11-20-2018
As I write this the ground and this building I live in is shaking. The garage opposite my window across the back lane is getting demolished as I write, with the aid of an excavator and a dump truck. And the fact that I am home at 1000h on a Tuesday to witness this is also not a fluke; as it "happens" the boss wasn't in and there wasn't anything assigned to do, nor any tasks outstanding. I wasn't the only one in these circumstances, and I drove my co-worker home as well. The two installers at work were also running out of things to do and were on the brink of heading home too.
Back to the excavator for a moment, and the articulating boom with the bucket and thumb on the end. Have I not mentioned before that the perps like to arrange boom trucks to transit, and more often, work with extended booms in my proximity with inordinate frequency? Many times I think, but this time it is only 20' away and shaking the place. And too, the demolition of buildings seems to be big deal, with the inevitable conclusion of the debris going to the landfill. Construction of buildings is also of perp interest too for that matter, though it of course takes longer.
Yoga last night, and a full house of some 18 other yogis. I don't know why the woman behind me had to park her mat 6" away when there was plenty of space elsewhere in the room, but hey, this is "normal". The E. Indian male shirtless freak wasn't there, and hence none of that purposeful gliding in at the last second to put his mat beside mine, like he did twice in succession.
The yogic freak show last night seemed to be about tattoos; at least two full arm jobs on women, and the female instructor was also full measure in that department. (I can barely look at her). There were at least three more women with lesser arm tattoos, the scripted writing going up the arm for crissakes. The instructor said next week's class will be her last, so it is either that the next instructor and her unsightly tattoos are going to be more prominent or much less. We shall see.
Another yoga instructor feature the perps like to manipulate is the manner of the instructor's tone of speech; is the instruction delivered as more of a suggestion/request, or as an insistent command. This seems to be a big deal for the perps, as one instructor who had much more of an authoritative command type delivery only lasted one session about three years ago. Go figure.
The loathesome game of huggies in the supermarket, but this time it was my turn. After work I went SOF and a woman viticulturist I know was there and greeted me with a hug. We chatted only briefly, and as her boyfiend was there. I met her at the harvest party two weeks ago, and again, didn't get much interaction time before we were interupted. I had spoken to her at length last year, on two occasions. It would seem the perps are up to their games of limiting contact time with known associates. She is one of the few people I find conversational and interesting and we never failed to chat at length whenever we have crossed paths in vineyard jobs in the last three years.
11-22-2018
To the big city of Kelowna today, to get my IV iron transfusion, as the Good Doctor determined I was low and she also had done prior diligence in determining that I don't absorb iron. I was hoping to meet her and get some idea of how to turn this into a more quantifiable and consistent treatment regimen, rather than me phoning for my "annual" iron check up. And too, the Good Doctor wasn't very consistent this year, as I had to remind her that a ferritin test was inadequate, and she had to re-test me for other iron parameters. As to what they all are and their relative levels I don't know, nor am I any the wiser as to how the results were interpreted. I had to remind her last year of the same thing. So yes, the Good Doctor is losing her status IMHO, though she deserves full credit for disposition for action.
Curiously, I didn't get to see the Good Doctor this time, and only the recently hired nurse administered the IV feed. And the price went up $100 from last year, so I felt a little miffed that I didn't get to articulate my need to get this whole deal down to a more predictable schedule. The last twice I had the iron IV, the office staff babes popped by to check up on me, presumably in place of the doctor, as the process takes over an hour. The nurse did check up on me, but wasn't nearly as attractive though.
I went early to the big city to the tool supply store N of town and got a 1/8" round over router bit after three weeks of promises from the boss man as it is holding up completion of our chair rail installation at the hospital construction site. I was just plain fed up in other words, as he had already travelled to Kelowna twice in the last two weeks and failed to get the router bit as promised.
