COVID19 and all That

03-29-2020
About time an update on targeted harassment and abuse in the times of COVID19 was put out there on the "inter-web" That is to say, the 2019 outbreak of the Corona virus that has the human world in its grip with lockdowns of countries, or otherwise severe restrictions on ordinary freedoms in those societies that normally allow such. Or, ever more restrictions than the ones typical of dictatorships, even the one that seemed to have spawned the Wuhu Flu. And said sponsors of the COVID19 virus, inadvertent or otherwise, even have the World Health Organization (WHO) shilling for them, having put the head honcho in the chair. Said honcho, Dr. Tedros, Director General as of 02-17-2020 was even telling us that closing borders wasn't necessary due to the constrictions of trade.

Tedros said there was no need for measures that “unnecessarily interfere with international travel and trade,” and he specifically said that stopping flights and restricting Chinese travel abroad was “counter-productive” to fighting the global spread of the virus.

Like WTF; the Director General of WHO, supposedly with a health-only mandate, is stepping into the trade arena to find excuses to do the bidding of his masters? If there ever was a shill for the CCP and the "General Ditherer" in all of this, it would be he. Aka, Chief Health Sabotage Officer. Lesson learned; don't dump him and his lulu notion of health care in light of his position, chuck all of the WHO into the gutter of has-beens and the rest of the similarly polluted international organizations; its just too much human politicking to be humanly safe.

On this front (Province of British Columbia), there are shutdowns of all essential businesses, including restaurants, though the "essential" list is extensive. Though I am covered; agricultural workers are deemed essential, along with the hordes of Mexicans and other nationals that have visas to work in agriculture. (And the non-visa ones who arrive for "holidays" during picking season) I resent foreign nationals regularly taking local jobs as one can discern; not only do they get subsidized housing, but nearly all the money they earn goes out of the economy. Call it "beggar thy neighbor economics", though in the US it is at least an order of magnitude worse, and even Trump hasn't put a lid on it as promised. And he could by making E-Verify, verifying employment status online, mandatory. How wimpy to make it optional. Looks like a fix from here, even if it would do more than a physical border wall.

And too, in IT where I formerly worked it is the same but worse. These individuals displace high wage US workers, but they also send the analysis electronically back to India (most often), where another five or so individuals turn it into code that should be doing the right thing for the customer. A 5x job hit for every H1-B is a stretch, but 3x might be a better average. I cannot imagine the huge cultural disparities of understanding that must erupt in these circumstances, but hey, we got a load of Indians in suits (project managers) to cover that off, and if not, the executives of these offshore IT labor operations, some with direct access to high levels of government. So far, now 3.5 years into his mandate, Trump hasn't called these outfits on their H1-B scammery and has yet to limit these visas down to zero, where they should be. If you want MAGA, that would be a start. Cut the guff, fluff and pomp, even if there is a pandemic.

For me in the TI realm, the BC government mandated 2m (6') "socially distancing" in public due to the COVID19 crisis makes for an interesting change up on the gangstalking scene. I now have a legitimate reason to avoid the gangstalking Fuckwits if they get any closer. I can, with legitimate and sanctioned cause, move away from them if they get closer. A rare ace up my sleeve in this near 18 years of Fucking Hell bestowed upon me, this abuse-athon that never ends, with all supposed law enforcement and clinical (and on and on) agencies fully participating. So I get a little Fuck-You distancing out of the deal. Any closer than 2m, and the person is a shill or a fuckwit, or operative.

But of course, that doesn't end stalking by any means. At the grocery store checkout two days ago, with the two-meter marks on the floor to clearly delineate the "social distancing" requirements, why, this Fuckwit woman with a shopping cart arrives between me and the next person waiting in line, two meters away. I look this Fuckwit up and down to see if they are mentally capable/stable, and of course she is looking away like nothing is up, standard gangstalking procedure. And the shopping cart was another tip off as they love to hound me with these things in all their metal wire and whatever else they derive from this particular prop. Even the cashier waved her hands in despair. And as check-outs and all locations and events of financial transactions are one of the most prevalent gangstalking scenes, this made it all the more obvious.

A second gangstalking stunt was a few days earlier at the pharmacy, when I was the calm collected customer and didn't mind that they didn't have the Rx ready on time and came back the next day. (Too, there were two creepy Chinese women stalking me outside, and then appeared to be lead-ahead stalkers, so I split). I finished up at the counter (financial transaction, note) and turned to leave, and was immediately stalked by this Fuckwit about 2m behind me. As I walk fast, it was immediately apparent that this asshole was on me, especially as he suddenly came on me when there was no prior sighting, presumably he was waiting for his cue. I went about 10' and immediately turned into an aisle at full tilt and he did too. No normal shopping person does this. I turned again in another 8' as there was a short bridging aisle between the longer ones, and suddenly this Fuckwit reverses direction, again at full tilt. Again, no one shops like this. So... the first rule of gangstalking violated twice inside of 20 seconds; make it look like you are not stalking the victim but just "happening" to be going the same way. You are busted asshole, even if the COVID19 virus has forced a change in public distancing. Presumably he got the hook to get out of there as I was pissed that the stalking was so obvious.

Though the ambulatory gangstalking pattern has changed some; they have the Fuckwits posted at the very location I wish to shop, doing their bend-overs, a stock stalking posture, often without purchasing anything. loitering there for 5 minutes or more sometimes. More of these than usual, given they have preferred the "tail me" methods previously.

The newly hired "security" at the SOF supermarket is 2 for 2 (so far) has the unerring habit of "happening" to be outside (WTF) facing the E parking lot when I arrive and am about 40' from entering the doors, and then proceeds to turn around and do a "lead ahead" stalking through the 100' of mall aisle before I get to the store entrance. The second time she also "happened" to be loitering at the entrance where the self-checkouts are (financial transactions again), but at least she smiled at me. (And I smiled back).

One could summarize the first week of COVID19 precautions (here) as the ambulatory gangstalkers being less frequent, but the fewer ones are more obvious.

On the vehicular gangstalking front there are fewer vehicles to be sure, though they have the same "habit" of coalescing into trains at the same locations, often to hold me up in making a L hand turn. There are less off the "pull-outs" where they need to get in front of me from side streets, but still the same vehicular gangstalking patterns.

