locations that I frequent.

And as it was a different day in terms of farmwork, i.e. moving house, per above, the perps also decided to screw me out of having a normal morning, and had me get up only 20 min. ahead of the bus departure time. So.. no breakfast, shower, shave, all major considerations the perps seem to be still dealing with in terms of how it changes my energy signature in their remote monitoring and assay games. Only time enough to change, get my lunch ready for the day, and get out the door. And lo, if the bus wasn't 15 min. late, and my regular Saturday gangstalker dude was in place, now being unfriendly again. Fucking weird. And last week, he placed himself some 60' away from the bus stop, and 30' back of the corner where the #6 bus turns, looking down Fort St. But his travel bag was at the corner, some 30' away, visible from the bus stop. Today, he tailed me onto the bus and to the rear elevated platform to the rear 6-wide seat, and then sits two seats away, violating the unwritten rule of sitting as far away from other passengers as possible. Said Fuckwit has tailed me on other routes as well.

What's with these driving dudes who pull a U turn, pull into a parking stall and then get out in order to tail me W. bound for 80' into the apartment lobby? An E. Indian to boot, at about 2000h, dark then, two days ago. Then yesterday, after getting off the bus, wallking S. bound, a dude exits from a parked car, to do lead-ahead gangstalking for 30' in dusk onset conditions. Then tonight when dark, a dude does a high speed mid-street reverse turn, pulling into the driveway 30' ahead of me, then backs out, and roars off to replicate in reverse the route he arrived by. Not your average befuddled tourist driving while putzing.

10-02-2011
Another laundry fuckover; the 7th floor washing machine didn't go through the spin cycle so I got to humpf the sopping wet bedsheets and towels to the 6th floor washing machine and start all over again. All to have the drying delayed so it occurs when on my 1000h coffee date/public gangstalker setup. Then to humpf the laundry back to the 7th floor to the larger dryer to get it dried on one load. It used to be that doing my laundry on another floor was enough, but now they want to split the laundering activity over two floors. Fucking insane. Then the drying rack that has a cloth fabric mesh to support drying clothes erupted with mold on it fabric, so I took it off and put it into the laundry too, after some stain removing Shout was applied. And lo, if the rack won't go back together, one screw hole too big and the other too small. More sabotage, and one that is very inconvenient as I use the drying rack each day for farmwork clothes drying.

A morning coffee with the farmwork colleague now at horticulture school. The same laconic smirk as always, and the sudden scripted end to the conversation, just as well. A freakshow all around me in the coffee shop as well. Why do they put on so many chinless wackos as gangstalkers?

Useless Mission

2011-09-25T12:32:00.000-07:00

A week summary of the notes from the highlights, read, excessive abuses.

09-20-2011
A Tuesday, as I tooke the Monday off due to a cold that came on, ostensibly recieved from the supervisor who came in dog sick on the prior Saturday. While at lunch, a equest for me to "help" the senior Punjabi to do some vehicle shuttling at the house of the farm owner. He, wearing his loathesome turrban, drives me on a useless mission to pick up someone and drop them off elsewhere - at their doctor's office as the person's son was under anesthetic. So WTF; why do they need me to be a passenger and experience the Turban's overcautious driving when one person could of done the job? No idea, except to replicate the route and the same vehicle that three of the Mexican workers take each day, as the farm owner rents rooms to three of the four remaining Mexicans. And too, to have my pack sitting on the concrete slab during lunch hour for some 25 minutes, as normally the perps don't interrupt lunchtime.

And what is with this sudden increase of pit lamping; that it to say, having vehicle headlights aimed at me. Three times at the inbound bus (to home, end of the work day) stop, vehicles pull into the mini-mall and park opposite, and then keep their headlights aimed at me sitting on the bench of the bus shelter. And of course, huge volumes of vehicular traffic are passing by in both directions, the traffic passing in front of these headlights. I get up from the bench and stand 20' away, out of the direct beam, and this is when the only other waiting passenger circles me while on her cell phone, wearing a shirt under her black top that is the same color as the new scarf I was wearing.

At at about 1800h, only 12 on the #6 inbound bus, instead of 30 or more that is more common of late, but is entirely arranged IMHO.

Then when headed to the LD that evening, the "happening" dudes, three of them, almost block the stairwell with themselves and a bicycle and I pick my way through this weird scene. Only in this town would strange dudes, aka "dudestalk", block public egress. And of course the lollygagging yellowjackets, aka, "security", are absent of course. After I finish my gangstalked shopping at the LD store, and go to take the same stairwell back, why, they added an extra Fuckwit to string themselves across the entire stairwell. I reverse course, and take an alternate route back to my apartment, but the cycling-on-sidewalks gang was ready too, sending in two cycling Fuckwits to pass within 20 seconds of electing to take an alternate route. And when I get near my apartment, why, one of the stairwell blockers and his bicycle "happened" to be nearby. If this dudefest was so compelling as to block public egress, why is it he broke from the crowd and found me yet again, one block away.

On the farming front, the red everbearing strawberry picking was followed by a red potatoes run on the loading, washing, and packaging line. As usual, I get the job to pick out the dirt and the cull potatoes as they stream by. The perps do love to put me on conveyor work.

Then onto some roofing work on the farm market store, using a Paslode cordless/hoseless nailer. I gather these use some kind of fuel as well as an battery to run the electronics, but it packs quite a punch to deliver a 3" nail into the new rafters.

09-20-2011
More pit-lamping even out in a leased farm field; why, a vehicle was in the pasture next door driving at the geese to shoo them off, and headlights pointed in my direction. Ditto at the farm site, plenty of turning vehicles with headlights on me, the crowning touch was two same size pickups, one black, one white, and side by side with headlights aimed at me just as I came into view through the building door. Talk about a stake-out, getting me with two vehicles at the perp-critical location of a building doorway. Then they played a plasmic image of the four lights as if it were retina burn while I was inside, having moved away from the doorway.

On the buses, home bound again, always offering more variety as to the Unfavored, read reaks. The red dressed again came out again; three Fuckits, one with red hat, one with red hoodie, and one with red shorts all at the same bus stop and two of the three sat nearby. Not random chance by any means.

09-21-2011
Same deal as yesterday, just that it was in the morning instead of dusk onset time; pick everbearing strawberries for 30 min. and then work to wash red potatoes, being on the conveyor line picking out the dirt and bad spuds. A tonne of potatoes to pass by is the norm. And a backup of potatoes on the conveyor line that runs beneath the washed potatoes line above, "happening" next to where I stand. Funny how that happens, conveyor problems that erupt next to me.

The outbound bus at 0715h has a semi-regular crowd, and accordingly, a semi-freakish group that rotates enough to have me sit at the rear on the elevated platform, and occasionally, on the front low platform. It was in the former context that this semi-negro woman was on the bus for the first time, and she gets off in two stops and a tall male negro gets on, and sits hanging into the aisle when he should of been sitting next to the side, as there was no one next to him. In three more stops, another tall negro male sits opposite to me in the elevated upper section, legs spread wide as he can possibly make them. And he is dressed up as a construction worker, and I have never seen this type on a bus in over 30 years, until all this harassment started and re-jigged my reality. The spread legged pose is also a favorite perp pose they like males to adopt, especially when seated oppositely. Said threesome of negroes never returned for the rest of the week, so I can assume they were perp props and not attempting any kind of cover story. Recall that in 2009 this same negro populating stunt, three again, was pulled one time on the bus in the morning.

09-22-2011
A half day devoted to the employment counsellor, and getting some legit funding to take a out-of-town course for three monthss. His conveyed the fund-keeper's remark that "not an absolute no" as to the likely outcome. Like WTF; a default "no" means that a kindly and rationalized "no" might be an alternative.

Rain in the early morning, but none when I went out.

None of the sunlight games through the venetian blinds in the office of the employment counsellor like last week, as it is E. facing and an hour earlier, and with a thin cloud cover, the sun sat like an orb casting shadow into his office, and eventually I changed position to avoid the endless games that have transpired wherever I go, having the sun peek out from behind pillars and window stanchions, and other structures seems to be the biggest deal going for the perps. As if lunar eclipes weren't enough.

More potato washing on the conveyor at work; plenty of selected potatoes or dirt I am to take out gets pulled out of my hand for no conventional reason, the essential job requirement.

09-24-2011
And I find that my work gloves were stolen on the way home, my pack "happened" to be open. I always close up my pack, and the assholes screwed me into forgetting or else opened the pack up by telekinetic means, and having the gloves disappear. It is always a classic perp move, to steal items for which I have spares.

And plenty of cycling me with differing gloves and footwear for farm work; having me wear gumboots for imminent potato washing and then, instead and at the last minute, send the crew (and me) to pick strawberries instead for the morning. Same for gloves; the perps like me to have the wrong pair on, or the right pair in my pocket instead of on my hands as the demands for the potato conveyor work were so "compelling". Needless to say, I often have a minor crowd around me whenever I change either.

The farmer's son's children were buzzing around on a racing ATV crossing my path on a two hour cleanup of the farm buildings, and the older blonde kid tailed me to the time clock for no seeming reason to hang around while I clocked out. As before, clocking in or out seems to draw a crowd most times, and the Turban finally quit this act as of a month ago.Now it is the kiddie's turn, even if he looked like sheepdog, as I have never seen his face yet for the 20x or so times I have met him.

09-25-2011
Onto the First Feral Family house soon. Bedsheets got laundered, this morning, the erratic maintenance (or bad "luck") of the shared laundry equipment is such that I take the bedding to the 6th floor (where I reside) washing machine and pack it still damp to the 7th floor dryer. It used to be a single floor, the same one I live on, and then events were arranged for the entire load to be done on the 7th floor, and now, due to yet more equipment malfunctions, the washing is done on the 6th, and the drying on the 7th. I am sure they will arrange it sometime soon to be the opposite. A strange dude was sitting on the laundry room bench looking at his laptop, with no laundry activity when I went to see if the washing machine was availible. Five minutes later when I returned with my laundry, he was gone. The perps cannot pack enough of the Fuckwits around me while viewing their LCD screens it seems.

1850h
I slept most of the afternoon due to this cold I have, it seeming to get worse instead of better, which it had been over the week. So no FFF visit today, as I would typically make now that there is no farm work on Sundays.

So why is it that I get constantly screwed with over web access for jobs? Linked In mangles my resume with its parser, and then Third Quarter won't display my resume page to the web, even if web based. Bizzare, if not contrived.

And it seems my immune system is under perp study; the tetanus shot of last week, and this past week with a cold and me taking echinacea, Cold FX and vitamins C and D, at first with success and then when backing them off, the cold comes on strong again.

City Bus Swarming

2011-09-19T21:48:00.000-07:00

09-19-2011
2100h
An unplanned day off, this Monday, as I have acquired a doozer of a cold yesterday, and they wouldn't let me sleep much last night at the First Feral Family house. A double whammy. All to seemingly repeat the experiences/timing of the summer, where I take Mondays off at the FFF house. Since the job restart, it has been Sundays off.

I got plenty of errands done, and picking up my UPS package in person and paying at $85 duty hit for China made sheets and ski pants. I got slotted into this notion of having a pair of softshell pants that were both waterproof and windproof, and an somehow this morphed into ski pants. Like WTF; I already have a blue pair of Patagonias that I have rarely worn, and somehow "forgot" in this headlong planted notion of getting softshell pants. A $150 down the drain, just to piss me off.

And of course, the perps plant notions of future portent that I am going to a cold weather location, but that cannot be relied upon as I have safety toe boots that I "needed" and haven't worn for three years. (All the construction jobs just didn't materialize). And on it goes; kitchen utensils that I "had to have", and they sit unused for over two years. As part of this campaign of perp touted job/training change they are promoting as upcoming this winter, they have me searching for cots and collapsible furniture. A fold-up table has already been secured, a cot is next they say, and then a few chairs. All to move in one pass in my mother's Ford Escape which she has put on offer at least 5x in the past two months.

The city bus freakshow was another swamping this afternoon. The usual story; reverse commute from suburbia to downtown, often only 10 to 15 passengers, but over 40 today. Even the commuting buses in the opposite direction weren't as full. The final coup was to have a fugly negro woman board the bus at my penultimate stop. Quite the scene she was, and my collective reaction was no doubt of considerable interest to the myriad of Fuckwits around me (as human biosensors). Though, I have to admit, they cut down on the freaks (read, Unfavored- e.g. tattoos, turbans, strange headwear, red or other unnatural hair, vagrants, shiftless dudes, skinheads, large gutted persons, ponytail males, loudmouths and geriatrics). Why so many "people" (read Fuckwits) were on that bus defies logic. Though, they did put on one curly haired Fat Girl (two Unfavoreds in one person), one who works at a kitchen shop I frequented and screwed me around last year as to where to get a particular kind of teapot- totally wrong direction. Not to mention that she was putting on the gangstalk in various front, back, L. side and R. side poses, standing there dumbstruck.

Other excitement for the perps today seems to be incrementing the "red count"; surrounding me with slightly more red vehicles, red shirted males, and ensuring there are plenty of extraneous red reflections in my vision. Often they would put five to eight white vehicles in a cluster and then insert a red one in the centre or at the end. This morphed into later larger clusters of red vehicles, some side by side and running a red light together.

And big noise eruptions when I was sowing grass seed at the FFF house, as part of the re-leveling of the NW corner ankle breaking humps the FF Father left as unfinished landscaping for over 40 years. The perps cannot get enough noise and disruption when they have me sowing grass seed for whatever reason. When I got back from my errands my mother wanted to get grass seed from Home Depot which is a 3 minute drive away. But first we have coffe together, as in getting "brown calibrated". And lo, if she wasn't wearing a yellow sweater and tan brown pants. And lo, when traversing the parking lot, a male pops out of his parked vehicle and crosses our paths dressed exactly in the same colors, sprinting almost. It is the first time I have ever seen anyone sprint into Home Depot for crissakes.

Then when in Home Depot and getting the grass seed and dealing with my mother's delaying and batshit wacko tactics, why, a couple cruises by with an orange plastic shopping cart and the identical grass seed product in it. ( I was grasping the selected grass seed product, no hand or shopping basket). And lo, if the woman isn't also dressed in a yellow top and same brown color pants. And lo, if this woman doesn't come past for a second gangstalking by herself. Like WTF; why do I need to see this again, not even attractive.

And then it finally dawned on me; this is the day I skip the meds, one being yellow colored. So, yes, extra yellow colored gangstalking today, the Yellow Cab out in profusion and sitting around doing nothing. And too, DHL's loud yellow trucks were pre-positioned at two of my errand stops, seeming to do nothing as well.

Yesterday's (Sunday) afternoon city bus trip to suburbia was also fraught. A standing room situation on the #27, so I hung back to get the #28 and put up with the 10 minute walk instead of the 4 minute walk after getting off. I still got five loud and raucous dudes at the back, who got off altogether two stops later thankfully, as they were making out they were drunk. Later on the bus trip, this ponytail dude sits down opposite with his skateboard, the perp's favorite street accouterment after bicycles. After a few minutes he then directs me to press the "next stop" notification button/bell for him. I point to the fact that there is a button just beside him on the pole, and he presses it. Like WTF; why am I suddenly some dumbshit's chosen bell-ringing servant? The Fuckwit wasn't even pretending to be friendly or communicative in the first place, and wasn't the least bit apologetic or contrite, he just carries on looking at the floor. Then he gets up, and stands in the rear exit, and instead of waiting for the doors to open, facing them, he backs up to the panel that separates me and the rear exit. Like WTF; this is where the rear door retracts, and he is in the way, and is backing up to me for no seeming reason. (Maybe to show off his ponytail, something I have come to learn that I loathe on males). He finally figures this out as the door opens and gets out two stops ahead of me. Why do these wacko Fuckwits on the city bus visit their crap on me? And why wasn't I allowed to ream this Fuckwit out for being a total dick, assuming I was his lackey? Contained and constrained in high strangeness, especially the behavior of others.

