Lets Have a Natural Gas Leak

06-26-2019
Just one of those things that "happens" around me; the house across the narrow road (more below) from the vineyard, had an excavator outfit arrive, unload a min-excavator in mid street, and presumably it dug a hole in short order (which they can), say 1 minute, and lo, a loud hissing sound started up. One guy says "its not a gas leak", and the two other guys put the excavator back on the platform truck and take off, the hissing sound duration now 5 minutes. One guy in Hawaii shorts hangs back on the phone. As we worked the vineyard rows close to this scene, he then tells me not to light any cigarettes or flames. A natural gas leak he says. By then I could smell it. This at 1140h. We had about 15 minutes to go to finish the wire dropping on this section of the vineyard. The boss lady could smell it better than I could, and we decided to have lunch then. On the walk to the lunch area, the smell was considerably greater. She took off for lunch, and while all alone, the assholes had me nap for 10 minutes or so. Anyhow, we decided to work somewhere else on the vineyard for the remainder of the day.

It was most curious as to these excavation workers as to how nonchalant they were about breaking the gas line and screwing off. Maybe they do this all the time, I just don't know the business. The gas line was for a residence, and wasn't the nearby mainline which runs to Kelowna.

Earlier in the morning I had covered this same area with the weed eater along the fence line of this same road, and while changing the cutting line, at this same house with the aforementioned gas leak, the owner opens his garage door, and with the vehicle facing outward, starts it up and turns his headlights on me. I decided then and there, "fuck you", I have had enough of the pit lamping and moved elsewhere. As I continued working the fence line I had a clear view of the vehicles coming and going on this road, and this person never bothered to leave their residence. It just seemed that the deal was to fire their headlights at me from across the road and leave it at that. Funny how the timing was so exquisite.

On way home, a minor road rage/driving stunt event; I "usually" get one or so per year. Black truck backs up fast onto a two lane bi-directional thoroughfare, Vancouver St. Hill for locals. I was heading downhill, and to avoid a collision I break hard, though not skidding. He takes his time to get up to speed, all the while I am 6' off his bumper due to his stunt. (I had assumed he would accelerate hard out of doing this stupid "hold up" stunt). But no, he dogs it to hold me up all the more, and I give him the finger, while he is watching me in his side mirror. (Our vehicles had different offsets from the centerline to cause this). He then jams on his brakes, to force me to jam on mine, and then he proceeds forward downhill ahead of me to the roundabout. He takes my usual exit, and I decide to take another one to avoid any more interaction with this nutzo. Like WTF; if you are a hothead and make an error in driving judgement, wouldn't you just accelerate out of your foolishness and proceed to get up to normal traffic speed ASAP? Not this guy; he had to "stay in my way" and made himself out to be annoyed that I was pissed with his stupidity, now attaining a second round. And then watching for me to give me the finger, which then "caused" him to retaliate (sort of) to then jam on his brakes for no other apparent reason. Seems like a fix to me. So what was that bullshit all about, save to put me off my usual homeward route, something the perps like to do with road obstructions, traffic jams etc. I have no idea; time to get a dash cam.

06-27-2019
Another astonishing confluence of coincidences erupted over parcel delivery today. And haven't I mentioned sabotaged parcel delivery before? Countless times. There is a major street construction upheaval (new water lines, storm drains, sewage line) on the block I live at, and they began a week earlier than they said they would only two weeks earlier. And due to some imposed mind-fuck indolence, I didn't get on with ordering a book I had in mind as a gift for a departing co-worker last week. His last day is tomorrow (June 28th), and like, it would be most prudent to get on with such two weeks early. But no, the boss lady had a bad idea that got nixed that cost a week, and so on Sunday, I ordered it. Amazon "guaranteed" delivery June 27, Thursday, and for that I now have to suffer Amazon Prime which I had been studiously avoiding all these years, first month free. (Nothing wrong with it, I just don't need another subscription in my life).

On June 25th I get a notification from Fedex via email, Manage My Delivery. Great idea, offering delivery change options while the parcel is en route, and all the more needed as my residential street is ripped up during the day time. After checking with the boss man, I notify FedEx to send the book parcel to the winery I work for. In the parlance of the delivery business, this is a "re-route". The boss man tells me that FedEx is a good "choice", as they have a regular run, and the brown outfit is rather ornery. (Also my experience). And lo, if FedEx doesn't deliver on the stated day. I check the online status and I see "incorrect address", and "delivery exception". Like WTF; I had this covered. I phone up FedEx and the agent tells me that the re-route didn't go through. Well, excuse me, I have an email notification that the "Delivery Address Has Been Changed" and it gave me the correct new (re-route) address. Also, even if the delivery was attempted at the original address, surely the message would say, "parcel undeliverable", assuming the driver didn't want to get out of his vehicle and walk it one whole house property distance to my residence.