On the harassment front, of things going wrong, getting screwed up, and all physical and kinematic events, keystroke fuckery, etc., nothing has changed. I still swear at them about the same for all their interruptions, perturbations and outright fuckery. The masers, the fuzzy blobs and wisps seems to be especially active of late. Anytime I look at the venetian blinds in my residence, I can be sure that they send one or two fuzzy maser blobs (sometimes intertwining) in front of this linear backdrop. Nothing new, just more of it.

And their all time maser game subject is toilet paper. For the past three years there has always been some masers buzzing and floating around, passing through the toilet paper as I unfurl it, passing through the roll etc. And lo, if we don't have a toilet paper shortage now, purportedly due to the COVID19 viral crisis, Like WTF; the symptoms rarely cause a need for toilet paper, and lo, if we don't have a lamestream media sponsored toilet paper shortage.

At the vineyard while working, and with schools shut down, why the children are out in number. They are also a common gangstalking prop for whatever reason. And lo, if they don't have the girls screaming and yelling senselessly for extended durations. I mean come on, maybe they might see a worm or a spider or something, but that's not worth two minutes of screaming is it? And of course they carry on again, day after day. They are on a 10 acre fenced property so they are safe from any other outside sources that might be a threat. There are some 100m away, so I cannot really see what they are screaming about, but it is very unconvincing screaming or that there is a legitimate reason.

Long time readers might recall an instance I surely noted on this blog about 8-10 years ago when this young girl who was loitering around in a parking lot next to a building, suddenly screamed at length for no reason whatsoever as I passed by some 6' away walking toward the street sidewalk. And she started the screaming as I passed by, not when approaching, most utterly strange, if not uncharacteristically unbalanced. Even her parents called her out on this who were in a vehicle some 20' away. The whole thing was a stitch up from the get-go anyhow, as why was the young girl loitering around except for this fucking abusive stunt to collect her $20?

Which is what children get for these stunts, something I learned from them when they were hanging around my door once, on the other side of the school fence. I asked how much they got paid, and one of the three told me "20 dollars". Another told me "we don't get anything for doing this", and the other, slightly older one, told me they don't get anything in payment. Two of three immediate confirmations ain't bad as this gig goes.

Likely related to child screaming noise is the increase in the number of sirens and emergency vehicles. Again, they so often "happen" when I am passing through door or gateways, entering or exiting my vehicle or changing direction. These are all regular locations of noise, headlight stalking (or pitlamping) or other fuckery like pulling the keys from my hand or forced "forgets" to cause another trip back to the vehicle or house. Check out "Twenty Mile Zone" (3:24) by Dory Previn sometime.

So to take the worldwide COVID19 crisis up a notch, and put it into the perspective of the Psychopathic Confederacy as to what they may gain from all of this. They like people dying (as always, especially in a depleted energetic level), though as always, there are multiple experimentation objectives of any given significant world crippling event, one that is surely timed and arranged by the Thems, aka, TPTB. Too, they just love disruption stunts, from not going to work, regular routines, financial duress, interrupting manufacturing, supply chains, or any such like event where there is an expectation of a certain predictable flow or orderliness. And last but not least, they have a long running interest in air, oxygen and lung activity, the site of the COVID19 virus' most perturbing effects. Just like government, they aren't going to let any good crisis go to waste.

But perhaps they wanted to ratchet up all what they have learned from hounding this TI and all the other TI's, (and covert coverage of naive subjects), and that is to be able to exercise their model of human and other living organisms energetic interactions, this time by ensuring there is greater distance, or "social distance", between their nonconsensual subjects. Yes, this is conjecture, but having being gangstalked for nearly 18 years now by all manner of normals, freaks and wierds, perhaps they have a bio-energy field interaction model, complete with parameters for skin thickness, race, body size, hair color, gender and the rest of human genetic combinations, as well as parameters for clothing fabric, color etc. that they wish to test on the greater populace. And what better test than forcing extra distance between the (unaware) subjects, as distance-dependence is also a big factor in their gangstalking activity. Again, just conjecture, but I am constantly thinking of how their relentless abusive and senseless subjugation of TI's fits into their bigger plans. And they have a plan to be sure, but just what it is and all its physical and energetic dimensions is largely unknown to us. I have speculated on the Many Worlds Theory of Hugh Everett III in the past, though this may not be all of it.

Anyhow, I am hoping no TI's get COVID19, and will call this posting done for now.

Red Eye

03-10-2020
It was 03-06-2020 after a day of vineyard work that I was at the mirror in the bathroom in my residence, plucking some hairs out of my cheeks (the ones that sit under my skin for months and finally pop out), and then leaned down to wash my face. And lo, when I looked up, my L eye was flooded with blood, save my iris. I can see properly with my eye, but the white part (schlera) is red covered. A few hour later, the brighter red turned to a darker, unoxygenated blood, color. I looped it up, and supposedly it is a case of spontaneous subconjunctival hemorrhaging, and will clear up in two weeks.

But now, some four days later, my L eye looks a brighter red, as if the blood is being replenished, and no apparent recovery or recession of the blood coverage. That is, the schlera isn't visible yet. As well, I feel a little ache-y and "creaky", as if a sudden onset of old age has come on. And too, a little less energetic, not quite my usual spark. Needless to say, I haven't got this one figured out yet, if it is hospital worthy (perish the thought), and what this cluster of symptoms means, or if it is related. No doubt another medical stunt brought on my keepers, one that I could of done without.

03-13-2020
Now a week since my subconjunctival hemorrage in my L eye spontaneously erupted, if you believe in such things. Some healing, meaning diminution of redness, but this was a good one, the whole of the white part turning red a week ago. I felt some pressure on my L eye earlier this week, spawning thought conniptions that this might be something else that caused it. Along with the above mentioned stiffness, the odd warm sensation, light pressure on some locations in my skull etc. I suppose the Psychopaths just might be up to their games again. As to whether the eye hemorrhage erupted because they were messing around or by design I do not know or care. Just leave me the fuck alone.