Getting to be 2145h, and bedtime for this 0530h get-up farmworker to do all his body shaving and prepare for the day ahead. Posting now, while listening to Lola Beltran, Mexicanisim. Fantastic, and it only took me three years to execute on my interest in this performer. Not bad in perp-constraint time.

Wrap for the Last Two Weeks

2011-09-18T13:41:00.000-07:00

A serious round of demotivation for the past two weeks, combined with re-starting farm work Sept. 09, 2011 to crimp my evening time to a minimum. This is a scattered summary of events for the last two weeks, as there is always constant perp abuses, stunts, affronts and other staged harassment that are too numerous to mention in detail.

The red, orange, and yellow color games continue, with the perps fucking me out of my prescription, the first time ever I have had one lost. It was in my wallet and somehow "disappeared". I never lose items from my wallet, but it "happened" in order to mess around with the yellow colored pills, a continuing perp fascination and jerkaround scene.

I found out at the pharmacy that I lost my Rx, and the pharmacy tech said for me to get a Rx request from my doctor to fax the pharmacy. It was a Thursday, and I phoned in a message to the doctor. No reply on the Friday when I got back from work. So.., I now "recalled" that there is a provision for an emergency supply where the pharmacist can prescribe a 5 day supply, and I phoned in for that and they were OK with it and I picked it up after a 20 delay in the store because they said they suddenly got swamped. Needless to say my gangstalkers were out, the same ones hounding me in all corners of the store with their unerring ability to find me. Both medications came in the same size blue carbonate plastic bottles,a departure for the yellow colored ones as they normally come in a larger white polyethyelene bottle. No doubt this was the entire jerkaround was all about.

I phone again the doctor's office to leave a message for the third time, and on the Monday I get a message saying that I need to ask the pharmacist to make a request to the doctor. Like WTF, the fucking pharmacy could of told me this too, and somehow they "forgot" and got it totally backwards, sending me to get my doctor to initiate the request. This is at least the second time the pharmacy has jerked me around in the same manner. And so, by Tuesday I get the Rx in full again, and finished up the emergency supply the day after a Wednesday. And have I mentioned the perp's fascination with certain colors and the jerkarounds I get, especially with respect to the color of medications and the bottle they are in? Many times, and this little fuckover stunt, initiated by the prescription loss and the pharmacy neglecting to tell me that they can prescribe a 5 day emergency supply and it is THEY who initiate a prescription request by fax is part of the continuing game of getting service that is often flat wrong, or at best, negligent in their duties. All to piss around with Rx bottles, their colors, their plastic formulation an bottle size. This, after nine years of this insane reign abuse that began 04-2002.

I have been working late most of the past week, to 1830h or 1900h, then a 20 min. walk to the bus stop, and lo, if there isn't some 5 to 10 Fuckwits collected at the bus stop, and then many more enroute, to stuff the bus to near capacity. We are talking about reverse commute here, 7:00pm, mid-week and downtown bound no less. An expectable number of bus travellers on the #6 route on a weekday at this time is some 5 to 12 passengers, but twice or three times that many has suddenly erupted, save for one day.

And of course if they are going to swamp me with gangstalking Fuckwits on the bus, then they are also going to swamp me with freaks. And so they did; I had six tattoo-ed (read, Unfavored) Fuckwits arranged around me on one homebound city bus trip, though for the most part they have a mixture of Unfavoreds; dudes in baggy shorts (even if much cooler temperatures now), male skinheads, red hair including a woman who dyed her hair to be one tone brighter orange/red than the normal natural color, vagrants, fat folk, curly haired, headscarf wearing types, negroes and a few others that don't come to mind as I type this up.

Last Saturday one of the Mexican farm workers came to my apartment to try get his laptop converted to Spanish, even though he speaks and reads English. That and some PC maintenance was good for some three hours of together time, both laptop and this PC in close proximity and of course, the LCD screens and whatever color response games the perps get out of it. And too, concluding at 1330h with no lunch, in keepiong with the games the perps like to do, putting on major jerkaround stunts just before mealtime, and of course, prolonging meal time. And as it "happened", I was getting my bedsheets laundered while the Mexican guy was here, and lo, if the washing machine didn't malfunction and the spin cycle failed. So... while he was here, I made extra trips to the dryer to rescue my laundry, putting in on an extra dryer cycle and hang drying the towels in my apartment as they were too wet. And today, it was launder said bedsheets and towels on the sixth floor and take them to the seventh floor dryer to get them done in a single hour long cycle. And at no time does the apartment manager put a notice on the laundry equipment to say "out of order', or that it is fixed. One has to pay money to find out if it runs or not.

Last week, a stunt at the farm job to create a situation to have a tetanus shot. There are bent nails welded onto this modified dolly to hold gunnysacks open to drop just-harvested corn in them. And well aware of how the perps will exploit anything, especially if in novel circumstances, they gave me a puncture wound in my right forearm when it was at least 4" from this bent nail. So... I attend to a bleeding wound in the field with a bandaid I have in my pack, (been there for about five years as they once pulled a bleeding would on a trail hike) and carry on. The farmer didn't give a shit, the farmer's son wanted me to declare it as a home injury, and so when I got to the local clinic, why, it was just closing at 1900h. So... I go there the next morning and get a tetanus shot from the doctor, who didn't ask where it happened. I step outside and the first thing I see is a mobile teool sharpening vehicle outside the doctor's office. I have remarked on past (arranged) coincidences of cut foods delivery trucks when I have been cutting daffodil flowers, so I can only assume the tool sharpening truck was parked there for reasons related to steel metal contact (tetanus injection needle) in my arm. And lo, if I don't mention this to the farmer's son who tells me he keeps up on his tetanus shots and gets them every ten year, as recommended. And of course there were extra Fuckwits on the city bus afterwards, public transport being nothing but a mobile gangstalking platform.

09-17-2011
A breakdown on the potato washing conveyor again; same as yesterday. And the same alternate work, pick strawberries from the everbearing patch. And like the day before, the farmer's son comes after some 20 minutes or so, to have me and one english speaking Mexican to go to the Haunted House display (for Halloween) to clean it up from dust and debris. And as it really in a barn, with plywood walls, there aren't many power outlets to run the vacuum cleaner and needed lighting to see what we are doing. To mitigate these adversities, I made many trips outside to get a trouble lamp, then the lightbulb blew by itself, the bulb falling from it socket, so that necessitated another trip to find lightbulbs, as did getting needed extension cords. Then more messing around to find the lighting on the electrical panel, and so it went, but we did get to some vacuum cleaning of the dusty displays.

And what do the perps do if they need me to have a mid-day exposure to the sight of a motorcycle? Why, they have a biker arrive on his Harley and park it outside the warehouse door for me to see from the inside. The biker also made some gangstlalking pass-bys for no seeming reason. Not to mention the trail bike stunts the farmer's son puts on a few times each day, though to be fair he is a trail bike racer from long ago. I have no idea why the perps constantly hound me with motorcycle noise and also make a point of having parked ones as props. They have been very consistent in doing this for the past 9 years or so, with this past summer being especially busy for this particular stunt and noise game.

Another big deal it seems for the perps is to have me harvest pumpkins and squash with my secateurs, (hand pruners) while the others twist them off. Though one Mexican uses a dull machete. This seems to be part of the continuing game of the perps to compare knife or steel edge cut produce/plant material from other means. And I assume, is also part of their obsession with having me prune plants, another long running theme.

I am going to wrap this up and post it, as I don't expect that I will have much time for the remainder of the day. If I don't, it will likely be another week before a posting is completed, given the continuance of the above demotivated spell and minimal evening time.

Rx Missing

2011-09-08T21:35:00.000-07:00

2055h
The first day of back-to-work was eventful; three conveyor line tasks over the day, this was washing potatoes. Part of it is to remove the culls, dirt sods, rocks and other debris (golf balls) as it passes along at too great of a rate to do a thorough job. So they end up with at least six staff to pick it all out, and to date, I haven't been on the lastmost crew who shouldn't be letting anything past them as the next stage is packaging them.

Tonight, I find that my Rx was missing from my wallet, the one place I can rely on to find vital papers, and "somehow" it went missing from there. And the Rx tech "needed" to go elsewhere for a minute while I was looking in my wallet, in keeping with more of the gangstalkers scuttling off and then coming back.

Another example of this was the cashier at the next stop, the local supermarket, attending to a customer ahead, and lo, if she didn't have to depart her station for a few minutes to hold me me up and retrieve two red bottles of something. These entrances and exits are getting more common now, and the perps seem to need someone to vacate my proximity for a time and then return.

Ditto for the farm workers today, going for extra long excursions to get an empty carrier and then return nearby. Where they went I have no idea, as there are some barriers to seeing them as to where they might be going.

Another rundown "attempt" today, with me proceeding on the Walk signal and the woman driver called me an asshole for whatever reason. Just more of the usual insanity snippets that goes on around me and to me. I say "attempt" as I don't really know what the intent was, but creating disagreements over the smallest of details suits the perp agenda just fine.

A hot September day, and it seems there is going to be a string of this weather after a very iffy summer until August. Yes, I suspect the perps are manipulating the weather to aid in my harassment, though I cannot say what each weather type offers. Though in the case of clouds, they do like to expose me to various shades of grey, even dark grey, but also to sky blue.

Other work shenanigans was to spray the vehicle with water before the driver set off to drop me off at the bus stop. And of course he "forgot" about my pack in the back of the pickup box, so guess what? My pack had plenty of water on it and somehow the water impervious coating on the inside "failed" and the black item inside was wet. This was the duffle bag I took to work this morning with my rain gear and two pairs of boots, and empty packs and suit cases are prime gangstalking moments. I believe I have noted the perp's "need" to have me in just-wetted vehicles, also fitting the weather game some days.

Other gangstalking BS today was to have a mother-daughter pair at the checkout, the daughter was behind me and the mother came to sit in her walker at the end of the checkout, sandwiching me between them. As always, the perps put on no end of inanity each time I financially transact with anyone by any method. That was one of their first moves, planting these dudes around me at checkouts who weren't doing any shopping and always had their back to me. How they arrived so fast was also odd, but this variation on check-out gangstalking didn't last past 2002 thankfully.

But the dudes in their baggy shorts below the knees were out in force tonight, and even the women were getting into emulating this sloppy look. I have no idea as to why the perps are so fucking insane over presenting me with gangstalkers wearing shorts, and they have turned up the stupid level in the past month or so.

Enough of blogging; I am very tired tonight and need to get to bed earlier.

Back to Farm Work -unexpectedly

2011-09-07T22:23:00.000-07:00

2045h
I am returning to farm work tomorrow, Sept. 08, 2011; I got a call from them when I thought I was laid off for the year. So... I need to boost my hours for the year should I need unemployment benefits. And it does seemt that the almost four week layoff was all about having me sift soil under partial tree cover in the backyard of the First Feral Family house, as it took at least 7 days to get it done and the surface re-graded so people can walk on it instead of this rough corner that was left undone compared to everywhere else on the property. That was preceded by filling in the hole at the waterline entry from the street in the frontyard after it was repaired with 2' of PEX (plastic pipe) line after the backhoe operator somehow crimped the original copper line even if he was told where it was. But given the perp's shenanigans over testing me, and the abetting family members of course, as to where my water comes from and what faucet, source and pipe, I am not too surprised that this "fuck up" wasn't predestined. As in scripted to continue water supply testing games. Back in 1998 I owned a small acreage and ended up replacing 600' the 2" water line as it was leaking, using PVC pipe from the meter box. This water was applied to the kiwi acre as well, as well as the alstromerias in the greenhouse. And here we are, over 13 years later, and all their previous covert work of 45 years then, still pissing around as to where I get my water from; geographic source, bottle type/size, line, filtration devices if any, tea kettle, teapot, drinking vessel and of course any colors of said delivery means. That job cost me nearly $5,000 in excavation costs which I had to cover as the now-ex was broke.

Prior to the front yard hole filling job, I sifted at least two cubic yards of compost. The above re-grade of the lot corner was about four cubic yards of material that had to be sifted as well. It all got done yesterday, save the disposition of the screenings. The perps like to have me spread sifted soil about, as it passing through the metal mesh seems to be an important marker/interaction for them. That, and having me regrind the edge of the shovel each morning, a new "need" that arose in the last week. And lo, if it wasn't expedited by the in-town brother not wanting to take his grinder back some weeks ago.

And so I figured a day off in this sunny and very warm September was overdue, and so off to the lake again for the final outside suntanning session of the year. No doubt the UV and vitamin D exposure games will continue next year, and maybe they will start them earlier than August. It is all very mysterious as to what they are after, but they have been very consistent about it going back to 2003 and 2004 when they put me through a similar process. As usual, the low flying aircraft came to visit at the lake, both fixed wing and rotar wing, and so it goes. I get low flying aircraft, 400' or so, wherever I go now, as this component of the harassment seems to be stepped up.

Hopefully one can detect the commonality between the mostly backyard soil slinging jobs under partial tree cover at the FFF house and the lake visits for suntanning. In the latter case I walk for 25 minutes of treed trail in a park before getting to this particular lake to join the skyclad community. Hopefully the last visit of the year, and hopefully a more engaging crowd than I have experienced to date. Keeping me isolated and out of social contact is all part of the deal.

2150h
And finally the cognitive fog was lifted and I was allowed to get my resume together and then send it to a forestry seed orchard operation. I am trained in forestry and with my background I reckon I should at least get an interview. And how many times have I been wrong about that one? Too many to count, and besides, I cannot see the perps allowing me to have a full time job when they have been working me over with casual labor jobs for the past four years. Having a steady employer and a full time job strikes me as too much certainty and not enough geographic relocation/disruption at this stage of the game. Not forgetting too that they haven't allowed me to have a job interview since 2002, as the farm jobs have always been en masse intakes or an offer without even a telephone interview. And for some things, job interviews being one, the perps seem to want to put me through this process in incremental pieces until they deem me ready to have a real one for an hour or so.

Onto farm work and to post this blogging.

Digging and Filling Holes

2011-09-02T23:45:00.000-07:00

2215h
A day of digging at the First Feral Family house today, backyard digging and soil sieving to remove this ridiculous 2' high lawn hump my perp-abetting parents managed to create. Then in the front yard, below the bedroom I inhabit once per week, another source of soil perturbance activity. This is where the lower bedroom had moisture that lifted the parquet flooring, and there seemed to be a perimeter drain problem. So a hole was dug some 4' down to expose the perimeter drain, and in the course of doing so, and with full knowledge of it being there, the excavator operator managed to snag the copper water supply line and crimp it. And so the perimeter drain guy fixed it by cutting out the copper and inserting 2' of PEX (plastic) line.

