09-18-2017
As a full time tattoo loather, I got my own set of three freckle-like tattoos today, along with a scan to identify where my to-be-irradiated (in med-speak, treated) prostate is. Irony of ironies, but as they are quite small, I can live with them. It was either that or else get some irretrievable gold pellets shot into said gland. And all the while a red laser beam marked the center of the scanning bed, and me when on it. And of course, the perps love firing lasers at the victim (me) as well. So here we are, a troika of perp intrusions; tattoos (loathed as artwork on others), a laser beam, and a CT (X-ray) scan. This is all to get my alignment for the focused beam treatments, 28 of them I am told, Mon-Fri, whenever they start.
The two technicians, both women, marked and scanned me, and then repeated the exercise, and once happy with their positioning, marked me permanently with ink. Funny how they pulled the frumpy one from the exercise, and kept the better looking one to finish the job. More of the swapping game I suppose, most notable at cashiers, though often male for female, or vice versa.
For that, an hour's drive to Kelowna, and the the usual extra road traffic that accompanies me. Though to be fair, I don't have a read on this region of the world to know how much is background traffic, and how much is extra gangstalking accompaniment. I had time to go to the bookstore, and had my stalkers ahead of me there, and coursing around. Ditto for the skunk-trip to the shoe repair shop; even stalkers standing around on the street for no seeming reason, still there over the 10 minutes when I returned after finding the shoe repair shop closed this Monday. The perps just love to be all over me when I am exiting my vehicle, especially after a highway drive. And too, pulling a skunk at the same time, that is, finding a business or office is closed or not accessible (aka, dashed expectations). And I find it absolutely galling that somehow, someone knew I was in my vehicle and wanted my parking spot on the street, when it is highly doubtful they would of seen me, as it was the pull-in stall type, where other vehicles obstruct the view from the street.
And they were all over me when I set off after my appointment at the hospital; a vehicle train to trap me where I was to make my first turn, culminating in what seemed like the real perp assholes in uniform; an unmarked brown Suburban with uniformed Fuckwits inside (but not regular police), making a L turn in front of me. I am being facetious, as I don't think the perps have a uniform, any more than a CIA criminal has one, but it does beg the question as to who these mofos were.
Yoga; I didn't see this coming, but then again I am not allowed to think too far in advance, nor anticipate the perps games that I could do so accurately until 2006, when they became capable of dithering my knowledge. Here we are, post return trip from Kelowna, post CT scan, so they poured on the yogis. About 15 of them, and plenty of new cute ones too, plus some semi-regular cute ones. One of the latter wears a two piece outfit, but today she had a new two piece outfit that was smaller than the first one. Presumably a more revealing outfit to get my renewed attention for the same girl. I cannot think of any reason why these surges of yogis show up, and then it boils down to a regular crew, 8 or so.
They had plenty of early yogis attending to arrange themselves in my usual spot and at the front, so I ended up in the SE back corner. Three cute ones in front, and at the last minute they put a larger assed woman in between, even if there was other and more roomy areas she could of placed herself. For some reason of late, the perps like me to do comparisons on asses; this time arranging a larger one in front of three cute ones. Go figure.
09-19-2017
Another significant futility exercise just revealed itself. For 1.5 years I have been making my case for an generalized dopamine deficiency, which includes a SPECT scan that determined ADD (=developmental dopamine deficiency), and a recent urine test that determined dopamine deficiency. I have compiled a list of symptoms that apply to those with a dopamine deficiency. I wrote all this up and gave it to the shrink one week in advance. So today's visit was a mighty disappointment from the get-go when he appeared to not have read any of what I wrote. He went over this material while I was there, and didn't even look at the scans for crissakes, just the written determination. Then it was a long detailed listing of all what happened to me in Seattle when the perps went berserk/overt on me, and the downstream bullshit of being fucked with by shrinks who then illegally kept me in hospital and kept me on dopamine blocking agents. I dumped those mind-debilitating medications the day I got out and got better. How is that for Soviet-style treatment in a supposedly free country? Free we ain't, in the US or Canada.
And because this guy is a careful facts collector, I had to go through all the squalid history of this abuse onset, the head pain brutality, being run all over the place, gangstalking up the asshole etc. while he took notes. Naturally, there wasn't enough time for the whole story, and so this shrink summed up the deal about dopamine deficiency/ADD by saying, "I don't see it there". Well the SPECT scan shows it, and ADD doesn't go away, so what was there to "see"? Never mind that I did 90% of the talking and he asked no ADD diagnostic questions. Thanks a lot perps, another go-nowhere shrink, aka, dopamine treatment obstruction.
As to his determination on the harassment, he says, "why you?". How am I supposed to know, save that the perps have an inordinate interest in dopamine. Anyhow, there were plenty of "stop there" during my revelations, which tells me he didn't want to know a whole lot about specific details. So here we go again; a big nothing over dopamine treatment, exactly what I predicted months ago, and I waited six months for this. Sure, another appointment is scheduled in December, but today's opening gambit tells me the whole deal is over. Am I fucking pissed or what?
Dopamine is a hormone of significant and wide influence, and doctors and endocrinologists just don't/won't get it. (Here are some links; dopamine1 (easy read, 4 pp), dopamine2 (longer read, 11pp), dopamine3 (technical read, 33pp). Why have I been beating my head at this wall, or more like, led to this place, for over 20 years, and to no avail? When I first identified I had ADD from clinical books, and lectures from doctors, four shrinks in succession blew me off. Finally, I got the SPECT scan in 2001 which came back exactly with what I told them, and I took the appropriate medications (new doctor) and felt much, much better. That is, until 04-2002 when the perps went berserk/overt and outed themselves with their abusive and psychopathic harassment, which still continues to this day, though not as intense as then. If it hadn't been for the recent prostate cancer and urinary issues (both mediated by dopamine), I never would of gone to any shrink. This entire episode has been another big, very big, nothing. One that has huge medical ramifications for the next 20 years, and has already manifested itself in part by way of prostate cancer. Thanks assholes.
