05-20-2020
Ok; lets just call it "dysthymia" (persistent depressive order) for now, which is very much related to my ADD-Inattentive condition. And which IMHO, and based on some research (but not definitive) on my methylation genetics and homozygous SNP's (Single Nucleotide Polymorphism, which seem to have an impaired ability to generate and preserve dopamine, a very essential hormone (not just a neurotransmitter). All that flies in the face of current clinical practice, psychiatry in particular being mired in the dark ages. (And you thought that Sigmund Freud, that over-rated cocaine addict, really accomplished anything? A delusional and fancified thinker at best, never realizing that he was exogenously increasing his dopamine level while partaking of the white fluff.)
So don't go to your doctor complaining of low dopamine, even if you have a corroborating lab test. Complain of whatever ails you, and don't mention dopamine. Never mind that its average rate of production goes down 1%/year (13%/decade) after age 40. And if you started from a low level for all your life, and then attain that rate of decline, why, one ends up in a worse place. Ever wonder why those stereotypical behaviors of old age occur? You know, grumpy, irritable, impaired recall etc.; well, its the low dopamine.
I reckon it will be at least another 100 years before dopamine enters the clinical practice dialog, and hopefully I will be long gone. They just don't want to know, nor do they care; just chase the symptoms and apply a medication. Ever wonder why addiction research has accomplished zilch in practice? It's a low dopamine issue, along with dopamine receptor issues. Wonder why child abuse gets a walk with respect to the law, especially at the hands of untouchable political vipers? Why, abuse at that developmental stage reduces dopamine receptors, and has many other dopaminergic disruptions, never to be recovered in later life. It is neurologically complicated to say the least, with genetic variations (of SNP's), many 100's of neural pathways/brain centers, and dopamine transport, receptors and appropriate preservation and regulation of dopamine.
Based on my experiences we humans are unwitting dopamine research subjects. TI's, or at least this one, are witting subjects in dopamine research of the nonconsensual kind. As to who takes such an over-arching interest in this across all races, nations and countries, I have no idea. I simply call them the Psychopathic Confederacy, as it is quite plain to me that they don't care one whit about human suffering, even on a grand scale. And it could well be that they have been at this for a long time, and even planted us schmucks here on this Prison Planet just for this very purpose, though I suspect that the Grand Plan goes far beyond physiologic dopamine activity in all its myriad effects, though a key component for whatever reason. Or at least, that is my theory, based on personal experience as a TI for 18 years now. And it may well be that dopamine, in all its myriad functions, interactions and body locations sits at the gateway to further researching energetic/psychic interactions between persons, animals, plants (all living beings) and even object sentience. (Based on my observations as to how they love to invoke fuckery over missing items as one example). Just my speculative take on how all this fits together, but TPTB know much more about this, and in all likelihood, for a few thousand years.
Anyhow, I have been feeling like hell these past few weeks, along with generalized demotivation (why these blog postings are less frequent), and also why my "to-do" lists are getting longer and things aren't getting done as soon as they should. Months will go by before an item is attended to, unless it hurts or may spawn other disasters and expenses.
05-25-2020
Rain again this Monday, all day effectively, just like the preceding Friday. Rare for all day rain here, and then to have it three days apart is the most that I have known since I moved here in 2012 . I had another near all day energetic suckdown again; still no conventional clinical explanation as to is possible cause.
Vineyard work in the rain all day, unusual by local standards, but as I work mainly on my own, I don't get called off by anyone. And I wore my gumboots, and the rain gear held dampness at bay for the most part, save the latter hour. An ongoing noise parade on the nearby road again; hot-rod muffler noise when finishing a row and turning around to start a new one. (Very common for my directional changes to be noisestalked, as in the anisotrophy of space; differing properties in different directions). And even the infernal HD motorcycle noise no less, an apparent rider on the wet slicked roads.
And the dump trucks on the adjacent road kept arriving and leaving every 5 minutes for a time. I don't know what the Psychopaths interest in running dump trucks near me is exactly; they like running large steel objects in my proximity, and also like having soil or rock from elsewhere moved in my presence, so maybe a "two-fer", who knows. In my very first year of school 1959-60, a pre-school in fact, they were building the Oak Bay breakwater in Victoria, BC, and were running rock laden dump trucks past the school for a considerable time. Perhaps this too was the Psychopathic arrangers at work, as it seems they were on me from the get-go, and making such arrangements (breakwaters, schooling, truck routing etc.) is what they do best.
Petro-voltaics and whatever earth energies come from rock, gravel and soil removed from elsewhere have been a long standing component of the Psychopathic fuckery objectives from my experience. I suppose it just wasn't enough that my father was a coal geologist. Goodness knows what kind of interest that all human mining (and perhaps smelting) activities brings them, but it seems they like to test the TI's (being one) by having this earth material hauled in my proximity. I have had rock collections in the past, gathered interesting rocks on my own (which disappeared from my bedroom while away for the summer, and no explanation forthcoming by any family member), and still they hound my ass with their rock and soil hauling. Last fall, I had a job digging holes at building foundations when working with a Mexican couple, all of us working for a structures lifting contractor. So fucking when is the Psychopath's fixation on earth energetics going to be over? No idea, never mind what they want from this particular aspect of their human nonconsensual research imperative.
I got it together on the weekend to head to a Kelowna audio store and purchased a bigger-ticket AC power cleaning device. I attended a product demo last year, and the quality of the AC power in the Okanagan Valley was said to be "akin to a third world power supply" according to the speaker. That is to say, the embedded line noise that comes with the AC power is similar to the third world. Some residences have been measured by the vendor at 97 volts, when they should be 110-120AC. And apparently, the single crown corporation power supplier is deemed to be a cash cow for the government, so sensible and prescient investment in power distribution is discouraged, just cover the patch-and-pray maintenance expenses only.
Hard to believe that it is "essential travel only" still here in this province, given my observations of the road traffic on my way to Kelowna and back. Like, it was a regular and very busy Saturday in these here parts. Unless of course, vehicular gangstalking is deemed "essential".
I put the stereo and PC and display screen through this power cleaning device, and I have to say it is a two thumbs up improvement. Better sound; firm and evident bass and better articulation of mid-ranges. This here display screen is sharper too. As to what this means to the Psychopaths, I don't really know, though I am quite sure they must be pumping something through at the same time, or else using LCD screens for some kind of input or energetic evaluation, but that is pure speculation on my part. Tom Bearden has a number of theories relating to (free) energy from the vacuum (space is a better term IMHO), echoing Tesla's work, indicating that there is a huge possible electrical generation, and yet our present EM theory has been hugely restricted by discarding important components of Maxwell's work. Anyhow, I have wanted to clean up my stereo's AC power for many decades, though results will vary as to where one lives and where the power comes from. I am often covered with copper colored gangstalking vehicles, so perhaps this fits into the bigger picture too.
05-26-2020
Another vineyard work day, sunny at times even. The adjacent vehicle noise was backed off some, but they never seem to fail to add the hot-rod muffler sound of passing vehicles when I change directions, moving from the end of a row to start at the next. Just plain fascinating for them, now 18 years running.
Funny how the hot-rod muffler noise just keeps "happening" everywhere I go, or work. I was at a vineyard beside the lake shore accessed by a Naramata dead end road, and lo, instead of a parade of vehicles with loud mufflers, why, they put on recreational watercraft with similarly sounding loud mufflers. You know, those dudes who just need to make a loud noise with their boats and just plain let it rip as fast and noisy as they can. That particular flavor of infernal unmufflered ICE noise has an almost unerring knack of erupting when I change directions during vineyard work, at my vehicle (getting in or out of my vehicle or when at the tailgate), and when entering or exiting through building doors or even vineyard gates. The increased frequency of someone "happening" to be on the other side of the door as I enter or exit a building hasn't gone unnoticed from the outset of this abuse-athon in 04-2002, and still continues to this day. My employer couple seem to have an unerring knack for this, and also when I am at my vehicle retrieving work supplies.
06-02-2020
I purchased a pair of noise cancelling headphones three days ago to deal with effing noise onslaught from the adjacent Upper Bench Road. Same Hifi shop in Kelowna, a second visit a week apart). And they work, as long as I don't get any extra-conventional fuckery to cause them to mess up. But of course the headphones didn't work at first, so (I presume) they can calibrate me without wearing them first, and later with them on as a second attempt a few hours later "somehow caused" them to work. Imagine that; same as nearly every audio device or component that I have purchased for the last 20 years. They just "happen" to fail to work at first and then later function normally.
Though too, they may have later reasons to sabotage the device again, as they brought that to my attention many times in the past. The first notable audio gear sabotage fuckery was early on in 2002, when I took my reliable Sony Discman to the gym and ran on the tread mill, and the assholes decided they didn't like me listening at a moderate volume and then proceeded to reduce the volume (in my headphones), and no amount of attempted compensation with the volume adjustment would work. That wasn't the first remote hack of an unconnected device, but it signaled their meddling with audio gear, which continues to this day. And too, one has to wonder how do they know what the volume is at it reaches my ears by remote means? I don't know, but again, it wasn't the first time that they seemed to know what I was hearing at every moment.