Out two nights ago on a tanning salon run and then a subsequent visit to the SOF supermarket. The prior tanning bed customer for whom I was waiting to finish just had to do two back and forths before she finally exited the salon. She trotted out the door, and ordinarily that would of been it, as that what nearly all customers do; done and gone. But not her; she did a back-and-forth to the tanning bed room and then departed, and lo, just when I thought that feint was enough (why, she might of forgotten something), she returns for a second time to wander 8' in front of me and make like she was looking at the adjacent tanning products. A whole 10 seconds of that, and she headed out again. These back-and-forths are not uncommon on the gangstalking show, and too, the look-at-nothing stunt as well. (IMHO, if she was really interested in the tanning products she would of looked for longer, as there is over a hundred of them. Besides, why didn't she look on her way out the first or second time?). All for her to be seen I suppose, as I was ignoring her after the first exit, and paid little mind on the second exit. And too, she needed some more dwell time in front of me, and maybe to be seen for longer as well.

It is my long time experience that those who have stood where I have stood or walked, (or in reverse, follow me) are often assigned more dwell time, that is, another gangstalking re-visit and hang around me. In this case she would of been lying down on a tanning bed and its acrylic (?) trough/bed, so I suppose she was carrying these residual energies with her that somehow needed (from the Psychopath's perspective) to be correlated to whatever energies I have before I go into the same room and lie and tan on the same tanning bed. I had never seen her before so I have no idea how they might undertake vertical energetic correlations, say, over a month, week, in differing clothes, locations etc. Oh to be a gangstalking victim and endlessly ponder what in the Earth are all these fuckers swarming me for and why the ridiculous re-visits and feints. And also ponder who gets to be selected for how much gangstalking exposure and too, who gets the privilege of deeper interactions of looking at me, speaking with me, and even working with me. Its all too complex and detailed for me to comprehend at times.

Then post-tan to the SOF supermarket, where at 2030h on a Wednesday evening they poured on extra perambulating Fuckwits (gangstalkers) who had the unerring knack of re-appearing where I was about to go, and also in the predictable patterns of in the E, N, S and W areas of the store, as well as the all-out (usually) predictable checkout. And even in the parking lot, as the large bodied dude in plaid just had to walk 6' past my vehicle as I was loading it when the parking lot was near empty. Said Fuckwit also "happened" to be at the same checkout too.

But that wasn't enough checkout stalking action, no sir; this 260lb Fuckwit in baggy shorts (still winter here FFS) was standing at the self-checkout 4' behind me with a keyboard on the scale, making out he was a stranded checkout terminal technician waiting for something/somebody. He was standing there the whole time I was processing my groceries. Then when I was done, a store assistant came by and said something to him and he was done. Strange technical work in the least.

And if the above Fuckwit Whale in shorts wasn't enough why, the checkout stalking action was extended all the more. Another Fuckwit dude came through the self-checkouts from outside, as if he didn't know that one turns R to enter the grocery section and is effectively entering the exit. Said Fuckwit also happens to circle the self-check outs, all for more visibility I assume. Like dude, you just made a 180 degree path at the front of the store; if you had made that R turn on entry (like everyone else) you would of been exactly where you needed to go, assuming you had a genuine store purchase in mind. But no, circling the victim is a standard Fuckwit stalking pattern.

Just when I was distracted by the above Fuckwit, another male Fuckwit also passes straight through the self checkouts, again, effectively entering the store at the exit. And lo, if it wasn't the classic Fuckwit pose (while walking); looking sideways but past me (not directly at me) while walking forward. Who but a Psychopathic Fuckwit does this? I had never seen this ridiculous walking and looking sideways (at nothing, and evading me), act before 04-2002 when all this shit and non-stop abuse-athon erupted, and have now seen it countless times. Its the Fuckwit Classic Perambulating pose. I would forgive these Fuckwits if there was something distracting to look at, say, a hot babe, but there are never any at SOF at that time of day.

Regular readers of a year or two ago might recall the troupe of four or five E. Indians (from India) who paraded in single file through the SOF self-checkout just as I finished paying and held me up from exiting. All of them doing the patented look-away look, save the last one who lost it and put on this goofy smirk.

And its not like any of the above pretended to be fumbling their way into the store for the first time and "accidentally" passed through the self-checkout. No, they all came barrelling through like it was no big deal and this is how one enters the store. Wrong on that; hardly any one does, just ridiculous paid-for gangstalking scum. And when I entered this same SOF for the first time, the entry and self-checkout were in the same respective locations, and upon seeing the self-checkout I realized it was an effective exit and found the entry way on the R side. So there, the folks barrelling through the self-checkout from the store entrance at SOF are gangstalking scum.

And they have even pulled this same shit at least once when I was at the manned checkouts which are up to 40' offset from the same entrance. A Fuckwit entered the store, walks 30' to the L where the manned checkouts are, and "happens" to loiter at the checkout I am at, and then proceeds to "need" to get past me to enter the store. Like WTF stalker fucker; there are at least ten other empty checkouts without barriers that are closer to the entrance and "for some reason" you need to enter the store where I am at. Give me a break.

And we aren't done checkout follies yet. Same SOF, same self-checkouts, three days earlier. I ran out of dishes detergent on Sunday evening and decided to go to SOF  as the usual source (LD) was closed. Another fine confluence of coincidences. I pick up a few extra items, circle back to the produce to pick up a lime and take the route from there to the self-checkout. I never take this route because I go to the produce first, but "happened" to remember to get a lime. (An example of a fortuitous "happen-chance" recall (ahem)). I turn the corner and am about to enter the self-checkout, and lo, my fickle-friend "happens" to be coming by. He doesn't normally shop at SOF, but at the other big store across the street. Anyhow, we chat for 5-10 minutes, and my above mentioned red bloody eye was decidedly topical, and meanwhile the store staff play with an Easter bunny toy that made strange squeaky noises. Eventually we each depart on our separate quests, as he had just finished a day of vineyard pruning and was tired. So I suppose, stalling me for 5-10 minutes next to the self checkouts might have been a prelude for the above triple Fuckwit parade at the same self-checkouts three days later. And has any other TI experienced the absurd but relentless gangstalking and other unconventional interventions and distractions over making financial transactions that I have? I have yet to encounter a TI that reports this, but perhaps I am getting rusty as I don't keep up on all the TI activity that I should.

----

And something completely different; I don't usually dwell on the myriad of unofficial narrative theories, aka, "conspiracy theories", as this is a very big rabbit hole and I feel it would detract from the particular one that deal with, 24/7. For me to delve into this would dilute the focus on detailing the harassment and unconventional abuse-athon I am kept in.