Regular readers will know that the perps are totally rabid about where I get my water from, be it in the form of drinks, or in the form of purchased food and beverage products. And too, the perps like to have me exposed to various water sources (e.g. well, city system, bottled water), and irrigation methods, (e.g. PVC line, polyethylene line, drip lines, and any other means of supplying water to plants or to fields) and of course being in the water, (e.g. rain, showers, bathing and swimming). That I was in a master swim club for 14 years in two cities wasn't any fluke, but whatever the perps were looking for in the way of modelling water on skin intake/interaction wasn't accomplished then, and since they went beserk/overt on me in 04-2002, they have mostly kept me from swimming. And so the water supply games continues with the FFF house now getting a PEX insert into the house supply instead of a copper line. Regular readers will recall that the perps changed up the piped water supply to the laundry washing machine and the adjacent sink, the plumbers inserting some kind of plastic line, though I cannot recall which kind it is.

And of course, the above "happens" at the same time I am digging up the landscaped hump in the backyard, so there are two soil pits in effect, and I was cycled between the two as my perp-abetting mother got fussed about having the 4' open hole at the front of the house. And the roto-rooter guy who was investigating the front yard perimeter drain problem, informed me that he wouldn't be filling in the hole even if he did say as much three days ago. So... as I "happened" to be there, I was redeployed from the backyard to the frontyard to fill in the hole the excavator made five days ago.

2330h
A 45 min. phone call with the in-town brother about this and that, and he won't sell me his 1991 silver-grey Nissan King Cab with less than 100k miles on it. He has a white trades van he uses for his garage sale activities, and it seems most odd he needs two vehicles for one person. Even his sort-of girlfriend who lives in the downstairs room agrees with me and was rather annoyed with him that he won't loan or give me the vehicle. As I know my in-town brother to be thrifty with his money, I wasn't expecting he would give me the vehicle, though his girlfriend thought I should.

And what could be the reason for such a lengthy phone call at this time of day? Well, as it "happens", I have the LED desk lights on, the onese next to this display screen, and normally I don't have these lights on and am made to suffer in the dim conditions. Exciting moments in perp-land.

Other nonsense that went down today was the second parcel from the single order arrived at UPS, one day after the first one. So... out there again to pick it up, but lo, if they didn't jame up the parking like yesterday, and I got to park outside Customer Service and too, not have the gauntlet of shiftless males loitering around. Today's parcel was a roll-up (camping) aluminum table, something the perps insisted that I needed for moving away this December to take a viticulture course in Penticton. Well, if that it the case, why have I suddenly stopped and not purchased folding chairs and a collapsable cot? Funny how they have me cranked for one scenario and then allow me to purchase something odd, and back off on other complementary items. Driving me with a foot on each of the accelerator and the brake at the same time is what it seems from here, deep in the FUD-state, comparable to the police state.

Time to get his posted for the day and ponder what bizarre nonsense that will go down tomorrow, the start of the Labor Day weekend here, same as that of the USA.

[Addendum, 09-03-201]
Of interest to the above digging was that the perps had me sharpen the shovel with a motorized grinder for the first time. Past perp machinations over what I use and how I sharpen tools are many, so it was interesting to note that they had me use this grinder for the first time, and also use the same sharpened shovel in the backyard (with a week or more of prior digging) and then in the frontyard for a first time filling of the excavator dug pit. On with the show, and who knows when it will end, or to what microscopic (or smaller) levels of resolution it goes to.

Pounding Music Noise

2011-09-01T22:14:00.000-07:00

1805h
A pounding bas heavy randomized music noise is coming in from upstairs, and the perps have done this all day in recent weeks. Its my lucky day today, getting this noise attention as well as the gangstalker freakshow. The big deal seems to be that I used my mother's Ford Escape to go to the UPS parcel depot and get my parcel, even if having to park 100 yards away as all the parking was somehow taken up by UPS vehicles. This followed on the same trip as taking plastic garbage bags full of garden waste to the municipal dump where they make compost out of it. Some 8 bags of garden waste were unloaded with all the bags retained and taken with me for the UPS leg and then back to the First Feral Family house. Not forgetting that the UPS parcel contained clothes wrapped up in clear polyethylene plastic.

And one customer ahead of me in the UPS office and as it "happened" he had a damaged parcel so he was instructed to open it up while I was being attended to. He pulls out plastic bubble wrap and looks this 5' long parcel over while I proffered my plastic debit card to pay for the duty and brokerage fees. When I get outside, some men were hanging around the UPS trucks for no seeming reason, and the more senior one says "hello" to me, and I politely respond in kind. Like WTF; he didn't have a UPS uniform on or anything to associate himself with the organization so who was he anyways and why didn't he make a move to get out of my way, rather than forcing me to go around him at this constriction point? Don't know, but I suspect the perps do their odd piece of polite greeting as I have had a few before. Normally I get "surly service" if I get any at all.

I get back to my perp-abetting mother's place and she wants to go out right away, so only one garment of four was unpacked from the parcel, the box remaining open. The perps often like to jerk me around and have their agents delay the most pedantic activities. So... I drive her to the optometrist to get her new glasses, plastic lenses of course. Then to the grocery store where more herds of Fuckwits dawdled in front of me, putting on the oblivious act each time. And another stop at her bank and back to the FFF house where I was to start the gardening activity. But as it "happened", she wanted an early lunch and so it was. Then she was to leave at 1300h and instead of starting the intended digging I decided to get a ride with her to the bus stop as I was packing a duffel bag full of the just-delivered clothes and my raingear which had been left at her place for the last three weeks.

And what a city bus freakshow it was; barely enough seats when I got on two stops from its suburban terminus, and then in short order it was standing room only. I had to keep my duffel bag in my lap, most of the contents being the once plastic wrapped new clothes. This total overpopulation of Fuckwits on the public transportation seemed to be all about the BIG EVENT of having new, plus a few old, clothes in this black duffel bag. To go out on a limb, the clothes had the energetics of the plastic wrapping and the cardboard box that they were shipped in and the perps wanted to test me with the Freaks and Fuckwits in all their finery, some dressed in beige longcoats for crissakes. An overcast day until the late rain today, around 1700h.

I agreed to help out a farmworker colleague to do minor repairs on her vehicle in the afternoon, and she came an hour earlier, so no afternoon tea and chocolate, something the perps would ordinarily have me eat for a full-out public gangstalking. I took my tools with me when she arrived, and she drove across town to the automotive store, and did the repairs in the parking lot. I had asked her by email as to where we would be doing the car fixing and she did not reply to that question. At least two other parties also "happened" to be doing the same nearby, so I helped her out. It was the tailight with the red translucent tape on it to keep it together, one liter of oil added, and cutting a replacement plastic mirror with my brand-new Fiskar titanium scissors. I reckon this latter task was a BIG EVENT too, more plastic handling games and with new scissors that had been unused for some six weeks in my apartment. And to have me do this at the other side of town as well. Regular readers and many TI's know that the perps go beserk when I am cutting objects, especially if using a new knife or scissors.

She also drove me to a cafe on the way back, and lapsed into her state of staring at me with a loopy smirk, something she does on occasion. That and the head flicking, and so I called it off earlier that originally intended, and by then a summer rain squall had set in, and so she drives me back without the wipers being put on, and the windshield getting more and more water beaded. Let it be said that there is no romantic interest on my part and if she wasn't so pestilent I wouldn't see her at all. That she plays ball with the perps hasn't gone unnoticed, and that she has worked at the same places I did last year and this year (farm laboring) has also heightened my suspicions. The perps keep promoting that she is really someone else in morph-over and I say so what? It is just another jerk gaming me, and she also "happens" to be grossly overweight, unattractive and a devious twit. I don't need anymore hassle from the so-called romantic side.

2020h
The pounding music noise has abated thankfully, used for "warm up" or "welcome home" greetings only. And tea-time with chocolate had the motorcycle noises from outside, though I wasn't convinced it was an actual motorcycle, just a noise only perturbation. Strange noises from unconventional sources is nothing new to me; my towels squeak when at my face, my blue jeans make whiffling noises like corduroy, and most everything I handle, especially crockery, makes extra noise even if the object is still or removed from the location it was, the noise continuing while the object is held in mid-air.

2155h
More pointless seeming shopping online, just looking though. The perps are decidedly wanting me to be familiar with cold weather gear, and in my last order they had me get a cold weather jacket and gloves. Sometimes these premonitionary purchases work out to be exactly what is needed for the next stage of harassment, other times, these purchases are nothing but an sorry reminder. The perps had me all cranked up to buy kitchen items last year, stainless steel measuring cups, spoon measuring set, a spatula, and two sieves. Only two items of the five have been used, and this seeming push to have me do more food preparation and change up my dull diet has amounted to nothing. An exercise in futility, something that the perps like to put me through as if plain life rape and constant vexation isn't enough.

This one is done for today; I would be interested to compare notes with other TI's as to the perp's rabid agenda over using scissors and knives, or anything else that they obsess over.

Last 2011 Outside Tan

2011-08-31T21:49:00.000-07:00

2000h
The last outside tan at the lake today, thing being the permitted skyclad site that I can get to on the bus with a 25 min. walk/hike. And it seems the sun is now too low to get any more tanning at this latitude, below 49 degrees. Same deal; the dudes go into natter mode with one standing up for a whole hour while doing so. (Standing while tanning seems to be another anisotropic variable that the perps want to test). Other dudes were in stand around mode, and of course there was plenty of representation from the male ponytail and longhair crowd too and a few tattoos too. About 20 males to four females, and in the latter category the one with the Scottish accent kept a lid on it for the most part, thankfully. The perps know I loathe Scottish accents and just when I have had enough of this bullshit. Maybe I should stick with salon tanning unless I have more conducive company when tanning outdoors. As I have mentioned before, the perps have a HUGE interest in sunlight, vitamin D and its physiologic effects, skin color and that it may change in response to suntanning and the skin itself. It wasn't enough they put on a red rash on my left forearm two days ago that seems to resist healing, so they put two quarter inch nicks on my right forearm when I was digging in my pack at the lake. Kind of a "starter blood sample" that wouldn't stop for a few minutes immediately before tanning. (A perp trademark; unstaunchable skin cuts).

I had my strange entourage around me on the bus in both directions, different characters of course. The outbound bus ride seems to be a precursor for the kind of wackos I meet at the lake; males with ponytails, skinheads, waddling walking, and the other comportment afflictions they seem to have that gets my attention, aka, are Unfavored. And three gangstalkers getting off the bus with me, all wearing or carrying denim for crissakes.

The overhead aircraft came over the lake while I was there, a seeming permanent condition everywhere I go that isn't served by landbased noise means. Though to be fair, yesterday, the perps laid on the aircraft (military four engine transport) when I was in the backyard of the First Feral Family house. They were exceptionally adroit in timing it to when I picked up my dishes cleaning brush I took there to repair with expoxy resin. Then my mother was all over me after that when I was sanding the brush handle to remove the oddly persistent adhesive from the raw wood brush handle, put there to prevent epoxy resin from seeping into it.

And what is with the Harley Davidson motorcycle noise today, especially this evening? And that it can bypass my earmuffs with impunity? Plenty of motorcycles on the road today, as well as them being used as non-noise making props. I have yet to figure out how they were used in the torture and abuse of children under the direction of these abuses when I was aged 2 to 5, the years most of my memory was wiped out by some means.

The purchase of a September bus pass seemed to get the perps worked up when I was at the LD store tonight. And yet again, they put on the male ponytail freak/staff member to putz with brown boxes exactly next to the skin creme section I was to peruse. But not with that freak who made it clear he doesn't give a shit about customers, stepping in front of me and no apology. This is the same shit I get from the stocker/stalkers at the adjacent supermarket, which begs the question as to how it could be possible that these supposed fugly Unfavored store stocking/stalking staff act all the same when they are supposedly independently staffed.

Extra light flashes and abberations these days; I seen on the TV at the FFF house that the perps were adding in red scan lines where the background color was green tree canopies of a forest. Then when I refuse to look at the TV and listen only, why, the same red color flashes erupt in my vision. I am also getting more masers, those fuzzy black balls that continually bounce around wherever I look, and they are now being made to look like a fly or insect that suddenly erupts in front of me.

2145h
More motorcycle noise heard through the earmuffs and timed for the exact moment of increasing my interest in what I was reading at that moment.

Enough of the pedantic, and off to digging soil again at the FFF house. There is one dug hole at the front for the perimeter drain hassle, (and additionally, crimping the water supply line with the excavator), and me digging down the hump of soil in the backyard along with sieving it to remove rocks, plastic garbage and couch grass roots.

Under the Trees and Then Out in the Sun

2011-08-30T21:50:00.000-07:00

1950h
This is at least the sixth day in the last two weeks of working in my perp abetting mother's backyard, sieving compost or soil, and partially under the overtopping pine trees or else out in the sun, depending on the sun angle and the exact location of where I was working. The perps just love me to come in and out of tree canopy shade and its overhead shelter and have been known to place "just standing there" gangstalkers under pubic boulevard trees, doing nothing but looking stupid. As the soil seiving and digging is on private property and off the beaten track in suburbia, there are no adjacent gangstalkers. Instead, I get overhead aircraft noise, neighbor noise (lawnmowers, chain saws (one today, with two distinct muffler variations)) and a plethora of passing vehicles; hotrods, heavy duty trucks, bad mufflers, diesels, sirens and motorcycles in all their variants (Harleys, Japanese high RPM, trail bikes).

At least four wasps independently buzzed me in the face this afternoon, and at no time was I disturbing a nest. I have had no end of insects harassing me since this abuse began in 04-2002, so all I can assume is that they too are under the perps' command.

I was working in the compost pile to separate the compost from the uncomposted debris some two weeks ago, and now I am involved in a 20'x12' area to level this ridiculous and pointless 2' hump in the level backyard. It is one of my perp-abetting father's legacies, not finishing the lot landscaping after some 40 years of living there. Another legacy is the slew of non-compostable garbage, usually plastics, that are embedded in the soil I am sieving. I separate all this out, in conjuction with the areal sheets of plastic I have dug up as part of this backyard landscape completion. Very often a noisestalking is scripted for the moment I pick up the plastic. My mother wasn't there for most of the day so I got things done on my terms, and not getting sandbagged by these infernal tea times she springs in the morning and afternoon.

Though today I got sandbagged by getting up later and having to attend to bedsheets laundry, as it seems the perps are waking me up in the night and imposing their required activities, e.g. jerking off. This normally does not happen for years on end, and suddenly it starts up almost every other night. Back to Wilheim Reich's theory of orgone energies (and here) and how orgasm releases them. It seems the perps are testing this, as for years they would arrange couples having sex next door or above me. I wonder what bozo flavor they will stiff me with next when they are ready to try me out again with a new girlfriend. Just leave me the fuck alone is all I ask.

So it seems the perps like to restrict me to some 4 hours of work in a day, but have mostly cooperated with having them sunny, and I get to work without a shirt and wearing shorts to keep the tanning up. Again, normally, I don't give a hoot as to how much tanning I get, but this summer it has become an obsession to the point that I prepared myself with a base tan at the tanning salon, and can now tan outside with no SPF and without burning.

