Happy Hindering New Year

01-01-2014
No year is new with the same affronts, stunts, jerkarounds, arranged adversities and obstructions as a TI. Departing this mortal plane would be the most welcome change I can imagine. But instead, it is one continuous stream of abuse of an unconventional kind, and the Pause button is rarely used (2x, each a few hours), and End-of-Psychopathic-Fuckover deployment is surely years away if the planted ideations are anything to go by. The planted BS has me getting married to whomever the operative will be, though there has been a constant theme (10+ years) about one particular female of nationwide repute that I won't get into for now. And hardly an hour goes by when they don't plant notions of working in the northern Alberta oil-patch and adjusting to a cold clime, the landscape and the male mentality in blue collar-land. How I would get there from a job in vineyard work in the Okanagan Valley of British Columbia is a considerable mystery, but it was drawn to my attention that a 5 year-ago change of unemployment benefits (in Canada) will not be paid if one refuses to relocate. Got it. Never mind that I have applied a dozen times prior to 2012 for oilpatch jobs and never once got a response. (The online questions, go like; "like to work outside?", "can you lift 50lb" etc.) Every so often I get someone telling me about such work being "dangerous and dirty" or else overhear the male job banter about Alberta jobs etc. Go fuck yourselves, which is my answer to any kind of planning to perturb the meagre status quo.

My perp abetting mother started the so-called New Year by hindering me in the kitchen again, artfully dithering in front of the fridge when I wanted to get there, then again at a cupboard, and and again. Not bad for a dipshit act that has unerring knack of obstruction timing every fucking morning.

And a spotty Global TV show last night, bringing in the New Year. A certain performer was on, and she sang well, but all decked out in black leather, with her oversized leather patterned jacket with high shoulder pads was positively Reptilian. Her blue dyed flat-bob hairstyle didn't do much for me either. Perhaps I have seen Reptilians in my recall-blanked years and harbor psychic stress and armoring from meeting such creatures in the flesh, so to speak. There has been plenty of other alien simulations in the ongoing freak show, and over the past year, the Stick-men have featured prominently as Shaw TV's (owners of Global TV here) advertising, (may need to look at other Shaw links as it will change) including last night. I had never heard of the Stick Men (and here) until seeing a TV show that reviewed paranormal claims,  and here these things were on a surveillance video tape. My exposure to many differing alien sites and stories had never revealed the Stick Men until 02-2013. But as Shaw Cable is a prominent gangstalking commercial operation (blue trades vans and boom trucks out, even on Sundays), why should I be surprised? And too, as the predominant internet providers, and given the color of the cable and the composition of the lines and all things else related to perp fuckery, surely they must be a perp operation.

And what is with the extra ear-ringing today? I just want to stop it but I cannot. And if I plug my ears, why, an electronic cheeping chatter becomes very evident and doesn't let up.

I drove my in-town brother and his sort-of Thai girlfriend to the airport tonight. He even added some of his garage sale booty into the vehicle and wanted me to put it into the crawl space of the First Feral Family house. Some of it was these mini-totem poles in wood, a collectable in these here parts, and other was his silver booty he collects and sells as scrap. No doubt it was some kind of perp arrangement, as it is highly unlikely he would trust me to his booty while heading off to Thailand for a month. And I would be gone by the time he got back. Way too trusting for him, to be sure. That some of it ended up beside some of my belongings in the same crawl space didn't go unnoticed.

When I got back from dropping them off, my perp-abetting mother locked the house door on me, the one that enters onto a closed garage. There was no need to lock as the garage door was locked. It has two different keys, which is usually no problem, as both are on the key chain for the vehicle. And lo, if one of them wasn't now missing, and I had to ring the door bell a number of times as her deaf act had to play out. I cannot count the number of times she has pulled this fucking act, and the fucking jerkaround to get her attention from door poundings and doorbell ringings. One time she locked two back doors on me when she knew I was outside gardening. Which is part of a major perp stunt theme, having locks not work, or otherwise get thwarted in entering a building. It is not only a delay act to keep me at a doorway for longer, and not just an infuriation tactic. There is something energetically/psychically intrinsic about opening a lock, or a door, that the perps need to find out, and I seem to be the Prime Fuckover Victim for this particular non-consensual research sub-objective.

This same expectation-of-action fuckery of unexpected locked doors is also manifested by the countless times mouse clicks and even physical buttons that don't work at first, and then do. It doesn't matter who's computer, and can be extended to that all-time blunder-fingers platform, touch screen phones.