Onto small nothings; I see my "fickle friend" (co-worker from last year, 2016) was texting, and says we can meet sometime in October in Kelowna (one hour drive away), as he travels there for his physiotherapy. I will be there on a daily basis then too. So WTF; we both live in Penticton, and now this lame-assed excuse to meet in another city comes up in a month's time? For the record, I helped him for six weekends to take him shopping as he was crippled from knee surgery, having split his knee cap in May. (And I have done nothing to piss him off). We always have lively conversations, and got along well as co-workers in 2016, and have similar dispositions and intellectual curiosities. Anyhow, more of the same, from the same quarter, disappointing as it is. As an aside, the above mentioned shrink found the term "fickle friend" hilarious. Unexpectedly humorous I am, or perhaps, he was letting on he has a sense of humor. Go figure.
Saw Amy Helm tonight; she and
her very capable band put on a good show. I didn't get the waitress
banging me into me 4x like last time, though I was in a different seat
against the far wall. Cindy Cashdollar
was on steel guitar, and was the consummate supporting musician. I
needed a reprieve from the disastrous shrink visit earlier,
and the show more than served the purpose.
09-20-2017
I had my 1-5 tooth extracted this morning, as it was broken, plus some X-rays on the other side where another (similar) problem seems to be brewing. And were there enough masers floating around the whole time, this time the small black dot variety that likes to arrive and stay on top (or between) of a feature, say corner of the lamp, edge of the pillar for the lamp etc. And plenty of fleeting plasma beams, projecting from the linear features of the room mostly, e.g. window frame, vertical wall edge etc. Nothing new to me when I go to any medical facility and sit down on the chair. And what is with the dentist? She doesn't set up the next appointment/referral and I had to ask the dental assistant all the particulars and get it set up. Having a go-between for information transfer seems to be a big deal for the perps for whatever reason, as is any facet related to acquiring knowledge, retaining knowledge, deploying knowledge etc. A significant component of the objectives of what they seem to be after for whatever reason.
09-21-2017
A 11 hour sleep for whatever reason, with fitful awake time as well. My daughter has now, after 15 months, acknowledged my prostate cancer and is encouraging me to look after myself and says that these treatments have a high rate of success. I hope so too. But the question remains as to why she started this dialog when I told her on the first day of my biopsy result, that I had prostate cancer? And coincidentally, it was her birthday, and we were in communication because I was wishing her well, via phone call. Cynically, I would call this a "two-fer"; in this case a communication event that served two purposes, for birthday greetings and my significant health news. For that, it takes the perps to manage events IMHO, as they seem to manage me down to the last microsecond.
I finally figured out why the perps want to jump on my ass whenever I complete something; one gets a small dopamine surge just then, satiating the mid-brain reward center. Often, the perps will delay completion as things "happen" to go wrong, or in the case of working for employers, they will move me to another task so someone else gets to complete what I was working on. And lest you think it is just me in all this, the root cause of addictions is about creating a dopamine surge. In some cases you don't have enough, or in other cases the dopamine is broken down too fast. There may be other variations too. Soo... what is going on out there that a massive amount of the human race has addictions, and are they too being covertly monitored or surveilled for dopaminergic dysfunction? And why is the clinical community, save a few players who do it right with an assist from brain imaging technologies, got their heads in the sand? (Putting it politely).
09-22-2017
Fall officially begins today, which means the fall equinox. Though, with the 15-20C daily temperatures of late, it seems fall began two weeks ago. With no vineyard work on, the cancer treatments soon, I am being kept in employment limbo. Even the picking at the two vineyards seems to getting done by imported crews from the wineries, rather than the minions who got it into shape all growing season, from pruning to present.
09-23-2017
Saturday, and a dick all day it was, save going to the farmer's market in the morning to get fresh salad vegetable.
09-24-2017
Sunday, and I got out for a hike, along the trail that was used for an obstacle course competition yesterday. So hundreds of trail runners were on this trail yesterday. No big deal, and who knows how all this fits in the perp harassment scheme.
Dropped in at my former employer of 2012-2015 on the way back. I haven't seen any particular major capital improvements at his vineyard and small winery that might have come his way as a possible reward, a rare exception in the trail of largesse that seems to follow me, even before the harassment began 04-2002. All was well, sort of; his 62 y.o younger wife want to move to an assisted living arrangement, far removed from running a 5 acre vineyard and a small winery. She is in reasonable health, is able bodied and all, so I don't get it.
And I see by way of email that the person who is handling my malfunctioning stereo amplifier is claiming that there is nothing wrong with it. He says its the sources or cables or both. I just ran all three sources through my ancient headphone amplifier and all three work fine, keeping the same source-cabling. So it would seem that the perps are up to their usual shit again; fucking the gear, having it sent back, and then no problem is found. Then it gets returned to me, and I continue to have the same problems. Not that this person is any bit keen to really find out; not a phone call or anything. That is what one gets in this new world of online sales, though brick and mortar sales outlets don't guarantee diligent service either.
Or maybe it is a total jerkaround to force me back to headphone listening again, something they did from 2005 to 2016. For all the crap I have been through over stereo amplifiers, I don't get it. They screwed with my 15 y.o YBA amplifier such that it wasn't working properly, and after it was returned from the Chicago repair depot, it still wasn't working. I was livid. Then I had to sent it back again, and four months later, it was finally working again. I was so pissed with this fuckery over an older amp, I got a new one. (After checking out that it gets fixed back at the factory). And lo, it is this new one (now one year old) that isn't working. So just what is it about music sources, stereo amplifiers, speakers, headphones, cables, and cable colors and materials that so interests the perps that they continue a 15 year long sabotage assault on all of this? And when will they be done? I reckon they have another 15 years of combinations and permutations to run through in all of this.
They pulled this shit in 2002 in Seattle when I purchased a combination gauss-electrical meter only the electrical signal detector worked fine, so I sent it back. They pronounced it all working, and sent it back to me. By then, all kinds of things were going wrong, as well as the debilitating head pains, and I figured then, as now, it was a perp stunt. Of course I wanted the gaussmeter function the most as it seemed the nature of the harassment was magnetic. (For example, I could get relief from the pain beaming with headphones on, or in my vehicle). When when I moved the meter's switch to gauss, the reading blanked out. I ended up renting an industrial gaussmeter from California and got readings of 180-200 gauss in my apartment 13 stories up. Why the perps put me through all that I have no idea, but they like to have objects come from different geographic locations and have them returned. I returned the gaussmeter to the rental agency, but I will never, ever, forget the intense head pounding pain that came on while at the courier's counter while they did all the paper work, and I paid them. (A financial transaction note, another major perp Fuckover moment).