These new headphones come with internal batteries to run the adaptive noise cancelling microphones, and have five buttons or ports on them. And they run Bluetooth, a common feature in consumer electronics, though the first time I have entered into this technical realm. And said buttons are multi-modal just to add more hidden features; hold for 5 seconds, hold a certain three buttons for 10 seconds etc. The utter depravity of user interface dysfunctional design is still with us. Not only that, some buttons are very easy to "inadvertently" press while placing on one's head, all to find out that the normal function has been messed with, begetting a vexing excursion to find out how it got messed up and to restore it. With Bluetooth and a 3.5mm jack, plus cell phone interactions (e.g. taking a call and stopping the music), multimodal functions, ear wear sensors to stop the source device (in Bluetooth only I found) and a cell phone app to optionally control or set the headphones, it is a Psychopathic exploitive delight in terms of multiple sabotage options and to piss me off in an attempt to recover normal listening. Never mind the headphone features where continued button pressing gets four levels of noise cancellation and no display of which one is selected. (A pre-recorded voice describes the button pressing action, but "somehow" it didn't work today). And besides, they can shut devices down anytime they like, as they did today with the digital audio player.
Plus, they add to the headphone wearing fuckery by creating itchy sensations in the corners of my eyes which need to be immediately relieved, all to force me to remove my work gloves, remove my headphones to then remove my eyeglasses to then attend to the itch. They just love this kind of disruptive fuckery, and all the more so when headphones are playing. Other headphone fuckery is to slowly move them on my head to a point they are about to fall off. After all, they are magnetic devices, and the Psychopaths use magnetic methods for most everything. The last measured magnetic flux around me was about 1800milligaus about 2010, when 0.5 is normal background level. I have been looking for a magnetic flux meter app for my phone but don't seem to have much traction in finding one to install. Assuming it isn't compromised of course, another common tactic of theirs.
Headphone use is a particularly fraught battleground of extra-conventional fuckery, so we shall see how long this one (noise cancelling) lasts before something goes wrong. The road noise onslaught from the adjacent Upper Bench Road and especially the most loathed noise in the universe, the HD motorcycle noise, have for now, been noise cancelled in these new headphones. But that doesn't stop the noise harassment fuckery though; the number of sudden punctuated noises has increased, the ones that get through the noise cancelling headphones from afar. These, so far, are car horns, a new noise to the noisescape of this particular locale. Well done assholes, and totally predictable.
Eye, ear or head itches have increased considerably these last 6 weeks, perhaps 20x/day now, when I had less than 6x/day (assuming I noticed). So I suppose this serves the headphone use interruption fuckery, though it has been a long standing method of inducing work or effort delay, and also, very likely some kind of remote energetic interaction determination.
06-02-2020
The above mentioned near leveling dysthymic fugue has diminished some in the last two days. I changed up a recent (three weeks ago) Rx (as in dropped it altogether), changed up my long running breakfast diet and I have finally pulled out of this near crippling pox. As to what exactly the problem cause is uncertain, but I better. BTW, long past experience is that the Psychopaths can remotely invoke depressive conditions to severe levels. I wonder if this is another method of remotely forcing someone to make lifestyle changes, all the way to no life at all. Just wondering. Anyhow, I am going to take some more iron IV infusions next week and maybe this will help. Curious that these didn't help my iron levels in 12-2019. We shall see. And too, it might be related to all things magnetic and the rest of the Psychopathic fuckery that goes with that.
Enough patter for a posting, and perhaps next posting I will get political on Covid19, the present riots (on racism- a fucking joke), and the decent into lawless governance as it seems. More succinctly expressed as "loot on", we got the police hog-tied. Why even their own police station was allowed to be trashed FFS.
Showing posts with label petrovoltaics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label petrovoltaics. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 02, 2020
Sunday, March 20, 2016
Driver Hell
03-13-2016
One has to admire the perp's timing. Now income tax return time, and there are at least two I need to print because they are only online. And with my regular PC now in the shop for 2.5 months for a two week job, I purchased a small browser PC in its place. Ergo, no printer driver, and not that Windows 7 let me in it on either. Finally I get to figure out why it just sits there while I fume at it. No drivers at the HP site, and the HP software "Problem Solution" detects the HP932C printer OK, and then just sits there and does nothing. No driver it seems, not that it tells me either. Then the HP site suggests a Windows driver update, and it doesn't have my printer in the list, but goes away for an list update and doesn't come back. I had to kill it with Task Manager for crissakes. Even if printer drivers are years old, they generally work, so what is the deal?
Above hassle is also aided by not finding the advanced search in Google so I can limit the ancient results from the web search. Add in Firefox changing the interface and de-featuring it too, if not obstructing the features. And aforementioned Windows not finding the driver either. Like WTF; do I have to visit my PC in the shop and get the driver software from it? (Said PC has been there for three months for a two week job).
Another perp trick in the name of extending this driver hell is to block the Search box on driver download sites. This driver software obstruction is a serious minded harassment fuckover scene tonight.Then shit like this, and not the first time and only site this file cannot be found;
What is going on that a single driver file is totally blocked out all over the internet, and not just at the corporate sites (one being the one who made the printer in the first place)?
03-14-2016
Pruning vines this afternoon at the site with the construction babe. I couldn't miss that figure each time I came to the end of the row, being on show IMHO.
Yoga tonight, and the one new dude who arrives ends up slipping into the room first, and lo, if he didn't place his mat in exactly the usual location I do. So I went to the back of the room and disrupted the regular order of mat placement there.The winsome tall girl ended up next to me, she of exquisite yoga skills, not unlike the tall girl of last year who doesn't come any more. The late comer in a red top who had been hounding me the last few sessions in the lobby ended up on my other side, and way to close, as I ended up flopping my hand onto her arm in a supine twist. Enough of that bullshit, so I moved my mat over 18" where there was plenty of extra room. Funny how that happens.
The yoga instructor doing adjustments, that is, aiding the student with touches and holds has got more interesting in perp terms. She doesn't explain what she is going to do, so hanging onto me while I do position changes seems a little odd. (Because normally, as I understand it, she would help with a single position). A few weeks ago she ran her hand down my spine after doing adjustments, which struck me as gratuitous as it wasn't really aiding me. All part of the "helping" I assume.
03-06-2016
And why do the perps like to set up confusion over the correct time and date? It seems they screwed my watch into advancing a day when I set the time to Daylight Savings three days ago. And with half month paydays, the payroll person texted me as to my recent hours as I had been working off site. She asked for "yesterday's" time and I replied ("thinking", per erroneous watch setting), that it wasn't important as it was a day past the mid month, and that all she wanted was the 15th. All of this was abetted by no one at the winery this morning when I was there, as I wanted to enter my work hours on the wall posting inside. And too, abetted by the fact that I didn't "notice" that my phone had the date on it too, so I used my watch instead.
The perps pulled a similar stunt in late January when I returned from Victoria. They ran my battery powered room clock down, made it slow by 40 minutes, and of course I didn't notice until later when I got to the tanning salon earlier than expected. The assistant there didn't correct me on getting the time wrong on the phone and said something to the effect that she "knew what I meant".
Major PC mouse problems tonight, and a new mouse to boot. And after screaming at the assholes to back off they made it worse. Back to the thumb ball mouse, my long favorite as the base doesn't physically move, just the ball under my thumb. I suppose with this temporary replacement PC that came with a mouse and a keyboard, they want to re-introduce the components that I was using with the regular PC. Which suggests this keyboard is going to malfunction too, probably before the regular PC comes back.
And some TI suggested a few weeks ago that I get my keyboard fixed for whatever reason, maybe my comments weren't getting typed correctly, though I didn't notice. For the record, this new keyboard malfunctions in Blogger at about the same frequency as my more expensive Topre keyboard, now idled. That is, about every two weeks or so, the Shift characters don't come out correctly and there is nothing I can do about it. Hardly an adversity that would plague the perps.
03-17-2016
Most vineyard work today; tying down.That is laying down the canes that weren't pruned onto the horizontal wire and tying them down onto the trellis wire with a soft tie wire, usually at the ends to hold them fast. (The canes are also twisted, wound around the horizontal wire to better support them and the eventual load of grapes). All week the perps have been dropping the notion that the construction babe (at adjacent building site) would be interested in what I was doing and come have a look while I explained the process to her. I rejected this planted notion out of hand as why would she care anyhow? I don't talk to her much, or any of the construction personnel for that matter. Well, as it "happened", this did in fact occur today. She was moving some construction materials about four vine rows away and asked me if my (bare) hands were cold, which they were, but I didn't have a choice as the tying job requires fine motor control and gloves constantly get pinched. (Or at least they now do since 04-2002). She then asked what I was doing, and then came over to have a look while I showed her. So some face time with a cutie with gorgeous hair at the end of vine row.
Later the other vineyard helper came to rake the rows of vines, moving them into the aisle for the flail mower. After that there was a load of rock to unload from a pickup that he and I unloaded into buckets to be packed elsewhere. All exciting stuff for the perps, handling off site rock, that is, petrovoltaic activity and all. And all the while digging the rocks, they put on the dude yap nearby as a constant verbal background, as I didn't pick up much of what they were saying save the odd phrase.
03-18-2016
No true vineyard work today, but property maintenance work, which included power washing, always a major perp jerkaround activity. They made it memorable by arranging the hose to hang up on the muffler and burn a hole in it. Then this hole jetted a 6' spray of water for most of the job. Cute trick that, arranging for a burned hole in the hose so some water bypasses the nozzle of the power washer. And supplying the power washer with a gray hose, then linked to a black one, and then a blue one (the one that got burned) was no doubt a big factor in their relentless and insane fuckery over water delivery methods, materials and their respective colors.