I mentioned to my brother on the way to the airport, after witnessing an example, of a Fuckwit crossing in front of me while stopped at a traffic light who couldn't make a L turn without cutting the corner of the opposite L lane (no vehicle there) by 2'. I said the Victoria drivers have suddenly got the "Penticton Driving Disease", where they now regularly do this, progressively getting more evident over 2012 and 2013. This particular arranged driving "habit" never happened in Victoria with any noticeable regularity from 2002 to 12-2011 while here, though plenty of other extra-conventional driving stunts were evident every day. Now, it has erupted in Victoria, replicating the Penticton driving behavior. Of course so substantive reason came from my brother; why does he bother to try when he comes across as a illogical dupe? So here we have a particular, and arranged IMHO, driving worse-ity now following me from one city to another. Not just once, or once per day, but at about the same rate as where I normally live, 6 or more per day if driving more than 20 minutes. Again, I have driven in busier cities, LA, Seattle, SF, London UK pre-overt perp berserk onset of 04-2002, and I have never seen such consistent and outrageous worse-ities anywhere. But now, Victoria (pop. 300k) and Penticton (pop. 36k) drivers somehow follow the spectacularly bad driving habits of those in each city; having moved from Victoria to Penticton, and now, Penticton to Victoria temporarily.

01-02-2014
A fine start to the day, with an extra 1.5 hour "hit" on my sleep time, 9.5 hours in all. Not only did I get the forced piss to send me downstairs, my my perp-abetting mother timed her arrival to intend to cluster fuck me at the house mid-level where the up and down staircases meet. So fuck that, I hung back until she got the the kitchen and ascended the stairs, and lo, if she didn't do a back and forth to then precede me, but flapping her arms for some bullshit reason. The batshit-wacko act is getting very thin when all these archetypal perp moves are delivered with such precision and even thwarting my intended countermeasures. And it is plain that the perps are upping the inanity/obstruction/intrusion ante as they arranged two service delivery boom trucks, a long standing vehicular preference, to sit outside and block the driveway, facing back to back to facilitate the transfer of telephone cable from one truck to the other. And too, their staff standing around in day-glo outfits, another perp garment fabric choice of greater regularity. Got all that?

To detail the perp moves in all of the above, here it the breakdown;

• blocking a private driveway with two vehicles for over 30 minutes with no prior notice,
• parking a vehicle on the wrong side of the road
• having TWO boom trucks arrayed outside
• transferring cable to large (3' diameter) drums (did you ever think that the cable drums sitting outside the Pentagon where Flight 77 "arrived" on 09-11-2001 nearby by was a construction leftover happenchance?) -can't seem to get any good web pics of this
• arranging a cluster of "Day-glo's" (my term for hi-viz dressed gangstalking personnel) to stand around and do next to squat, save for one feeling the cable as it passed from one drum to the other. (Can we say, measure the energetic interaction of a male shill/operative outside the FFF house where the TI victim is resident after 11.5 years of plastics materials testing games, one among so many other themes?).

And here is few pics of this high outrage (to me) outside the First Feral Family house at 0930h:

 They did get down to some real looking work afterward, starting at the FFF adjacent pole, and not before pit-lamping me (pickup with lights on) when I took the shot.

Anyhow, onto a visit to the window sales people and their plant as my mother started up this about replacing windows at the back. Not unexpectedly, a royal vehicular gangstalk on the way there. Then the prerequisite "ignore me/us" so-called service for 10 minutes when we were the only customers in the small-ish showroom. The fat , fifty-ish and fugly male finally made contact, and it didn't take him more than three minutes to act semi-bored, like he heard all this before. (This should be a $15k job for crissakes). His visage will make a visit to this FFF house tomorrow at 1000h; I can hardly wait.

Later, when coming back the telco crew had made further progress, enough to pinch the secondary access road down to one lane, 100' ahead of the L turn that I made where it was again limited to one lane immediately after I made turn into the (flag-girl directed) opposite lane to get around the second boom truck. (A pass-the-boom-truck variation; blocking the opposite lane E bound, then blocking my lane, forcing me into the flag-girl opposite lane N bound. Have we talked about the anisotropic properties of energy and its manifestation in fucking TI's before?  Not recently, but check the labels if interested). [Anisotropic; different physical properties in differing directions -e.g. wood; easily to split longitudinally, but not from any other axis.] At least the flag-girls were attractive, even if stuffed in day-glo suits and hardhats. A rare side bonus from all the telco "maintenance" activity that happens to erupt all too often, usually in the service of forcing alternate directional use of a roadway.

More obstruction fuckery tonight from my perp abetting mother tonight; she was in the kitchen and I saw about five minutes of a documentary on TV where whales and other sea creatures were forced/confused by sonar and ran ashore, and one (or some) were of huminoid form and were examined and scanned before the S. African authorities seized the body, but not the scan data. It was suggested, with other evidence examples, that mermaids were for real. I was just getting into this new revelation (to me) when my mother came in and wanted some UK accents heavy show on another channel. Another obstructionist stunt, though not of the morning time breakfast making hindering fuckery that has gone on most days since I arrived here, Dec. 07. I cannot wait to get the fuck out of here, only two more full days to go.