I got back to the hospital construction site at 1230h, and lo, if someone from the crew, who (unexpectedly) took a day off with the boss man in Kelowna last week, didn't also "happen" to be getting the same router bit as stated by the boss man. No good deed goes unpunished, sabotaged, compromised, duplicated or otherwise interfered with. As it "happened", the boss texted the co-worker in time and he did not get the router bit, and loaded up on purchasing a large number of tools for his own use. A curious "coincidence" I find, given the perps interest in sending others I am working with to the same stores, (this time a hours' drive away) and of course, engaging in financial transactions (for similar items, e.g. tools). Said co-worker was there in the big city last week, and didn't get any tools then, and had a day off two days beforehand. All too odd IMHO. And if I have a tool fetish, one can be sure the perps have long arranged this for whatever reasons they have in this.
And what is with the perps arranging finger cuts of late? I have had three in the last week, and the last most was most odd as I did not run my finger into anything sharp. Yesterday it was an obvious jerkaround; I had used a chisel while kneeling on the floor, and then placed it 12" from where I was using my R hand, and lo, if my L hand didn't inexplicably move for no purpose and get run into the chisel. I was absolutely pissed, as it was a blatant mind fuck stunt. And it "happened" at the same location of last week where the aforementioned curious cause finger cut erupted. The perps just love to arrange blood "samples" as I call them, usually arranging blood to drop onto the floor or nearby objects.
Another imperative of the perp assholes is to slow things up, and bloodletting with arranged finger cuts also serves that purpose. On both occasions, I was in the groove, efficiently attending to something that I know how to do well, and then the assholes struck with a finger cut to then break up the continuity and sense of purpose. Meaning that I had to go to the office and clean it up, and put on a band-aid. Like what the fuck for?
Other continuity disruptions this week were when guys came by with innocuous reasons, as in lame questions, when I was in the groove and getting on with end banding. I was using the router and the new bit to get the plastic imitation wood grain pieces made up that go on the exposed ends of the MDF chair rails, finally attending to this pointless (IMHO) imposed delay that the boss man invoked in spite of his avowed interest in finishing this particular job. My regular co-worker for the chair rails, the passive-aggressive Russian emigre mentioned in past posts, also came by to run his hand over the routed pieces I had made up. Funny that, with the perps longstanding interest in cutting tools, from knives onward, and he shows up, when he was busy on another assignment that kept him fully occupied. Even more curious was that he later came by to sweep up the plastic chips that had spewed from the routers over the prior two hours I was in the cutting room. It has been most unlike him to do any sweeping or cleaning, especially if it was for me.
Anti-metal music here, aka bluegrass-like; I won't vouch for the lyrics, but to hear good music and see such accomplished performers having so much fun is too hard to resist giving this a link. David Rawlings Machine as they like to call themselves; Hot Corn, Cold Corn needs some lyrical translation for this northerner, but I play it most nights of late.
Enough for a post for the week I think, even if the multitude of workplace gangstalkers is so predictable in "arriving" when I turn corners or enter or exit the building. Also, elevator egress (of me, and my gangstalkers) are a big deal for the perps, something that they taught me early when all this insane abuse rained (or reigned) down 04-2002 and hasn't let up. Suddenly, all manner of folks just plain "forgot" normal elevator etiquette of letting the passengers out before entering and started piling in to prevent my egress and/or to bump into me on purpose.
In support of this activity, they even pulled an obvious teleportation job a few months ago at this work site, mentioned in a posting at the time, where the guy (supposed tradesman) gets out on one floor and then "somehow" shows up on the next higher floor getting on, with no conventional discernible means or available time to pull this off. That he was wearing a backpack and had it pushed into me (due to the small elevator and high passenger load) added to his perp cred. The perps like to arrange backpacks to back into me, the usual ploy being that the wearer feigns obliviousness of their extended depth. Another past common location for this stunt is public transportation, aided by the buses being peculiarly busy for that time of day and direction.
Showing posts with label cut hand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cut hand. Show all posts
Sunday, November 25, 2018
Thursday, February 22, 2007
A Two Outing Day
1555h
Two outings in one day is a big deal for the perps as they often script no events for shut-in days and have me suffer from (or create) cabin fever by the next day.