03-19-2016
Saturday, and a pruning job with a different crew at a different vineyard. Three other women and two guys a nary a word of Punjabi. One couple was heavy into arm tattoos; each of them on both arms, wrist to forearm. Perhaps they are married for that reason. I got obvious gangstalk coverage when at row ends and breaks as they were each on their smart phones, looking at whatever. Then at the day's end they were clustered around my vehicle in the same mode. Though to be fair, one of them had a fitness app, and it seems we walked some 15km on the day.
It wasn't full pruning, as the cutting part of it had been done. All six of us were pulling the cut canes and all their tendrils wrapped around the wires (and other canes) from the wire trellis. Easier said than done, as it was hard work, very heavy on upper body strength. In all my past pruning, now four years worth, it was cut and pull, vine by vine. Today it was pull only, all vines. Quite the change to my past pruning practice.
And what was with the helicopter coverage today? At least 40 fly overs, nearly all originating from the SE and travelling NW, about every five minutes from the same hill. And different makes and models of helicopters doing the same thing on the same bearing. Excepting no EC-135's for some reason, normally one of their favorites. Though another of the perps' favorite, the A-Star came for some extended coverage on different bearings.They even had the light fixed wing aircraft flying the same bearing at times, once with a helicopter following at at respectable distance. That we were some 300m from a airport navigation tower, some 30m high, might have been something to do with it. Nearly all of the helicopter flights were crossing the glide/take off path of the Penticton airport. Pardon my aircraft control ignorance in advance, but I always thought that airport glide/take off paths were semi-sacred; you don't cut across them, especially over 40x in a morning.
03-20-2016
Sunday, and a whole day off.
I see that some asshole messed up my email responses to certain individuals, transposing the header of one to the other. Believe me, when I reply to a message, using the "Reply" button, I never manipulate the headers as the recipient would lose track of the message thread. As it so "happens" both messages were about stereo equipment of the same manufacturer, just different components (amp and tuner). And yet, when using the "Reply" button, somehow the header of one got transposed to the other. And why is it that some insane organized invasive agency has to mess with such trivial details to create confusion among my email recipients? (And me, momentarily). Not unlike the above confusion they seeded earlier this week (above) over the day of the week. Its the FUD (Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt) imperative again I suppose.
And I see the FUD games never cease. The above email recipient sends me an email with the content suggesting that he never got/read the email that I sent him, the latter email that was to relieve the confusion for crissakes. Related to this, I now see that the email to the other recipient never got sent as it is parked in the Drafts section when I swear I sent it. (I spent 4 days waiting for a reply). I resumed the thread after getting a "non reply", and again, this same recipient hasn't got back to me on selling this audio gear for three days. That was always the positive difference for me when visiting or living in the US; salespeople always got on with selling me what I wanted with dispatch. In Canada, it seems like a foot dragging exercise all too often, though in fact, the perps with their obsessive interest in all my financial transactions, just might be behind disrupting them, including aforementioned email disjuncts.
All of the above email criss-crossing and getting messages confused was accompanied in the multi-tasking world the perps so love, with a download music file purchase, and the normally proficient vendor delaying their purchase confirmation by 20 minutes. When working at my last office job, I could never understand why my email was getting delayed by 15 to 20 minutes while every one else seemed to be able to receive messages within a few seconds. And so it goes, another facet of perp fuckery; communication delays and disjuncts.
Time to call this done for the week; another shut-in day, save stepping outside to see if the perps killed all 12 of my potted sage plant shoots. There might be one that survived; we shall see.
One has to admire the perp's timing. Now income tax return time, and there are at least two I need to print because they are only online. And with my regular PC now in the shop for 2.5 months for a two week job, I purchased a small browser PC in its place. Ergo, no printer driver, and not that Windows 7 let me in it on either. Finally I get to figure out why it just sits there while I fume at it. No drivers at the HP site, and the HP software "Problem Solution" detects the HP932C printer OK, and then just sits there and does nothing. No driver it seems, not that it tells me either. Then the HP site suggests a Windows driver update, and it doesn't have my printer in the list, but goes away for an list update and doesn't come back. I had to kill it with Task Manager for crissakes. Even if printer drivers are years old, they generally work, so what is the deal?
Above hassle is also aided by not finding the advanced search in Google so I can limit the ancient results from the web search. Add in Firefox changing the interface and de-featuring it too, if not obstructing the features. And aforementioned Windows not finding the driver either. Like WTF; do I have to visit my PC in the shop and get the driver software from it? (Said PC has been there for three months for a two week job).
Another perp trick in the name of extending this driver hell is to block the Search box on driver download sites. This driver software obstruction is a serious minded harassment fuckover scene tonight.Then shit like this, and not the first time and only site this file cannot be found;
Not Found
The requested URL /pub/softlib/software12/COL50403/mp-122330-1/hppiw.exe was not found on this server.
What is going on that a single driver file is totally blocked out all over the internet, and not just at the corporate sites (one being the one who made the printer in the first place)?
03-14-2016
Pruning vines this afternoon at the site with the construction babe. I couldn't miss that figure each time I came to the end of the row, being on show IMHO.
Yoga tonight, and the one new dude who arrives ends up slipping into the room first, and lo, if he didn't place his mat in exactly the usual location I do. So I went to the back of the room and disrupted the regular order of mat placement there.The winsome tall girl ended up next to me, she of exquisite yoga skills, not unlike the tall girl of last year who doesn't come any more. The late comer in a red top who had been hounding me the last few sessions in the lobby ended up on my other side, and way to close, as I ended up flopping my hand onto her arm in a supine twist. Enough of that bullshit, so I moved my mat over 18" where there was plenty of extra room. Funny how that happens.
The yoga instructor doing adjustments, that is, aiding the student with touches and holds has got more interesting in perp terms. She doesn't explain what she is going to do, so hanging onto me while I do position changes seems a little odd. (Because normally, as I understand it, she would help with a single position). A few weeks ago she ran her hand down my spine after doing adjustments, which struck me as gratuitous as it wasn't really aiding me. All part of the "helping" I assume.
03-06-2016
And why do the perps like to set up confusion over the correct time and date? It seems they screwed my watch into advancing a day when I set the time to Daylight Savings three days ago. And with half month paydays, the payroll person texted me as to my recent hours as I had been working off site. She asked for "yesterday's" time and I replied ("thinking", per erroneous watch setting), that it wasn't important as it was a day past the mid month, and that all she wanted was the 15th. All of this was abetted by no one at the winery this morning when I was there, as I wanted to enter my work hours on the wall posting inside. And too, abetted by the fact that I didn't "notice" that my phone had the date on it too, so I used my watch instead.
The perps pulled a similar stunt in late January when I returned from Victoria. They ran my battery powered room clock down, made it slow by 40 minutes, and of course I didn't notice until later when I got to the tanning salon earlier than expected. The assistant there didn't correct me on getting the time wrong on the phone and said something to the effect that she "knew what I meant".
Major PC mouse problems tonight, and a new mouse to boot. And after screaming at the assholes to back off they made it worse. Back to the thumb ball mouse, my long favorite as the base doesn't physically move, just the ball under my thumb. I suppose with this temporary replacement PC that came with a mouse and a keyboard, they want to re-introduce the components that I was using with the regular PC. Which suggests this keyboard is going to malfunction too, probably before the regular PC comes back.
And some TI suggested a few weeks ago that I get my keyboard fixed for whatever reason, maybe my comments weren't getting typed correctly, though I didn't notice. For the record, this new keyboard malfunctions in Blogger at about the same frequency as my more expensive Topre keyboard, now idled. That is, about every two weeks or so, the Shift characters don't come out correctly and there is nothing I can do about it. Hardly an adversity that would plague the perps.
03-17-2016
Most vineyard work today; tying down.That is laying down the canes that weren't pruned onto the horizontal wire and tying them down onto the trellis wire with a soft tie wire, usually at the ends to hold them fast. (The canes are also twisted, wound around the horizontal wire to better support them and the eventual load of grapes). All week the perps have been dropping the notion that the construction babe (at adjacent building site) would be interested in what I was doing and come have a look while I explained the process to her. I rejected this planted notion out of hand as why would she care anyhow? I don't talk to her much, or any of the construction personnel for that matter. Well, as it "happened", this did in fact occur today. She was moving some construction materials about four vine rows away and asked me if my (bare) hands were cold, which they were, but I didn't have a choice as the tying job requires fine motor control and gloves constantly get pinched. (Or at least they now do since 04-2002). She then asked what I was doing, and then came over to have a look while I showed her. So some face time with a cutie with gorgeous hair at the end of vine row.
Later the other vineyard helper came to rake the rows of vines, moving them into the aisle for the flail mower. After that there was a load of rock to unload from a pickup that he and I unloaded into buckets to be packed elsewhere. All exciting stuff for the perps, handling off site rock, that is, petrovoltaic activity and all. And all the while digging the rocks, they put on the dude yap nearby as a constant verbal background, as I didn't pick up much of what they were saying save the odd phrase.
03-18-2016
No true vineyard work today, but property maintenance work, which included power washing, always a major perp jerkaround activity. They made it memorable by arranging the hose to hang up on the muffler and burn a hole in it. Then this hole jetted a 6' spray of water for most of the job. Cute trick that, arranging for a burned hole in the hose so some water bypasses the nozzle of the power washer. And supplying the power washer with a gray hose, then linked to a black one, and then a blue one (the one that got burned) was no doubt a big factor in their relentless and insane fuckery over water delivery methods, materials and their respective colors.