Other planted perp ideations that have reached a 100x/hour rate some days, not all, is the notion of getting my 200lb girth reduced to 175lb or so by way of liposuction. I saw the doctor 01-2013, and had an expensive quote at twice what I expected, and some months later my mother "happened" to send me most of the money as some kind of bequest to each of us three brothers, and is promising more in the last few days. Though I know that such promises are flat-out disinfo, especially from that source. So it seems that is going to happen, as even my rejecting responses (mind talk ones) are getting sharply reduced in duration. And the sight of my disgusting paunch, though not even average as far as paunches go, is somehow eliciting more of a planted visceral reaction. The notion of being KO'ed with anesthetic gas for any duration frankly scares the shit out of me as I just don't know what else the perp assholes will do, and in what condition I will be afterward. One could surmise that I have a body dysmorphic perspective, but if I don't like the sight of overweight persons, (and I get plenty of this gangstalker theme), then why would I like my own extra girth that has strangely increased over the past ten years when I eat less than I ever have?

It became clear to me that body morphology could be remotely manipulated as the assholes cycled me from 195lb to 185lb in 2002, and then puffed me up to 220lb and then dropped me down back to 195lb until 2012 when they increased me to 200lb. All in the guise of medication changes of course, though with their trademark "clue inconsistency trail" they like to leave. Though, in this post-Christmas state, after relentless provision of cakes, cookies, pastries etc. (never less than three on the go, and that many again as remnant portions), I might be 205lb. And as I try to avoid ingestion of gluten, as it is so horribly bad for anyone, not just celiacs, why, even that 20 year diet habit has been somehow forgotten during this FFF stay.

Another trait of this FFF stay has been my batshit wacko dipshitting by my mother to drive me into infuriation, though not directly at her. That is, to increase the infuriation level from extra-conventional adverse physical fuckery, and to have me express this louder as my perp-abetting mother's hearing seems to be much worse than last year. If in doubt, fuck the victim more; a perp credo I learned long ago.

01-04-2014
Only two days left at the FFF until I flee back to my place in Penticton.

More dip shitting, my mother starting to yap it up when I was watching a movie on TV last night, and it is at least the second time she has screwed me out of some decent dialog/entertainment on tv with this same technique in two days.

Then more of her dipshitting over flashlights again; looking at the PC with a LED flashlight, as it is too dark, this after finding the sun streaming in was too bright. As always, she manages to inadvertently (ahem) flick the light in my face at least once per stunt/dipshit show. Other LED related nonsense of a few days ago was the cheap-assed PA flashlight breaking up in my pocket, and yesterday's gangstalked trip to the red-shirt hardware store for my mother to get yet another flashlight. This after I fixed one a few weeks ago. Then off to get batteries for another flashight, button cells to get it working. Later, I got to install the batteries in yesterday's acquired flashlight as my mother couldn't find her way into the removable cover, even if it was the only steel screw on the whole thing.

Outside the tanning salon this am, why, a  vehicle was parked outside, the LED tail lights left on the entire time, there for entering and exiting the place. Not to mention LED lights have a "habit" of projecting beams from the physical bulbs in stobing like style right at me, the city buses routinely doing this for years. The bema interuption safety LEDs in the FFF have an everytime habit of strobing me in a stream for a few seconds per glance.

More perp-abetting mother battshit wacko dialog, this taking the cake. It was about the safety deposit key of three weeks ago when the bank told me that I had been given two keys when I had only one, and it was a $50 charge for the missing one. I decided to hold off on closing the box and see if I can find the key in Penticton after rooting through my crawl space stored boxes that haven't made it there. My mother says yesterday, "maybe the second one it is on your key ring". Like WTF; I have had the deposit box key on my keyring for ten years, and only one, and she knew this from past discussions on this tiresome topic she artfully revisits when I figure it is done. This all time wacko suggestion has to be the lowlight of the past months' stupidity I get flooded with. One can be sure if my mother is beating on a theme, it is perp arranged.

Yoga at my farm-worker friend's place, the third such visitation this past month. R was there too, something I know of in advance, negro friend of hers and who I know from at least two past farm jobs. I though R was going to be doing yoga too, but she begged off. And so, it was with the yoga DVD with a Caucasian woman instructor and two negroes (one M, F) to do alternate poses. I would characterize a this as negro pre-conditioning; one live one in advance, to be followed by the seen-before two on DVD. Maybe this "negro thing", (just one of the Unfavored Freak show as I see it after 11.5 years of this bullshit), the perps have been intensely focused on this past month while at the FFF house will be done, now that Mandela made his exit, the Mandela bio movie advertising will be past and I don't own a TV for the rest of the exposures in the news and advertising, as I don't own a TV. I doubt it though, as they like to keep the same theme going in other locations, at least for a while. I will call it now; a negro in my next yoga classes in Penticton next week.

The boom trucks again yesterday; first the tree service arrived next door at 0800 to get me up, getting the scene prepped, as that is where the telco workers arrived a few hours later and "happened" to resume work from the prior day again. it seems we have a junction pole outside. Two boom trucks and then the foursome of flag-girls again, all in day-glo. Both boom trucks later came to drive into the FFF driveway to turn around for some curious reason, one after the other, something my perp-abetting mother drew to my attention.