2050h
A laundry fuckover tonight; the dryer appeared to work and then quit inside a minute, so my clothes sat wet in the dryer for two hours. I go to attend to the clothes, find them wet and figured the perps fucked the dryer cycle on me. I load another $1.75 and the dryer ran again for a minute and quit. Have we not done this one before, when the dryer would not dry but in effect steamed the clothes while tumbling? Yes, it was fixed about four weeks ago and the problem ran for at least six weeks prior to that with no notice on the dryer or anywhere else. So here we go again; mention it to the manager and see when it might get done and pay the privelige of $1.75 to find out or not as there will be no notice that it will be fixed.

The city bus freakshow wasn't too bad today, some 12 passengers inbound, unlike 3x as many for the same route and time of day I have recounted in past blogs. This is returning from the First Feral Family house to where I live in the downtown area. It was more of surrounding me with babes on the bus with an Asian closest of all, the same one who tailed me out the door at my stop. It was a blonde on the other side of the Asian, and a black haired attractive babe two seats over on the rear bench. But they did put on an Islamo-wacko in a full blown burqua late in the bus trip, having done this once before. This person got a seat at the front of the bus so I didn't have this hideous visage in my face thankfully. This is the second time on this route that this same burqua show has occured, and in both cases the respective seating and near maximum distance apart have been the same.

Other nonsense this morning was when I went to the PO to get my registered mail (passport) and coins at the bank for said laundry machines. The first gangstalker was this tall negro male in a full blown gown to his feet in a light soft green color. Like WTF; negroes are less thatn 3% of the population according to the last census, and here comes a negro in some kind of ceremonial garb. Walking behind him was a male vagrant act on his cell phone the entire time, a curious juxtaposition, though not unusual for cell phones to be used as a trailing EMF device. Two intersections were getting repaired on my two block visit to the PO and bank. I cannot count the number of times they arrange their dudes in overhead boom trucks and putzing with the wires or traffic signals. Often they put two boom trucks together, and three on occasion for a big event. Also, they were running wires or optical fiber under the road at the second intersection, (next to the bank), another one of their tricks I have come to know. (As in have me walk over top of an actively moving cable (optical or metal) along with the shills). Said under-road wiring crew were also in the bank, making out that this was a bank connection they were putting in. The perps cannot get enough of me making financial transactions and putting on all manner of concurrent stunts and stupid nonsense. This time they seemed to be taking it one more step by having a wire or cable that was inside the bank also travelling outside and under the road at one of the busiest downtown intersections, Fort and Douglas for locals. Why don't the perps pay me to carry a wire or whatever the fuck would expedite this now nine year old train of Extreme Abuse? I can never understand why they would be so mind-crippled to conduct this insane and abusive litany of inanity for so long on me and other TI's and yet have all manner of unconventional and remotely applicable physical methods at their disposal that can control the entire world. And here they are dicking around and tailing me with negroes, under-road wires and cables as well as the battalion of gangstalking dudes (mostly) made prominent by their large guts (the gut strut), baggy shorts, waddling walk, clustering and a coffee (think brown) in one hand.

I got "negroed" again as I exited the PO, and a third time on this morning time outing. And when I headed for the outbound bus, why, the seeming resident negro was holding court on the couch in the lobby as he often does for some kind of last ditch negro-stalking before I get to the elevator or stairwell. Not forgetting a few days ago that this same "lobby negro" hid behind the mailbox wall and then followed me into the elevator for a first time accompaniment with the fucker. Had I seen him in time I would of taken the stairwell.

Then when walking back from the inbound bus in the evening, a negro was in lead-ahead gangstallking mode for two blocks with this strange walk like he had a turd in his pants and was making allowance by making maximum lateral leg clearance. And for some reason my breakneck walking pace was not enough to catch up and pass this gruesome scenario.

Anyhow, time to call this one done for the day, and hope that my last day of my bus pass won't get weather changed and then keep me from visiting the lake. Who knew the perps would be so freaking rabid about sunlight exposure, skin color and tanning (changing to brown). I noted that after a day in the sun and getting tanned yesterday, they put me on a Caucasian cashier who was tanned but also had a large amount of dark brown freckles on her face. An eveningtime tan-freckle comparison it seemed. And she looked scared shitless as part of the deal, my usual reception for a first time cashier.

Digging for Plastic and Sunlight

2011-08-27T08:53:00.000-07:00

1855h
A continuation of the soil digging at my perp abetting mother's suburban house today. This is the "soil hump' project, where a 20' wide, 2' high soil hump was left as is in a near level flat backyard. Don't ask me how the perp abetting father missed getting this attended to some 30 years ago when he was still putzing with the landscape and grounds, having moved there to a new house in 1967. And I pulled out the seventh sheet of polyethylene plastic out of the ground on this project, and discovered another one that was too deep to get, plus the 2' high garden boxes are over top of this sheet. And at least one more sheet plastic corner hanging out of the ground. If nothing else, the ants just love having an impermeable layer over top of their nest, as this was the third ants nest I have discovered under either sheet plastic or 40 y.o. plastic laminate attached to rotted plywood. As usual, the noise increases as I am discovering, digging or handling these long buried "treasures" (as the perps see it); hot rod noise, overhead aircraft, lawnmowers varying pitch, heavy duty vehicles passing by on adjacent streets.

A sunny day, and reasonably warm, and no imminent hurricanes on the W. coast of N. America thankfully. And so.... in keeping with this year's "need" to get a good tan, I went to the FFF house wearing my just-picked up and altered shorts under my jeans. The intent was to dig with my shorts on, and shirt off, and in my big hiking boots that I normally wear for farm work. That did work for an hour maybe, but then the onset of irritable bowel like symptoms came on with the now know "remedy" of taking a shit. And this forced a shower to clean up, launder the shorts at my mother's place, and resume work in my jeans and wearing gumboots, shirt off. The shorts were later hung up on the backyard drying rack to dry, and some 40' from where I was working. My mother came back shortly afterwards, and started tea time to slow me up, and when I resumed I put my shirt on as there wasn't any more tanning time left in the day. Once I packed up for the day, the perps pulled another irritable bowel shit, and lo, if I didn't have to shower to clean up yet again. And following that, I retrieved my shorts from the line and put them on under my jeans just in case the perps pulled a shit-in-pants stunt on the bus on the way back. They didn't thankfully, but their stunts surely mixed up the afternoon in terms of sun tan exposure, body signature (twice showered), and clothing with footwear combinations; jeans over shorts in street shoes at first, shorts only with hiking boots, jeans with gumboots and finally jeans over just-laundered shorts with shirt and street shoes. And of course, I didn't get the sun tan exposure duration that I wanted, all afternoon was the plan, which was predictable in hindsight as they don't like me to have too much sun exposure after a near full day (yesterday at the lake).

And it was a rare instance of a normal inbound (return) city bus trip in terms of passenger load; some six to eight others on board, headed to downtown at 1800h. A back and forth pacing wacko/retard act at my departure bus stop who behaved himself onboard, but no other major freaks. A cute blonde in a sundress for the last five minutes even, sitting at the other side of the rear bench seat. In fact, the high strangeness was outside the bus. At least three Asian parties standing at street corners and not appearing to be pedestrians, doing just-stand-there duty. I had some six Asians around me on the bus when I first boarded it, but they got off at the suburban stops. The bus was also re-routed for some four blocks as there was an apparent street accident on its regular route. The bus driver has two way communication with a base who can direct them to reroute the bus in advance.

And another case of high strangeness was getting off the bus where there was a crotch spread dude sleeping on the adjacent grass boulevard with a bicycle in front of him. The long travelling cyclist act just "happens" to take a rest outside my bus stop. I notice the perps like to augment their operatives with bicycles of late; walking with them on the sidewalks (when they aren't illegally riding their bicycle on the sidewalk), hanging bicycles from the ceiling of the local supermarket as part of a contest, and even carrying their bicycle. All too stupid for this hikey-bikey town, and I suspect that the perps gain some kind of advantage from the tension and stresses of the metals of the spokes, rims and frame. Not to mention the variablity of materials for bicycles now; aluminum and carbon fiber and I even saw a trippy bicycle with bamboo struts.

And I see the power was shut down in this apartment block for part of the day, another perp interest it seems, to lower the EMF activity for a while to better assess the background level for absorption and re-emittance.

08-27-2011
I will get this posted soon as there will be a two day stay at the FFF house. A near sleepless night as the perps replayed ideations from themes and scenes they hadn't played in mind for over a year. Hence the accompanying noise each time a planted ideation came on, fromm outside noises of dude and yobo hollaring to excessive (augmented) noise from my fingertips, skin and hair on the sheets. And head flipping inside of a minute even, plus ear itches to cause me to scratch and then an outside noise at the moment of contact. Then they get me up an hour earlier for sheet washing.

The night before they had me get up and take a shower to then apply more vitamin E creme, the second application after the total toasting when at the skyclad beach the day before. Then yesterday's containment of tanning was near identical to last week's when they had me suddenly stop. Past tanning, apart from the recent two skyclad beach/lake events has often been accompanied by sudden cessations in farm work or sudden weather changes. Anyhow, I know so little of this aspect of their insane quest I should stop while I am ahead and call this posting done for a few days.

Tanning Outside

2011-08-25T22:38:00.000-07:00

1740h
A second visit to the lake to get tanned skyclad, this "habit" playing out for the second time this summer, and was also a "habit" back in 2003-04. Back then, my "need" to do a post-hike lake swim totally stopped, even if the hiking continued to mid-2006. I stil don't get any hiking done as I don't have a vehicle to get to remote trailheads. This lake is city bus route proximate with a 20 min. hike in, making it accessible to me at least.

It was busy there, and much like last week but with 20% more dudes, another Testicle Festival type of male crowd. (No fawning babes if you follow the drift, or else look up 2011 Testical Festival online). One of my wharf neighbors mentioned that there were three people there the day before at 1300h, and at the same time today there was at least 20, expanding to 35 or so when I departed at 1520h. Which goes to show there is an organized crowd that comes with me, aka gangstalkers. And at least one dude from this Unfavored demographic with additional Unfavored features; skinhead, tattoos, waddling gait, UK accent, dreadlock hair, all Caucasian though. So... much less sun intensity today, so I suspect that this will be my last visit for outside sun tanning in keeping with the perp's sunlight/vitamin D physiologic interactions, along with brown skin of varying tones. This was the first tanning with my shaved arms, and I suspect this might be part of their color equation games as well. Now to ponder the fall and what it will bring.

2230h
A need to have a shower after dinner and then lather myself with skin creme. This is the way to have a tan persist for longer and get deeper apparently, by moisturizing one's skin and then keeping it that way with the application skin creme. A new jar of skin creme from last week, though the same brand and type. The perps seem to be still building their model of skin absorption and keep certain factors fixed; in this case, varying the packaging and contents age. Other recent games related to this is their model of water absorption through the skin; last week's lake swim was the first since 2004. Though for two other recent lake visits, including today, I somehow didn't want to swim, even if I am very comfortable doing so and swam for 13 years for 3x/week in organized practices that ran one hour until 1999.

I am going to call this one done as a early bedtime beckons after last night's disruptions and stunts to keep my awake or in a light REM sleep as it seemed. They like to distort my notion of how much sleep I get at least once per week.

Digging for Plastic

2011-08-24T21:20:00.000-07:00

2040h
I spent five hours digging at my perp abetting mother's place today, levelling a 20'x20' area in one corner of the backyard that the perp abetting father left undone for some curious reason. A 2' hump, even with lawn over it, does not qualify as complete. And all the more curious is these sheets of plastic, some 4'x2' or bigger, that are buried 6" to 14". I dug up two today, the fifth and sixth such burried sheets that are totally inexplicable as to why there are there. And too, buried plywood with laminate on it, a 3'x2' section, which was carefully dug up to keep it as intact as possible for ease of removal. Another WTF; as this house was built in 1967, and these plastics and laminates were not part of the house construction (I was there), where did this building debris come from?

But as we know the perps to be obsessed over plastic in all its forms, and kinds, and especially old plastic, it makes sense. Also, we know that the perps are obsessed over soil in all its facets (genesis, color, compostion (sand, silt, clay)) as well as roots, and we have a near perfect confluence of insane perp fuckery/nonconsensual research. These buried plastic sheets directed roots to grown under them or between them in the case of two buried plastic sheets from the six removed so far. And there are plenty of roots about as this digging/releveling is under 50' pine trees, and 10' from a cedar hedge. So... we have also the feature of me being under trees, then out in the open, and back and forth while I dig up this section of ground. I spent some 10 hours last week immediately adjacent sifting the compost pile last week, so the perps have a recent profile of me working under these same trees, and then outside of their canopies, then in partial tree shade.

And of course, the perps are also obsessed with me going in and out of tree canopies, in both forest and urban landscapes. Another thing they like to do is to exploit these partial shade, aka dappled light conditions, to then change the light and shadow to be like a stroboscope. And they know more than I as to what stroboscopic frequencies I don't like, and make sure I know about it. So here we have a Perfect Fuckover, a four-way confluence of perp research interest; under and partial tree shade conditions, plastics exposures, soil exposures and root exposures. Or, if one counts the adjacent compost pile (more than a cubic yard) some 6' away, then it is a five-way confluence. Perfect for adding in lawnmower neighbor noise, overhead aircraft noise (STRATCOM B-52's and local float equipped Turbo Beaver aircraft), and the dreaded trail bike motorbike noise, of equal loathing to the Harley Davidson motorcycle noise I often get. And now that I am back in my apartment downtown, why, more trail bike motorcycle noise, even getting through my earmuffs from six stories below no less. Funny how that happens, one particular kind of motorcycle noise featured all day.

Other nonsense was this morning when the wretched alterations woman in the next block didn't have them ready as promised. And for finding that out, I got the same stand-around negro dude as last week (in a "security" gaurd outfit) and an added blonde with a small dog on a leash. Obviously, they needed to build up the gangstalking from last week, as both seemed to be standing around and let me go by to the counter and ask about my garment being ready. I have no conventional reason to explain why the same negro security gaurd, as last week was loitering around this alterations shop, as the woman who runs it is pushing 60 and weighs close to 300lb, and gave up long ago on looking attractive. regular readers will recall that this same negro loitered in the doorway, back to the door, and was yacking with the alterations woman while I was waiting outside to get in. Then he gives me the stare. But today, I was to give him the stare, but he wouldn't look at me, the gutless fucker.

And some 15 min. later after the bus was 10 minutes late, I was "negroed" (aka negro gangstalkers far more numerous than the 3% of the last census statistics) with a negro woman on the bus, and then again after she departed, a negro dude came on, and from 25' away, he gives me the stare while doing a hang-dog pose. Like WTF, why are these fucking assholes staring at me all the time?

Then again on the inbound bus, coming back; a Caucasian male in a suit gives me the stare, and then artfully turns away just as I am about to return the stare. This wasn't the only staring on the bus; my three seats-away neighbor on the bus, in a commercial painter outfit, makes a move to get up just as I am about to get up, and then when I look at him to determine what the fuck he is doing, he is already staring at me, ready for this confrontation of staring as it were. This commerical painter act has been seen many times in the past three months, and I cannot image why such a trade would ever be riding the city bus. This one was all the more stupid as he was riding from suburbia to downtown at 1800h, a reverse commute, All part of the managed inanity I am forced to live in.

That is it for today, as I must get ready for tomorrow's outing in the forest in part, and then to get more tanned than ever, as it to be a full sunshine day, a rarity this summer.