03-19-2016
Saturday, and a pruning job with a different crew at a different vineyard. Three other women and two guys a nary a word of Punjabi. One couple was heavy into arm tattoos; each of them on both arms, wrist to forearm. Perhaps they are married for that reason. I got obvious gangstalk coverage when at row ends and breaks as they were each on their smart phones, looking at whatever. Then at the day's end they were clustered around my vehicle in the same mode. Though to be fair, one of them had a fitness app, and it seems we walked some 15km on the day.
It wasn't full pruning, as the cutting part of it had been done. All six of us were pulling the cut canes and all their tendrils wrapped around the wires (and other canes) from the wire trellis. Easier said than done, as it was hard work, very heavy on upper body strength. In all my past pruning, now four years worth, it was cut and pull, vine by vine. Today it was pull only, all vines. Quite the change to my past pruning practice.
And what was with the helicopter coverage today? At least 40 fly overs, nearly all originating from the SE and travelling NW, about every five minutes from the same hill. And different makes and models of helicopters doing the same thing on the same bearing. Excepting no EC-135's for some reason, normally one of their favorites. Though another of the perps' favorite, the A-Star came for some extended coverage on different bearings.They even had the light fixed wing aircraft flying the same bearing at times, once with a helicopter following at at respectable distance. That we were some 300m from a airport navigation tower, some 30m high, might have been something to do with it. Nearly all of the helicopter flights were crossing the glide/take off path of the Penticton airport. Pardon my aircraft control ignorance in advance, but I always thought that airport glide/take off paths were semi-sacred; you don't cut across them, especially over 40x in a morning.
03-20-2016
Sunday, and a whole day off.
I see that some asshole messed up my email responses to certain individuals, transposing the header of one to the other. Believe me, when I reply to a message, using the "Reply" button, I never manipulate the headers as the recipient would lose track of the message thread. As it so "happens" both messages were about stereo equipment of the same manufacturer, just different components (amp and tuner). And yet, when using the "Reply" button, somehow the header of one got transposed to the other. And why is it that some insane organized invasive agency has to mess with such trivial details to create confusion among my email recipients? (And me, momentarily). Not unlike the above confusion they seeded earlier this week (above) over the day of the week. Its the FUD (Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt) imperative again I suppose.
And I see the FUD games never cease. The above email recipient sends me an email with the content suggesting that he never got/read the email that I sent him, the latter email that was to relieve the confusion for crissakes. Related to this, I now see that the email to the other recipient never got sent as it is parked in the Drafts section when I swear I sent it. (I spent 4 days waiting for a reply). I resumed the thread after getting a "non reply", and again, this same recipient hasn't got back to me on selling this audio gear for three days. That was always the positive difference for me when visiting or living in the US; salespeople always got on with selling me what I wanted with dispatch. In Canada, it seems like a foot dragging exercise all too often, though in fact, the perps with their obsessive interest in all my financial transactions, just might be behind disrupting them, including aforementioned email disjuncts.
All of the above email criss-crossing and getting messages confused was accompanied in the multi-tasking world the perps so love, with a download music file purchase, and the normally proficient vendor delaying their purchase confirmation by 20 minutes. When working at my last office job, I could never understand why my email was getting delayed by 15 to 20 minutes while every one else seemed to be able to receive messages within a few seconds. And so it goes, another facet of perp fuckery; communication delays and disjuncts.
Time to call this done for the week; another shut-in day, save stepping outside to see if the perps killed all 12 of my potted sage plant shoots. There might be one that survived; we shall see.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Buzzed Out Monday
10-15-2012
Mondays are almost always fraught with extra perp abuses and stunts. Today it was being in a cognitive fog for most of the day, and combined with not very much to do. Or at least, that was the planted perception. The Pinot Noir was happily gurgling away after I started in Friday, and even to the level of a cap forming that needed to be broken up and stirred in. No rotary fermenters here, just a paddle. The six acres of Pinot Blanc is to be picked this coming Thursday, which means picking will continue through the weekend. No big deal, as I don't have a whole lot to do then, save yoga.
And the perps have been interupting my yoga attendance, and then stacking the class with many extra Unfavored parties, and tripling the overall attendance. See the prior posting for what they were up to. Why cannot they leave me alone so I can do one thing consistently? They screwed me out of swimming with the swim club, they screwed me out of running, they screwed me out of going to the gym, and now once a week yoga is getting the planned interuptions. Even being on broadcast email gets interupted; they cut me off at least three vendors, and off KELB.
And a two day blocked toilet is still continuing, all "from" a mere half cup worth, and now it is blocked in a most peculiar way. Only the shredded toilet paper is in evidence besides the Liquid Plumber that isn't doing much this time. So I must bail it out into the bathtub to try again, as the perps had it nearly brimming with plain water and Liquid Plumber after each flush attempt. That, and a few other toilet habit modifications must be mighty exciting for them. And lo, immediately following changing my clothes, when a sudden crap "need" came on, and so I drive down to the mall as a shit refugee again. I thought this inane prank session was over after I moved to my own place, but no, they had to resume this abusive nonsense. And lo, if the three tone brown dressed creep wasn't there in the parking lot to lead me into the mall, doing his trademark "lookaway-at-nothing" head turn for me to see. And of course I wasn't allowed to recognize it as such, when it is a near daily feature of the gangstalkers. And lo, if there hadn't been a recent toilet flood, and for a change, it wasn't sprung on me. I got the kiddie dialog while on the throne, something that has been very consistent for these shit refugee events.
Last week's two time lead ahead vehicular gangstalker leading me for 5km or so on my way to work,"happened" to show up again this morning, doing a mid-street U-turn. A deeper toned silver-grey van lead me from two different starting locations last week, the latter one being coming from a parked situation and proceeding ahead of me for the majority of my 5km drive to work. And today he was nowhere near the last two originating locations, but instead, doing a U-turn ahead of me and coming the opposite direction. Funny how these supposed regular commuters can change their minds and track me down over differing start times in the morning.
Other vehicular gangstalking behavior that is new is a vehicle dropping out of the sequence, pulling over to the shoulder, and then rejoining the train immediately following another vehicle. Shuffling the serial sequence it would seem on this two lane arterial road. Eastside road for the locals. And I see that Google, or someone else, has buggered the map display so I cannot make a link from it.
And too, they are doing blasting and rock removal partway along this road; a great excuse for a "holdup" and having traffic wait and pass through using only one lane. Yet another rock/earth removal job that erupts along my routes or near my work. Funny how that has "happened" for decades. It just wasn't enough to do ashphalt patch jobs all summer long and have the Ironman triatheletes pass over them twice, bicycling and then running.
10-16-2012
The toilet made a mighty burp by itself last evening, and lo, if it didn't clear itself. More than a day of toilet obstruction, and if they want it blocked, it stays that way, no matter if it was just pee or toilet paper. To be fair, it did have at least two cups of liquid plumber in the bowl, so that would be the putative/conventional reason it cleared. After their shock-and-awe apartment invasion in 04-2002, one of the personnel who did arrive there after it was mostly over, put an inflated balloon into the toilet and flushed it so to obstruct it. As to why I let him do it I don't know, as I would of been pissed off if I had my own mind and wasn't in some kind of altered state. And ever since then, about 95% of the time, the toilet will block with solids in it, no matter how small a load.
A day off tomorrow, in advance of me working the weekend, as the grape picking will commence, with an expected crew of 12 or so. The boss says I will be busy and it will be long days. Having worked in past farm jobs some 100 to 110 hours in a two week pay period, I will reserve judgement. As one can discern, viticulture work is positively civilized compared to potato farming work.
10-17-2012
Wedesday, and I had to run a red wine sample that was in my fridge overnight to the wine lab. Needless to say, the red colored vehicles were all around me on my five minute drive, and the vehicular gangstalking was intense. Mind you, at 0820h, any town would be busy with school and work starting at 0900h.
It would seem the perps want food and objects in my fridge to go mulitple directions; lunch food (in me), and now to a business not too far away. As part of this, I suspect that eating apples, plums and table grapes directly from the plants when having lunch at the vineyard also suits the master plan of studying food energetics. Such food would not be subject to food handling by others, storage and transport and then display and purchase at a grocery store. Nothing new there, but comparing the two, in all its energetic and color interactions continues as part of this entire life abuse and harassment theater, now running over ten years. And just to think, the perps have had many millenia to figure this out, long before food handling practices evolved, and here they are putzing away, trashing my life and grinding me down to minimum wage jobs in agriculture, at best
And while out downtown, some apparent high school dudes larking and running about playing mock tag, and lo, if it wasn't in front of the very store I was headed. They had no conventional way of knowing that of course, as it was downtown with side by side stores for four blocks or so. I hadn't been to this store before either, going there based on my search results and loosely knowing (per mind fuck dithering of recall and knowledge aquisition). And of all things, both of what I was looking for was there; longer black laces for the shoes that were delivered in yesterday's parcel, and a small pump bottle of waterproofing compound for same.
And on the fourth time (very odd store hours and mind-fucked as to recalling them), I got lucky and the alterations woman was in her store front, though it was a cute setup. At first they plugged up the parking so I had to drive around the block with one vehicle ahead, and another behind me, then a dude with a camo cowboy hat was in loiter mode outside the shop. The alterations person has the door locked even if her shop was open, and when opening the door she "somehow" dropped a pin and then couldn't find it. Neat trick that, delaying entry through a door, which so often "happens" since this abuse was sprung on me. I get in the store with my two items for alterations, and lo, if she doesn't have a pair of men's shorts on the table in the same camoflage pattern as the now-gone cowboy stalker dude. Hilarious, as in NOT.