Said tree was on private property, and wasn't that a coincidence that the neighbor had his tree cleaned up then, but only that one?

The erstwhile telco crew came back later in the afternoon to yet again to do their cable installations, possibly running their paws over the cable casing like yesterday.

As if enough morning time commercial truck games hadn't erupted over the past two days, why, a fuel truck delivery at about 0900h, and at about 1300h, the recycle garbage people were coursing back and forth as they only do one side of the street for some reason, this being a low traffic subdivision.

Another fuckaround, getting screwed out of an interesting doc on TV on the Sochi Olympics, Russian style, "Putin's Games". My mother's now unerring need to watch some UK regular show -more UK accents. And to drive me upstairs onto this PC. Forget being able to watch hockey games; I haven's seen one since I have been here for a month with a TV. Talk about a Canadian sacrilege.

01-05-2013
A dullified day, all to get my angst up when going to the old folks home to see the FFF father, dementia and wheelchair bound resident. The feckless asshole who was half responsible for this current 11.5 abusive outrage. His one-time response to all of this was about five years ago when he oddly came out of dementia character, after I was complaining about the harassment, and he said, "it can't be as bad as all that". Here is this addled shit, and then has the temerity to tell me how bad the harassment is, when he made out all along he didn't know about it. (Gangstalking my ass at the FFF all the while though).

The perps kept me in an ancy mood the entire time, almost an hour, while at this god-forsaken place, all these wheelchairs with shriveled bodies on board, usually sleeping or totally out of it, mouths agape for the most part. Don't ever put me in one of those places; Dignitas and gone; a one-way ticket to Switzerland is all I need, plus a responsible care party to get me there.

And a flush of red vehicles when I drove back; there was red colored Christmas decorations in the orange carry bag my mother had, so maybe that was the reason for the perps' red fixation.

And during this visit, some sit-around "visit" time to the upstairs activity room, my father falling asleep inside five minutes. Then the more capable elder-cases started moving in, begining 40' away. One strange overweight and prone mofo was in a wheelchair, with this young male at the table reading a newspaper. I thought he was a staff member at first, but no. They did banter a bit, and were joined in 10 min. by another male. Neither looked like children of this prone mofo, and the latter one wasn't spoken to by the wheelchair mofo/patient. Finally, I convinced my dipshit mother that the visit was pointless, (FFF father was sleeping), and we took him down to his room. Anyhow, she putzed around downstairs and took 5 min. to find and pour a cup of orange juice, and my father drank it up reasonably quickly for once, as I thought this was going to be another stall ruse.

More putzing to finish off, we finally get upstairs to the main desk where my mother does her log sign-out dithering, and there was a 8 party clusterfuck (10 people in all) with wheelchairs coursing past, others coming in the main doors, and others doing whatever. I stand to the side to let all this bullshit sort itself out, and the two dudes of the above odd-care situation/gangstalk are now standing around doing absolutely nothing as part of the aforementioned clusterfuck and just looking stupid, not even trying to look that they were going to sign out. (As they were there first, they should of finished anyhow). My mother was finally done with signing out, and as I was near the door, I follow the instructions on the keypad and the front door opens. It is only then that the two dudes decide to get in motion, and follow me and my mother out. Like WTF; neither of these dudes looked like they belonged in the first place when first visiting, then timed their stand-around the desk when I arrived some 15 minutes later, and then stood stupid-like as part of the clusterfuck, and then move toward me to follow me out only when I had the front door open. Most times in these follow-me skits, they have a reason to stand around, say, speaking with the front desk personnel and the conversation adroitly ending at the presribed instant, to then tail me. Not this crew; make it obvious, and all the more so with the guppy pose (mouth hanging open), and add in some fugly Unfavored features (male, red hair, tight curly hair). I be glad to get the fuck out of this town tomorrow.

Enough for today, unless some brilliant observations come on later tonight, and so I will post this now (1540h).

Monday Off

11-12-2012
Rare to have a weekday off, and I will have two this week. Today, because it was lieu of a national holiday, Remembrance Day yesterday, and with the broad hint from work was that it was a day off. Though that never stopped us from working statutory holidays in the vineyard in the summer.

And so, they pulled a snowfall overnight, with me as the obligate driveway shoveller until I depart this rental situation at month's end. The landlady returned last night too, from her near week long time away, and she retrieved the snow shovels from the garden shed last night. (And got into some emotional wrangling with her elderly mother yet again, though it lasted only a few minutes. I get to hear way too much living downstairs at grade level.)

Even more curious was that I got up at 0800h, and neither was up until at least 1000h, after I had cleared the driveway and come back in. Only two days ago, the granny was getting up at 0600h on her own (before the caretakers arrived), coincident with me, and then again the next day at 0700h. Anyhow, the overhead "coincidences" and then their sudden cessation aren't anything new, but I always like to map it to some kind of other event the perps find interesting; e.g. moon cycles, work schedule change, new package of coffee (think brown), or whatever else turns their collectively insane crank.