In fact, while being kept in this rabbit hole, I am reluctant to engage in official narrative debunking, as I really don't want to expand my "disbelief system" any more. It was the 9/11 of 2001 events and the gathering skepticism of the official version in about 2005 where I plain didn't want to look into it, thinking that my own story is more than enough of a belief system disruptor. But the Psychopaths kept hammering me to keep looking into it, and after some time, I realized it was indeed a fix of major proportions.

Many readers will have encountered the Apollo moon landings hoax theories, and I am on the fence with this one. One detail that is most peculiar is that there is no moon dust on the gold colored mylar dust boots of the Lunar Lander after it had deployed its retrorockets to gently land on the moon. Another was all the Apollo "firsts"and no casualties. Though a clincher might be the absolutely desultory and evasive interview of the astronauts post moon voyage. As if they went to a funeral rather than the moon, but stick with the given  script for the latter version. There is an equivalent BBC interview somewhere out there too, but I cannot find it, where they cannot agree if they saw stars from the moon FFS.

The possibility of the Apollo spacecraft passing through the radiation of the Van Allen Belt  undamaged was another challenge, though others debate its role. of the So here is a link to The Register on the Van Allen Belts, and it does seem that the radiation is indeed intense and readily damages electronic equipment. So how did the Appollo spacecraft get to the moon again? Or am I being spoofed? Caveat emptor, aka, trust no one.

Onto NSA surveillance, circa 2008. A list of the known technologies to undertake surveillance on computers, (even with an "air gap", i.e. no internet connection) and phones. I like those inserts they can plug into a USB connector, very clever. Burying their technology in those fat ferrite cores on cords is another one. And fake cell phone stations as well. Imagine what they can do now, 12 years since this document was released, let alone the undocumented technologies.

Anyhow, time to get a posting out there in digital-land.

Bank Draft

04-01-2019
I go to the bank to get two bank drafts, and while I couldn't say there was any particular gangstalking silliness inside while at the wicket, the Fuckwits were ready for me before and afterwards. Twice I attempted to get to the parking lot next to the bank building but no, each time it was full. So... I park at the civic lot some 30m away and down the alley and walk to the bank. The person next to me at the wicket in brown and red (both high preference gangstalking colors) just "happened" to be there all the time I was. Bank drafts take a while to do, but it just so happened that this person next to me had an equal (longer actually) engagement time with her bank teller too. When all done, I exit the bank and head back to my vehicle, down the lane. Lo, if the banking parking lot wasn't empty now, and there certainly wasn't enough customers transiting out to drive all the parked vehicles away. Anyhow, I enter the lane, and lo, if a vehicle some 30m away doesn't pull away from the curb and drive toward me (headlights on of course, aka pitlamping) and past me. Then another, which was parked behind it, some 20 seconds later. Then another, pulling away from behind the second vehicle, with about the same timing. Like WTF; this is a back alley and here it is busier than I have ever known, and with these three vehicles lined up and leaving one after another. I get to my vehicle, enter the lane, and lo, if they aren't there, backed up in front of me because of a L turning vehicle waiting for a whole lot of uncharacteristic crossing traffic.

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

04-03-2019
A drive to the big city of Kelowna to visit the doctors office for the planned procedure. As it turns out, by dint of a fuck-up not of my making, that the planned the date of the procedure is April 15, a Monday. I wanted it to be early May owing to timing of my work commitments, that is, vineyard work. But somehow, due to some lame excuse of the office assistant on the phone in January, it became April because she didn't have access to May at that time. And "somehow" I missed the significance of April 15 then.

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

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

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

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

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

04-04-2019
My attempts at file synchronizing from the main PC to a handheld digital music player with Sync Toy. Why does this end up being a consecrated hassle all the time? The Psychopaths derive no end of harassment mileage over the same file "somehow" becoming different when it is copied elsewhere. That they fucked Sync Toy into synchronizing (files always the same in both locations) when it was set up to echo (master-slave) cost me no end of grief to find out the portable audio player was getting new files that I thought were purged.  Now the file pair association had to be re-written and "somehow" it isn't working when all seems just right. WTF? But the internet scuttlebutt is that Snyc Toy is a POS, and so I attempted to use robocopy in the command line. That is short for "robust copy", but it too failed for no seeming reason and so I restarted it from where it left off and it finished normally. And I am hardly done, only artists A to C, and that was a 40 minutes of run time. Well done MS; one of the most fundamental personal data needs nowadays and you still cannot get it together. Pathetic, or else willfully pathetic.

04-12-2019
L shoulder ache; started on a Wednesday, so I cannot legitimately blame it on yoga, which was Monday. As it was, yoga was more lame assed with the substitute instructor anyhow. The shoulder pain was as if I was over-using my L arm in the night for throwing baseball pitches, as if there was a night time hardball practice. All the more curious that I am R handed, and as far as I know there were no night time events of any kind, unconventional or conventional. Other recent aches of no known source have been in my L foot, as if it was torqued. This latter ailment has gone on for four weeks now with some minor swelling. I have been wearing the most stiffest boots possible these past 8 weeks, mountaineering boots, needed for the snowy conditions in the vineyard. Even while wearing them, the assholes wrenched my L ankle over a couple of times to aggravate the pain that they had already introduced by this mysterious means. Though with the mountaineering boots they really couldn't pull any major ankle wrenching. As to what all this is about I don't know, but foot wrenching and consequent pain has been a long running perp fuckery theme. In this case, the pain came before the foot wrenching, though as mentioned, they didn't (or couldn't) make this a reasonable rationale as to why the ankle pain is there, or why it has gone on for so long.