Then when back, I spray the waterproofing solution on the shoes outside, and lo, if the perps didn't arrange a helicopter to sit and hover in one place, about 400' overhead. Like WTF; I get countless passing helicopters, but this must of been a big event for them to have it remain in place overhead. The waterproofing solution took about 10 minutes to apply and clean up, and the navy blue and white helicopter was there for at least eight of them. Only one other time have they had a helicopter stop overhead, and that was when I was at a farm job, sitting much closer, maybe 100' from the ground, and all white.
After that, the "need" to sharpen three knives on my diamond grit sharpening stones came on, as it had been delayed for two weeks or more. I use a spray bottle of non-oxidizing water (a product addition) to spray on the sharpening stones as a lubricant to cause the metal particles to be washed away. So..., big excitement for the perp planners, using two different spray bottles, one just acquired and applied outside to the new shoes, and one year old spray bottle for the sharpening stones applied inside the suite. Normally, the latter has always been done inside, but "for some reason" I elected to use it inside (still sunny and warm today).
Another toilet blocking stunt began this morning, and with the additon of Liquid Plumber, it was finally resolved this evening. Ten years of this abusive inanity, and here they are, still hounding me over taking a crap.
10-18-2012
Back to vineyard work; picking botrytis afflicted grapes today, to save the regular pickers from selecting them tomorrow, when they start. The picking bins and pallets arrived by large semi-trailer truck, with a on-board forklift. Late in the afternoon, the owner got the forklift stuck in the gravel driveway. It started to bury the front wheel, the even tread tires not getting much traction. Even the tractor couldn't pull it out, and it buried its wheels too. Eventually, a tow truck came for $115 charge and got it out. And lo, if the end of my activities for the day didn't coinicide with the tow truck preceding me all the way into Pentiction, about 5 miles. Even more strange was the driver parking the tow truck at the far end of the property and then walked back some 100m to then deal with the bill at the house. Like WTF; why didn't he just park it close to the house once he pulled the forklift out, as that is where it got stuck. The perps had me load my vehicle and timed to see the tow truck driver coming toward me, to get the bill paid for. Then the perps reminded me they fucked me out of retrieving my pack in the house, so I had to go back and get it. This recall depletion stunt gave the tow truck driver a head start in departing, as he was at the gate, and I could then close it, rather than he. And lo, if I don't see him in profile (from the side), and he is sporting a ridiculous pony tail. Regular readers know I despise male ponytails, and male long hair, and yet the the perps keep up these antics. I have no idea how they know I might have abreactions over this kind of male hair, though it might fit the biker crowd, as it seems the perps like me to see and hear motorcycles all the time.
10-19-2012
A busy day in the vineyard, humpfing grape bins on and off the tractor. These are the empty ones in knockdown form, made of plywood. The side action was getting the winery supplies ordered, as the owner seemed reluctant to get on with it. I was dispatched to talk to the supplier rep, had the quote changed to reflect the newest reality of four bins of botrytised grapes, something we didn't plan on last week. This was over the phone, and it seemed that she could update the quote in real time, as she was online.
I told the owner about the order and the delivery options, one dependent on a 1030h cut-off time, (0830h then) and he decided to wait awhile, as he wanted to get the bins out in the vineyard. So... two hours later, he got engaged on the topic again, and had me complete the order, including using his business charge card. I phone the office, go over the quote, and lo, if the changes I made some two hours previously didn't get on the quote. So.. I go over that again, and finally deal with the delivery options, and it seemed the 1635h bus freight was the best. One item had to be cold packed as it is to be kept at a fridge temperature, and I was told they would utilized cold packs, which was "OK as long as it doesn't spend the night in the bus station" she said.
In the meantime, as part of this building scenario, the assholes cut me off the cellular network for my phone. The "solution" in the past was to pull the battery out and put it in again. It worked the last time. But not this time, and along with messing around with the protective case and taking it off again, why the battery had suddenly discharged all by itself. (I had charged it the night before, so there was no conventional reason it was dead). I was phoneless, and contact list-less as well. Very convenient when I want to pick up a parcel for someone else at the bus freight office and my name isn't on the papers.
I leave work a little early to pick up the order at the bus depot, but enroute I "decided" to go home first because of an imminent crap sensation. I do, shower after a sweaty day, and then look for the owner's phone number online, just in case I had to phone him from the bus freight office. I figured I had lots of time as the owner's wife said the bus depot was open until 1900h. After a series of web page crashes, I finally get the owner's phone number. I head off to the bus depot admidst a heavy vehicular gangstalking show, e.g three white vehicles in front of me and one silver grey. Many others were doing "pop outs", e.g. turning onto the thoroughfare in unison with another vehicle a block further. I get to the bus depot a 1700h and lo, if they aren't locked tight, closing at that same time. A couple of loafing camo dudes were outside, and a woman pretending to be a bus passenger also erupted ahead of me as I went around the building to find out if the freight office was open. But no, the whole place was closed. And so, a total skunk/jerkaround after being set up to retrieve this parcel for further winemaking activities tomorrow. My vehicular gangstalking posse was all over me for my return trip, and even the loafing dudes managed to show up again, two blocks away after I got held up in a vehicular cluster fuck.
And all that opened up the "FUD-gate" as they now inundate me with scenarios as to the fate of the cold packed items, along with that artfully prescient statement, "as long as it doesn't spend the night in the bus station". Thanks a fucking bunch you insane dicks.
10-20-2012
A busy day of harvesting grapes on the vineyard. Or more like it, the pickers were busy, and I was on bin drop off duty, then unused bin retrieval (so the tractor could get to the full bins unimpeded), and some winemaking planning. I picked up the winemaking supplies at the bus stop this morning, and took them to the vineyard. Apart from making up the malolactic fermentation starter culture, most of my time was spent in harvesting support. Fine with me, all part of the viticulture experience, and what I came here for.
And my Android phone is totally dead still, the battery pull-reboot didn't work, so now what? No pics of the grape harvest, or the contrails the idiots decided to perform. And not just the regular cloud lines spanning the horizons, but discontinuous contrails. It is my pet theory that the contrails aren't always a chemical application, e.g. "chemtrails", but serve the perp aims of color games in the sky, not unlike the much more dynamic vehicular gangstalking show I routinely get. And also, the striated plasma and maser beams that are much more fleeting. Not forgetting back in May when it was warm and sunny one Sunday, and I went to the beach to tan, and there was a huge amount of contrails crisscrossing the skies. And lo, if that evening, there wasn't a news story from the Vancouver network TV, which depicted many sky shots showing the same contrail patterns in the sky. So it would seem, the perps wanted a greater audience for viewing these same contrails than just the Penticton folks (and me). In other words, the perps use the media to get mass exposure to whatever their theme/research agenda is.
10-21-2012
A day of grape harvesting and then juicemaking; I got to handle the juice of the grapes I had just picked hours earlier, and then handle winemaking for the rest of the day. The 8 bins of Pinot Blanc were processed after the red grapes which were first thing. The big deal seemed to be about keeping me near the plastic bins and pipes while the grapes were being destemmmed and crushed. I also did my winemaker role, adding anti-oxidant to the Pinot Blanc, and pectic enzyme too.
I also added the malolactic ferment stater to the Pinot Noir, and lo, if the perps weren't up to their tricks again by placing 10"x1" long green colored plasma over the cap of the grapes when I took the lid off the fermenting vessel. This at least the second time in these same circumstances where they needed to have a green color over top of a deep red color. Exciting times in Perpvile for sure.
I have been working long days, and through this weekend, and working tomorrow too. I will post this without further ado and call this one done.
Mondays are almost always fraught with extra perp abuses and stunts. Today it was being in a cognitive fog for most of the day, and combined with not very much to do. Or at least, that was the planted perception. The Pinot Noir was happily gurgling away after I started in Friday, and even to the level of a cap forming that needed to be broken up and stirred in. No rotary fermenters here, just a paddle. The six acres of Pinot Blanc is to be picked this coming Thursday, which means picking will continue through the weekend. No big deal, as I don't have a whole lot to do then, save yoga.
And the perps have been interupting my yoga attendance, and then stacking the class with many extra Unfavored parties, and tripling the overall attendance. See the prior posting for what they were up to. Why cannot they leave me alone so I can do one thing consistently? They screwed me out of swimming with the swim club, they screwed me out of running, they screwed me out of going to the gym, and now once a week yoga is getting the planned interuptions. Even being on broadcast email gets interupted; they cut me off at least three vendors, and off KELB.
And a two day blocked toilet is still continuing, all "from" a mere half cup worth, and now it is blocked in a most peculiar way. Only the shredded toilet paper is in evidence besides the Liquid Plumber that isn't doing much this time. So I must bail it out into the bathtub to try again, as the perps had it nearly brimming with plain water and Liquid Plumber after each flush attempt. That, and a few other toilet habit modifications must be mighty exciting for them. And lo, immediately following changing my clothes, when a sudden crap "need" came on, and so I drive down to the mall as a shit refugee again. I thought this inane prank session was over after I moved to my own place, but no, they had to resume this abusive nonsense. And lo, if the three tone brown dressed creep wasn't there in the parking lot to lead me into the mall, doing his trademark "lookaway-at-nothing" head turn for me to see. And of course I wasn't allowed to recognize it as such, when it is a near daily feature of the gangstalkers. And lo, if there hadn't been a recent toilet flood, and for a change, it wasn't sprung on me. I got the kiddie dialog while on the throne, something that has been very consistent for these shit refugee events.