And it might of been the bloody mess on the pillow case the perps decided to create; it is rare I get this form of invasive abuse, but it has been ramping up in the last week, only  from nasal build up though. That begat laundering all the bedsheets, two white striated sheets and the pillow case, while I was out shovelling snow. Color continuity? -maybe. Then the pillow case didn't come clean and had to be relaundered and hang dried, giving it a different signature from the bedsheets; no doubt of exciting perp interest to change up the laundered item history.

A "need" to then continue this tanning obsession planted on me, as I really couldn't care less until doing outside farm work in 2008. The shiftless males duly arrived after me, and then when making my exit. The very cute new salon attendant was on duty again, and she seems to be a planted distraction to say the least.

Then onto the LD store where they packed the parking lot three ranks deep, almost exclusively greyscale colored vehicles; white, silver-grey, mid-grey and black. I don't think I have seen such a concentration of this color theme before, save the the line-ups at the ferry parking lot, as past photos can attest.

Again, the shiftless males arrive after me at the checkout, the fuchsia haired girl was in the next checkout, and the sheepdog haired young male cashier was unusually chipper. Most often I get grim, and very grim (as in scared shitless) at checkouts.

11-13-2012
A putz day at work, as the co-owner was out most of the day. The winemaking isn't too demanding of late, which I told them, though I am sure the perps made sure it was known as well.

Though the perps made it interesting by have a floating lid gasket, much like an inner tube, blow up and scatter two cups of cider just where I was about to resume working on insulating the garage door. Not only did I get put through the wrangling adversity to get the spare one on and centered in the track of the lid, but I also had to clean up the mess.

And this was a repeat of this morning, when moving the transfer pump out of the way, why it dumped at least a liter of water on the floor, again, just where I was to work. That had to be cleaned up too. There have been times when I have seen wet splats arrive from nowhere, just where I have mopped up. Nothing new in these water mess games.

When I got back to this residence, why, the code wouldn't work in the outside door. I tried the alternate door and lo, it didn't work either. I rang the bell at the landlady's door, and eventually her 90 yo. mother slowly descended the stairs. I explained the problem, and the (obese, almost grotesque) landlady came down and told me she reset her codes, but no other, but "somehow" my keycode got deleted. She said she would fix the problem and would meet me at the door. And so she had to get her keycode, and ask me mine, and reset them. (I haven't tried it yet).

When I got in I saw she left a note earlier about a parcel in the shared laundry area. I retrieved it and opened it up and looked at all the tool and gift items I had ordered. Then once I looked at them all, a sudden need to take a shit came on, and I had to deal with that. No toilet blocking stunts thankfully. And so it would seem this whole fucking charade was to have me go to two extra doors at other locations in the house, keeping me delay me outside, and then finally allow me to get to the BROWN parcel. And too, the overhead noise started up as I was looking at each item from the parcel. As has been mentioned many times in this blog, the perps are besotted with the color BROWN, and always are judicious in how and where it is arranged. And since a huge amount of items are shipped in brown cardboard boxes worldwide one would think the perps have this one figured out. But no, they must harass the living shit out of me and then engage in the all too familiar parcel delivery jerkaround event. Bring on the UPS vans for the next week.

And to add that, the perps pulled one of their very favorite jerkaround stunts; obstructing doorway/lock egress. I cannot count the number of times they have done this, but my perp-abettting mother has deliberately locked me out of the house at least four times in the last 2 years. Never mind the perp guidance, this was conventional knowledge based. It is just so funny for them to have their victims attempt to open a locked door. One can imagine the level of juvenility that forms this notion, and keeps at it for ten years.

11-15-2012
Another utilitarian work day; helping out getting a pallet load of wood pellets for the vineyard owner. As the owner's don't have a pickup truck, they often require the services of a local handyman, who has one and a trailer as well. First a trip to the dump to get rid of old kitchen stoves in the trailer, and then an hour highway drive to Westbank to get the pellets. As it was a ton, and on a pallet, and the pallet is a $50 charge, it was declined and so we loaded it ourselves and left the pallet behind. They were in 40lb bags, and the loading went reasonably quickly. More than planned as it "happened"; a semi-trailer truck was loading at an adjacent bay, and lo, if the truck driver didn't come over and help us load. Freaking ridiculous to say the least. Plenty of road traffic on the highway, as in vehicular gangstalking. And a special day it was too, as I was the passenger in a metallic red maroon colored pickup truck.

Which was true for 40 minutes yesterday as well; we dropped off a surplus dryer to my landlady who needed one. Not that she deserved it, for she was enough of a pain in the ass that I gave her my notice last month, and will be moving from my shortest tenancy, a whole three months worth. Call it pissing off the "help' (that's me) once too often. Said landlady was still kvetching about the dryer set-up, and I told her I would look after it when I returned in the evening.