Enough for a week, and it seems just too dull to do daily blogs like I did back in the unemployed years they kept me in.
Showing posts with label ass planting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ass planting. Show all posts
Sunday, September 24, 2017
Sunday, May 14, 2017
Weeding and then Some
05-08-2017
Another day of hand weeding, that is, with a shovel and a work colleague on the other side of the trellis wires also digging away. My digging partner was the guy who I termed a "disengagee" for his focus on this phone, even during lunch time. Today, amazingly, he was absolutely chatty. I am totally astounded as this sudden behavior change. Though, there may have been an ulterior motive; all his chattiness effectively prevented me from wearing my headphones and listening to music all day. Such music listening and headphone wearing interruptions haven't gone unnoticed in past blog postings; running loud vehicles is another way to drive me from listening to headphones, as is overhead aircraft flights. As usual, the weeding was hard work, and there was no let up or other diversionary activities, even for an hour or so.
The other male ponytail on the crew was less charitable; at the end of the day, and had nothing to do with him, he is holding a pitchfork and offers to throw it to me. I said "right...." and then he seemed not to have heard me, and then said something to the effect that I might not of liked the suggestion. I had this asshole pegged as a loser before I started there, and I heard that from the former crew chief from last year. This insulting rude-shit was totally unprovoked as I have always kept my nose clean and not bothered anyone. And this prick comes up with this shit.
05-09-2017
The aggravating rude-ass, per above, was all over my ass while we were doing a rock pick this morning in a new just-plowed area that is due for planting soon. What is it about this asshole that he needed to keep dogging me from L to R, R to L, and keep getting into my vision? I would look away from where he was and pick rocks in that direction and this Fuckwit would show up again. Thank goodness rock picking was done in an hour. Then onto weed digging for the rest of the day.
I was too wiped out from yesterday to go to yoga last night. But I had left my boots out so they wouldn't stink out the joint, and the plan was that I would pick them up and put them inside when off to yoga. Of course that didn't happen, and the boots were outside all night. This is the second such outside "boot leaving" in two weeks; last time it was the other pair abetted by a alarm defeat of unknown cause. And what is so fucking important to the Psychopathic Fuckover Force that they need to have my boots sit on the lawn outside overnight? Again, no rain unloaded on them, a stunt they pulled last year.
05-10-2017
Another brutal day of digging weeds in the vineyard. One each side of the row, and my partner went "incommunicado" for the morning. In the afternoon, now armed with my player and my headphones, he starts chirping away. After a while I give up, ergo, no headphones or music. I cannot recount the number of past times headphone wearing (playing music) gets interrupted (e.g. loud vehicles, change in job task), and now we have another way. I am sure there will be more kinds, and many more headphone wearing disruption events to come.
And too, they added in aircraft stalking while the headphones were on; a low overhead pass (150') above terrain of a two engine fire retardant bomber, and in the elegant aerobatic-stalking of aircraft, it circled again, though 300m distant, same elevation.
05-11-2017
It started out to be a day of digging weeds until 30 minutes later, we were re-directed to help out on a small new plantation block. The posts needed to be erected and the trellis wires strung. I was on the post pounding team, saved from the dog-me gangstalker dude who would of been hanging about me like a bad smell all day. I don't know of anyone who is so in my face so often for seeming innocuous reasons. (Save the rude-ass offer from him, per above, about catching a pitch fork). The work day was called off an hour early when the thunderstorms came in, along with rain. There was a weather warning out for flash floods in some areas, so everyone is in an elevated sense of fear over the weather in this region.
05-12-2017
Friday, and some weeding today, and one particular bunch grass weed around a vine took two of us 10 minutes to extricate. It was the most root dense grass bunch I have seen in three weeks of this toil.
I was spared from all day weeding thankfully by the task assignment of putting up the irrigation lines, meaning, the black polyethylene pipes that are strung along the posts and drip out water at a constant rate. These would also be called "drip lines". There was also a solid sprinkler line put in every two rows as well. And have I mentioned how the perps love me to be messing with water delivery methods, and that would include irrigation pipes, drip lines, sprinklers and all other means. Of note, the ground was quite wet from the overnight rains, and so one could count this as another water delivery mechanism. And some rain showers today too, with plenty of temperature changes to go with it.
True to perp form, we ran out of drip line some 3 rows from the end on this .25 acre section, and so the boss man set off to get a roll of drip line. And of course it was a different make with a different dripper design, having the distinctive blue line running its length, the drip line that most vineyards use, including this one, save the rest of this section that we had installed (2 rolls worth). In the course of hanging up the drip line on the wires, the boss man had to cut off a small extra portion, and lo, if he didn't show me this split open section with its integral pressure compensating dripper, having borrowed my secateurs to cut it off (all he had to do) and cut it open as well. And so it continues; the perps' obsession over water delivery methods, and added to it, cutting said pipe (cutlery and cutting obsession) and showing it to me.
Also today, and I suppose water-related, there was a helicopter across the lake practicing using a "monsoon bucket", a collapsible slung bucket that is immersed in water and then is transported for fire suppression purposes. The bucket was duly discharged as well, presumably in concert with yet more variations on water delivery methods, even if a kilometer away.
05-13-2017
My big deal of the day, two in fact; getting the vehicle cleaned in preparation for waxing it, and then legs getting waxed. Funny how both relate to wax in their own way. But as wax is often a petroleum product, the perps are quite cranked about its particular properties, especially any "earth energies", aka, photonic field properties it may have and how those interact with this here TI victim.
The Pyschopaths had me get the vehicle cleaning done in the morning, starting with a foam brush, white foam coming out. They have in the past arranged red colored foam from the brush at the cleaning station, but have backed off on this in recent years, all at the same location. At 0900h on a Saturday I was surprised it was busy at the cleaning bays, and so I had to wait and watch the gut-strut; elders with large guts attempting to clean their vehicles. And lo, if they didn't' decrease the time for what the $2 coin gets in the slot now; instead of a $5 job it became a $7 job. And adroitly arranged for the first time cleaning this Ford Escape, with the planted notion that it is the vehicle that "caused" the extra time requirement. No, it is about the same size as the Camry, just higher, so what is the deal. Then to vacuum my vehicle, as it seems the mud is accreting from vineyard work in uncharacteristic amounts. I had my stalker buddy arrive on the other side of the outside vacuum cleaner station, vaccums are always a big perp prop for whatever reason. Then my highway drive for 20 min. to dry it off, replete with the vehicular gangstalking trains to accompany me.