Shaved Arms

2011-08-23T21:33:00.000-07:00

1200h
After three months of planted ideations, and at least three almost-happens, I shaved my arm hair last night, and maintained it this morning with the full frontal shave that has become the daily norm. I cannot say it does anything for me, visually at least, unlike the leg hair shaving which makes for great looking (male) legs, with the usual caveat of being kept in an environment of total perceptual fuckery/mangement. There is no question that the perps have been testing me intensely for my own sense of aesthetics in the past few years, and I am sure they can now manage it (as in remotely emulate it). What they are still working on is the Unfavored demographic group examples; e.g. skinheads, wheelchairs, waddling dudes, baggy shorts wearing dudes, bag hats and other headwear and so it goes. Presumably to remotely determine my abreactions during the days they plied their abuses and deleted my recall, thinking they had "fixed" the problem. Nossir, we now know that subconscious observations records anything and will inherit the emotional valence and good/bad determination of like prior events. Not my problem, but it is made my made to be in acute form, by way of covert/overt harassment.

And so a busy morning with bedsheet laundry to do, then I "find" that the CD's I ordered it were in my mail box despite the fact that the package tracking indictated delivery today sometime. And I noted that the lobby floor where the mailboxes are was just mopped with a still wet sheen in some places. This has to be the perp's favorite floor preparation method for a Big Event (as defined by them) after vacuum cleaning. And as the perps have been pissing with my parcel deliveries without fail for some nine years now, recieving a parcel is such a Big Event.

I might be the only person who purchases CD's these days, but is seems the perps want to keep me contained in this model rather than the rip-it-for-free (how does the artist make a living?) most of the rest of the world operates in. Even pulling off the shrink wrap from the CD is a noisestalked event, possibly because the cover shows the artist's face (Alela Diane) and viewing her image first through the shrink wrap and then without is also a Big Event.

1320h
This looks to be a housebound containment day, aka shut-in day. Such followed when I initially shaved my legs a few months ago. I am being kept company by the four CD's that arrived today. The weather is good enough to do landscape maintenance at my mother's place, but somehow I lack the initiative to get going. All these "somehows" in retrospect were perp imposed it seems, though I do not know why they arrange events and their relative importance.

2115h
More music listening, this time to Suzanne Vega, A Retrospective. I am not totally won over, but she is listenable for the most part. Not as folkie as I expected as I learned, and as the album booklet suggests.

Plenty of bookmarking web pages tonight, having "found" Rolling Stone's Greatest 500 albums of all time. Sort of, as it has a heavy rock music (aka punk, heavy metal) bias and some of the albums are anthologies that were released later. Anyhow, a rich vein to see if I am missing some essential albums of the kind of music I prefer, as in melodic with lyrics that add up to a story or statement. Now to rip the four albums to disc to build my digital library. And here we are, still in pissing matches over music file formats; WMA, FLAC, Apple Lossless. That takes planning to have something so fundamental so messed up. I wonder who would of arranged that?

Enough of the daily dulldom for this contained shut-in day, post body (arms) hair first time shave, surely today's Big Event.

A Midsummer's Rain

2011-08-22T23:15:00.000-07:00

1550h
A high harassment Monday after departing the First Feral Family house after lunch and taking the city bus to downtown where I live. It is a rainy Monday after a week of sunshine, due to be followed by another week of sunshine. Water, in the appropriate amounts and sources, seems to be an important adjunct to the harassment/research imperative, and that of course includes rain. The perps had me fitness swimming 3x/week for nearly 15 years to 1999, but have sharply curtailed it since. As mentioned in the past blog posting, I had my first lake swim since 2004, and that was only at the second lake I visited, not the skyclad hangout. But it seems, they wanted me with the berry picking colleague for this important event, even though she is nothing to look at and has a psoriasis skin conditon with plenty of ugly blotches. I have long noted that water drops can come from nowhere and arrive nearby, and anytime I am in contact with running water one can be sure there are errant drops that somehow leap laterally opposite to the expected direction. Showers are also fraught with water flying in unexpected directions as well as having it drain off me for unusually extended durations after the faucet is turned off. And too, water main leaks and fire hydrant eruptions have a curious habit of "happening" in my proximity.

And to not forget the perps' intense interest in the water supply that feeds food crops; the farm work for the last four years has been part of it, from aluminum pipes with steel risers and brass sprinkler heads, PVC water guns, polyethelyne drip lines, hose nozzle (also hose type and color) and perhaps long ago, watering cans. As always, the color of the pipes and sprinkler heads is imporant too. I got hit with a $5k tab to replace the steel and plastic water lines for the farm property I once owned, some 600' of white PVC line was put in to deal with a horrendous (as it turned out) leak problem that was over 660,000 gallons for three months in the winter. I reduced it to a tenth of that with the water line replacement, but I am sure the previous owner must of known it and didn't mention it. Anyhow, the water games in all their facets is still playing out and I have no idea what it all means.

The noise games continue of course; hot rods, motorcycles (though limited in the rain), heavy duty vehicles and the like. The in-town brother is on some kind of strange communication script. He was lining me up for today some three days ago to do some work for him today, and even this morning he phones at 0900h to the FFF house for me, wanted me to call back, and when I did he didn't answer his phone. When he finally called back he said he would call me in a half hour and never did. All to have "phone moments" when I first got up, before I had a shower at the FFF. Regular readers will know that I suspect phone calls, an EM disturbance brought to one's ear and mouth, are used for perp reserarch games, and of late, it seems to be all about the timing at critical junctures; after getting up, with chocolate in me, before and after showers, at the moment of gift giving, and all these high energetic transition moments. All part of the show, and of course, cell phones being the ultimate localized EMF disturbance. Why, in the news, there was a baseball fan on the phone who made a one handed fly ball catch in the stands. Talk about a made-for-the-perps moment.

2045h
I neglected to mention that while at the FFF house this morning, the gardeners arrived wearing their T-shirts (absurd, in the rain!) and began some three hours of hedge trimming. They had already been by twice in the prior two weeks leaving hedge and shrub trimming partially completed, but chose to finish this job while I was there and kept inside the house. About a week ago they arrived to trim a front yard hedge while I was in the backyard sifting the compost pile. Last year I trimmed the 60' long backyard hedge with a rented gasoline power trimming shears, but it seems this year they wanted me in the house and at least hearing their gasoline powered tools undertaking the same job. At about lunch time they put most of the cuttings and trimmings in their small pickup truck and drove off. After lunch I drove the vehicle with my mother to be dropped off at a nearby bus stop, and lo, if the garden workers weren't driving toward the house with the full load of garden trimmings. Which begs the questions; where did they go for the intervening hour with the garden trimmings, and secondly, why were they driving in the direction of the FFF house with a full truckload? But as so many of the perp games are all about landscaping, grass cutting, hedge pruning, and other landscape plant maintenance activities, this "drive around with a truckload of foliage" game wasn't too surprising. Even going back to the early Fuckover days of post 04-2002, they were stalking me with foliage laden gangstalking trucks, and even arranging nearby overnight parking of such.

Enough of the perp silliness for tonight, and onto tomorrow and to find out what nonsense they have scripted.

Blueberry Picking

2011-08-21T13:01:00.000-07:00

2115h
My colleague of strawberry and raspberry picking at two farms last year, and one this year, invited me to go blueberry picking today, a Saturday, as it is a day off from her horticulture classes. I hadn't been blueberry picking before, but it is decidedly cushy compared to strawberries. Blueberry picking has the attributes of stand-up picking and without the evasiveness of raspberries that grow behind leaf cover. I knew my colleague had excellent fine motor skills, backed up by her knitting and weaving hobbies, and was a decent berry picker except that she missed so many. But with blueberries, she outpicked me by almost 2:1, 60lb to my 33lb. At a pay rate of $1/lb, that adds up to a considerable difference in pay. But as I know my minders like to keep me as a klutz, I don't see berry picking as my future in any event. And sure enough, the perps made sure berries dropped from my hands or even powered them out of my hand by having them climb uphill (with no other imparted or evident energy forces), out of my hand and onto the ground. There was a border of fine wood chips at the base of the blueberry bushes so it was dificult to find dropped berries. And a grass border was between each row, making it positively cushy as what was underfoot.

And true to form, my attempt at sun tanning while picking was suddenly terminated at about 1200h (after about an hour of wearing my shorts) when picking was suddenly called off. The perps like me to only get a certain amount of sun exposure on my skin, so it seems that sun tanning is going to be limited this year. The perps have an abiding interest in Vitamin D research, skin color (melanin content) and the processes of its genesis as well as that of the physiological effects of Vitamin D. This has been the year of the most sun tanning I have done since 2004, so it seems they have decided to resume this particular research topic in substantially more detail. Hence the new "need" this year to get a base tan at the tanning salon.

And a visit to a local lake to have a post-berry picking swim. As my colleague has psoriasis, she doesn't do sunbathing, so it was more about being in the water than anything. This was the first allowed lake swim since 2004, so it must be an opportune time for the perps to re-test me on this activity.

And a stop at roadside market on the way to the swimming lake, which was a total clusterfuck of vehicles and personnel in the store. I was at this same location yesterday, as I did some driving for my mother, and "happened" to stop there, again, to a clusterfuck. More of the crossing paths they like me to do, though two days apart.

More games when I got back; laundering my clothes this time, as they had extra sand from the post berry picking beach visitation arrive on the clothes. Hence, they had some items get washed twice, and the towel only once as it somehow missed getting sand laden in the same laundry load. My running shoe footwear also got put in the same laundry load as it had some sand in them even if I did dump it all out and cleaned up my feet in the bathtub.

Then a forced nap between laundry loads, of about an hour. This then was the excuse the perps used to make me feel cognitively clobbered for the rest of the afternnoon and evening, a dull headache and muted thought with extra noisy ear-ringing, a constant noise now.

Then no more chicken in the fridge, which ordinarily been cause to make a Chicken Run visitation to the nearby supermarket, but as my shoes were still wet, I ate my sardine rations instead. Again, I don't know quite what the perps get from me eating sardines, but this one goes back to childhood.

Tonight, sudden vision perturbations, especially while reading the news of HP departing the consumer market and heading to the commercial sofware. Naturally, all WebOS afficianados are pissed, as are the Palm followers, me included. It seems they wanted to kill off WebOS and the shutdown of a premature Touchpad effort. There is no failure like a planned one, which are usually spectacular, e.g. $1.2 billion pissed away on the Palm acquisition of last year. This is reminiscent of the Flip aquisiton by Cisco, written off for a $530 million dollar bill.

08-21-2011
Yesterday's lake swim is still the deemed reason for having differential ear pressure, and feeling quite fogged from it. This was at breakfast, but in the following shower the ear pressure differential was allowed to be relieved and the results have persisted for the remainder of the day.

Back on laundry, this time bedsheets and towels. I see the towels are getting soiled in short order, as if were from farm work, but as I am not doing any, how is it that this identical crud is getting onto the towels? Not to mention that I come out of the shower clean, without any crud on me, and somehow this soil crud arrives on my towel just as I apply the towel to dry myself.

Enough to call this a posting and wrap it up, as I will be staying at the First Feral Family house tonight, and have limited web access there.

Compost Slinging

2011-08-18T21:36:00.000-07:00

08-16-2011
A male negro, seeming security personnel, was lollygagging in the doorway to the alternations shop, and gives me a stare for no reason while I was waiting for him to get himself out of the way. Like WTF; he was the twit to be standing in a doorway, and he then stares at me. Nothing like a missing apology to stoke my annoyance all the more.

Then a city bus ride to the First Feral Family house as I wanted my mother's vehicle to also pick up my paycheck at the farm I had been working at. And at the penultimate bus stop, why, a major leggy negro woman wearing high shorts stops in my path on the bus, making out that she is undecided about seating choices when there are ample avaiilble. She had a fellow negro woman wearing pants, and eventually they decided to sit 3' past me. No problem, just that I had to cross their path in short order as I was to get out at the next stop.

And sieving compost for some four hours; the third time to finish the pile (started from leaves in fall 2010, and the box, kitchen waste since spring 2011) with the usual neighborhood noise of of lawnmowers, chainsaws, overhead aircraft and hotrods and other loud mufflered vehicles that somehow find me in deep suburbia. The perps just love me to be slinging compost, as there is something elemental about it, and life itself, that interests them no end. Ms. C of the story got her master composter's certificate when I was hanging out with her 2000 to 2003, off and on. Though, it was in character and fitted in with her "earth mother" persona.

A city bus freakshow on the way back, eventually 25 or so on a Tuesday at 2000h, which is ridiculous number of passengers at that time of day and in that direction (reverse commute) There were two flushes of three talkative dudes with two young women in between, also talkative. Eventually, there were four others with me on the rear bench seat looking at their smart phone screens (LCD display). Another in front of me was a book reading dude, with another smart phone screen reading Fuckwit past him. So they had me covered in two orthogonal directions with LCD viewing gangstalkers, and an analog (book) reader on one of the directions. As mentioned in past blog postings, the medium that is being read by the adjacent gangstalker is as important as the content or the color of the display. It seems they needed to make some correlations between a book reader and LCD readers, and likely, comparing whatever else they also pump into LCD devices.

And a burqa act boarded the bus; black hooded and brown gowned, the color combination straight out of the perp color book. Thankfully this "thing" (as I term it) didn't sit within my purview, something the perps are prone to do, putting visually offensive Unfavoreds in unavoidable view.

08-17-2011
Yesterday's early visit to downtown for lens cleaning solution, (and getting the opening hours wrong for the bookstore), was a "warm up" for today; passport office then bank ATM with a cell phoner just outside next to the window, 6' away. Then came the plastic bag rustling dude at the next ATM. The vagrant swarms were also out on the street, one needing to get in front of me, and then turn the corner ahead of me also toting his plastic bag, then to be faced with a running Asian woman coming at me.

And the baggy shorts on dudes, as well as their waddling walking; I just cannot get over this ridiculous get-up that is so unbecoming. Yes, this is a hikey-bikey town, but baggy shorts doesn't fit.

All this at 0830h and hordes of people out, almost like if there were stores open, which don't open until 1000h.

At the passport office the paint splattered dude (as in faux commerical painter), was doing the lounging/chatting act at the next passport offfice booth, adroitly dressed in the same color as my file folder in which I kept the passport documents. (Not to mention that the file folders, purchased in a box of 150 natual toned buff color (off-white), were somehow augmented with brown colored file folders. Funny how these things "happen".

And what is with the passport office; they ask me if I have any immediate travel plans and I tell them about a potential job offer in Nigeria and they don't say anything more. Only after completion of all the details and getting my reciept do I find out, upon asking, that the passport takes two to three weeks.

1645h
Back from a three hour skyclad toast in the sun, at a clothing optional lake. I hadn't been there since 2004, when the interest waned, even if I had a vehicle to get there until mid-2006. But somehow today, I got the motivation to go, even if it was taking a city bus and hiking in 25 minutes. One could suspect the perps are putting me through the same ropes as they did then, only it has taken them seven freaking years to re-test me on this facet of the life rape program. And way more dudes there, some 25 in all, and only four females at most. (Only 10 to 15 at most on weekdays back in 2004). For some reason the gender imbalance is substantially more now. But that might have been to aid them in placing at least six skinheaded males around me, and had others with their shaved testicles (like mine). The perps made sure I saw plenty of them anytime I looked around. And with the perps' light reflective games one could sense there was a theme here, one of tight skin pulled over round surfaces with some reflectivity added in. That is to say male skinheads, testicles and penis heads all got prominent billing anytime I looked around and had much the same light reflectance properties. But also, similar color properties; darker purple colored skinheads to emulate penis heads in color (and shape in part) it seemed. All too disgusting at times, so I looked away. Hopefully I will get a decent tan out of it, being there for three hours of prime suntan time, enough to fill out the lines of socks and shorts when getting at tan while standing at picking raspberries. It would seem the orientation of one's body, upright or horizontal, is also important to the perp's sunlight, skin color, vitamin D, and related immune system reactions they are so interested in. Ditto for stand up and horizontal tanning at the tanning salon.

motocycle driving sunbather dude took a whole five minutes of standing at the ladder to jump into the lake. Any excuxe for standing around.