And course I had to make a few sorties to my suite to get tools to get the old dryer out, and lo, if there wasn't vile red colored plasma squiggles in my sight that persisted from shared laundry room, into my suite, and then again when back in the laundry room. This was the never-before event of returning to my suite in the middle of a working day. Exciting times for the perps, and all the more so as I entered via the front foyer of the house, and not from the back door.

Anyhow, more ruminations over the load of woodstove pellets today; about the most opposite one could get to the loaded logging trucks that are arranged in such frequency around me. Over the years there has been large loads of timbers, and the ubiquitous semi-trailer loads of dimension lumber, invariably wrapped in plastic. All this in the service of "wood stalk", for whatever that means for the perps. Regular readers will know I have a forestry background, and often measured live trees in the forest as part of wood volume sampling activities. And too, working with fallers on one project where the trees were measured standing, then again by scalers after it was felled. A significant amount of my past job history can be added upon, but one gets the point; when my life has been orchestrated, scripted and arranged since birth, along with participating quisling personnel (including family) down to the the last microsecond, one can safely assume that the perps have a HUGE interest in some kind of  tree/wood/wood composite products energetic connection with me. I would be the last to know exactly why, though I have read that trees are deemed to be living energy pumps. And who knows; the very trees I measured some 40 years ago may now be in the form of lumber or other wood products. It would fit the perp pattern.

And the prickly landlady is off tomorrow to travel to Seattle. Now three for three know trips where she has managed to follow my old footsteps; W Washington State, Victoria BC, and now Seattle. Plus last week she was away for a week and never said where. I am suspicious of these large, childless and homely women, two in the last two years, that seem to arrive into my life.

As I was fixing the dryer last night the landlady came to "chat", and tried to put on the squeeze again to have me stay, paying full rent but no landscape maintenance requirements, but I told her that I had already made a financial commitment to the next place. As in moving yet again, the fourth residence this year, not including early January. She made out that she was "so stressed" again, though she has no progeny, husband or works at a job. Not that she provides any supporting detail, which makes me suspicious too.

And yesterday, the cleaning lady at the vineyard house got paid by the owner, and then launched into a soliloquy after she was paid by the owner, complaining to me, while eating lunch (and captive on the couch) that she doesn't get enough work hours, when she formerly worked at at fence post operation where she got 80 hours each two weeks. And of course she doesn't fill in the details as to why she doesn't work there any more. Like WTF; she drives a late model Ford SUV that has the self parking option; it just doesn't compute. Or, put it another way; why keep me in suspense as the story doesn't add up given the lack of detail? Why is it I am this chosen receiver for all these tales of woe, particular financial and job related, when I don't have much engagement with them in the first place? The latest perp planted similie is "faux woe"; cute.

And I see the perps screwed me out seeing, or even knowing, about last month's charge card bill. A whole $400 or so, all charges that I somehow "forgot". As in Not; if I receive a bill I don't forget and pay it on time. There has been more than once when they have messed with bill payments, either stopping the bill or redirecting and obstructing payment (via mail). I have no idea why they need to do this, though it would seem to be time related.

11-16-2012
A Friday weekday off in advance of attending an all-day course tomorrow. The upstairs clunking, squeaking and thumping started within minutes of me getting up, though to be fair, they are going to Seattle for two or three days. Apparently for some medical evaluation, though it does strike me as curious that they didn't leave a day earlier, as it would be a late afternoon appointment to get there on time. Not many specialists are open Saturdays. But as there is no end of BS streaming from the landlady I have given up on anything she says, be it the apparent conventional explanation or if an operative of the Fourth Reich of the Psychopathic Confederacy to roll two of my most used names together.

And I get to putz online in the morning before heading out to my hair and leg wax appointment. The perps like to "get me ready" by whatever nasty stuff, along with the color transitions exposure, they are pumping out of ubiquitous LCD display panels.

And as part of this morning's activity, more shopping/viewing online, and lo, if a sudden need to take a shit didn't come on immediately following putting an item into my online shopping cart. But that wasn't enough; the rarely-outside landlady found some reason to be outside adjacent to the bathroom, and then the perps decided to make it messy and block the toilet. So, another shower to clean up, and just as the Liquid Plumber was dumped in the toilet bowl (aka chemical ether interaction), why, and overhead clunk suddenly erupted. Ten years of constant toilet games and here we are, still noisestalking me over this.

And why did they take so long to do a wax and haircut? So I could get screwed for a parking fine, another jerkaround I get from time to time. A whole fifteen minutes over, and the Fuckwit who gave it to me was across the street attending to other parked vehicles. And I get to send a check to the City of Pentiction, no online payment allowed.

And the cosmetology & haircut school owner was on site today, and was friendly, even calling me by name though I hadn't met her before. Like straight out of perp harassment training; have the business or property owner come by for a gangstalk too.