It was yoga at 1130h and a doctor's appointment at 1430h. The yoga went well, the main harassment events were plasma beams all over the place, some masers, wobbling me when balanced on one foot, and the litany of gangstalk action that I can see outside, through the windows. In the last-mentioned case, there was the usual parade of men mostly, with some vehicular action and sirens going off once the window was opened. A red dressed person retrieving items from a red vehicles's trunk was one such orchestrated feint.
The instructor's bright red hair has been toned down some I noticed, quite possibly for perp reasons as they frequently plant red haired shills or operatives around me, and have been doing this since high school, though I did not know it to be orchestrated then. Another of those not-my-problem situations that I am forced to participate in. Not that I have anything personal about redheads, it is not my favorite hair color and I have no reason why. It could be related to the perp's traumatizations in early development years, or it could well be one of the created aversions their irradiations (of my brain) created at that time. In a past blog I mentioned there was a red hair aversive Asian woman I had read about in a memoir, and so it is likely there are some specific brain energies and/or locations where that particular phobia is retained.
After lunch I set off to the doctor's appointment by walking there, a 25 minute city street walk each way. At one juncture, there were three gangstalking parties up to 100' ahead of me, and each was wearing green, as was I. My jacket is olive drab, and there was a woman with a brighter olive green jacket ahead of me, then a woman with a near olive drab backpack, and beyond them, a party of two, one in olive drab and the other in a aqua green.
As I walked beside a main traffic artery there was 300 to 500 gangstalking vehicles arranged and coordinated on my walk as if a near permanent rush hour was in progress,- not this city. The perps went nuts on red again, packing four deep red colored vehicles together with a cyclist in front of them, wearing a red helmet at one location.
When I returned on the same route, they arranged for the first three gangstalk parties to be wearing shades of green, more grass green this time, and not the olive green variants to my outbound journey leg.
I had my glass bottle basher enroute as well; the vagrant with shopping cart and loads of plastic bags act again, this time with some "finds" to serve as the glass to bash together as I approached this vagrant act. The perps must keep the same props somewhere, and trot out different vagrants, as some have been women even.
1825h
As this is the post-dinner digestion period and the dusk onset time, both being drivers in being noisestalked, masered and plasma-ed; this is a double-up harassment time. The lead footed hallway walkers with jingling keys are making pass-bys, slamming the front door and shaking this room as a putative cause, and then there are outside vehicles brakes squeaking, loud mufflers resonating and other noises. Now the smell jamming into my nose has begun, and the assholes don't like it much when I blow out the smell as they come back with another snort for me.
Today's doctors' appointment wasn't the usual frisson, he was actually calm instead of baiting me in his setup games, though as usual, he had nothing to say to the agglomeration of red and white vehicles around me, the most inexplicable event being some six of each color at one intersection, and then again at the same intersection the next day.
The doctor's waiting room act is typically a perp stunt center, and sure enough, four gangstalkers came in around me shortly after I arrived, one to show off his vile yellow jacket. And there is also a parade of putative staff backing and forthing beyond the waiting area, and one who came, then departed for a back and forth inside of a few minutes (normal), but then somehow arrived again within a few minutes as he was exiting for the second time. He must of been on a teleport job as I cannot see how he would of got back so fast by an alternate route.
When I was walking home, the perps got into their shoe fetish by launching a pair of runners fixed together by their shoelaces onto the overhead powerlines. I always wondered when I saw this in the past as to who would be so idiotic to do that and for what purpose, especially if the runners are in good condition. Now that I know I have an army of arrangers around me all the time, it makes sense, especially when they have a fascination with shoes. Operatives and shills often look at their footwear soles in public, my shoes get unconventionally trashed to neccessitate more visits to the cobbler, the perps place their feet up on railings if availible and a whole host of games that go with configuring shoes in my proximity.
Perhaps Imelda Marcos and her 800 pairs of shoes had a hidden hand in feeding this fetish that she could afford to indulge in.