So here we have another wonderful confluence of adverse coincidences;

• my residential street is ripped up for new drains etc, and will be for months, 
• the road works crew starts a week early, 
• the mind-fuck dithering over getting the book ordered much sooner, 
• the re-route instructions to FedEx "somehow" didn't get through despite an email notification to the contrary, and
• the FedEx gang claiming that it was an "incorrect address" (wrong, 2x; could of chosen either one).

Or, perhaps the latter two could be rolled into a possible diversion by FedEx; they just plain decided not (or otherwise failed) to deliver in this region today, hence the agent with the lame-assed excuse that the "re-route didn't go through". Expect me to believe that?

All of the above, to yet again, screw me out of getting a parcel from a normally reliable carrier on their promised delivery date. And why does this relentless sabotage over getting a parcel (any carrier for that matter) on the promised date continue? Why is parcel delivery, an event that is so utterly benign IMHO, of such intense interest to the Psychopathic assholes who have been relentlessly and consistently hounding my ass for 17 years? I have no idea, and to say that I am fed up (no pun intended) is an epic understatement.

Later in the work day I took my vehicle in to the dealership to fix the parking brake, as the button got stuck. Instead of sitting in the waiting room, and having the parade of gangstalkers around, I elected to take their shuttle service to the hospital for a blood test. This turned out to be the new section where I worked for four months last year with the millwork crew.

So instead of waiting at the Ford dealership and getting gangstalked there, why, I ended up waiting in the outpatient lab area, a windowed room that was the former daily construction meeting room. There, the gangstalk parade featured that Fuckwit urologist Dr. C, doing a back and forth outside the waiting room window, his nose up in the air. Why that shit? I thought this PoS prick was long gone from my life, and yet like a whack-a-mole, he keeps coming back. (Said Fuckwit Doctor "somehow" failed to tell me about Tamsulosin, a very effective medication, about the local prostate support group, and most reprehensibly, somehow failed to tell be about the radiotherapy option 80km down the road at one of Canada's best treatment clinics.) 

Last year while working on the same hospital construction job, this same Fuckwit Doctor C also "happened" to be in the coffee shop when I was, and lo, if the shit didn't sidle up beside me in the cafeteria line. Also, that my brother and mother came to visit in 2016 for dinner and then had me telling this same story in detail about this same Fuckwit Doctor C in all his inglorious perfidy cannot be a coincidence either IMHO. My landlords also had adverse experiences with the same Fuckwit Doctor C, and I told me my story, and they theirs. And today, I also "happened" to be telling my work colleagues about Doctor C's travesties Presumably today, Fuckwit Doctor C was on duty to bait me into raising my annoyance level at his very visage, like a Featured Fuckwit. You succeeded assholes, so put this stalking act on ice. So what is it about this PoS that he keeps coming back again like a whack-a-mole?

0-28-2019
A Fedex parcel at my door when I got back from work, and I was annoyed at first as I thought I had got this "re-route" issue done with. But as it "happened" it was a different parcel, the parts for the headphones that self-destructed. Add another one for the above list of Fedex "coincidences" of late.

(In keeping with the headphone sabotage, this Fedex parcel was for the second headphone pair, and at first they attempted to sell me a replacement headband with the parts. But at $78USD, I wrote back, "are you serious..." and they shipped the parts for a third of the headband price. Don't ask me why a steel headband with a fabric spanning portion would be a replacement item).

Fedex finally delivered the gift parcel at 1745h, after I got a call in the morning to say it would be delivered then. We instructed our co-worker gift recipient to pick up his gift directly at the winery where it was delivered. Of all the gifts that I have given in my life, this has been the most fucked up event. Imagine the perp planning for this one, yet again, hitting on all the possible fuck-up variants of this particular event they so much like to arrange, stalk, and sabotage, plus the extra gotcha of an additional (and unexpected) Fedex delivery.

06-30-2019
Sunday, and I worked at a small vineyard of my former employer. I weed whacked 500m of fence line on steep ground, then returned to spray it with herbicide from a back pack sprayer. Quite the job it was too, as the side slope was steep, 120% in places, and egress was tight. This was so the electric bear fence would operate properly when deployed later in the grape growing season. Any kind of object spanning the wire reduces the current, so it needs to be cleared every year.

Evening and what a jerkaround it was; 5 rounds of intense cramps in my legs, usually paired, that is, same muscle on each side. On one occasion, while in full pain cramp, my perp abetting mother phoned and in her usual style, put on the power ditz, needing my street address again, and persistently getting the details wrong. Then the perps mind-fucked me to make me uncertain of my own postal (zip) code, and so I had to read it off my drivers license.  Like WTF; I have only lived here for six years, the longest anywhere. And in keeping with her usual scripted dip-shit routine, she goes on about my pension again. This was abetted by the pension outfit that in this day and age, "needs" to make a manual calculation, for which they promised four weeks ago. Another WTF.