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

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

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

04-14-2019
The last two weeks of vineyard work have been tying down canes to the fruiting wire, and also nattering to my colleague, a pleasant young blonde woman I had met a few years before. All quite different to have a non-stop natterer next to me, but we do have some common interests. And she has an interest in the unconventional and esoteric, and has given me reason to re-read "The Many Worlds of Hugh Everett" and his fundamental quantum wave theory. She also mentioned something to the effect that this theory, or more accurately, the many dimensions theory, has an component of multiplicity relating to the combinations of things (or repeatable events), which is consistent with the Psychopaths needing to screw me around so to ensure that all systematic actions get sabotaged in some way so that they do go out of order. In other words, fitting with their insane ongoing Fuckover show so that I cannot be allowed to do anything consistenly and/or efficiently. The constant need of the perps to sabotage every fucking thing going, and not permitting consistency. To which I say, I don't care, leave me the fuck out of it, and the fuck alone. I have been abused enough at their hands for multiple lifetimes and I don't need another one as I will have no guarantee it will be any better than this one, given their malevolent agenda and the fact that they stick to me like a Tar-baby From Hell.

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

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

Christmas Time Catch Up

12-17-2018 [now 01-2019 so I can now get access on my desktop PC]

[In Victoria BC, at the First Feral Family house] I see I cannot get to my TIWorld blog (Blogspot) from here as Google has decided to put an intervening web page to prevent my access to my own blog. Hence no postings for four weeks until I get back to my residence and use the desktop PC there. Well done Google, or whoever is jerking your chain. The perps so like to interrupt regular events, and for the most part I posted a blog once a week. So perhaps this disruption is a stunt they are putting on for my readership, or at least, for regular readers.

12-15-2018

A hair cut from a young woman trainee from Swift Current, Saskatchewan. She grew up there, and while this may seem a bit obscure, it was the location of my father's first geology job in Canada, emigrating from the UK after WWII and his subsequent training at Cambridge University and first coal geology jobs with the National Coal Board. I don't know exactly why he emigrated to Canada, and doubtless became part of the (still very active) oil and gas surveys in Swift Current. I believe my parents spent some two years there, (circa 1949-53) though I suspect he might of been a fish out water there as his training had been in coal geology. He later got his PhD in the geology at McGill in 1959, researching the Sukunka region of BC, which later became the Tumbler Ridge coal mine in the 1980's. 

It is just plain curious that these geographic "experiencers" of my family's past in this case, keep coming around. In this case it was this woman cutting my hair and all the proximity and touching that would entail. That she was cute didn't hurt either.

This "geographic experiencing" has also been noted when my ex, daughter, and mother made a vacation trip to Ottawa, Montreal, NYC and Washington DC about five years ago. My mother has no interest in any of those cities, and knows no one there, and to my knowledge, only lived in Montreal for my father's McGill studies. Said city was the main location of my "lost years", where it seems my recall was wiped, as I was beginning to form memories on my first arrival there in 1956. (Born in 1954). And for the record, McGill was the location of Dr. Ewen Cameron's criminal-level psychiatric atrocities that were CIA and Government of Canada sponsored, and were in full operation from 1952 to 1964. And he did research on children as well, including the Duplessis Orphans atrocities, yet to be recognized by the Government of Canada, even if their grovelling apologies over the equally appalling (and criminal) Indian Residential Schools gets news play every few months, now at least four years running. The Duplessis Orphans made a formal complaint to the UN, claiming that the Government of Canada is obstructing recognition and compensation. I don't know how that it going.

My daughter has no interest or connection in those above four cities, and my ex has an apparent friend, though I don't know who it is even if married to the ex for 20 years. A long way of saying that I have no idea as to why any of them made this trip. Ottawa and environs was also a site of military research of children in the 1950's, though I have no personal recollection of being there. I just find it interesting that family members have made this, and many other trips to my former geographic residence or travel locations, across Canada and the US. Though their 2018 trip to Iceland seemed more like a vacation visit, as none of them have been there before. Long past blogs (about 2008) have mentioned other First Feral Family trips that have effectively retraced my trips to Europe that I made in 1976; France, Italy, Spain, Germany. They are too much of a coincidence IMHO.

12-17-2018

I drove from Penticton to Victoria, a Monday, and fairly uneventful, along with minimal road traffic. I even got to the Twassen ferry terminal in time to catch the 1500h sailing with minimal wait, and more importantly, minimal angst as to whether I would get on. A rare fortunate confluence of timing, as usually the perps like to hang me out to dry at the ferry terminals and keep me in angst mode as to whether I will get on the next sailing. In the past there has been irregular loading, (a "mistake"), where later traffic got on first, leaving me out to hang for another two hours after waiting an hour.

A return to the Gangstalking Capital of Canada, Victoria, BC, at least temporarily, and once on the PC at the First Feral Family house, and despite my best efforts, the consecrated password hassle all over again. I put my handwritten passwords, placed them in my briefcase, and lo, if these papers just didn't "disappear" somehow, and leave me bereft of my passwords. So when one logs on from a different PC in a different city, why, the Blogspot application (and many others) asks for a password. And of course Blogspot is set up so one rarely uses a password from my residence, which is why I needed the written list. But as is "disappeared", as in was teleported away, (nothing too unusual for me in this kept state, though not common nowadays), I had to get a new Google password.

This summer I had some papers disappear from my briefcase, and I know unequivocally that I put them in there, having just been handed them from the medical assistant in Bellevue, WA. I drove home without any use of my briefcase, and lo, they were gone when I got home. Well done assholes, and while I haven't had many blatant teleportation stunts these last few years, it was very common in the extreme Fuckover days of 2002-03.

A few weeks ago, I "discovered" my missing drill bits were in my residence. I was sure that my co-worker stole them, as only he had the specific knowledge that permitted them to be stolen in two lifts four weeks apart. Well as it "turns out", they were all there together at my residence with the rest of my drilling accessories. Either they got teleported there, or else I was given a massive mind fuck dose, twice. I don't forget that stuff, and I suspect it was a teleported theft at the time.

12-18-2018

Here in the Gangstalking Capital of Canada at the second supermarket in two days, because my  doddering perp abetting mother "just" needed to go out grocery shopping. The gangstalkers were totally in on it, with these Fuckwits dodging between us, around us and even a threesome swarm came at me from behind. Insane.

12-19-2018

I went to the federal government bureaucrat office to sort out some pension matters; what an exercise in futility. Then some downtown shopping, and lo, the Fuckwits move in. I went to LL to get a Christmas gift certificate for my undeserving daughter, and they had a freaking 6' ladder parked in the middle of the aisle next to the cash desk. (Ladders, for whatever reason, are an abiding gangstalking prop, and are often on vehicles at consderable greater frequency since all this shit came down. Talk about obvious stalking set ups.