1955h
Relative quiet at last, the vibrating PC noise excepted, one of the add-ons when it was out for repair three weeks ago. This is not unusual, especially for the PC. One time it went in and when it came back there was a 3" long 1/8" vertical groove routed down the center under the on button. It was cut into the plastic front/fascia but not through as there was a sub-millimeter remaining bridge in the bottom of the groove. About a year later, when it was taken in again, the groove was cut through, leaving an open slot. Additionally, there were at least two LED lights installed, one red and the other green. I didn't have them before, and I still didn't know why they were put in. Then last year when the PC was in for a new motherboard, the perps filled the slot with a transparent plastic to reveal the colors of the LED lights they arranged behind the plastic facia. This represents over two years of progressive pissing with the plastic fascia of the PC, and no wonder they didn't want me to order a new case when the PC was rebuilt last September (2006), as it is the only original part now.
2035h
A siren cascade has been put on for me to hear; and they added in one of their absurdities. This is a 1960's siren sound, sandwiched between the current day siren noise. Plus they constantly put on a diesel engined vehicle noise into the mix. There just maybe some early childhood recall/association of that characteristic siren sound; I would of been 6 to 15 years old then. Every two months or so they add this characteristic noise.
2105h
The water dripping noise torture has started up again; this is the purported sink, where "somehow" a trickle of water supply then creates these electronic like loud dripping noise, as if I was stuck at the bottom of a deep well. This little stunt began about a month ago and comes and goes as to the degree of annoyance.
Another affronting stunt has been the arrival of various (foreign) colored crumbs that could not of developed from anything I have or did. And they can show up in the strangest of places; behind my ear, under my seat, on my coffee pot (coffee inside the vessel), and even on surfaces that I am not using at the time. One crumb this morning was mysterious enough that I picked it up with a paper towel and disposed of both in the garbage. I didn't want to know.
2135h
More shower-stalking in the next door bathroom; this is at least the third one this evening, and like the last one, it follows when I am reading some interesting story/article that is text only, and no visual web images. Curiously, anytime tonight that I use the vertical scroll to fast, the text "melts" into a blurr, unlike anything I have seen before in Windows.
Another stunt that is playing out tonight is for the perps to suck the blackness and line width consistency from the text that is on my LCD display. This game has reached more frequent levels of late, and is on par with reducing text size as well. There is a "leached out" look to all text that they somehow create, usually in mid-session on the PC. I have no idea what they are doing or what the objective is.
I got my hand whacked at lunchtime earlier today. Nothing visible contacted my hand, though I had the cheese slicer in motion and then there sensation on my left hand without the slicer causing it. I have been through one of these before in the same circumstances; the perps invoke a cut to my hand, my left thumb actually, and then go on to keep it bleeding for a while longer. And this "cut" took at least six weeks for the redness to disappear, and I am sure that was out the the goodness of their sick hearts as they do like me to have red spots on my skin.
But this time, it was two cuts 1/4" apart in two styles; one a direct puncture and the other a scrape revealing a subdermal layer which then bled. And of course I had no bandaids by dint of forward perp planning, and the steptic pencil also "became" problematic in stemming the flow for a time. And since I was needing a new roll of paper towel, why not have me stem the flow with an towel from the old roll (brown center (core) cylinder visible through last paper towel, note), and then again with the new roll? This would be a way to measure the "browness" glow that came off each of the two rolls of paper towel from the cardboard center cylinder against my blood (color).
The perps spend no end of time putting red vehicles in front of green ones, and vice versa, and are now putting red ones in front of brown colored vehicles. It seems that this little bloodletting exercise is an attempt to measure red blood and brown color interaction energetics comparable to that of their vehicle color coordination games. Or, at least this is my interpretation of what the assholes are up to, having seen innumerable brown color games to date since they let me in on them screwing my life over. Sponsoring wars and disasters isn't enough for the perps it seems, and are back to cutting my thumb with action-at-a-distance applications, and now I get the pleasure of watching it heal 10 times slower than normal, all to play red color games again.
2300h
And as a finale for the day, the perps have arranged a fruit fly to dive bomb me in the face, a new fly behavior that they have added since this criminality began almost five years ago.
Time to call it a blog, and deal with getting to bed.
Two outings in one day is a big deal for the perps as they often script no events for shut-in days and have me suffer from (or create) cabin fever by the next day.