And post haircut (always a big perp event) and post leg wax (always a big perp event) I went to the tanning salon to get browned. Or to invoke the vanity excuse, to keep the tan that I got from the summer. No doubt I was duly glowing afterward when I went to the supermarket to get a few things. They were all over me there, including the ubiquitous stocking/stalking carts and their brown boxes they like to place near me, or where I am to go.

 11-17-2012
A Saturday, and an all day course on Introduction to Wine Chemistry, on behalf of my employer. He and his wife will be there too. The second half next week. Hopefully there will be no lab exercises, as past chemistry courses haunt me on these alone. I always wondered why I was so scrambled for following the steps in the long ago lab exercises, and why I could never recall what to do even if I studied ahead of time. Now I know, the Fourth Reich was on me then, making sure I was incompetent in a chemistry lab.

Back from the wine chemistry course, and I had to say it was interesting. The instructor had interesting experiences he conveyed, and the harassment BS was down to the low setting for once.

11-18-2012
Missing Sunday here, best get this published for Monday.

Continued Intense Abuse

1120h
More of yesterday's intense rage-ification provoking abuse, and all the more exciting for the assholes because of it being a laundry day today. Another excitement moment for them was starting a new jar of peasnut butter; back to their brown food fixation and that of plant oils, or any kind of oils, ingested or not. At least 40 rage provocations so far this morning; pulling items from my grasp, flicking peanut butter around, more crumb arrivals from nowhere, having me look at my watch but not read the time, fucking me out of selecting the correct coins for the laundry, fucking me out of the correct placement order for the sheets to put back on the bed (done it correctly for six years now, and then they decide to fuck me out of "knowing" today), and also creating extra mess when cleaning the kitchen floor. They also had me do vacuuming "owing" to a strange surge of red and navy blue dust bunnies, and lo, if there wasn't also a surge of silver-grey and white gangstalking vehicles (sedans) outside when I was near the window, exactly the same eruption of road traffic whenever I do vacuuming at the part time job at the car dealership. Funny how these traffic eruptions "happen" in identical circumstances in differing locations.

Anytime I do laundry a sudden "need" to clean erupts, and this is the only time I do floor, bathroom or kitchen cleaning. This has been the imposed habit for some six years, another never-before behavior modification. They had the ability to control motivation a long time ago, likely from the get go and didn't learn it from screwing me around in the developmental years. Just to think, they have the ability to make people motivated, and don't appear to be applying it to the chronically unemployed.

The assholes have been planting navy blue fluff and dust bunnies in many places of late; I get them on my feet when in the shower, on towels and in my shoes before putting them on. They seem to have locked onto this color of late, and it might be that my mattress, a futon style one, is also navy blue in color. And it isn't too much of a surprise that they also put on plenty of "wood stalking" as well, the bed being made of pine boards, and no composite wood products. The aforementioned "wood stalking" is when they present wood objects in my proximity in public; tractor trailer loads of 12" timbers, pallet trucks, pickups with a wood load or wood side stakes, gangstalking operatives packing wood objects and the like. It is one of the more benign stunts, but they are very consistent about needing me to see various wood products when outside.

1420h
Making lunch earlier was another intensive harassment session, harkening back the 2003 to 2006 days of intense fuckery that got me "evicted" three times in succession. That is, on two of three locations, there were no actual neighbors who would of complained, it was part of the game to move me on. Then that level of abuse suddenly stopped in 09-2006, allowing me to build up my cred as a renter. Funny how that goes, making me move through enraging me, and then it suddenly diminshed. Not only the provocations, but the range of which activities that were part of the harassment scope suddenly were fewer as well.

2110h
The intense harassment has slowed up tonight and they didn't grind me at the part time cleaning job earlier either. It is a car dealership that I do the cleaning, and they even let me get ambitious and allow more time to get to the jobs that weren't getting done. They know, and likely manage for, the jobs that don't get done owing to time constraints and then plant ideations about completing the job that don't materialize. Today, they had me do extra vacuuming, extra mopping and even sweeping, getting the loose ends tidied up. A relief, even if I worked an extra hour.

I still got some weirdness though; there was three greeters (putative car sales staff) who were at the front door when I arrived, and in keeping with the latest feint, were engaged with themselves and had their backs toward me, doing the ignoring me act. I have seen this so many times from many gangstalkers that it is plain tiresome. Setting me up to possibly say hello and greet them (if they were looking), but instead have them ignoring me in a staged exclusive confab. This is not new, it is just more of the same from different parties. Then, once inside the car dealership building, I go to the closet to get the vacuum cleaner to take it to the Service and Parts section to use first, ahead of the bossman's need for it. One of the greeters comes back to gangatalk, and then stares at me while I am lugging the vacuum cleaner around the new silver grey Miata that is parked close to the closet.