07-01-2019
At least four more rounds of intense leg cramps during night, usually (or more likely in the larger context, unusually) in matched mirror image pairs. That is, same cramp location on the same muscle group on each leg simultaneously. Cramps on my inner lower thighs were particularly debilitating as I could not walk them off. Only in the last few months have the Psychopaths chosen this particular muscle group to target and then invoke intense pain and not allow me to ameliorate it. Well done assholes.

A national holiday today, comparable to July 4 S of the border. Any state sanctioned holiday is another "so what" as far as I am concerned. I have checked out on the concept of being a jingo-istic nationalist since it become abundantly clear that the state (federal government, country of your choice) is nothing but an orchestrated shit show. I consider myself patriotic though, which entails living through the insufferable political fools and their agenda. The notion of "reparations" as discussed of late in the US Congress of late is one such example of pathetic and diversionary foolhardiness. Canada had its own diversionary government sponsored nonsense concluding about three weeks ago, the MMIW (Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women) Royal Commission final report release, which seems to be nothing but a staged racist polemic, and political grandstanding, even attempting to invoke the notion of genocide. And they didn't bother to request the records to find out who might be doing this, all to cost taxpayers some $92 million? Never mind asking as to what victim behaviors might have been contributory. And the Snowboarder-in-Chief says he "accepts the report". For that spineless chicanery he roundly deserves his ass voted out of office this fall. No doubt he is counting on voter amnesia to scoot by that wimpy performance.

And what is it about the act of sitting outside and reading a book that brings on a near nonstop noise parade of HD motorcycles, the most loathed sound of all IMHO? Today would be the fourth time this week where I sat outside toasting in the later afternoon heat and sun, and there is a constant background HD motorcycle noise, at least one per minute. This is often interspersed with the odd emulatory "hot-rod" muffler noise of sedans etc. in closer, say, a block away. Earlier this afternoon, the dude across the lane put on their HD noise to wake me up from an unplanned and short nap in my chair after a short work day. I suppose I should count myself lucky (no such thing) that they weren't cranking on the HD noise all long weekend as they are back from a welding gig somewhere.

Anyhow, time to get this posted for the week, and to pray for no more leg cramps.

Motorcycles and Hotrods

1330h
Motorcycles and Hotrods are two thirds of the loud mufflered vehicle noise contingent I get all day long. The latter third is the ill-maintained mufflers, the hoarse ones that have blossomed in great profusion for the last few years. All to keep that train of slow decay and highly irritating noise going; there are perp benefits to be had all all accounts: noise duration, high annoyance level and constant occurence levels, some five per minute or so. This being a Saturday counts for squat; the noise is created by projected means as it is rare that one actually sees the causal source. The noise will also drop off if I stand on the balcony looking for the causal agents every time. Funny how that happens on a po-dunk secondary arterial street with one lane in each direction that fades into a residential street in two blocks. There are plenty of pictures of the street layout below in past blog postings of the strange vehicular parking configurations to get the idea that I don't live near a freeway and yet I routinely get that kind of noise of high speed constant traffic volume. The particulars of the noise source credibility doesn't bother the perps as much as it did, like much of their stunts and jerkarounds. The sudden "arrival" of crumbs under my fingertips is one such example; all to initiate one's tactile sensory abilities in conjunction with concurrent other perp interests such as color responses to making breakfast, the peanut butter and jam on bread being the most consistent jerkaround scene going. About 95% of the time they jerk me around in the course of making this breakfast item, nearly always to rage-ified levels over this fucking inane jerkaround scene the assholes find so fascinating. All because they cannot figure out by covert and remote means the reaction of one's entire self to these colors, individually and then jointly. And if seven years of overt fuckery continues to draw blanks, why, don't change tactics, just keep the life rape show going. That's from the dunderhead obdurate shadow clowns who started this project 100 years late it would seem, given that they find that ingested plastics and other pollutants are also giving them large amounts of difficulty in remotely detecting one's body energy interactions. I t boggles the mind as to their collective incompentance let alone their rigidity in staying with the same methods, not to mention their callous regard for this and other like TI victims.