It was yoga at 1130h and a doctor's appointment at 1430h. The yoga went well, the main harassment events were plasma beams all over the place, some masers, wobbling me when balanced on one foot, and the litany of gangstalk action that I can see outside, through the windows. In the last-mentioned case, there was the usual parade of men mostly, with some vehicular action and sirens going off once the window was opened. A red dressed person retrieving items from a red vehicles's trunk was one such orchestrated feint.
The instructor's bright red hair has been toned down some I noticed, quite possibly for perp reasons as they frequently plant red haired shills or operatives around me, and have been doing this since high school, though I did not know it to be orchestrated then. Another of those not-my-problem situations that I am forced to participate in. Not that I have anything personal about redheads, it is not my favorite hair color and I have no reason why. It could be related to the perp's traumatizations in early development years, or it could well be one of the created aversions their irradiations (of my brain) created at that time. In a past blog I mentioned there was a red hair aversive Asian woman I had read about in a memoir, and so it is likely there are some specific brain energies and/or locations where that particular phobia is retained.
After lunch I set off to the doctor's appointment by walking there, a 25 minute city street walk each way. At one juncture, there were three gangstalking parties up to 100' ahead of me, and each was wearing green, as was I. My jacket is olive drab, and there was a woman with a brighter olive green jacket ahead of me, then a woman with a near olive drab backpack, and beyond them, a party of two, one in olive drab and the other in a aqua green.
As I walked beside a main traffic artery there was 300 to 500 gangstalking vehicles arranged and coordinated on my walk as if a near permanent rush hour was in progress,- not this city. The perps went nuts on red again, packing four deep red colored vehicles together with a cyclist in front of them, wearing a red helmet at one location.
When I returned on the same route, they arranged for the first three gangstalk parties to be wearing shades of green, more grass green this time, and not the olive green variants to my outbound journey leg.
I had my glass bottle basher enroute as well; the vagrant with shopping cart and loads of plastic bags act again, this time with some "finds" to serve as the glass to bash together as I approached this vagrant act. The perps must keep the same props somewhere, and trot out different vagrants, as some have been women even.
1825h
As this is the post-dinner digestion period and the dusk onset time, both being drivers in being noisestalked, masered and plasma-ed; this is a double-up harassment time. The lead footed hallway walkers with jingling keys are making pass-bys, slamming the front door and shaking this room as a putative cause, and then there are outside vehicles brakes squeaking, loud mufflers resonating and other noises. Now the smell jamming into my nose has begun, and the assholes don't like it much when I blow out the smell as they come back with another snort for me.
Today's doctors' appointment wasn't the usual frisson, he was actually calm instead of baiting me in his setup games, though as usual, he had nothing to say to the agglomeration of red and white vehicles around me, the most inexplicable event being some six of each color at one intersection, and then again at the same intersection the next day.
The doctor's waiting room act is typically a perp stunt center, and sure enough, four gangstalkers came in around me shortly after I arrived, one to show off his vile yellow jacket. And there is also a parade of putative staff backing and forthing beyond the waiting area, and one who came, then departed for a back and forth inside of a few minutes (normal), but then somehow arrived again within a few minutes as he was exiting for the second time. He must of been on a teleport job as I cannot see how he would of got back so fast by an alternate route.
When I was walking home, the perps got into their shoe fetish by launching a pair of runners fixed together by their shoelaces onto the overhead powerlines. I always wondered when I saw this in the past as to who would be so idiotic to do that and for what purpose, especially if the runners are in good condition. Now that I know I have an army of arrangers around me all the time, it makes sense, especially when they have a fascination with shoes. Operatives and shills often look at their footwear soles in public, my shoes get unconventionally trashed to neccessitate more visits to the cobbler, the perps place their feet up on railings if availible and a whole host of games that go with configuring shoes in my proximity.
Perhaps Imelda Marcos and her 800 pairs of shoes had a hidden hand in feeding this fetish that she could afford to indulge in.