And what is with the sudden increase of waddling males, very often in baggy shorts to below their knees? Even more of this today, though I suppose that summertime casual wear could be a viable excuse to look so ill-dressed. And too, a sudden eruption of shirtless males, even downtown for crissakes.

I got the negro gangstalker treatment once I got out of the park, and she was walking with a Caucasian blonde woman of the same age. So it would seem that they want me to get "negroed" after tanning outside.

And when walking in downtown; a "just stand-there" gangstalker; a male with his motorcycle helmet on on the sidewalk, no motorcycle evident.

Other headwear that seems to be a big part of the harassment is fedoras. Sure, they look campy on young girls, but for the rest of the fedora wearing population, apart from old men, they look absurd to me. And in the middle of the summer no less.

08-17-2011
0900h
Off to the First Feral Family house to do some more gardening work. Likely the timing is important following yesterday's excessive sun tanning. No sunburn thankfully, and it is starting to turn brown from red, surely a high perp interest these skin color changes.

1800h
Back from toiling in the landscape of the FFF house. And it was more pruning again, first a bush and then the lavender, my mother starting the latter yesterday. The drain inspection service was there, and lo, if he couldn't get his snake/probe into the outlet section to the city, so... guess who has to dig a hole next to the foundation? The perps never lack for stunts to have me dig soil, or otherwise transport it.

The plant "pruning thing" never ends; use electric clippers, then shears to tidy up, and when switching from one to the other it becomes a big noisestalk event. As previously mentioned, the perps have an intense interest in the application of cutting tools; knives, shears, graters, pliers etc. And not forgetting agricultural applications of shearing soil at depth and running the soil through conveyors and having yours truly dig it over to pull out daffodil bulbs.

Yet again the background of increased neighborhood noise; low flying (500') aircraft, fixed wing and helicopter, hot rod muffler noise, and even some street works commotion on the adjacent street with dump trucks and maybe even paving activity.

City bus freakshow again; skinheaded males, one doing the "just stand there" rountine, now observed for the second time, where the Fuckwit stands immediately in front of their seat. In this case he had been sitting in it for half the trip (10 min.), then he gets up making like he was going to give up his seat, and only when I am at the exit do I notice that he didn't give up the seat, he just made it look that way at a busy passenger boarding moment and was standing all the time with the edge of the seat at the back of his legs. I have mentioned in the past that public transportation is nothing more than a mobile gangstalking platform.

2100h
And what is with the "offer-no-offer" games? One of my former berry picking colleagues offers me to go with her picking blueberries on both days of the coming weekend. I say sure, and then don't hear anything for three days. I enquire, and she later gets back to me saying there isn't enough picking for me to be taken on. This little scenario ended yesterday.

Then today, I get a telephone message from her asking me if I want to go out for a light snack. On the message she indicated she would call back before 1990h. It was about 1730h, and I phone back about 1800h and leave a message on her answering service. And I don't hear back from her at all. I get a plenty of these aborted offers, and it a total pain. Twice in two days is plenty from this source and hopefully the assholes will write her out of the script. This person has followed me through three employments, and was the foil to talk to me back when daffodil flower picking in February, when this horrendous looking negro would come into view. This "happened" three times in two weeks, so whoever this berry picking colleague is (in non-morph form), she seems to be an essential player, now for more than a year. . Though, she also seems to get name dropped; that is, others at the farm job would always ask about her even if they knew I wasn't very close, and didn't want to be. Time for some more interesting colleagues, especially female ones.

The Nigeria database job recruiter hasn't got back to me for four days now. I can be sure this was all about dropping African state names and invoking the negro inferences that the perps surely like to play up. There is no way the perps are going to have me earn 5x the going rate just to be placed in a negro-swamping situation.

Anyhow, enough of the loose ends, and time to post this one.

Week; Aug. 09 - 15, 2011

2011-08-15T18:39:00.000-07:00

08-09-2011
Farm work; weeding all day; some 40+ on bus (reverse commute) on way back at 1800h, and enough piss-offs (parking in front of me, and having hands that clutched the rail near me for no seeming reason) that I walked partway back. There was also another all time first of public stupidity on the city bus. The dude who stood in front of me while seated then went to a seat on the raised deck where I was sitting and then stood immediately in front of an empty seat for at least 8 minutes until I got off. Like WTF; he wanted a seat enough that he moved to a vacant seat, and then stands in front of the seat with his head lowered to avoid the overhead grab bar. I have never seen anything so fucking perverse as this on the city bus, but as always, there will be something.

Tuesdays are my return to farm work after a day off, and the only other excitement I can think of for the perps might of been the fact that I change to a new razor blade to shave in the morning. This would be the face and full frontal shave, separate from the leg shave that is now once per week with a different blade (3 blades instead of 2) and razor handle combination.

Another possibility for the perp's increased gangstalk intensity was that many of the street linee were repainted I noticed on the return trip (walking and city bus riding). Not only did they repaint white crosswalks in the Municipality of Sannich, but also in the City of Victoria. Effectively two separate cities somehow arranged to repaint the street lines on the same day on my route back into downtown. Simply amazing.

80-10-2011
Farm work; picking raspberries and then was faked out by the sun coming out to take off my pants for my shorts. That lasted a whole 5 minutes, before the sun went away, and some 10 minutes later picking was called off and I put my pants on again as we were to be doing potato washing.

This odd dude with a ponytail was hanging around the warehouse for some strange reason, and lo, if he didn't "help" on the potato washing. I was on pre-wash debris removal, with two others beside me, and the ponytail act stands across from me, (normally no one stands there as they are in the path of the debris being flung from the conveyor), and participates in the potato washing line. Like WTF; I have never seen this guy before, and he doesn't know jack about what potato features are defects (he asks me), and here is is just arrived and in the middle of this job.

And I have mentioned the infernal hassles the perps like to arrange when working conveyor lines in the past, as this has occured when daffodil bulb sorting in each of the past three years. And lo, if this ponytailed dude didn't do the exact same thing; reach for objects that were under my fingers as I was attempting to grab them, contact my hands as I was reaching for things, and make a fuck up of it by hauling back items on the conveyor to then cascade over where I was looking/working.

Lunch was called afterward, and I sit at the picnic table outside the warehouse building. And lo, if this ponytailed dude didn't sit down across from me. The farmer's son's girlfriend (gorgeous looking babe) also "happens" to come by and I say my hellos and respond to her greetings. About 10 minutes later, the farmer's son comes out and introduces the ponytail act and tells me that I will be working with him to set up the stage and the tent walls. (A 60'x90' vinyl covered fabric tent canopy was installed the week before). So... I get to help him set up the stage, and he was a decent enough person that I struck up a conversation with him over the afternoon. There were some mentally retarded group at a nearby picnic table under the tent awning for a while, and another woman was doing the walk-pasts in baggy shorts, an apparent future clown performer evaluating the stage size. The ponytail guy was decent enough to give me a ride downtown to where I live. Somehow we got onto the topic of negroes, and he said one told him about negroes that were so black that they looked bluish. I said I hadn't seen any like that, not mentioning the negro gangstalking. And so when we pull into the street where I live, why, a negro is backing his vehicle out of a driveway to a below ground parkade, seeming in mid-street turnaround mode. Another negro was holding court in the lobby of the apartment building, propped up on the couch there.

08-11-2011
Farmwork; weeding, picking raspberries until 1730h.

When I get back I return a call from a local recruiter about a database design project, and it is in Nigeria no less, and includes an ample provision for danger pay as it is in an armoured compound. A two weeks on, one week off arrangement, though I wonder how one could really have a week off for all the travelling needed. I send him resumes and references, and along the way I touch upon my nine year absence from the IT world, last year's Oracle DBMS training I took, and he is going to look into it.

So on the face of it, this kind of money they would be offering is very generous, at least three to four times the going rate. And so would the perps be sending me off to Nigeria for six months (for negro exposure swamping?) at that pay level when they have been keeping me at about $1,000/month for the last nine years? In all likelihood no. And would an IT outfit send me, nine years out of the business, to a remote project? In all likelihood no. And so, what is really about? Very likely this is about putting the notion of Africa, Nigeria, negroes in mind for a week, all part of the gratuitous name dropping that seems to be an important element in this abuse and harassment derangement. Seeing that they wouldn't let me go and work on a region Gulf Island (Gulf of Geogia) vineyard some two months back, I don't expect to be going to a foreign continent anytime soon. We shall see.

08-12-2011
Farm work; weeding strawberries, then picking raspberries, then weeding carrots to finish off the day.

08-14-2011
It is my last day of farm work I learn at day's end; I had been expecting this for the past week as raspberry picking was slowing down, which was the same timing when I got terminated last year. When one is relagated to the class of "berry pickers", separate from the Mexicans and the "regulars", one can be sure that as soon as the berry picking ends so does the employment. Not to fret, as I could do with some summer time off, and have yet to get this Nigerian job prospect thought through. And too, at least one Mexican was getting on my nerves by hanging around me, crossing in front or behind me, and otherwise putting on the same gangstalking moves I get on the street. Plus, the supervisor prevarications were becoming more frequent, so I could do with some relief from this insane imposition.

08-15-2011
A Sunday night stayover at the First Feral Family house, getting my weekly dose of TV, aka, bathing in the magnetic field of the CRT TV.

This morning, I was slinging more compost at the FFF house, sieving it with the usual progression of neighborhood noise; chain saws, lawnmowers, hotrod muffler noise from adjacent streets, overhead aircraft, (even two at once at differing altitudes), not to mention the STRATCOM B-52's noise overhead, at least two in the morning.

And while putting this blog together, a sudden full screen Fuckover in the browser session. It was eventually resolved by having to launch IE from its directory as it was somehow purged from my programs list. And then killing the Mozilla Firefox session by way of Task Manager. And it is the F11 key for toggling full screen off and on, and my fingers were nowhere near it when it accidentally "happened". As it is a Monday, this is a day of increased harassment, noise, duress and plain abuse.

Time to post this and call it done. A week off as I see it, and the weather/perp machinations is cooperating to supply sunny weather, which might be enticing enough to go to the beach this week for a full-on skyclad sun tan outside. All part of the perp's games related to skin color, vitamin D and downstream effects and whatever else they are busily researching in this realm.

Add-on
Today's doctor appointment was more about the weirds in the waiting room, and even one who started ahead of me outside, the Green Geriatric. He was sitting on the outside bench when I drove past to find a parking spot. Then when walking in he arranged himself to be 40' ahead, and in the waiting room when I got there. He was in a light green shirt, dark green pants, a green wide brimmed mesh hat and had a large dark green glossy paper shopping bag. And so he putz's around at the seats opposite, taking off his sweater (oddly, as it was warmer outside than inside), andwith the tissue paper in the shopping bag. This sucker is at least 6'3" and over sixty, and eventually sits down some 7' away, facing me. Meanwhile, the freakshow parade starts up, and that included the Fat Dark Woman who is the regular receptionist (blonde girl on instead), as well as the asshole case counsellor on her cell phone who screwed me out of a $7 grant in 2009. After some five minutes the Green Geriatric gets called off and within a minute, a same green color shirted younger dude in tan brown pants cruises through, gets called by a seeming case counsellor in a dark brown outfit, and then he sits down in the same seat as the Green Geriatric. Anyhow, other fat folks and weirds patrol or seat themselves, and some ten minutes after my appointment start time, the doctor calls me in. (Interestingly, no one else was during the 15 min. of wait time). The appointment was another "who cares" one, with me doing the talking and him saying squat, and I was out of there in less than 15 minutes.

I took the bus back to downtown, and had another wacko gangstalker, this time a younger woman, a major Fat Girl with breasts like suspended cantelopes in this outfit that was straight out of some Spanish dance troupe, this at 1430h. A black front laced tight top with plenty of cleavage visible between the horizontal laces, and this frilly dress with red under-skirt projecting outward (like at tutu) that didn't quite reach her knees. On her feet she had these tall black glossy leather boots that went to just below her knees, buckles all the way up. She ended up seated nearly opposite me in the lower deck portion, in the transverse seats. Quite the sight to say the least, but worse yet, was that she had 2" high calligraphic tattoos across her chest, just over the edge of her costume. It wasn't in English even, perhaps Spanish, and truly a bizarre touch to a most extraordinary outfit. It was like she was on her way to a dance practice or something. It wasn't quite Goth, thankfully, as I have plenty of those in the long past, but none recently.

It was interesting that this particular Fat Girl had her costume laces across her ample cleavage, and was placed for me to see it when seated on the bus. This horizontal banding, or striated light patterns (or objects) is a familiar theme in the perp's lighting and staging games. Last nigh on the the TV they had striated boxes as part of the lead-in to the highlights repeat of the Will and Kate royal wedding on CBC news channel. I suppose it is a way for the perps to break down the visual scene into smaller chunks, and analyse how I interpret the whole, and whatever chunks contain the more interesting content, i.e. cleavage.

Week; Aug. 02-08, 2011

2011-08-08T20:17:00.000-07:00

08-02-2011
Picking raspberries at the farm, then pick weeds in the carrots, but everyone but me and the dippy black haired Caucasian (I think) girl got called to clean potatoes. But after 20 min., we too got called in to help cleaning potatoes, like this was a set up of incrementat introductions. And lo, if the conveyor belt didn't go squeakiy, which then served as the excuse for one Mexican and one turban wearing Punjabi to putz around me. And do I know that squeaky conveyor sound, having sorted daffodil bulbs in the prior three years? Also a flattened cardboard box was placed near me for no reason after potato washing was done.

08-03-2011
Farm work again; raspberry picking, strawberryt picking, potatoe washing (production line), weeding, wash more potatoes. Possiblly all to keep me wearing my pants over my shorts, as the weather didn't cooperate for me to wear shorts while raspberry picking. This seems to be a big deal of late, along with the "need" to get a tan on my legs. I got fooled into thinking it would be tanning weather this morning so I put my shorts under my workpants. But the clouds closed in and so no tanning possibilities. So it would seem, along with the perps' underwear fetish/control, that they wanted to work me through many different jobs today, with shorts under my pants which were worn all day long.

08-04-2011
Picking strawberries, then pick raspberries and then weed strawbs while rest of crew, save the raven haired girl and an add-in girl from the farm market store work nearby. They seemed to be paired for some reason, and the add-in girl isn't a farm worker as she works in the store only. Then I was working on the potato washing conveyor line, with the exact same hassles as past conveyor work at another farm jobsite. The person next to me was frequently obstructing my access to getting the items off the conveyor. The perps like to set up these fucking games where someone grabs something I was set to grap, and the offending co-worker makes no bones about not being unapologetic. In another stunt, when I was walking the farm road between the potato line and the raspberry patch, the supervisor drives by in her BMW within 12" of me for no fucking reason, as there was at least 4' of road width availible to her with no obstructions or potholes. And it seemed to be a set up, as an oncoming vehicle was stopped and waiting some 80' away, with headlights on. And we do know how the perps like to put TI's in lighted conditions, except this time it was in broad daylight and with the asshole supervisor pulling this stunt, surprising me from behind by driving so absurdly close. Fucking rude.