Next door, they hounded my ass at MEC as well. I was allowed 30 seconds to look at some shirts when two Fuckwits arrived either side of  me within 20 seconds of each other. That there was hardly anyone else in the store made it all the more obvious.

12-20-2018

A walk outside with my farm worker friend, and in keeping with last year's fuckery, yet again I was caught out with the wrong shoes -again. I brought down my hiking boots, and when making arrangements over the phone, I was led to believe that it was a city walk, but it was on the beach with the high tide and gathering storm. It just fucking pisses me off that I get caught out like this, and all the more so when I was prepared. And of course I was fucked out of taking my boots as preemptive measure. The perps get no end of Fuckover mileage out of thwarting one's measures to prevent the fuckery that they have habituated the victim with. And too, they like to fuck one's shoes, and walking rough ground with the wrong ones is just the excuse they need (usually). Though they didn't pull this latter stunt, but made sure I was plenty of worried about it all the while.

As it "happened" this gathering storm took out over 750,000 power utility customers on Vancouver Island and Vancouver in the afternoon and evening, and was one of the most destructive storms in the last 20 years. Some customers didn't get power back until the New Year, even if they did bring in repair crews from other provinces. Some 80% of Vancouver Island was without power that afternoon, evening and night, and "somehow" the area of the First Feral Family house wasn't affected, and not even a flickering of the lights. Well done assholes.

12-22-2018

My perp abetting mother is starting up the "in the way" obstruction fuckery again- just started up today after being here after 5 days at the First Feral Family house. She is also taking showers ahead of me in the am; she never takes showers, always baths. All part of the "parallel activity" stalking as I see it.

Her place is a mess; all manner of food debris on the floor; the cleaners come tomorrow. I could not stand it, and cleaned some of the kitchen floor and the brown mat. I cleaned off the sticky red colored jam mess on the floor that I somehow missed and stepped into at about 1200h. By 1600h she had messed up the same area of floor, with jam, red of course. Not bad for a doddering 94 y.o., even if she has abetted  the perps since I was born (it seems). That takes skill to coordinate that, and no, there was no transit path of the jam to be stored in the cupboards involved as the jam remains on the dining room table. I bought a 1.5" drywall spatula to chisel the compressed food off the floor in aid of cleaning it.

I had to make a trip to the HD big box store to get a drywall spatula, and suffer the fucking gangstalking that had intensified for my first Victoria visitation since early 2018,. And the visit to HD was a set up in advance, so to get me royally infuriated beforehand. I must of spent at least 90 infuriated minutes attempting to print a two page Excel spread sheet, that somehow would not print all the columns when there was plenty of room to do so. A long standing piss off with this software, which for  its complexity, is very good. But printing is something else, with a dotted line running down the page as an imposed printing demarcation that cannot be moved. As to why they haven't fixed this sadistic "feature" in the 20 years I have used Excel I have no idea. And of course the perps know, and relentlessly fuck me around over this at length, also taking advantage of the fact that I am an infrequent Excel user nowadays. And within 20 seconds of finally getting the problem solved, why, my perp abetting mother "happens" to dodder up the stairs and puts on the chat act. Then, after being sufficiently wound up, I went to HD. Well done assholes.

12-23-2018

The Filipino house cleaners came today. They come every two weeks, which isn't sufficient for my mother's ability to make a mess, and all the worse in the last few years. And she cannot see it now. With additional persons in the house, my perp-abetting mother was

doing her now-characteristic obstructing "get in the way" games. And the perps fuck my head to thwart preemptive measures to deal with this game.

Shopping, kind of the same again; extra obvious stalkers preceding me, getting out of their parked vehicle 10 seconds ahead of me and heading to the same store.. Fuckwits blocking egress in the CT store, presumably to re-route me when on a straight line path to the checkout.

The dishwasher suddenly quit working, and have we done this before, messing with water effluent, aka drain water? Too many times to count... This time my perp-abetting mother was helping me siphon water from the bottom of the dishwasher, both of us getting effluent water contact. This was preceded by me attempting to clean the drain in the bathroom downstairs, where the siphon tube "happened" to  be stored in the same cabinet where I had to disconnect the lever operated stopper.

During this, the ex arrived for a Christmas present drop off while I was in the  middle of dissecting the dishwasher issue. Some internet information, put up by the manufacturer, was very helpful, and it seemed to be a drain pump. After a further half hour of researching where to get the part, I determined that it could be had locally, and I made a trip to get it. All in all, the  amount of time expended in lying on the floor in fixing the dishwasher wasn't too lengthy, and nor did my mother attempt to obstruct progress. Yes, it did get fixed, and I have never fixed one before, or even looked under the hood as it were. The old drain pump seemed to be fine, but as the new one worked, that was the end of it.

What is it about this fucking town, or is it the FFF house, where they hack my recall so relentlessly? Three trips down the stairs and back to get my act together to get out the door; one for keys, one for a coat, and again for my shopping list? Fucking outrageous, all these obstructions when intending to do what I decided. There is something the Psychopaths just love about dithering the shit out of me to ensure there is more time expended between decision (setting intention) and acting on it. And too, mentioned many times, though it "happens" nearly every time, they dither the shit out of me when I am to set off in the vehicle to got to work or get something.

12-28-2018

Hard to believe in this Christmas schtick with the hounds of hell on one's ass, as they have been for over 17 years. And all the more when staying in the house of the First Feral Family, my perp abetting mother being the only one here. All these games of hers, all of which developed in short order after the assholes first outed themselves going berserk/overt  in 04-2002. The above mentioned obstruction games and hand waving in front of  her face are two behaviors that seem to fit the perp's purposes. The former being one of those "intention prevention" stunts that have long plagued me, jumping by at least one order of magnitude since the aforementioned date of harassment onset.

And too, I "forgot" my perp abetting mother's new method of sneezing where she brings a totally unwarranted vocal component into it. She never, ever, did this before, and is now another of her "bullshit mixture" of sudden and inexplicable behavior changes. I have been reminded of this "habit" in the last five days or so. Funny how it suddenly came on now.

Today, my perp-abetting mother's vocal-augmented sneezes and coughs have been exquisitely timed to whenever I shift thoughts, from say, a planted notion that I reject, to get back to what I had been thinking about beforehand. Yet again, attention shifting (by me presumably), gets noise-stalked.