There is no going back when one has been boggled as to the perps' reach, (into the minds of all, let alone all the packaging that is so important for them to understand remote energy interactions), their ferocity (I won't get into the more conspiratorial aspects here), their relentlessness (seven years of fucking life rape in my case, and a few thousand other activist TI's), and the breadth of their undertaking (from Vitamin D and sunlight interaction, neutrino and cosmic ray interactions, colors of foods, all body organs and substances, effects of all walking or vehicle surfaces, petroleum product effects/interactions, and of the effects of provenance of all these and more. It is doubtful that I even know 1% of what is going on, I only get the big picture, years late. But I do get a ringside seat to their goings on, the associations, and how this plays out in the so called "news", which from this jaded perspective, seems to anything but. And I do get to see who I thought were reliable and conscientious individuals "happening" to be on the gangstalk and ponder how I missed picking up their malevolent/compromised vibe all these years. Some telltale hints of confliction were missed, but in retrospect I think that if there was anything too idiotic or uncharacteristic at the time the perps backed off afterwards. They haven't been able to fuck with what I thought was normal until the past two years or so, and can now do so at a whim (theirs).

Nothing that I haven't already mentioned in past blog postings in the above musings, just "stirred" by the incessant fucking loud mufflered vehicle noise that is still going on, 3 to 4 per minute, and this irritating ability to somehow get past the earmuffs I nearly always wear. The suggestion, likely from them, is to get higher dampening earmuffs which might be a good one, until I find the same noises getting through "somehow".

And I was reminded earlier today that even wrapping a parcel is a perp fuckable offence. (And even writing about now begets a siren cascade through the earmuffs I am wearing). The past few years of gift giving to my daughter was nearly always the gift card as it obviated the gangstalker scum circulating around me when out doing gift shopping, and that it saved on the imposed agony of wrapping gifts with perp interference at every pull of the scotch tape. And too, it was an acceptable last minute purchase that was always availible and appreciated. The perps don't particularly like me gift giving and have constantly fucked me on acquisition timeliness and gift wrapping. It was the latter that I hadn't engaged in with gift card giving, and was reminded of that today when I did purchase gifts for my daughter's 19th birthday tomorrow, having only acquired them yesterday. But sure enough, the loud mufflered vehicle noise came on when both hands were busy with scotch tape fucking games, straight line scissor cutting fuckery/impairments and the paper folding and tearing fuckery that also "erupted". It is so nice to know that the SS (Surrepticious Sickos) of life rape hadn't forgotten how to fuck someone senseless (aka rage-fied) while gift wrapping after at least three years of not doing so. On with the show of sitting around and doing squat, save being gangstalker bait.

2025h
Back to doing online time; my shoelaces are somehow being ground into the top of my foot even with a padded tongue on my shoes. Go figure; but it might be perp demands for me to take them off my feet.

I did the cleaning job at the car dealership tonight. Thankfully it wasn't as hot today as the last two, though some Pseudosweating was added in for the last 20 minutes of work. "Naturally", the incessant noise of hotrods and motorcycles erupted around the building when performing the vacuum cleaning duties. I either get a profusion of vehicles or noise or both with vacuum cleaner running. And I even got the yellow trucked fire department out again, doing drivebys with that big yellow "Fire Rescue" vehicle with the aluminum finish (silver-grey) door panels on it. Later, they put on an emergency vehicle with lights and siren, but it was the ambulance, and interestingly, I only saw it in reflection on the glass I was cleaning at the time. There was some crumb sabotage tonight where I went to pick up the chad and it "slipped" from my grasp at least twice more before I was allowed to put it in the garbage. There were some similar games with the infernal string that is used for the tags to denote the owner of the keys. I figure there is a geometric progression among these sabotage items that are so frequent; points (crumbs) and lines (string). One day they will work this with three dimensional objects, but I am sure they had all this figured out before they let me in on it. Just more "so what" shit again.

Yesterday they put on six of the Sales males (staff) at the front door to "welcome me", as in ignore me while walking through the thick of them. And no blonde woman as some kind of Favored bait/comparator either, though she did some out later by herself, also making an effort to avoid exchanging pleasantries. Most weird to say the least, this purposeful pretense of pretending I am not there. I don't think the model of being the lowly cleaner's helper applies as they don't strike me as the snobby kind, save one of them. But they did ensure a "peanut butter" (color of his jacket in this case) male customer who was in the lot when I arrived was also in an office some 50 minutes later with his legs wide apart and for me to see his wonderful jacket again. I suppose this was a reprise gangstalking in widely differing lighting and venue conditions. And they made sure he was not behind glass but sitting in the doorway so he could be viewed directly. And they arranged my route to be facing him and walking toward him for some 15' before turning left for the front doors.The perps are highly particular as to whether I see a specific gangstalker through glass, and even types of glass (e.g. safety, double or single pane), as well as directly or even in reflection for the more advanced situations for a regular gangstalker like the Tea Bag Dude.

2250h
Reading interviews on Project Camelot and I am getting dithered. See if you can be allowed to read more as they are interesting. This one is done for the day, such as it has been, with the last hour the only respite from the infernal hot rods, motorcycles and other ill-maintained mufflered vehicles.