My missing watch was found by the farmer's son, though he didn't explain how he did so.

I got to wear my shorts while picking raspberries today, but the tan line came out all wrong by dint of of some perp fuckery, 6" further down my leg than the bottom of my shorts.

Evening beam-on-me games from the E. apartment towers in turn. The Pink Tower was beaming me when in my apartment for the prior 40 min. prior to going to the LD store. And when entering and exiting the store, why, the Pink Tower faux reflections were beaming on me there.

Another new jerkaround at financial transaction time was a reflectance off the card reader panel that was strobing. Don't I get enough stroboscopic fuckery (dappled light through trees) in any given day? Seemingly not. The dudes in their baggy low cut shorts were out and about, and I suppose this is seasonal wear, not unlike six months ago when this "dress code" was prevalent among the male gangstalkers.

08-05-2011
Picking strawberries after an hour of potato washing work on the conveyor line. And for raspberry picking I was given S. side row picking, excellent for leg tanning while wearing shorts. And a decent tan too, to the top of my shorts this time.

On the city bus ride freakshow ride home; a bald (skinheaded), baggy shorts wearing male in commercial painter chic, having paint splats on his shorts, shirt and hands (what commercial painter takes the city bus for crissakes?, and what commerical painter wears shorts on the job for crissakes?). Said dude plants himself in front of me for most of the bus ride.

A tanning session tonight, and lo, if the stalkers aren't in place once I exit.

08-06-2011
A little more evening time as I left work at 1600h, per sort-of prompting from the prevaricating supervisor. She said that everyone was going to stop at 1530h, and I said I would too. And at 1600h we were still picking weeds in the carrots, which had begun at 1515h after picking raspberries since about 0900h. After finishing a section of weeds and meeting up where someone had weeded ahead of me, I decided that 1600h was plenty enough. As expected, whenever I finish something a confluence of noise and co-worker/gangstalking action erupts. The strangest was a flock of Canada geese overhead, flying only 20' above the field and them divebombing each other and squawking in a sorting out their V-formation territorial/status positions. Then one of the Mexicans who took off 15 min. earlier for no seeming reason returned as I was packing up, essentially in lead-ahead gangstalking mode.

Then at the warehouse, some 4 minute walk away where I clocked out, two Mexican workers were also posted there. In addition was a red welder's service truck, "putting on the red", and I assume, serving as a color reference inside and out as it was parked broadside to the open garage door to the warehouse. The two Mexicans coursed around me as I changed up my boots for my street shoes and put on my coat. Withouth fail, someone is hanging around or over me whenever I change my footwear there, and all the more so since I now leave my heavy hiking boots there and wear my street shoes commuting. All last year, and for the past two months, I wore my hiking boots to work and back, only exchanging them for gumboots if it was wet out.

08-08-2011
1830h
I was slinging compost for most of the day at the First Feral Family house, putting it through a sieve and piling the sieved material, the screenings and coarse debris separately. And another pile for the plastic trash that somehow gets in and I am compelled to remove. I got screwed into a 10.5 hour sleep at the FFF house and was witness to my perp-abetting mother digging in the compost pile ahead of me when I was at breakfast. She explained that it was to put some on top of the active food compost pile, in an adjacent box, but as she did such a poor job of it I assumed it was more of a "pre-stalk", going through the exercise ahead of me. Funny, I hadn't told her I was going to do the compost until she came back in the house.

I got my regular fly-overs from aircraft, and the neighbor noise of chainsaws and leaf blowers. The stream of hotrod muffler noise was duly started up while I was outside. I didn't finish the job of screening the large composte heap today. This was due to a smaller sieve that "showed up" three years ago when in the prior year there was a larger one and I was making good progress with it. I asked my mother who took the larger sieve and supplied a smaller one and she blew me off. And of course, as the perps have such an insane interest in compost, and sieving it through metal screens, it makes more sense that they fucked with the sieve to slow down the job. Which is what they routinely do for all activities; slow or disrupt work all the time, especially infrequent ones. It makes one wonder about the larger context and to the level of engineering jobs and projects, and problems they have over work completion.

A city bus freakshow ride into downtown, and lo, if the commercial painter act wasn't doubled up this time. The dude with paint splats on his clothes and then on his hairy legs, one of those fuckwit dudes that "needs" to wear shorts no matter how ridiculous it is. This dude went through four relocations on the bus, one being a "buddy" chat with the driver, then back to his original seat, and then on sentry duty for three stops before he got out. Just before he made his trip back to his seat, why, another painter dude got up from his seat and went to the rear door before his exit from the bus. Like WTF; this is totally absurd to have these paint splattered tradesmen (har, har) on a city bus, and then to have two on one trip, and then to have two such events (per above) in one week. Who writes these absurdities?

1930h
I got screwed out of my Monday tanning session by two minutes; the place was locked up. And that was caused by getting screwed out of attending to my laundry soon enough, as the bedsheets were in the dryer, and I pulled them out beforehand to get the bed made up. No regular habit/appointment goes unfucked for long.

I stopped in the LD store on the way back and was treated to my freakshow at at the chocolate, with at least one Asian man on his second gangstalking in recent months in idential circumstances. I got a three negro loose cluster gangstalking outside and inside my apartment lobby. One sauntering female negro in purple for crissakes some 30' ahead and coming toward me, then suddenly a negro dude in white and red steps into view, apparently exiting from the lobby, and on the inside, the regular lollygagging negro holding court on the couch was at it again, talking to an Asian male. I got screwed out of the elevator for the third time in a week, reading "M" when I went to press the button, why it took off for an upper floor request. Taking the stairs for six flights isn't too much of a bane as I do it quite often now to avoid the gangstalk clusterfucks in the lobby that seemed to be stacked with freaks from the Unfavored classes.

I got a telephone message from a person with a very robotic and uninterested monotone voice, indicating that they are interested in having me in for an interview, making reference to my past work history with an aircraft maintence firm. So I look up this outfit, and they are a financial services outfit. Translated, it spells bullshit call, though I will return the call to find out if I am dead wrong, a state the perps like to put me into very often.

Enough of the routine and onto posting this blog for the week.

Week: July 26 Aug 01

2011-08-01T21:40:00.000-07:00

07-26-2011
Picking raspberries until 1330h, then weeding the strawberries in the next field. I used my Felco #8 pruners, and lo, if the perps didn't fuck them by popping the spring off in tall grass never to be found again. Yet another sabotage event to recover from, finding the time to get these small parts from specialty retailers. All to play the perp's fucking games of changing up the energetic signature of the near-new tool that I now carry in my backpack each day.

A wacko inbound bus ride after work; all the freaks were there. A 350lb Fat Boy, a carmine colored turban, three negroes, bus aisle blocker who blocked me from getting a seat for some strange reason (so she could park her exposed and unadorned (thankfully, no tattoos) back to me it would seem). It was standing room only, and that means over 35 passengers, which is absurd at 1730h going into downtown on a Tuesday evening.

The apartment manager was hanging around my front door in the hallway when I was returning with clean damp laundry in hand to hang dry. He said hello, and I returned the greeting as I wasn't sure who he was at first. Then two hours later I see that someone signed for my UPS delivery, and not knowing if it was the apartment manager or not, I phone him to ask and he says he has it in the office. Like WTF; why didn't he say anything earlier when loitering in the hallway and showing off his tattoos in the dim light? So it would seem he was directed to "pre-stalk", that is, gangstalk a location he is going to return to in earnest for a legit mission, delivering the fucking parcel. Even at that, he could of said something then. Why are so many people I engage with so fucked in the head?

2115h Then the Fuckwit manager delays his delivery of my parcel past my 2100h bedtime. The insane and orchestrated hassle over pacel deliveries never ends.

More Fat Girls on the bus, two at the bus stop, and lo, I get exposed to cleavage again. Maybe it is just a summertime thing, but I definitely get more than my usual fill.

And what is it about motorcycles that the perps need to plant them for me to see or hear at 0630h when on the bus? And continued noise in the distance all day long, at least 1/ two minutes, sometimes one after the other for five minutes? And plenty of aircraft flyovers today. A Sea King came directly over after lunch, low and slow and some kind of black emanations coming from it.

Tuesday seems to be a big gangstalking day as I start a new razor insert in the morning, shaving face and front with it. Also, the bedsheets have been laundered the night before, and it is the first sleep on them. Also, one day after a sun tan salon appointment, which seems to cause to instigate greater gangstalker coverage, especially immediately following.

07-27-2011
I picked raspberries until 1400h, then weeded until 1630h - similar as yesterday. and same freakshow on the bus, heavy on tattoos, though I got a seat to start with, unlike yesterday's charade.

The parcel delivery nonsense is finally over; I phoned the aparment manager at noon to give him permission to enter my apartment to leave the parcel there. The other parcel was in my mailbox to my surprise. So.... two parcels via different shippers arrive today, all from one order. Exciting games for the perps no doubt seeing how often they pull similar hassles over parcel deliveries.

07-28-2011
I weeded pumpkins underthe powerline, until 0930h, then pick raspberries to 1330h, then back to weeding pumpkins. Wore shorts for the first no-cloud day, and got tanned. Combinations of shirts, footwear and work activity continue; in hiking boots all day today, even if in shorts. Other variations have been street shoes when picking raspberries which I had formerly studiously avoided, then wearing shorts under the black long pants as no sun came out despite early encouraging forecasts. Variations on the shirts have been the tan-through shirt, the SPF sun block shirt and blue and grey T-shirts.

The city bus freakshow continues; skinheads, tatoos. Ditto at the local supermarket; the female cashier was the worst one of all with tattoos on her arms and onto the back of her hands.

The morning-time city bus negro (the male, though a tail-me-off-the bus female gets on too at the same stop) is stepping up his seat swapping games again. That is, when I am waiting at the rear doors for my stop as the bus approaches it, he changes seats to sit in my seat, still warm. This the second time in a week this Fuckwit Negro has done this, and the third in the past month. He wasn't doing it last year for crissakes, no seat moving whatsoever.

Pounding bass music noise when I got back from work, and from the local supermarket visitation. The pounding also continued into the evening andhas been playing 80% of the time for the last hour.

07-29-2011
Another male skinhead dude on bus, this time the Fuckwit sat next to me. It was so disgusting it was that I looked away the entire bus trip. Thankfully he got off one stop earlier. Then later in the evening at the LD store, an incomparable all-time fugly combination after my tanning session; a skinhead at the counter I needed to go to and tattoos over his head and down his neck. A fucking disgusting sight, and one that was used in the MKULTRA projects to reference head regions over multiple study/survey sessions.

No shorts wearing while doing farmwork today, as seeming "recovery day" for the perps, needing a day of no leg exposure to the sun after a tanning session the evening before. Endless games and combinations continue in the perp's vitamin D, skin exposure, skin color and other downstream physiological processes and effects, not the least of which is titanium dioxide nanoparticles in the sunblock.

07-30-2011
Picking raspberries in shorts, and finally getting my legs tanned finally from the sun. A bit of an irony, as some 15 tanning session in the salon did not have me get my legs tanned. Though to be fair, it did prepare my skin for an even and painless full-sun tan, as otherwise my skin would of seriously burned as I somehow "forgot" to put sunblock on.

07-31-2011
Picking raspberries and then weeding was suddenly announced when only five minutes into picking a new row. This is almost the rule now; afternoons are suddenly prempted to pick weeds after picking fruit, and timed to when I have just begun a new row, sometimes with the afternoon break timed immediately beforehand. This seat-of-the-pants task assignment isn't anything new to this farm, though it certainly aids the perp's games of having me start and stop activities.

I am still the social leper at lunchtime especially; Mr and Mrs Punjabi sit some 150' apart with me somewhere in the middle, a most curious arrangement and one they never did before. The eight Mexicans, who claimed they wanted to learn English from me, also sit apart, usually 40' or so. The only other local is a Caucasian girl with deep black hair, but she isn't too talkative and seems totally scared for no reason that I can discern. In fact, I thought she was fired last week for not picking well, but for some reason she came back and all was forgiven/forgotten. I thought the "firing" was bogus in the first place; I was told to re-pick her row and I picked 16 more pint boxes. I never heard the supervisor say anything to her, and she was on the other side of the row. More strange behaviors and events, nothing new in this constant stream of FUD.

And too, the coworkers "drift-away" games again; This stop-picking and start-weeding sequence was taken one further when everyone started to depart in ones and twos, apparently for carrot digging, and within 30 min. of the said-to-be work ending time of 1630h. I was the only one left weeding, and I went to 1700h, and lo, no one else had clocked out, presumably they were on carrot digging still. Like I mention, the work duration, work end time, work task/crop can change in an instant. But it was interesting that they all "filtered out", something my mother and in-town brother have been doing for the last two years, having arrangements to take them elsewhere while I am at their place usually doing garden maintenance work such as weeding, pruning, soil sifting and all those horticultural activities the perps so like me to do.

08-01-2011
A statutory holiday called British Columbia Day, for a long weekend in the summer for the regular working folks. Being a sometime farm hand, it doesn't matter squat as the weeds and fruits are growing all the same and must be dealt with. But it is my regular Monday off, having stayed at the First Feral Family house last night. And I was duty bound to put up more steel mesh fencing to prevent the deer from invading the backyard, as they had done so yet again for the two prior days. This after two weeks of no deer invasions, and lo, if they don't strike when my perp-abetting mother somehow forgets to put the row cover over the crop plants (tomatoes, beans, peas) she was protecting each day.

And too, I got to act on a perp suggestion of boring the two fence post holes with a pressure washer, borrowed from the in-town perp abetting brother. And wonders never cease, it actually worked, as I ddin't need large holes for the steel posts, some 2" wide at most, save the spade portion near the bottom. And lo, if one of the fence post holes, some 4" in diameter roughly, didn't encounter one of my father's "rock resevoirs", these pits he created when preparing the landscaping to bury the rocks he raked up. Or, at least in part, as I did much of the lawn raking back then, 1967-68.

More wacko tattoos on the bus again. A skateboard dude with tattoos down his leg that was exposed by his baggy shorts. The skateboard was held behind his leg as some kind of reference/energetic source (carborundum of the non-slip surface), and he often kicked his leg into the aisle to get more "activity" from his tattooed leg. And the baggy shorts epidemic continues in this dumbhit town, though it is summer. But it seems the perps need to show me lots of hairy male legs of late, as well as baggy shorts. And this is combined with the sudden "need" for me to shave my legs and in doing so, "new-found" admiration for them. And too, there are the odd female legs introduced into the city bus show for me to admire, gleaming and shaved of course.

Enough, it is past my bedtime of 2100h, and to get this posting published for another week.

Week; July 17 -26

2011-07-25T22:04:00.000-07:00

07-17-2011
Picking strawberries again, very mushy with the wet weather and the weeds in such abundance. Picker-
Babe manages to cough each time I change my attention while deep in (planted) thought to something else, most notably after a breaktime when I consumed food. Now nearly perfect record of thoughtstalking when she is there, which isn't that often. It does make me wonder what she is about, touching on so many long running perp themes and claiming to have been raised in Nova Scotia and yet she doesn't have a trace of an accent.