Then to check out the regular Saturday Farmers Market, though I need not have bothered. I see they re-paved the street area to widen the sidewalks and thereby constrict the central egress space between each side of the stalls. Well done; it was already a cluster fuck, and now they made it worse. And of course the perps blanked me out of going at my usual time at 0830h, just when it opens, so to avoid said swarms. Now there is a better reason to go early, as egress has been constricted. We shall see how this one goes and whether they increase the stalkers and dawdlers at that time just to screw me all the more. Alternatively they can have me get up late to miss my intended shopping time.
And I suppose, with that particular segment of the street formerly being paved with asphalt, and now with a grey brick, I suppose this too is some kind of earth surface/color interaction game. (Same vendors, operatives and gangstalkers, now a year later). Surely, with astronauts orbiting the Earth, or moon even, the perps have figured out some kind of energy interaction differential for all their unwitting subjects? Never mind the speculation that subjects like Obama have been teleported to Mars, per web story of two years ago.
As mentioned a few times before, egress constriction is not a new perp tactic; the aisles of stores are often littered with extra displays to accomplish the same, and lo, if that isn't where a stalker isn't standing there too, typically with their ass projecting into the aisle in a mock posture feigning looking at low shelf items. The fact that they are arranged at these aisle constriction points so much more than normal is an outrage, and then to pretend not to notice they are constricting the aisle is ridiculous, and on top of that they also take an extended time to conduct their supposed introspection of the shelf items is even more absurd. On top of that, they don't select anything, making sure that the whole feigned "shopping" was an obvious gangstalking stunt. What it is about projecting someone's ass in my direction, or intended path, in a shopping aisle is totally beyond me, save to say that any kind of spinal stretches seems to exercise the spine in a way that presents a different energy profile. Hence being allowed to take yoga and the cluster fucking that goes on there.
Onto leg waxing in the afternoon; instead of the regular supervisor (its a training school) with whom I have extended chats over wine and wine tasting, I got a returning student from a few years ago. She was the temporary supervisor, and with her, a young trainee, just graduated from high school. As often, one on one side and one on the other, and each stayed in place when I flipped over. One was blonde and one was brunette, and no unnatural hair colors this time. I had some conversation with each of them and all was friendly, and was out of there in 40 minutes or less. Like anything, any regular contact or engagement with anyone, even if every 8 weeks apart, or even less, say with doctors, must be disrupted by the perps. They cannot tolerate me even going to the shoemaker in town before something gets messy/problematic and forces me to take my shoes out of town to get fixed. I just don't understand why they have to disrupt routines all the time.
In the afternoon, the sun came on, which presents problems with waxing my vehicle, so back inside and I listening to some Youtube videos on cancer (woohoo). The list of persecuted doctors who practice proven and researched alternate therapies that are substantially more efficacious than conventional treatment (if that) gets longer. Hoxsey, Kelly, Burzinsky as three, and I see that Dr. Nicholas Gonzalez died from a heart attack in 2015. He looked perfectly fine in the hour long 2014 video here. So what is it about cancer and the horrific immune system clobbering "treatments" (chemotherapy and irradiation) that the perps need to defend to the point of running alternative care doctors out of the country, if not, inundate them with investigations (14 different agencies in the case of Dr. Kelly)? I don't know, but in one video in this series a doctor mentions medical advances being allowed in other disciplines, but not in cancer. Is it purely an surreptitious immune system nonconsensual research project, also aided by HIV, or is it about selective takedown of individuals for various reasons? Or both?
05-14-2017
Sunday, and an 0600h text from the landlord to say they are going away for a week and could I look after the mail etc. No problem, but why so early.
The weather was cold and wet first thing so I hung back for a while, and read, and lo, if the assholes didn't have me puke up again, something they now do every three weeks or so. Once feeling better I was getting ready to set off to get automobile wax, and lo, if they didn't script a piss, and lo, on top of that, a crap. Unbelievable, this three way purge inside of 4 minutes all before setting off to get automobile wax, and my supply from last year had been strangely drawn down more than I expected. (Continuing this weekend's wax confluence/coincidence).
While at the auto shop, the dudes came to choke down egress by lining up at the cashier, which just "happened" to be where the automotive wax was. Anyhow, I found what I wanted, and when they had finally finished at the cashier, and when I proceeded to the desk, why, a pair off dudes brushed by from behind me, one of whom "happened" to be the tractor driver at the vineyard I work. Then another pair of dudes entered the store after they departed, who then preceded me out when I was about to depart. The cashier wasn't too pleasant and had to vacate the checkout twice to check the stock number for some reason. I am long familiar with cashiers somehow "needing" to vacate the checkout, and another variation is that another cashier comes in, often guy for girl. Not this time, just this over-tattoo-ed unfriendly blonde girl. I get out to my vehicle, and lo, if some Fuckwit with a tan brown vehicle didn't pull in between me and another prior parked vehicle with a stalker sitting in it, and lo, these two dudes were making repairs on their vehicle, one of them underneath and the other over-obviously leaning on the vehicle. I get past this Fuckwit, back up and drive off. And what is the point of all that; if you have a vehicle to fix in the parking lot give yourself elbow room at the other end of the lot instead of pulling in between two parked vehicles. And one was wearing these fugly brown check baggy shorts. Do the perps have a clown department or something?
I got the Ford Escape through the gate and parked it on the lawn next to my place so I could get around it and wax it. Not unexpectedly I had extra aircraft stalking coverage, dogs barking and the very loathesome HD motorcycle noise going by. It seems the perps have added a new motorcycle in the neighborhood to make noise as in passing by, unlike the two that are located and start up across the lane. The latter HD motorcycle noise erupted in the afternoon when I was doing windows and interior, and while idling, the Mrs got into a screaming row with the fugly dude with the motorcycle. I get to be at least ear-witness to couple arguements every year or so, and I suppose this was my annual dose. All while the HD motorcycle idling noise continued. A two-fer on the noise combination front. Then the dude shut it down and never took it anywhere. Go figure.