Last week's two time lead ahead vehicular gangstalker leading me for 5km or so on my way to work,"happened" to show up again this morning, doing a mid-street U-turn. A deeper toned silver-grey van lead me from two different starting locations last week, the latter one being coming from a parked situation and proceeding ahead of me for the majority of my 5km drive to work. And today he was nowhere near the last two originating locations, but instead, doing a U-turn ahead of me and coming the opposite direction. Funny how these supposed regular commuters can change their minds and track me down over differing start times in the morning.
Other vehicular gangstalking behavior that is new is a vehicle dropping out of the sequence, pulling over to the shoulder, and then rejoining the train immediately following another vehicle. Shuffling the serial sequence it would seem on this two lane arterial road. Eastside road for the locals. And I see that Google, or someone else, has buggered the map display so I cannot make a link from it.
And too, they are doing blasting and rock removal partway along this road; a great excuse for a "holdup" and having traffic wait and pass through using only one lane. Yet another rock/earth removal job that erupts along my routes or near my work. Funny how that has "happened" for decades. It just wasn't enough to do ashphalt patch jobs all summer long and have the Ironman triatheletes pass over them twice, bicycling and then running.
10-16-2012
The toilet made a mighty burp by itself last evening, and lo, if it didn't clear itself. More than a day of toilet obstruction, and if they want it blocked, it stays that way, no matter if it was just pee or toilet paper. To be fair, it did have at least two cups of liquid plumber in the bowl, so that would be the putative/conventional reason it cleared. After their shock-and-awe apartment invasion in 04-2002, one of the personnel who did arrive there after it was mostly over, put an inflated balloon into the toilet and flushed it so to obstruct it. As to why I let him do it I don't know, as I would of been pissed off if I had my own mind and wasn't in some kind of altered state. And ever since then, about 95% of the time, the toilet will block with solids in it, no matter how small a load.
A day off tomorrow, in advance of me working the weekend, as the grape picking will commence, with an expected crew of 12 or so. The boss says I will be busy and it will be long days. Having worked in past farm jobs some 100 to 110 hours in a two week pay period, I will reserve judgement. As one can discern, viticulture work is positively civilized compared to potato farming work.
10-17-2012
Wedesday, and I had to run a red wine sample that was in my fridge overnight to the wine lab. Needless to say, the red colored vehicles were all around me on my five minute drive, and the vehicular gangstalking was intense. Mind you, at 0820h, any town would be busy with school and work starting at 0900h.
It would seem the perps want food and objects in my fridge to go mulitple directions; lunch food (in me), and now to a business not too far away. As part of this, I suspect that eating apples, plums and table grapes directly from the plants when having lunch at the vineyard also suits the master plan of studying food energetics. Such food would not be subject to food handling by others, storage and transport and then display and purchase at a grocery store. Nothing new there, but comparing the two, in all its energetic and color interactions continues as part of this entire life abuse and harassment theater, now running over ten years. And just to think, the perps have had many millenia to figure this out, long before food handling practices evolved, and here they are putzing away, trashing my life and grinding me down to minimum wage jobs in agriculture, at best
And while out downtown, some apparent high school dudes larking and running about playing mock tag, and lo, if it wasn't in front of the very store I was headed. They had no conventional way of knowing that of course, as it was downtown with side by side stores for four blocks or so. I hadn't been to this store before either, going there based on my search results and loosely knowing (per mind fuck dithering of recall and knowledge aquisition). And of all things, both of what I was looking for was there; longer black laces for the shoes that were delivered in yesterday's parcel, and a small pump bottle of waterproofing compound for same.
And on the fourth time (very odd store hours and mind-fucked as to recalling them), I got lucky and the alterations woman was in her store front, though it was a cute setup. At first they plugged up the parking so I had to drive around the block with one vehicle ahead, and another behind me, then a dude with a camo cowboy hat was in loiter mode outside the shop. The alterations person has the door locked even if her shop was open, and when opening the door she "somehow" dropped a pin and then couldn't find it. Neat trick that, delaying entry through a door, which so often "happens" since this abuse was sprung on me. I get in the store with my two items for alterations, and lo, if she doesn't have a pair of men's shorts on the table in the same camoflage pattern as the now-gone cowboy stalker dude. Hilarious, as in NOT.
Then when back, I spray the waterproofing solution on the shoes outside, and lo, if the perps didn't arrange a helicopter to sit and hover in one place, about 400' overhead. Like WTF; I get countless passing helicopters, but this must of been a big event for them to have it remain in place overhead. The waterproofing solution took about 10 minutes to apply and clean up, and the navy blue and white helicopter was there for at least eight of them. Only one other time have they had a helicopter stop overhead, and that was when I was at a farm job, sitting much closer, maybe 100' from the ground, and all white.
After that, the "need" to sharpen three knives on my diamond grit sharpening stones came on, as it had been delayed for two weeks or more. I use a spray bottle of non-oxidizing water (a product addition) to spray on the sharpening stones as a lubricant to cause the metal particles to be washed away. So..., big excitement for the perp planners, using two different spray bottles, one just acquired and applied outside to the new shoes, and one year old spray bottle for the sharpening stones applied inside the suite. Normally, the latter has always been done inside, but "for some reason" I elected to use it inside (still sunny and warm today).
Another toilet blocking stunt began this morning, and with the additon of Liquid Plumber, it was finally resolved this evening. Ten years of this abusive inanity, and here they are, still hounding me over taking a crap.
10-18-2012
Back to vineyard work; picking botrytis afflicted grapes today, to save the regular pickers from selecting them tomorrow, when they start. The picking bins and pallets arrived by large semi-trailer truck, with a on-board forklift. Late in the afternoon, the owner got the forklift stuck in the gravel driveway. It started to bury the front wheel, the even tread tires not getting much traction. Even the tractor couldn't pull it out, and it buried its wheels too. Eventually, a tow truck came for $115 charge and got it out. And lo, if the end of my activities for the day didn't coinicide with the tow truck preceding me all the way into Pentiction, about 5 miles. Even more strange was the driver parking the tow truck at the far end of the property and then walked back some 100m to then deal with the bill at the house. Like WTF; why didn't he just park it close to the house once he pulled the forklift out, as that is where it got stuck. The perps had me load my vehicle and timed to see the tow truck driver coming toward me, to get the bill paid for. Then the perps reminded me they fucked me out of retrieving my pack in the house, so I had to go back and get it. This recall depletion stunt gave the tow truck driver a head start in departing, as he was at the gate, and I could then close it, rather than he. And lo, if I don't see him in profile (from the side), and he is sporting a ridiculous pony tail. Regular readers know I despise male ponytails, and male long hair, and yet the the perps keep up these antics. I have no idea how they know I might have abreactions over this kind of male hair, though it might fit the biker crowd, as it seems the perps like me to see and hear motorcycles all the time.
10-19-2012
A busy day in the vineyard, humpfing grape bins on and off the tractor. These are the empty ones in knockdown form, made of plywood. The side action was getting the winery supplies ordered, as the owner seemed reluctant to get on with it. I was dispatched to talk to the supplier rep, had the quote changed to reflect the newest reality of four bins of botrytised grapes, something we didn't plan on last week. This was over the phone, and it seemed that she could update the quote in real time, as she was online.
I told the owner about the order and the delivery options, one dependent on a 1030h cut-off time, (0830h then) and he decided to wait awhile, as he wanted to get the bins out in the vineyard. So... two hours later, he got engaged on the topic again, and had me complete the order, including using his business charge card. I phone the office, go over the quote, and lo, if the changes I made some two hours previously didn't get on the quote. So.. I go over that again, and finally deal with the delivery options, and it seemed the 1635h bus freight was the best. One item had to be cold packed as it is to be kept at a fridge temperature, and I was told they would utilized cold packs, which was "OK as long as it doesn't spend the night in the bus station" she said.
In the meantime, as part of this building scenario, the assholes cut me off the cellular network for my phone. The "solution" in the past was to pull the battery out and put it in again. It worked the last time. But not this time, and along with messing around with the protective case and taking it off again, why the battery had suddenly discharged all by itself. (I had charged it the night before, so there was no conventional reason it was dead). I was phoneless, and contact list-less as well. Very convenient when I want to pick up a parcel for someone else at the bus freight office and my name isn't on the papers.
I leave work a little early to pick up the order at the bus depot, but enroute I "decided" to go home first because of an imminent crap sensation. I do, shower after a sweaty day, and then look for the owner's phone number online, just in case I had to phone him from the bus freight office. I figured I had lots of time as the owner's wife said the bus depot was open until 1900h. After a series of web page crashes, I finally get the owner's phone number. I head off to the bus depot admidst a heavy vehicular gangstalking show, e.g three white vehicles in front of me and one silver grey. Many others were doing "pop outs", e.g. turning onto the thoroughfare in unison with another vehicle a block further. I get to the bus depot a 1700h and lo, if they aren't locked tight, closing at that same time. A couple of loafing camo dudes were outside, and a woman pretending to be a bus passenger also erupted ahead of me as I went around the building to find out if the freight office was open. But no, the whole place was closed. And so, a total skunk/jerkaround after being set up to retrieve this parcel for further winemaking activities tomorrow. My vehicular gangstalking posse was all over me for my return trip, and even the loafing dudes managed to show up again, two blocks away after I got held up in a vehicular cluster fuck.