1955h
Relative quiet at last, the vibrating PC noise excepted, one of the add-ons when it was out for repair three weeks ago. This is not unusual, especially for the PC. One time it went in and when it came back there was a 3" long 1/8" vertical groove routed down the center under the on button. It was cut into the plastic front/fascia but not through as there was a sub-millimeter remaining bridge in the bottom of the groove. About a year later, when it was taken in again, the groove was cut through, leaving an open slot. Additionally, there were at least two LED lights installed, one red and the other green. I didn't have them before, and I still didn't know why they were put in. Then last year when the PC was in for a new motherboard, the perps filled the slot with a transparent plastic to reveal the colors of the LED lights they arranged behind the plastic facia. This represents over two years of progressive pissing with the plastic fascia of the PC, and no wonder they didn't want me to order a new case when the PC was rebuilt last September (2006), as it is the only original part now.
2035h
A siren cascade has been put on for me to hear; and they added in one of their absurdities. This is a 1960's siren sound, sandwiched between the current day siren noise. Plus they constantly put on a diesel engined vehicle noise into the mix. There just maybe some early childhood recall/association of that characteristic siren sound; I would of been 6 to 15 years old then. Every two months or so they add this characteristic noise.
2105h
The water dripping noise torture has started up again; this is the purported sink, where "somehow" a trickle of water supply then creates these electronic like loud dripping noise, as if I was stuck at the bottom of a deep well. This little stunt began about a month ago and comes and goes as to the degree of annoyance.
Another affronting stunt has been the arrival of various (foreign) colored crumbs that could not of developed from anything I have or did. And they can show up in the strangest of places; behind my ear, under my seat, on my coffee pot (coffee inside the vessel), and even on surfaces that I am not using at the time. One crumb this morning was mysterious enough that I picked it up with a paper towel and disposed of both in the garbage. I didn't want to know.
2135h
More shower-stalking in the next door bathroom; this is at least the third one this evening, and like the last one, it follows when I am reading some interesting story/article that is text only, and no visual web images. Curiously, anytime tonight that I use the vertical scroll to fast, the text "melts" into a blurr, unlike anything I have seen before in Windows.
Another stunt that is playing out tonight is for the perps to suck the blackness and line width consistency from the text that is on my LCD display. This game has reached more frequent levels of late, and is on par with reducing text size as well. There is a "leached out" look to all text that they somehow create, usually in mid-session on the PC. I have no idea what they are doing or what the objective is.
I got my hand whacked at lunchtime earlier today. Nothing visible contacted my hand, though I had the cheese slicer in motion and then there sensation on my left hand without the slicer causing it. I have been through one of these before in the same circumstances; the perps invoke a cut to my hand, my left thumb actually, and then go on to keep it bleeding for a while longer. And this "cut" took at least six weeks for the redness to disappear, and I am sure that was out the the goodness of their sick hearts as they do like me to have red spots on my skin.
But this time, it was two cuts 1/4" apart in two styles; one a direct puncture and the other a scrape revealing a subdermal layer which then bled. And of course I had no bandaids by dint of forward perp planning, and the steptic pencil also "became" problematic in stemming the flow for a time. And since I was needing a new roll of paper towel, why not have me stem the flow with an towel from the old roll (brown center (core) cylinder visible through last paper towel, note), and then again with the new roll? This would be a way to measure the "browness" glow that came off each of the two rolls of paper towel from the cardboard center cylinder against my blood (color).
The perps spend no end of time putting red vehicles in front of green ones, and vice versa, and are now putting red ones in front of brown colored vehicles. It seems that this little bloodletting exercise is an attempt to measure red blood and brown color interaction energetics comparable to that of their vehicle color coordination games. Or, at least this is my interpretation of what the assholes are up to, having seen innumerable brown color games to date since they let me in on them screwing my life over. Sponsoring wars and disasters isn't enough for the perps it seems, and are back to cutting my thumb with action-at-a-distance applications, and now I get the pleasure of watching it heal 10 times slower than normal, all to play red color games again.
2300h
And as a finale for the day, the perps have arranged a fruit fly to dive bomb me in the face, a new fly behavior that they have added since this criminality began almost five years ago.
Time to call it a blog, and deal with getting to bed.
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