Later I took my knee cap damaged colleague out on his now-weekly shopping trip. And what is it about the eggs section that turns into a holy dude clusterfuck? Each time of the three weeks, and all these dudes or with kids descend on the cooler case and then stand around. It is fucking nuts, and of course I am with him and he is directing me to the correct location, so I don't have my usual "bail out" or avoidance options.
The perp assholes duly pulled some rain for the first time today while driving back with my colleague, testing out the Rain-X I put on the windshield it would seem. And what is it about vehicle waxing and windshield treatment that so interests the perps?
Enough perp follies for the week and now to get this posted for the record.
Another day of hand weeding, that is, with a shovel and a work colleague on the other side of the trellis wires also digging away. My digging partner was the guy who I termed a "disengagee" for his focus on this phone, even during lunch time. Today, amazingly, he was absolutely chatty. I am totally astounded as this sudden behavior change. Though, there may have been an ulterior motive; all his chattiness effectively prevented me from wearing my headphones and listening to music all day. Such music listening and headphone wearing interruptions haven't gone unnoticed in past blog postings; running loud vehicles is another way to drive me from listening to headphones, as is overhead aircraft flights. As usual, the weeding was hard work, and there was no let up or other diversionary activities, even for an hour or so.
The other male ponytail on the crew was less charitable; at the end of the day, and had nothing to do with him, he is holding a pitchfork and offers to throw it to me. I said "right...." and then he seemed not to have heard me, and then said something to the effect that I might not of liked the suggestion. I had this asshole pegged as a loser before I started there, and I heard that from the former crew chief from last year. This insulting rude-shit was totally unprovoked as I have always kept my nose clean and not bothered anyone. And this prick comes up with this shit.
05-09-2017
The aggravating rude-ass, per above, was all over my ass while we were doing a rock pick this morning in a new just-plowed area that is due for planting soon. What is it about this asshole that he needed to keep dogging me from L to R, R to L, and keep getting into my vision? I would look away from where he was and pick rocks in that direction and this Fuckwit would show up again. Thank goodness rock picking was done in an hour. Then onto weed digging for the rest of the day.
I was too wiped out from yesterday to go to yoga last night. But I had left my boots out so they wouldn't stink out the joint, and the plan was that I would pick them up and put them inside when off to yoga. Of course that didn't happen, and the boots were outside all night. This is the second such outside "boot leaving" in two weeks; last time it was the other pair abetted by a alarm defeat of unknown cause. And what is so fucking important to the Psychopathic Fuckover Force that they need to have my boots sit on the lawn outside overnight? Again, no rain unloaded on them, a stunt they pulled last year.
05-10-2017
Another brutal day of digging weeds in the vineyard. One each side of the row, and my partner went "incommunicado" for the morning. In the afternoon, now armed with my player and my headphones, he starts chirping away. After a while I give up, ergo, no headphones or music. I cannot recount the number of past times headphone wearing (playing music) gets interrupted (e.g. loud vehicles, change in job task), and now we have another way. I am sure there will be more kinds, and many more headphone wearing disruption events to come.
And too, they added in aircraft stalking while the headphones were on; a low overhead pass (150') above terrain of a two engine fire retardant bomber, and in the elegant aerobatic-stalking of aircraft, it circled again, though 300m distant, same elevation.
05-11-2017
It started out to be a day of digging weeds until 30 minutes later, we were re-directed to help out on a small new plantation block. The posts needed to be erected and the trellis wires strung. I was on the post pounding team, saved from the dog-me gangstalker dude who would of been hanging about me like a bad smell all day. I don't know of anyone who is so in my face so often for seeming innocuous reasons. (Save the rude-ass offer from him, per above, about catching a pitch fork). The work day was called off an hour early when the thunderstorms came in, along with rain. There was a weather warning out for flash floods in some areas, so everyone is in an elevated sense of fear over the weather in this region.
05-12-2017
Friday, and some weeding today, and one particular bunch grass weed around a vine took two of us 10 minutes to extricate. It was the most root dense grass bunch I have seen in three weeks of this toil.
I was spared from all day weeding thankfully by the task assignment of putting up the irrigation lines, meaning, the black polyethylene pipes that are strung along the posts and drip out water at a constant rate. These would also be called "drip lines". There was also a solid sprinkler line put in every two rows as well. And have I mentioned how the perps love me to be messing with water delivery methods, and that would include irrigation pipes, drip lines, sprinklers and all other means. Of note, the ground was quite wet from the overnight rains, and so one could count this as another water delivery mechanism. And some rain showers today too, with plenty of temperature changes to go with it.
True to perp form, we ran out of drip line some 3 rows from the end on this .25 acre section, and so the boss man set off to get a roll of drip line. And of course it was a different make with a different dripper design, having the distinctive blue line running its length, the drip line that most vineyards use, including this one, save the rest of this section that we had installed (2 rolls worth). In the course of hanging up the drip line on the wires, the boss man had to cut off a small extra portion, and lo, if he didn't show me this split open section with its integral pressure compensating dripper, having borrowed my secateurs to cut it off (all he had to do) and cut it open as well. And so it continues; the perps' obsession over water delivery methods, and added to it, cutting said pipe (cutlery and cutting obsession) and showing it to me.
Also today, and I suppose water-related, there was a helicopter across the lake practicing using a "monsoon bucket", a collapsible slung bucket that is immersed in water and then is transported for fire suppression purposes. The bucket was duly discharged as well, presumably in concert with yet more variations on water delivery methods, even if a kilometer away.
05-13-2017
My big deal of the day, two in fact; getting the vehicle cleaned in preparation for waxing it, and then legs getting waxed. Funny how both relate to wax in their own way. But as wax is often a petroleum product, the perps are quite cranked about its particular properties, especially any "earth energies", aka, photonic field properties it may have and how those interact with this here TI victim.
The Pyschopaths had me get the vehicle cleaning done in the morning, starting with a foam brush, white foam coming out. They have in the past arranged red colored foam from the brush at the cleaning station, but have backed off on this in recent years, all at the same location. At 0900h on a Saturday I was surprised it was busy at the cleaning bays, and so I had to wait and watch the gut-strut; elders with large guts attempting to clean their vehicles. And lo, if they didn't' decrease the time for what the $2 coin gets in the slot now; instead of a $5 job it became a $7 job. And adroitly arranged for the first time cleaning this Ford Escape, with the planted notion that it is the vehicle that "caused" the extra time requirement. No, it is about the same size as the Camry, just higher, so what is the deal. Then to vacuum my vehicle, as it seems the mud is accreting from vineyard work in uncharacteristic amounts. I had my stalker buddy arrive on the other side of the outside vacuum cleaner station, vaccums are always a big perp prop for whatever reason. Then my highway drive for 20 min. to dry it off, replete with the vehicular gangstalking trains to accompany me.