And all that opened up the "FUD-gate" as they now inundate me with scenarios as to the fate of the cold packed items, along with that artfully prescient statement, "as long as it doesn't spend the night in the bus station". Thanks a fucking bunch you insane dicks.
10-20-2012
A busy day of harvesting grapes on the vineyard. Or more like it, the pickers were busy, and I was on bin drop off duty, then unused bin retrieval (so the tractor could get to the full bins unimpeded), and some winemaking planning. I picked up the winemaking supplies at the bus stop this morning, and took them to the vineyard. Apart from making up the malolactic fermentation starter culture, most of my time was spent in harvesting support. Fine with me, all part of the viticulture experience, and what I came here for.
And my Android phone is totally dead still, the battery pull-reboot didn't work, so now what? No pics of the grape harvest, or the contrails the idiots decided to perform. And not just the regular cloud lines spanning the horizons, but discontinuous contrails. It is my pet theory that the contrails aren't always a chemical application, e.g. "chemtrails", but serve the perp aims of color games in the sky, not unlike the much more dynamic vehicular gangstalking show I routinely get. And also, the striated plasma and maser beams that are much more fleeting. Not forgetting back in May when it was warm and sunny one Sunday, and I went to the beach to tan, and there was a huge amount of contrails crisscrossing the skies. And lo, if that evening, there wasn't a news story from the Vancouver network TV, which depicted many sky shots showing the same contrail patterns in the sky. So it would seem, the perps wanted a greater audience for viewing these same contrails than just the Penticton folks (and me). In other words, the perps use the media to get mass exposure to whatever their theme/research agenda is.
10-21-2012
A day of grape harvesting and then juicemaking; I got to handle the juice of the grapes I had just picked hours earlier, and then handle winemaking for the rest of the day. The 8 bins of Pinot Blanc were processed after the red grapes which were first thing. The big deal seemed to be about keeping me near the plastic bins and pipes while the grapes were being destemmmed and crushed. I also did my winemaker role, adding anti-oxidant to the Pinot Blanc, and pectic enzyme too.
I also added the malolactic ferment stater to the Pinot Noir, and lo, if the perps weren't up to their tricks again by placing 10"x1" long green colored plasma over the cap of the grapes when I took the lid off the fermenting vessel. This at least the second time in these same circumstances where they needed to have a green color over top of a deep red color. Exciting times in Perpvile for sure.
I have been working long days, and through this weekend, and working tomorrow too. I will post this without further ado and call this one done.
Saturday, January 07, 2012
Old Stunts in a New Location
1300h
Time to do a regular blog where I have all day to natter and drop comments as the abuse is unloaded over the day. The last 8 weeks were very much in blogable limbo with taking an evening time job, using my perp abetting mother's vehicle each day to commute, then awakening at at her place and then attending to packing and getting myself moved out from the Victoria apartment that I resided in for almost four years, a relative adult lifetime record in terms of perp containment of my residence location. Much of the minimum wage income was to support the new-found "need" to order clothing and footwear from SierraTradingPost, the big discount web site, once mail order. Although I didn't intend it, I see I ended up with some ski-wear, "thinking" it was for the colder climes of this new-to-me town of Penticton, BC, where I about to start a full time, three month long, viticulture laborer course in two days. There is a downhill and cross country ski area some 40 km away, so perhaps I will end up with a ski-pal this winter. Sliding at speed on plastic boards on a frozen water surface just has to be a total perp created scene to remotely detect the earth's energetics and whatever else they are doing to TI's, and likely too, a larger covertly covered/surveilled population.
And yes, all the familiar gangstalking trappings are here too; the citizens of Penticton have been duly groomed on how to keeps one's mouth hanging open, course (or obstruct) around me, attempt to pass me on my right side and otherwise look stupid in public, especially when wearing shorts (in this colder clime), a red coat, hat or shoes. The vehicular gangstalking is in evidence, but not so heavy yet, allowing me to make sudden lane changes as I go about discovering the routes in town. Yesterday was my first full day here, and I did grocery shopping in three stores and visited at least four more to get the missing items this motel room needed, a dishes drain mat and a plug for the bathroom sink. These are regular harassment items that seem to be of substantial portent to the perps, and have also been problematic in past moves.
In the 2006 move, they had me chuck out the dishes drain mat when the movers prematurely fucked off on me after I had told them to wait because there were more boxes to be retrieved. And lo, if they hadn't taken off, leaving me the impossible choice to walk these boxes some 6 blocks as I was vehicle-less by then. So..., some of the items were left behind, and lo, if the usually locked garbage room door wasn't open, so I could chuck the heavy and awkward items into the dumpster, one of which was the dishes drain mat. And lo, if I didn't have a replacement purchased some month's previously, in some kind of imposed mindfuck fuge, noticed only post purchase of course. About six months ago at the Victoria Chelsea apartment location, the white nonporous dishes drain mat got too red colored, ostensibly from unremovable and over-active algae, that I replaced it with a translucent dishes drain mat. This one somehow remained algae impervious, and had a slightly steeper slope to it, but it was left behind in the packing, "thinking" that there would be one in the kitchenette of this motel unit. Alas, there wasn't, and the management hasn't been answering my phone calls, so it was more expeditious to purchase a cheap one from the dollar store. And so, a blue plastic dishes drain mate now, with a hump in the middle of it for crissakes, all to create water drainage ponding at each end of it. And I see it has a missing corner on it, an telekinetic eruption since I purchased it. And somehow I "forgot" all the past travails of the dishes drain mats of past locations and purchased this particular bright blue one. And one has to ask what is so important to the perps about dishes drain mats that they put me through this utter nonsense so often, but I cannot offer a definitive answer, except to note that they are totally beserk over the colors and materials of everything I see, touch, or is proximate.
Then there is the continuing hassle over drain plugs, a soft white rubber kind that I had to procure for the last apartment, somehow getting the size wrong and to go through the process twice in two days. Said white colored plug turned orangish in a few months, and stayed that way for the remaining near-four years. The new drain plug in the bathroom sink I aquired yesterday seems to work, and hasn't "gone wrong" (read, sabotage) yet. The absence of a plug forced me into a disrupted shaving situation, running the water each time I applied the soaked face cloth to a new region in advance of shaving it. Only face and a frontal shave were done, the arms were not, an exception to this new "habit" started some six months ago. The last month has been one of shaving disruption, awakening at the FFF house and then going to my downtown apartment to shave there, in advance of undertaking packing duties. Needless to say, shaving has been a significant perp interest since they started the overt abuse in 04-2002, and no end of combinations and permutations of this normally daily occurence has been sufficient for them to back off on the stunts and games that attend shaving. l
Today was shaping up to be a shut-in day, but they did let me out just as a snowfall was coming on to visit the local greengrocer store and see if it make the grade in being considered for a regular visitation basis. No, it didn't, even if the gangstalking was removed. One blonde woman was on my ass for five reprise gangstalkings and they even put her doppelganger in the parking lot as I exited; same long black puffy down coat, same height and comportment as the one in the store whom I left behind. Simply stunning as to the lengths the assholes will go to.
Some perp planned unique arrangements in this motel unit that I am residing in; no one over top of me to make noise from above, a rare break in the action. But I notice that the downstairs wall sharing apartment dwellers have a knack for slamming their door to create a vibration that travels upwards to my feet while doing my morning time bathroom routine. The most unusual configuration of this motel unit is that it sits above a parking area directly below, and where vehicles can pass underneath. That my mother's vehicle sits below me under this floor as I type this is certainly par for the perps and their all-possible juxtaposition games, and it might save them running a vehicle into a building somewhere on their shitlist of human abuse games they seem to apply regularly.
And yesterday's hassle of attempting to get connected via the "free" (read, surveilled) wi-fi internet in this motel is still playing out. I had to make three trips to the LD store in town, the last in the evening to get a wi-fi adaptor as they screwed me into "thinking" that a wi-fi router was the needed item. A call to Netgear, after some inquisition on my part, determined that I had the wrong device altogether. I got the router from Newegg, and today when considering a return, why, the RMA process links have been removed from my web page, so I cannot return it. As it was a $80 purchase, I am roundly pissed that the assholes put me through the inanity of getting the wrong device, supported with incorrect graphics and product descriptions, and now are obstructing me in attempting to get it returned.
And I see a little local "activity" in the form of an accident, and timed the same of me driving to this new town, though S. of my route by 30 miles or so. Why, a boulder came down a cliff and smacked the vehicle, narrowly missing the occupants. Yep, more coincidences, in the form of rocks-human interaction, this time in the thought-to-be safe world of a moving vehicle. And surely the murder rate will also increase too, another form of getting localized blood samples in combination with the ground they once walked on.
2250h
Back to harassment reality; an attempt to watch the hockey game on TV tonight turned into a farce with outside loud mufflered vehicle noise ramping up to cause me to plug my ears. And we aren't talking about vehicles passing by, but ones that persist for five minutes straight, keeping the noisescape on for far longer than ever before. Same noise though, this town having muffler noise compatibility with the last town. Funny how muffler noise can erupt province wide, and too, coincidently erupt as I type this. Regular readers will know that there are no coincidences, along with readers of Dr. John C Lily and his determination of the Earth Coincidence Control Office. I still don't have a handle on just what it is that the perps are on about with coincidence orchestration.