Then 10 minutes later, when cleaning the coffee bar in the Service area, two dude comes to the glass door and opens it to my surprise, and one asks if they are open, and I tell them no. Then the second dude in a navy blue toque commences to stare at me for three seconds or so, and asks me if I can answer his question about Mazda vehicles. I tell him that I am the janitor, and I don't know anything about Mazdas. Then they leave, and I lock the door. Totally bizarre, as the freaking door should of been locked by the Service staff, hours beforehand as anyone could of walked in and stolen the items on display.

I don't know what it is about door locking, but the perps are putting on all kinds of games. It was after closing time and a lone admin staff member is working late, and I was nearby cleaning the doors which are not locked. I ask him if I should lock them and he says no, he will be going in two minutes. A totally weird answer as he isn't part of the Sales staff, but does administrative work. No big deal, he has his reasons. I go to the other side of the building and clean the doors there, and again it is unlocked. I decide to lock it, even if the admin guy is still there and hasn't left, because it is a secondary entrance. I do other work for 15 more minutes, and then the admin guy pops by and says he has to check the doors for being locked. I don't tell him that I have already locked the one he was heading for, as he likely has to see for himself. All this mentioning and empahsis over locked or unlocked doors; totally bizarre.

It was four days ago when a negro gangstalker put on a bullshit stunt at the locked doors after opening hours when I was cleaning them. I still haven't figured out what the deal was over that, save presenting a negro through the safety glass, something they need to do for all the freaks, weirds and the Unfavored.

And what is it about toques of late? I wear a black one made of a thick acrylic like wool and it has become the fashion statement of the gangstalking community. Today's staring dude at the door (above) was wearing a navy blue colored one, though it looked to be the same kind as mine in terms of thickness and folded at the edge. I have had former office colleagues that bought the same color of jacket as I did, and acted rather contrite when I mentioned it to them. I suppose having the same garments makes for easier comparisons between gangstalkers and victims, which might mean even more copycatting fashion eruptions.

Picture time. Taken 03-20-2009, 1744h, 37sec. An eveningtime arranged vehicle session. All sedans; a silver grey sedan either side of the light metallic green vehicle between them, partially obscured by the intervening tree. A white vehicle at the rear of the parked file, presumably for additional greyscale variance.












Taken 03-20-2009, 1745h, 03sec. Same as above essentially, just more to the left and the excitement is the three deep maroon red vehicles parked in file at the lower left. As far as I can recall, I never saw anything like this until the overt harassment and color games began in 04-2002. Tell me if I have lost my "normal" detection abilities by being contained in an anomalous environment for close to seven years.












Taken 03-23-2009, 0728h, 58sec., at my parents' place. This is the roofing supplies delivery truck, getting ready to unload supplies on the roof. This big stack of 3/8" plywood was hoisted onto the roof and placed over top of us while at breakfast. Three of us, all for testing with the phenolic resins of plywood that seem to give the perps so much trouble, and hence, their obsession over plywood games. I suppose it wasn't good enough that I did many home repairs with such glues, as they would of been surveilling me then, if not even setting me up. Their house was re-roofed in three days, and the plywood was laid down on the boards that held the former cedar shake roof. And too, the ashphalt content of the new shingles will also be of intense perp interest, as they just love to have me walk through oil slicked on the streets. This picture is to support the storyline, and contains nothing anomalous or odd that I am aware of.













Taken 03-23-2009, 1105h, 06sec. Back at my place, and to show that the perps don't always believe in parking their vehicles in the parking lots they own. There is no job site nearby, and no known reason for the vehicles to be parked, save their exotic methods of wanting to compare vehicles parked over soil to those parked over adjacent ashphalt in differing orientations. As far as I can tell, there is nothing odd about the vehicle colors, though have a look and tell me if you find anything. There are plenty of vacant lots in this town, and I always wondered why, and it dawned on me (read, perp supplied notion) that the perps might own them and want to keep them as a barefield site for comparative purposes to proximate buildings. They have some lots near my parents' place, and have had them near other locations I have lived. There is also a strong association with proximate lots being developed near past residential and work locations. Also, they have undertaken bare lot drilling for no seeming reason on my commute walking route.












The all time adjacent lot development was in Seattle when they dug down 100' and put in an office tower next to the one I worked in. On 4th ave, and begun in 2000, finished in 2003. Like I have mentioned in the past, there are some intrinsic properties of the soil, rock and the earth itself at each residential geographic location that the perps seem to be attempting to quantify, and have not yet succeeded. This might also be reflected in their interest in petroleum products, which would surely retain the energetic properties of the geological environment from which it was extracted. And don't get me started on oil spills.

One other event tonight that brought on some anomalous activities was finally recieving my rebate check from a PC memory manufacturer. It was four months ago, and finally the check came, and when I picked up the mail a metallic globular plasma thing sat over the mail item (the only mail for the week), and then trailed me to the elevator, into my apartment, and finally faded out after five minutes. Normally these globular things are of a darker appearence, as this had the look of mercury being suspended in mid-air. Opening the mail also brought on extra noisestalking.

That covers the show today; the abuse finally lessening in the latter part of the day.