Then to check out the regular Saturday Farmers Market, though I need not have bothered. I see they re-paved the street area to widen the sidewalks and thereby constrict the central egress space between each side of the stalls. Well done; it was already a cluster fuck, and now they made it worse. And of course the perps blanked me out of going at my usual time at 0830h, just when it opens, so to avoid said swarms. Now there is a better reason to go early, as egress has been constricted. We shall see how this one goes and whether they increase the stalkers and dawdlers at that time just to screw me all the more. Alternatively they can have me get up late to miss my intended shopping time.
And I suppose, with that particular segment of the street formerly being paved with asphalt, and now with a grey brick, I suppose this too is some kind of earth surface/color interaction game. (Same vendors, operatives and gangstalkers, now a year later). Surely, with astronauts orbiting the Earth, or moon even, the perps have figured out some kind of energy interaction differential for all their unwitting subjects? Never mind the speculation that subjects like Obama have been teleported to Mars, per web story of two years ago.
As mentioned a few times before, egress constriction is not a new perp tactic; the aisles of stores are often littered with extra displays to accomplish the same, and lo, if that isn't where a stalker isn't standing there too, typically with their ass projecting into the aisle in a mock posture feigning looking at low shelf items. The fact that they are arranged at these aisle constriction points so much more than normal is an outrage, and then to pretend not to notice they are constricting the aisle is ridiculous, and on top of that they also take an extended time to conduct their supposed introspection of the shelf items is even more absurd. On top of that, they don't select anything, making sure that the whole feigned "shopping" was an obvious gangstalking stunt. What it is about projecting someone's ass in my direction, or intended path, in a shopping aisle is totally beyond me, save to say that any kind of spinal stretches seems to exercise the spine in a way that presents a different energy profile. Hence being allowed to take yoga and the cluster fucking that goes on there.
Onto leg waxing in the afternoon; instead of the regular supervisor (its a training school) with whom I have extended chats over wine and wine tasting, I got a returning student from a few years ago. She was the temporary supervisor, and with her, a young trainee, just graduated from high school. As often, one on one side and one on the other, and each stayed in place when I flipped over. One was blonde and one was brunette, and no unnatural hair colors this time. I had some conversation with each of them and all was friendly, and was out of there in 40 minutes or less. Like anything, any regular contact or engagement with anyone, even if every 8 weeks apart, or even less, say with doctors, must be disrupted by the perps. They cannot tolerate me even going to the shoemaker in town before something gets messy/problematic and forces me to take my shoes out of town to get fixed. I just don't understand why they have to disrupt routines all the time.
In the afternoon, the sun came on, which presents problems with waxing my vehicle, so back inside and I listening to some Youtube videos on cancer (woohoo). The list of persecuted doctors who practice proven and researched alternate therapies that are substantially more efficacious than conventional treatment (if that) gets longer. Hoxsey, Kelly, Burzinsky as three, and I see that Dr. Nicholas Gonzalez died from a heart attack in 2015. He looked perfectly fine in the hour long 2014 video here. So what is it about cancer and the horrific immune system clobbering "treatments" (chemotherapy and irradiation) that the perps need to defend to the point of running alternative care doctors out of the country, if not, inundate them with investigations (14 different agencies in the case of Dr. Kelly)? I don't know, but in one video in this series a doctor mentions medical advances being allowed in other disciplines, but not in cancer. Is it purely an surreptitious immune system nonconsensual research project, also aided by HIV, or is it about selective takedown of individuals for various reasons? Or both?
05-14-2017
Sunday, and an 0600h text from the landlord to say they are going away for a week and could I look after the mail etc. No problem, but why so early.
The weather was cold and wet first thing so I hung back for a while, and read, and lo, if the assholes didn't have me puke up again, something they now do every three weeks or so. Once feeling better I was getting ready to set off to get automobile wax, and lo, if they didn't script a piss, and lo, on top of that, a crap. Unbelievable, this three way purge inside of 4 minutes all before setting off to get automobile wax, and my supply from last year had been strangely drawn down more than I expected. (Continuing this weekend's wax confluence/coincidence).
While at the auto shop, the dudes came to choke down egress by lining up at the cashier, which just "happened" to be where the automotive wax was. Anyhow, I found what I wanted, and when they had finally finished at the cashier, and when I proceeded to the desk, why, a pair off dudes brushed by from behind me, one of whom "happened" to be the tractor driver at the vineyard I work. Then another pair of dudes entered the store after they departed, who then preceded me out when I was about to depart. The cashier wasn't too pleasant and had to vacate the checkout twice to check the stock number for some reason. I am long familiar with cashiers somehow "needing" to vacate the checkout, and another variation is that another cashier comes in, often guy for girl. Not this time, just this over-tattoo-ed unfriendly blonde girl. I get out to my vehicle, and lo, if some Fuckwit with a tan brown vehicle didn't pull in between me and another prior parked vehicle with a stalker sitting in it, and lo, these two dudes were making repairs on their vehicle, one of them underneath and the other over-obviously leaning on the vehicle. I get past this Fuckwit, back up and drive off. And what is the point of all that; if you have a vehicle to fix in the parking lot give yourself elbow room at the other end of the lot instead of pulling in between two parked vehicles. And one was wearing these fugly brown check baggy shorts. Do the perps have a clown department or something?
I got the Ford Escape through the gate and parked it on the lawn next to my place so I could get around it and wax it. Not unexpectedly I had extra aircraft stalking coverage, dogs barking and the very loathesome HD motorcycle noise going by. It seems the perps have added a new motorcycle in the neighborhood to make noise as in passing by, unlike the two that are located and start up across the lane. The latter HD motorcycle noise erupted in the afternoon when I was doing windows and interior, and while idling, the Mrs got into a screaming row with the fugly dude with the motorcycle. I get to be at least ear-witness to couple arguements every year or so, and I suppose this was my annual dose. All while the HD motorcycle idling noise continued. A two-fer on the noise combination front. Then the dude shut it down and never took it anywhere. Go figure.