And when out n the public domain, the fucking gangstalking has increased too; specifically at the Asian food market nearby. It is a local chain of supermarkets, beginning with "Family" and is owned by Asians, who frequent it as well. And it has been mentioned in past blogs that Asians are one of the most persistent gangstalking races, and here again they made their point. Flowing and circling around me, and even one female Fuckwit, while I was 80% along an empty aisle, comes walking along and then stops 6' from me and stares at her list. And stares some more, pretending to be oblivious to looking like an utterly stupid  gangstalking shit. (Instead of DWA (Driving while Asian), it was SWA, (Stalking While Asian), and just as deranged and unpredictable). I was waiting for her to move as I wanted to get past her, but as she was in "just stand there" mode (pretending to be oblivious), I took off the other direction and went down the adjacent aisle, as this wretched Asian stalker was blocking me. More of the"intention prevention" fuckery it would seem, just an Asian woman doing the shit work instead of my perp abetting mother.

And as part of the flowing and obstructing aisles, the Asian gangstalkers put me off my intended beat to obtain the groceries on my list, item after item, in above mentioned supermarket. Another trick of the perps, in stores that I am not wholly familiar with, is to wipe me out from remembering where items are, and when I look at the aisle signs, they fuck me some more by either not "seeing" the sign, else removing it as they have been known to do in the past. (Though nowadays, it is mostly the former now that they have perfected their techniques these past 17 years of abuse). This too will re-direct me to further reaches of the store, an opportunity they can only exploit while visiting various supermarkets in the FFF in the Gangstalking Capital  of Canada, Victoria, BC. That is, four local supermarkets aren't wholly familiar to me, so I end up getting jerked around in finding items. (Trip total was five, plus two specialty grocers).

And to finish the stalking job off in style at the supermarket, the assholes choked down the available cashiers and flooded them with extra stalkers. This particular supermarket always has adequate cashiers on hand, and "somehow" they didn't for today's extra heavy gangstalking coverage.

And the Fuckwit who was right behind me at the checkout, and in the usual  fashion of moving in on me before I had departed, and who also came with his plastic bag he just had to flip out in front of me, just "happened" to tail me in his vehicle to the adjacent supermarket, get out of his vehicle, and again flip a same colored plastic bag in mid-parking lot, and then precede me into the second supermarket. (There were two items that I could not get at the first supermarket, so I went to the second one). Another fine coincidence. That this Fuckwit didn't again "show up" in the aisles surprised me somewhat, as they usually like to cover me outside, inside (front and back and each side of the store), at the checkout and outside again. At the second supermarket, the Psychopaths at least had the grace  to flood the self-checkout (which I used) after I began using it, instead of before. Though they weren't done yet; "somehow"  the self checkout malfunctioned and I needed the cashier's help, her intervention with a pass card, to complete the transaction at my side. (After she bumped into me). And just what is it about making a transaction that the perp's go so insane about? They have been beating on this for over 17 years of this abuse-athon, and haven't let up. Imagine how much effort they have devoted  to all this in the preceding 47 years  when they were in covert (to me) mode. And just imagine how much effort they have devoted hounding humans since millennia over the same deed, long before there was even a currency, EMF pollution,or display screens.

01-02-2019

A royal gangstalk at the supermarket today (another unfamiliar one), with my perp-abetting mother, putting on her doddering and fumbling best. A five way clusterfuck  in the bread section, the second section with the packaged bread, (with two prior passes through the first fresh bread and pastries section) turned into an 8 way clusterfuck. Unbelievable, all these Fuckwit parties arriving in the regular aisle where the second-rate bread was kept, our last stop before the checkout. And my mother putting on her doddering and indecisive best.

But the Psychopaths weren't done yet; when the Fuckwits took their time to finally clear, they added one final stunt, that is, a confusion of intention stunt, when my perp abetting mother turned 180 degrees to head for the checkout, and one remaining Fuckwit remained in the way and made out that she didn't know which way we were headed. Just what is it about these ambulatory games where everyone pretends not to know where the other is going, and has a mutual confusion confluence as to what the other's intentions are? I don't even have a succinct name for this game, but it suddenly became very frequent since this abuse-athon started when the perps first went berserk/overt in 04-2002.

01-03-2019

Out shopping again, and the gangstalking Fuckwits were up my ass at three stores, even if they were sparsely populated in the early morning. I had taken my ADD meds about an hour earlier, and I suspect they wanted to get me at this stage. This trip would be the first time in this city that I have taken these meds since 2002, so perhaps the Psychopaths found this too irresistible to leave me alone.

01-06-2019

My mother pulled a fuckup event this afternoon; she said there was a play at a local church and she had arranged to meet a friend there. But as it "happened" it was only for an audition. Said friend came back to her place, and given her propensity to yack, it made for a four hour hole in the afternoon. Just what the perps get from me listening to two biddies bantering ad nauseum (about nothing interesting) is beyond me, but they have been pulling this shit every annual Christmas visit for six years. It must me something about keeping me in place while listening to human speech for extended duration devoid of information content.

I started a project (always a high Fuckover event) at the First Feral Family house, installing a FM aerial (the one I brought from my place); I was getting hit with at least five fuckups a minute, and was highly infuriated at every mental and counterproductive incursion. They even had me put a 1/8" drill hole in the wrong spot when I had a plan and measured it out which became the highlight of this infuriation barrage that never stopped for the whole time I was on this project.

The gangstalk show at HD became more than obvious when I was looking for a particular power tool; on an earlier visit I couldn't "find" it and so this time, a Fuckwit dressed in brown comes around for a second pass just when I decided I would purchase one. Upon seeing this Fuckwit coming at me again, I decided "fuck you" and departed without it. This is how these games go; incremental exercise in upping the ante as to a purchase (in this case). This would be an instance of the Pychopaths stalking me at the moment of decision and then interfering with executing it. Have I not long complained that they stalk my ass all the more when I make a decision, and also they like to thwart my intentions? In this case it was a two-fer.