I got to wear the new Felco #8's (secateurs aka hand pruners) in their holster, but not use them as I got called off the job before I had started it. I ended up wearing them under my rainpants for all day strawberry picking.

07-18-2011
I finally got to use the Felco #8's, not at work, but on the sage at FFF house with my perp abetting mother next to me and directing how much I should cut it down for season, post-flowering, I took some sage sprigs home too.

07-19-2011
Raspberry picking finally, with a "futility pick" for strawbs for the last 1.5 hours. More like a "red color check", one fruit to the next in the same day. They did this last year too. I got some kind of instant-on allergic reaction in one eye that drove me off earlier than planned, with the Punjabis staying behind.

The first time for street shoes worn to work, keeping the hiking boots at the farm to change into. This seemed to be the trigger for at least three wacko gangstalkers loitering around, and this pattern followed each morning for the next three afterward. As mentioned, one's footwear is under intense research interest, and having me keep two pairs of footwear at the farm is a big deal. Previously, I only kept the gumboots there and travelled in my hiking boots.

A major city bus wacko show on the way back; red colored clothing, which was moved out to have the four or five yellow clothed gangstalkers moved in to replace them. Some 35+ passengers on the #6 bus inbound to downtown at 1730h (reverse commute) is fucking absurd. And so many shiftless dudes all the time, as if they don't have real day jobs, and to be found on the "loser cruiser" in such abundance flies in the face of what they purport to be.

07-20-2011
A farm work day starting in the everbeariang strawberry plantation, the one with the plastic row cover into which the strawberries are planted. I got to use the red-handled Felco #8 secateurs, the long vaunted acquisition and present tool the perps are obsessed about for cutting foliage. Then onto pulling weeds in the carrots, eating at least 10 or so that were "inadvertently" pulled out too. I wasn't alone in that respect. Then picking raspberries all afternoon.

The inbound (after the day's work) city bus sat at the stop for over 8 min. for no seeming reason. This seemed to set the stage for progressive red colored clothing acts to fill in around me. Then a vagrant act on the bus and his collection of plastic bottles in the steel mesh wheeled hamper that is the trademark ambulatory perp haulage device. Then the dudes arrived to plant themselves around me, two in incessant chat mode. A triple negro show when I got off the bus, and a few minutes, another in the hallway. Some 60 minutes later when in the LD store, another negro was posted in the chocolate section with a red hat for crissakes.

Two Asian girls were all about me when doing the 100g Milka chocolate bar pickup, and at least four others posted nearby, for the umpteenth intensified gangstalking event while picking up chocolate.

07-21-2011
The first farm work was pulling weeds from the carrot rows, then after an hour, picking raspberries for the rest of the day. The Mexicans didn't seem too moved by the 3.5Gb of MP3 music I gave them on the MicroSD card; some 1,000 songs, of 90 albums. Just the usual unusual; no demonstrable thanks or seeming usuage of the favor/effort. No good deed goes unappreciated in TI World. Which, to make a long story short, after six years of organizational dysfunction I succeded in building and validating a 500 entity/table database application with a small team that reported to me. And what happens, the users and their managers just sit around and don't use it. One of my colleagues said I "took away all the excuses" as to why they wouldn't/couldn't use the database application, and yet they sat on their hands for at least four years afterward. Now I understand it is operational and one of my team members leads the one man effort to keep it so.

At the farm one of the two E. Indian/Punjabi males wears a turban, and really hasn't learned much Englishf for the over 20 years he has lived in Canada. I call him the FUD Master, as most converstations seem to be circular, and without a clear outcome. He has taken a turn to be more rude of late and was waving his hands in my face at one point, making out that he was talking to someone else and "forgot". If that wasn't enough, the fucker then took a oint-box carrier from beside me that I had just made up with the 8 pint boxes. This is an exact repeat of what a Mexican did to me yesterday; talking the filled out carrier from beside me when I was momentarily distracted. One cannot find such coordinated rudeness outside of TI World.

And extra noise on the farm all day long; an adjacent excavation company shop and yard, talking hikers and bikers, distant loud mufflered vehicles, overhead aircraft (at least 12 single engine fixed wing private aircraft) and a white helicopter making two passes, roughly E to W, some 40 min apart- a oldie, likely a Bell 47-GB2.

07-22-2011
More weed pulling, first in the carrots, this time with a separate crew of four or so on harvesting nearby; digging, bunching and washing in the field. Interesting that it has taken the perps some nine years to arrange proximate crop weeding and its harvesting at the same time. I cannot count the number of times I have done one or the other in the four years of farm work they have put me through, and so this represents an all time first for the assholes to arrange this one.

Then raspberry picking began before the first break (1000h), and I note that I have attained a new higher
"leper status" in terms of no one sitting next to me, save the "starter" shill. This act has one of the Mexicans sitting or lying on the ground curled up for crissakes, for two to five minutes of the break before they take themselves off to the rest of their colleagues some 20' away. The Punjabis don't even sit together on breaks, but now disperse themselves 30' away on each side, and sometimes one 12' in front. Most curious. But they do go into extensive and loud converstation while I am picking raspberries nearby, often cranking it up when I change rows and begin one anew. This is also the occasion when extra vehicular activity erupts, with plenty of drive-bys and berry pick-ups. Also, the overhead aircraft activity picks up when changing picking rows.

07-23-2011
A predictably sunny day, so I decided I might pick raspberriw while wearing shorts. I had them under my black pants as I would need the latter for weed pulling, but we started on raspberries. I wore my tan-through shirt on top, a rare clothing combination, for getting direct sun exposure on my still-white legs (and still keeping up the newly acquired leg shaving habit) and my torso at the same time. The perps often start from the most difficult combinations (clothes in this case) and work me into simpler combinations later. This new clothing combination of shorts under pants and the shirt seemed to be the impetus to screw me out of getting the first Saturday bus, and lo, if the next one isn't 30 min. later. I make a phone call to the farmer to tell him of my later arrival, then a forced shit. Not until the perps made themselves apparent did I ever take a crap before 1000h, and suddenly all such past "habits" changed, including the time of all bodily eliminations. So it would seem the perps wanted me to sit around in this different (never before) clothig combination for 30 min. (shorts that hadn't been worn for over 8 years under pants). The totally screwed me into thinking it was a Saturday #6 bus time of 0722h when that was the Sunday time. The perps can now govern the "for sure" recollections.

It was picking raspsberries all day and wearing shorts. As one picks raspberries standing up mostly, it make for better tanningsituation than picking strawberries where one one is scrunched up and between the rows of foliage. I was a luchtime leper again, every one staying a minimum of 15' away, and the normally socializing Punjabis strangely dispersed and each one sitting alone.

A major confluence around me when I changed back into pants as the sun was behind a major front coming in as it seemed at the afternoon break time. And lo, some 10 min. later, the entire cloud front (3/4 of the sky) was entirely displaced N, and sun was free and clear to beam on me while picking raspberries and back in my long pants.

This seemed cause to have 30 min. of constant motorcycle noise in distance for the last picking hours of the day. And some 20 or more aircraft over the day.

And the inbound city bus/freakshow; heavy on the tattoos, with a major set arranged in front of me for me to look down to the lower floor section. And after getting off the bus, walking one block to this apartment, why as tattooed Fuckwit attempting to barge into the elevator before I got out And get this, he was attempting to barge into the elevator while looking down at his feet, and not looking forward to where he was going. Like who in the fuck ever enters an elevator when looking at one's feet; not only do you no know which direction it is going, but you don't know who is coming at you. All to show me his ridiculous tattoos on the heels of seeing a fugly set for the prior 20 minutes on the bus.

07-24-2011
A day of picking raspberries and a much appreciated relief from strawberries, which save the everbearing plantation, are likely over for the season. And it was predictably sunny so I wore my shorts and picked in them, applying sunscreen at 1300h as lunch finished up. My legs are still a ghastly white, though later I did note a mild redness to signify tanning at long last.

I see they also put on a local picker who has jet black hair, and she too came in shorts with ghastly white legs. I was told this girl had been let go as she left too many berries behind, but there she was again. The seeming showdown with the supervisor over her berry picking was said to have occured, but I was on the other side of the row of raspberry canes and I didn't hear a thing. It seemed faked to me.

They shut down the picking at 1530h, which screwed up my plans to have my mother pick me up at 1700h. And lo, if she wasn't availible on her landline or her cell phone. The Mexicans were also going back to their places in the new crew van, and they gave me a ride to my mother's place, the FFF house, which wasn't too far from the farm. I suppose the big deal was that it was my first trip in this new crew van, a min-van, that had powered rear sliding doors, a new feature I was exposed to. We had dropped three of the Mexicans off first, and another three were in the van, and somehow the perps eliminated my awareness, which they could do since 2006, and I didn't seen how the doors opened when we first lest the passengers out. Only the second time, when I was getting let out was I allowed to see that the doors were powered for opening and closing. And part of the deal might of been that the one Mexican who knows reasonable English was able to convey the instructions to the driver who doesn't know much, though he has his international driver's licence. This same driver took me to a different drop-off location three weeks ago, and I had to use extensive hand signals to direct him, though thankfully I was in the front passenger seat then. But it seems very important to the perps as to whom and how I convey my instructions, and by what means, and I suppose travelling with Mexicans in these varying states of communication seems to be part of the perp informational transference reasearch component.

07-25-2011
1610h
A Monday, and a return from the First Feral Family house stayover. I drove my mother about for lawn sprinklers, as she had a brass sprinkler head for a base that self destructed. So got to carry this around to the two stops we made, the latter a specialty irrigation supply house, a seeming favorite of late for the perps to arrange events/stunts there. I frequented this store in 1997 through 1999 when I had a small farm and the water and irrigation supply was in atrocious shape. So now I am visiting this store again with FFF members and of course the "hold up" stunts of keeping me there longer and having the Fuckwits fill in around me while waiting to be served, during being served. A junky yellow plastic base was what my perp-abetting mother wanted, and with a 20" riser pipe it works OK, save that it doesn't have an independent tightening ring to secure the hose to it. This means spinning this wrteched piece of yellow plastic around the end of the hose for it to mate. I though this bullshit was over some decades ago, but no, resoundingly bad industrial design never goes out of perp favor for all the problems and protractions it offers. I assembled it and ran it, and no doubt having water go through a yellow plastic channel and then through the dark grey riser pipe to the brass sprinkler head was too exciting for words (for them). I wonder how long this will last, and I will be back to the store for something better.

This is a no-yellow-medication-intake-Monday don't forget, and in addition to the above nonsense over the yellow plastic sprinkler base, there were more than the usual yellow gangstalking vehicles in abundance. Also, having a banana at breakfast, and half a one at lunch might have also fuelled the yelllow color nonsense that is their stock in trade.

And lo, if not a near normal city bus ridership on the way back; five other passengers on the #22 route instead of the 20+ on the #27/28 route that also goes downtown. I still got a stare from this fat woman for no reason, and it does seem that Fat Girls are getting much more prominence on the gangstalker circuit of late, and especially today. The "gut strut" of the overstuffed dudes has been a given for years, and is now made seasonally all the more absurd of late as they have taken en masse to wearing these dumbshit baggy shorts that go below their knees. I haven't figured out what this particular gangstalking dress code is all about, but just as I was about to pay for my items this morning, why, a gut-strutting male passed by the store hallway for me to see. My mother had also given me two $5 bills, blue in color here, prior to the transaction as she was reimbursing me for one of the three items I purchased at this specialty tool and gardening store.

I did a similar beat with my out-of-town brother and his family two weeks ago, going to the specialty tool store, having lunch, and then going to the same irrigation supply store for parts to repair my mother's soaker hose that gets a break in it each year of the last two (My brother repaired the soaker hose almost exactly with the same parts as I did, save the difference of using 1" hose clamps instead of 3/4" as they were out of stock). So it seems the perps are still testing water and its properties as it passes through hose and repair segments and is taken up by either landscape or food crop plants. In the latter case, the perps have been testing me on food crops fed from aluminum pipe, plastic PVC pipe and various other plastic types that are used in water containment and delivery. And too, the ownership of the hobby farm, also cost me some $3,000 in digging a trench and putting in new 2" PVC pipe as the old steel pipe was rusted out. The old water supply pipe had some blue plastic segments in it as well, and the local irrigation supply expert had never seen this type before. This blue plastic pipe had destabilized and appeared to be deforming and then breaking. That cut the 600,000 gallon water usage to a tenth of that consumption for a quarterly billing. In other words, the perps are still at work over what water supply I use for what purpose and what color and material the delivery pipes are. Presumably, this water supply is structured with the energetics of the delivery pipe and the soil in which it resides, and they are still at testing me for all the downstream energetic effects it has on me and my laundry.

1840h
More sirens the second round in 10 minutes, and not the last given the usual extra fuckery they lay on each Monday I return from the FFF stayover. And plenty of noisy motorcycle noise today, and even arranging one in traffic to ride beside me with the driver holding out his closest (R) foot outboard of the motorcycle. Maybe it was his new white sneakers and all the glues and fabrics with remaining shoe-box residue as well. And what idiot rides a Harley Davidson in new white sneakers? One can get dumped anytime, and leather riding boots are a near necessity. But in this arranged world I am kept in, they needed to have noisy motorcycle noise to accompany this ridiculous exposition of new sneakers at speed. Which wasn't too different from another wierd event two weeks ago; a motorcyclist (seeming) walking with his motorcycle clothes, and holding them up at chest level. Fucking ridiculous, but yet more examples of how the perps seem to need to leverage motorcycles (noise, and fewer parts and size) to enable further research on four (or more) wheeled vehicles.

1950h
Back from a tanning salon visitation; a sure magnet for more gangstalking action, which I did surely experience in the local supermarket on the way back. The freaks were out, and making multiple passes at each end of the store. The supermarket has been out of guacamole and tapenade for the last week, either of which I regularly use in the one dish they routinely have me make, quesadilla with chopped chicken. So an alternative tapenade, from Italy, and colored the dreaded brown color they so like to selectively expose me to. Brown colored clothing hasn't been allowed since early 2004 when it kept getting more frayed with each laundering until it was unrepairable.

But they finally allowed me to have salad tonight, the first time in a week, and even had me add some sage leaves from my mother's garden that I cut from there last week (Monday, with the new Felco #8 secateurs). As mentioned many times, the cutting of food and plants is of considerable perp interest, which includes the particular knife or shears. The sage sprig stems were kept in a glass of water, recharged three times over the week, and were added to the quesadilla. The first time the taste was sensational, and after that it was mildly pleasant. This denaturing of taste is something I have attributed to the perps in the past as they have put me through this scenario so many times. Basically, all my taste sensations have been blandified for whatever aims the assholes have in eliminating this sensation from my existence.

More sirens and an amubulance doing its emergency flashing light show when I was walking on my way to the tanning salon. And after some 15 sessions, I still do not have tanned legs out the deal. If the perps can screw with so many elemental physical properties by unconventional means, I am sure they are meddling here too. After all, their brown color and brown colored skin obsession has been made clear from the very first months of this insane abuse, so I am not too surprised they want to slow down my skin turning brown.

2200h
Way late for a farmworked to get up at 0400h, so I will call this one done.