Later I took my knee cap damaged colleague out on his now-weekly shopping trip. And what is it about the eggs section that turns into a holy dude clusterfuck? Each time of the three weeks, and all these dudes or with kids descend on the cooler case and then stand around. It is fucking nuts, and of course I am with him and he is directing me to the correct location, so I don't have my usual "bail out" or avoidance options.
The perp assholes duly pulled some rain for the first time today while driving back with my colleague, testing out the Rain-X I put on the windshield it would seem. And what is it about vehicle waxing and windshield treatment that so interests the perps?
Enough perp follies for the week and now to get this posted for the record.
Monday, June 07, 2010
Crotch Potato
1915h
A very busy two days of farm work, and a stayover at the First Feral Family home last night, delivering me to the farm work site this morning at 0700h. All kinds of perp disruption to established habits have transpired, and likely for habits to be if this farming gig takes me to November as suggested by the management. It is not the farm of the last two years, but one much closer into town and less commute time. But lots of hours, some getting 60/week according to one of the management staff.
June 05 was picking strawberries adjacent to a busy road, June 06 was picking potatoes with some rain interuptions, and June 07, today, was a full on day of picking potatoes, and then washing them on the conveyor line, right to the boxed state, ready for shipping. And I got to work on the "conveyor line" in the box of the hopper truck with sloped sides and a plywood covered conveyor in the bottom. It was my job to control the feed rate so the conveyor motor didn't need to be on/off-ed, and I did that by straddling the sides of the hopper truck bin, and controlling how fast the tumbling potatoes landed onto the conveyor. Largely accomplished by blocking them with my feet (in gumboots), and with a hose to direct them down if needed. I also pulled the plywood covers off the conveyor to reveal more of it as the pile was diminishing further back toward the front of the hopper box. So... every potatoe shipped for the past two days, tonnes of them, had passed under me as I straddled the hopper box as it was the only way to be able to stand up, as the potatoes covered the plywood conveyor hatches for the most part. Quite the juxtaposition of events and objects to say the least, not to mention all the water being sprayed at high pressure to douse the potatoes and direct them down the conveyor. Everything was food-safe and all that, save the odd potatoe I stepped on, (actually, my foot was lifted up unbidden by me and came down on a spud), which would of been picked out of the line further along, as they have a qualty person, after the spud shower stage to pick out splits, funky ones, soft ones and any that are disfigured or ugly. Rest assured, any of the few spuds that ended up under my boot were not passed onto the food chain.
And as part of that entire gig, I was picking the potatoes in the field with the crew of eight or so, picking them up by hand as these are the small new potatoes and too small for the automated equipment apparently. Soo... my colleagues were OK folk, Punjabis mostly, and most from one family, with one or two that aren't, and then one Asian. A large Caucasian woman joined the crew today, about two hours into the work day, and I did get to speak English today, save the 20 y.o. Punjabi girl who is fluent in both languages. BUT the males especially, made me very claustrophobic despite being in some 50 acres of fields, and they kept invading my personal space, and arranging their asses to be pointintoward me some 70% of the picking time. One of the seeming-senior Punjabis was doing his wander all over act, picking my row ahead of me, and then not, and fussing over me when my plastic 5 gal. bucket was filled, or even partially filled with just a few. He was doing the "helpful" work, keeping us pickers going without intervening stops to take the full bucket to the nearby bin where we dumped all the potatoes, once picked. Helpful sort of; he would take my bucket without notice (sort of OK, as I could observe it), sometimes bring it back, or swap me for an empty one, or sometimes do both. No rhyme or reason, and as well, picking in my row where he specifically wanted me to pick. The ass-planting bullshit got too extreme at times, and so I went ahead and worked there, and usually, withing 10 seconds, they had a picker beside me, sometimes doing ass-planting again. I don't want anyone's ass closer than 18" of my face in any public or worksite experience, so why in the fuck is this insane ass-planting cluster fucking bullshit going on? Like I say, they cannot ever get enough ass-plantings in my face, and last years berry picking also brought similar high rudeness, this being the freaking native Indians.
2050h
Speaking of which, the two days ago first day of farm work, and a mighty sunny one at that, came with a overpopulated freak show on the city bus, this at 1600h on a Sunday for crissakes. And one native Indian large gutted and long haired male with his skanky babe, the candidates for the Least-Likely-To-Be-Travelling-On-a-City-Bus award, were on the back bench 4' away. Then about 3/4 into the bus ride, he makes a beeline for me, but isn't looking at me, and looks at the window and raps on it, making it look as if he saw someone he knew. Like WTF; he wouldn't of been able to see anyone from where he was, and he invades my personal space, scaring the living shit out of me having this Fuckwit barreling at me, and he expects to live the tale. Well, when working with the assholes, to a script, they can have these invasions "happen" without consequence to the perpetrator. In a rough town, without the mind-fucck script going, he would of had a knife up his nose. It is fucking insane I cannot be permitted to be left alone in public, and having these grevious incursions on my personal space. Only the day before, someone waiting at the daytime bus stop, with no prior history with the police, minding his own business, was murdered in broad daylight. There isn't a fucking gnat fart in this sick town that isn't arranged, so I am assuming the hapless victim was fucked over by the Fourth Reich. This incident, "happened" a day before I resumed my city bus trips, so I cannot say it was truly coordinated with the abuse they heap on me (including blood samples about 5x/week), but it bears thinking about. And the victim was E. Indian, and lo, if I didn't start working with an E. Indian crew the next day. And yesterday, this E. Indian, arrives with my ex's older daughter, and no one introduced him, or explained why he was there. And he does his homework while there for crissakes. Stupider and stupider. And I got noise stalked and rage-ified with insane degrees of typo sabotage while this was typed up.
2200h
An early night as I have to take a hot bath to relax my stiff muscles and remove the excuses for making me so stiff.
Other bullshit was yesterday, when I had to pack for work, but also a First Feral Family (FFF) stayover, and lo, I didn't "forget" all my usual toiletries and face cloth I take there every Sunday. So.. last night, no teeth cleaning, same this morning, no Deep Clean for the eveningtime greasy face, and no shaving this morning, and no shower which includes no shampoo or conditioner. All very important events for the remote energetics evaluation and experimentation crowd, the gutless wonders of the TI abuse. In other words, I wasn't permitted to use the plastic packaged products which seem to be the bane for the sickos, and they had me in relatively "raw form" this morning for a 0700h work start and a 1715 finish after two cycles of potato picking and washing, per above.