Onto winter clothing for outside work; the design of parkas and ski jackets are getting way too short, especially for winter vineyard work where one is pruning and bending over all the time. I have sent a few back over the years for that very reason. My interest in all this was resurrected after my two year old TNF ski jacket had mysteriously began to break up, in that the fabric was splitting due to no perceivable wear or other cause. (Getting the right sized winter work coat has been a long running jerkaround; this would be the fifth such garment in six years, returns not included). So.... I see online one called a "parka" and it was on sale. I check it out on various sites, suspecting that it is in fact long enough, and then put it in my cart on a local outdoors coop called MEC. I check out more videos, and NONE of them show how long the parka is on them. (One infuriating stunt is to display the garment arms bent, so I cannot compare the arm length to total garment length). For crissakes; the most essential spec for me, and I get skunked. I give up, so I take a chance on it, order it, and lo, if the wretched outdoor coop has partially shut their system down and left me hanging as to whether it got ordered or not. Tomorrow, the cart will be empty, and who knows if it will be available at that sale price.

The next morning I check my email, and it seems the order did go through, but the assholes weren't done yet. As it "happened" two days later, I get an email indicating that they didn't have it in stock, like they indicated, and cancelled the item. I asked them to cancel the whole order, but they said the remaining item was already packed. Nice of them to ask. As it "happened", they delayed the order arrival at the store, and hung me out to force yet another trip in that neighborhood.

Then as it "happened" the same parka was available online from MEC the day after they indicated they didn't have any. Seemingly they didn't bother to update their inventory after getting it wrong. Two days later I drive home (01-11-2019) and see the same jacket and size is online, and so I order it. The next day they send me a message that they shipped it. Like WTF; how many times do they need to jerk me over on parkas (e.g. peculiar and premature wear), as well as ordering them? I expended at least ten hours over four days researching parkas and ski jackets for their qualities and fit.

01-09-2019

On this three week junket to the First Feral Family house over Christmas, the assholes are 3 for 3 for screwing up my online orders. There was the above mentioned fuckery over the parka, and the remaining two.

My perp abetting mother has a totally boneheaded and unsafe method of using an oversized steamer insert when cooking. She agreed to getting an appropriate sized (and safe) steamer insert. The cookware order I made on her behalf went two rounds with two items, and its replacement, were both discontinued. And note, this was only determined after a two week wait when nothing happened, so I inquired, and it was only then I was informed that the item was discontinued. A replacement item of the same size was suggested by me, (as seen on a current web page of the manufacturer), and lo, it too was discontinued after another round of emails. So I cancelled the order, and in response they indicate they would reverse the charges. Like WTF; charging for an item that was discontinued and to boot they were withholding informing me about it.

The third online order over this visit to the FFF house was a replacement lamp socket kit for the overhead fan hood unit which I ordered through a Canadian parts site and was said to be shipped two weeks ago. I checked, and I now see it comes from NY state via UPS, and seemingly it got hung up for a customs inspection and the rest of that border crossing delay shit that routinely goes down. The next day, the postman, not UPS, delivered the parcel and asks for an additional $20 fee for crossing the border.

Another long standing need of the perps is to have me attend to the backyard compost pile, made of the lawn cuttings and raked leaves. Yet again, in my absence, nothing got done; it wasn't turned, and nor was any of last year's sifted compost utilized as I was assured it would be. This job had a number of delays over the three weeks I was there; weather, sticky wet soil, shoppings, the FM aerial intallation and other commitments. All in keeping with extending this particular job, as the Psychopaths so much prefer. And as usual when doing this job over at least six events, the yapping dog starts up, the next door grand kids play and yell, the hot rods and other loud mufflered vehicle travel to and fro, and most obviously, the overhead aircraft start circling. In this latter case, it is the single engine aircraft which somehow manage to "find" this location in suburbia and loiter for at least 20 minutes. And in addition, the passenger helicopters transit overhead, in an apparent re-direction of their usual route, as I have come to know from other work sites. They too seem to "find" me. No low flying AWACS aircraft this time, which would be exceptional as Canada does not own any, though that anomaly didn't stop them on one occasion. And too, the very high altitude STRATCOM (formerly SAC) aircraft noise is apparent as a continual component of the aircraft (noise) coverage. Bring on the noise, as the victim is slinging compost, a long running Psychopathic obsession that has been most obvious.

More red splatter clean up the past few days, same color as jam, but it was cranberry sauce, my mother making more up. She even got it 6' up the wall for crissakes.

Two years ago it was a outbreak of orange food splatter; she blew up a yam in the microwave, which I cleaned up and everywhere else she smeared it, and seemed not to see.  Then two days later she managed to splatter the same, now mashed and kept on a dish in the fridge, all over the kitchen counter, and again, seemed largely unaware of it. Just for the record, I cannot stand a mess, particularly in the kitchen, and what kind of family do I get stiffed with? Not only perp abetting quislings (consequently named as the FFF, per above), but the messiest assholes going, and worse yet, making out that they are oblivious to it. Even if they step into sticky jam on the floor, which IMHO, is the absolute worst situation, as it is tantamount to mess re-distribution.

01-11-2019
An uneventful drive from Victoria to Penticton, excepting the loaded logging truck looming from the dense fog, coming into my lane from the adjacent pull out. That it had no visible lights as seen from the rear didn't help, but as this dark mass was moving, I figured it out in time. Spectacular timing that, but at least the L lane wasn't occupied, and the road was wet, not icy. And lo, if this event event bring on a parallel stunt on the other side of Penask Summit, when in the (less dense) fog, and a loaded logging truck was sitting in a pull out, beside an adjacent SUV, why, the SUV pulls out and again with the identical timing of getting in my way. Kind of like; lets first do a test with a loaded logging truck to pull in front of me, and then again (about 20 minutes later), with a parked passenger vehicle (beside a logging truck) as its surrogate. Well done assholes.

And speaking of fog, why is it the perps need to nail me in the eyeballs with a maser that persists for a very annoying ten seconds or so? This blackish ball just comes from the fog, and they pulled this shit in the identical circumstances and timing (about 20 seconds into the dense fog) last year.

And what is it about me looking after others' houses that so interests the perps? My brother was in Thailand while in Victoria, so I would look after his place twice a week. I arrive back in Penticton the very day my landlord departed for 8 weeks in Mexico, and I am looking after their place until early March. I looked after the latter's place, next door, for four weeks last year.

Enough for the while, and to assure my readers that I am still in play.