Anyhow, I will get this done now, call it a day, for another early start.
no shave, shower, etc
A very busy two days of farm work, and a stayover at the First Feral Family home last night, delivering me to the farm work site this morning at 0700h. All kinds of perp disruption to established habits have transpired, and likely for habits to be if this farming gig takes me to November as suggested by the management. It is not the farm of the last two years, but one much closer into town and less commute time. But lots of hours, some getting 60/week according to one of the management staff.
June 05 was picking strawberries adjacent to a busy road, June 06 was picking potatoes with some rain interuptions, and June 07, today, was a full on day of picking potatoes, and then washing them on the conveyor line, right to the boxed state, ready for shipping. And I got to work on the "conveyor line" in the box of the hopper truck with sloped sides and a plywood covered conveyor in the bottom. It was my job to control the feed rate so the conveyor motor didn't need to be on/off-ed, and I did that by straddling the sides of the hopper truck bin, and controlling how fast the tumbling potatoes landed onto the conveyor. Largely accomplished by blocking them with my feet (in gumboots), and with a hose to direct them down if needed. I also pulled the plywood covers off the conveyor to reveal more of it as the pile was diminishing further back toward the front of the hopper box. So... every potatoe shipped for the past two days, tonnes of them, had passed under me as I straddled the hopper box as it was the only way to be able to stand up, as the potatoes covered the plywood conveyor hatches for the most part. Quite the juxtaposition of events and objects to say the least, not to mention all the water being sprayed at high pressure to douse the potatoes and direct them down the conveyor. Everything was food-safe and all that, save the odd potatoe I stepped on, (actually, my foot was lifted up unbidden by me and came down on a spud), which would of been picked out of the line further along, as they have a qualty person, after the spud shower stage to pick out splits, funky ones, soft ones and any that are disfigured or ugly. Rest assured, any of the few spuds that ended up under my boot were not passed onto the food chain.
And as part of that entire gig, I was picking the potatoes in the field with the crew of eight or so, picking them up by hand as these are the small new potatoes and too small for the automated equipment apparently. Soo... my colleagues were OK folk, Punjabis mostly, and most from one family, with one or two that aren't, and then one Asian. A large Caucasian woman joined the crew today, about two hours into the work day, and I did get to speak English today, save the 20 y.o. Punjabi girl who is fluent in both languages. BUT the males especially, made me very claustrophobic despite being in some 50 acres of fields, and they kept invading my personal space, and arranging their asses to be pointintoward me some 70% of the picking time. One of the seeming-senior Punjabis was doing his wander all over act, picking my row ahead of me, and then not, and fussing over me when my plastic 5 gal. bucket was filled, or even partially filled with just a few. He was doing the "helpful" work, keeping us pickers going without intervening stops to take the full bucket to the nearby bin where we dumped all the potatoes, once picked. Helpful sort of; he would take my bucket without notice (sort of OK, as I could observe it), sometimes bring it back, or swap me for an empty one, or sometimes do both. No rhyme or reason, and as well, picking in my row where he specifically wanted me to pick. The ass-planting bullshit got too extreme at times, and so I went ahead and worked there, and usually, withing 10 seconds, they had a picker beside me, sometimes doing ass-planting again. I don't want anyone's ass closer than 18" of my face in any public or worksite experience, so why in the fuck is this insane ass-planting cluster fucking bullshit going on? Like I say, they cannot ever get enough ass-plantings in my face, and last years berry picking also brought similar high rudeness, this being the freaking native Indians.
2050h
Speaking of which, the two days ago first day of farm work, and a mighty sunny one at that, came with a overpopulated freak show on the city bus, this at 1600h on a Sunday for crissakes. And one native Indian large gutted and long haired male with his skanky babe, the candidates for the Least-Likely-To-Be-Travelling-On-a-City-Bus award, were on the back bench 4' away. Then about 3/4 into the bus ride, he makes a beeline for me, but isn't looking at me, and looks at the window and raps on it, making it look as if he saw someone he knew. Like WTF; he wouldn't of been able to see anyone from where he was, and he invades my personal space, scaring the living shit out of me having this Fuckwit barreling at me, and he expects to live the tale. Well, when working with the assholes, to a script, they can have these invasions "happen" without consequence to the perpetrator. In a rough town, without the mind-fucck script going, he would of had a knife up his nose. It is fucking insane I cannot be permitted to be left alone in public, and having these grevious incursions on my personal space. Only the day before, someone waiting at the daytime bus stop, with no prior history with the police, minding his own business, was murdered in broad daylight. There isn't a fucking gnat fart in this sick town that isn't arranged, so I am assuming the hapless victim was fucked over by the Fourth Reich. This incident, "happened" a day before I resumed my city bus trips, so I cannot say it was truly coordinated with the abuse they heap on me (including blood samples about 5x/week), but it bears thinking about. And the victim was E. Indian, and lo, if I didn't start working with an E. Indian crew the next day. And yesterday, this E. Indian, arrives with my ex's older daughter, and no one introduced him, or explained why he was there. And he does his homework while there for crissakes. Stupider and stupider. And I got noise stalked and rage-ified with insane degrees of typo sabotage while this was typed up.
2200h
An early night as I have to take a hot bath to relax my stiff muscles and remove the excuses for making me so stiff.
Other bullshit was yesterday, when I had to pack for work, but also a First Feral Family (FFF) stayover, and lo, I didn't "forget" all my usual toiletries and face cloth I take there every Sunday. So.. last night, no teeth cleaning, same this morning, no Deep Clean for the eveningtime greasy face, and no shaving this morning, and no shower which includes no shampoo or conditioner. All very important events for the remote energetics evaluation and experimentation crowd, the gutless wonders of the TI abuse. In other words, I wasn't permitted to use the plastic packaged products which seem to be the bane for the sickos, and they had me in relatively "raw form" this morning for a 0700h work start and a 1715 finish after two cycles of potato picking and washing, per above.
Anyhow, I will get this done now, call it a day, for another early start.
no shave, shower, etc
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