And just like before, I get plenty of plasma and maser flashes, as in all the time, not even a second passes without extra conventional visual perturbations. In the last 6 weeks or so, the most unusual maser eruption was when doing the job orientation for the forest seedling nursery job, and after reading the supplied material, the boss addressed us, and worked through the items, and he seemingly "forgot" what the break times were, (6:30 and 9:30), and he said it was 9:00 and I knew this to be incorrect having read the document As this realization came on, why, a black 1/2" fuzzy maser ball came in from outside, through the insulated translucent plastic wall, just past the back of his head and then came towards me. As there were over 30 people assembled, one would think someone would mention it, or point at the maser ball as it took three seconds or so on its 50' path, but no.
And in keeping with the business owner gangstalking, on this same orientation shift the owner of the business came to "help", in his black ski-wear of all things, and I saw him only once more there after (six weeks of M-F work).
2300h
An hour long phone call with one of my former farm worker colleagues tonight, she phoning me and complaining about her Mexican farm-worker pal bailing out on her, and not staying the night. Hmm, I don't think I am the right person to help her out, but all I know is that if someone is going strange on me I don't want them around any more. I wonder why the perps want me to be put through this, having someone go wierd on me for no seeming rational cause.
Back in the pre-overt harassment days of 1999 to 2002, Ms. C would pull these stunts, drama shows I called them, and had me bailing out on her; emotionally at least, and physically too if the arranged (in hindsight) conflict got too heated. We had our rows to be sure, and for the two or three seeming friends who managed to get me to tell them these tales, they each seemed to have a knowing smirk as I recounted her drama stunts. I couldn't figure that one out, though I did not have any idea then that this was all arranged and also these elicitations of me telling the story.
Anyhow, it is late, and I am going to call this one done for today.
Time to do a regular blog where I have all day to natter and drop comments as the abuse is unloaded over the day. The last 8 weeks were very much in blogable limbo with taking an evening time job, using my perp abetting mother's vehicle each day to commute, then awakening at at her place and then attending to packing and getting myself moved out from the Victoria apartment that I resided in for almost four years, a relative adult lifetime record in terms of perp containment of my residence location. Much of the minimum wage income was to support the new-found "need" to order clothing and footwear from SierraTradingPost, the big discount web site, once mail order. Although I didn't intend it, I see I ended up with some ski-wear, "thinking" it was for the colder climes of this new-to-me town of Penticton, BC, where I about to start a full time, three month long, viticulture laborer course in two days. There is a downhill and cross country ski area some 40 km away, so perhaps I will end up with a ski-pal this winter. Sliding at speed on plastic boards on a frozen water surface just has to be a total perp created scene to remotely detect the earth's energetics and whatever else they are doing to TI's, and likely too, a larger covertly covered/surveilled population.
And yes, all the familiar gangstalking trappings are here too; the citizens of Penticton have been duly groomed on how to keeps one's mouth hanging open, course (or obstruct) around me, attempt to pass me on my right side and otherwise look stupid in public, especially when wearing shorts (in this colder clime), a red coat, hat or shoes. The vehicular gangstalking is in evidence, but not so heavy yet, allowing me to make sudden lane changes as I go about discovering the routes in town. Yesterday was my first full day here, and I did grocery shopping in three stores and visited at least four more to get the missing items this motel room needed, a dishes drain mat and a plug for the bathroom sink. These are regular harassment items that seem to be of substantial portent to the perps, and have also been problematic in past moves.
In the 2006 move, they had me chuck out the dishes drain mat when the movers prematurely fucked off on me after I had told them to wait because there were more boxes to be retrieved. And lo, if they hadn't taken off, leaving me the impossible choice to walk these boxes some 6 blocks as I was vehicle-less by then. So..., some of the items were left behind, and lo, if the usually locked garbage room door wasn't open, so I could chuck the heavy and awkward items into the dumpster, one of which was the dishes drain mat. And lo, if I didn't have a replacement purchased some month's previously, in some kind of imposed mindfuck fuge, noticed only post purchase of course. About six months ago at the Victoria Chelsea apartment location, the white nonporous dishes drain mat got too red colored, ostensibly from unremovable and over-active algae, that I replaced it with a translucent dishes drain mat. This one somehow remained algae impervious, and had a slightly steeper slope to it, but it was left behind in the packing, "thinking" that there would be one in the kitchenette of this motel unit. Alas, there wasn't, and the management hasn't been answering my phone calls, so it was more expeditious to purchase a cheap one from the dollar store. And so, a blue plastic dishes drain mate now, with a hump in the middle of it for crissakes, all to create water drainage ponding at each end of it. And I see it has a missing corner on it, an telekinetic eruption since I purchased it. And somehow I "forgot" all the past travails of the dishes drain mats of past locations and purchased this particular bright blue one. And one has to ask what is so important to the perps about dishes drain mats that they put me through this utter nonsense so often, but I cannot offer a definitive answer, except to note that they are totally beserk over the colors and materials of everything I see, touch, or is proximate.
Then there is the continuing hassle over drain plugs, a soft white rubber kind that I had to procure for the last apartment, somehow getting the size wrong and to go through the process twice in two days. Said white colored plug turned orangish in a few months, and stayed that way for the remaining near-four years. The new drain plug in the bathroom sink I aquired yesterday seems to work, and hasn't "gone wrong" (read, sabotage) yet. The absence of a plug forced me into a disrupted shaving situation, running the water each time I applied the soaked face cloth to a new region in advance of shaving it. Only face and a frontal shave were done, the arms were not, an exception to this new "habit" started some six months ago. The last month has been one of shaving disruption, awakening at the FFF house and then going to my downtown apartment to shave there, in advance of undertaking packing duties. Needless to say, shaving has been a significant perp interest since they started the overt abuse in 04-2002, and no end of combinations and permutations of this normally daily occurence has been sufficient for them to back off on the stunts and games that attend shaving. l
Today was shaping up to be a shut-in day, but they did let me out just as a snowfall was coming on to visit the local greengrocer store and see if it make the grade in being considered for a regular visitation basis. No, it didn't, even if the gangstalking was removed. One blonde woman was on my ass for five reprise gangstalkings and they even put her doppelganger in the parking lot as I exited; same long black puffy down coat, same height and comportment as the one in the store whom I left behind. Simply stunning as to the lengths the assholes will go to.
Some perp planned unique arrangements in this motel unit that I am residing in; no one over top of me to make noise from above, a rare break in the action. But I notice that the downstairs wall sharing apartment dwellers have a knack for slamming their door to create a vibration that travels upwards to my feet while doing my morning time bathroom routine. The most unusual configuration of this motel unit is that it sits above a parking area directly below, and where vehicles can pass underneath. That my mother's vehicle sits below me under this floor as I type this is certainly par for the perps and their all-possible juxtaposition games, and it might save them running a vehicle into a building somewhere on their shitlist of human abuse games they seem to apply regularly.
And yesterday's hassle of attempting to get connected via the "free" (read, surveilled) wi-fi internet in this motel is still playing out. I had to make three trips to the LD store in town, the last in the evening to get a wi-fi adaptor as they screwed me into "thinking" that a wi-fi router was the needed item. A call to Netgear, after some inquisition on my part, determined that I had the wrong device altogether. I got the router from Newegg, and today when considering a return, why, the RMA process links have been removed from my web page, so I cannot return it. As it was a $80 purchase, I am roundly pissed that the assholes put me through the inanity of getting the wrong device, supported with incorrect graphics and product descriptions, and now are obstructing me in attempting to get it returned.
And I see a little local "activity" in the form of an accident, and timed the same of me driving to this new town, though S. of my route by 30 miles or so. Why, a boulder came down a cliff and smacked the vehicle, narrowly missing the occupants. Yep, more coincidences, in the form of rocks-human interaction, this time in the thought-to-be safe world of a moving vehicle. And surely the murder rate will also increase too, another form of getting localized blood samples in combination with the ground they once walked on.
2250h
Back to harassment reality; an attempt to watch the hockey game on TV tonight turned into a farce with outside loud mufflered vehicle noise ramping up to cause me to plug my ears. And we aren't talking about vehicles passing by, but ones that persist for five minutes straight, keeping the noisescape on for far longer than ever before. Same noise though, this town having muffler noise compatibility with the last town. Funny how muffler noise can erupt province wide, and too, coincidently erupt as I type this. Regular readers will know that there are no coincidences, along with readers of Dr. John C Lily and his determination of the Earth Coincidence Control Office. I still don't have a handle on just what it is that the perps are on about with coincidence orchestration.
And just like before, I get plenty of plasma and maser flashes, as in all the time, not even a second passes without extra conventional visual perturbations. In the last 6 weeks or so, the most unusual maser eruption was when doing the job orientation for the forest seedling nursery job, and after reading the supplied material, the boss addressed us, and worked through the items, and he seemingly "forgot" what the break times were, (6:30 and 9:30), and he said it was 9:00 and I knew this to be incorrect having read the document As this realization came on, why, a black 1/2" fuzzy maser ball came in from outside, through the insulated translucent plastic wall, just past the back of his head and then came towards me. As there were over 30 people assembled, one would think someone would mention it, or point at the maser ball as it took three seconds or so on its 50' path, but no.
And in keeping with the business owner gangstalking, on this same orientation shift the owner of the business came to "help", in his black ski-wear of all things, and I saw him only once more there after (six weeks of M-F work).
2300h
An hour long phone call with one of my former farm worker colleagues tonight, she phoning me and complaining about her Mexican farm-worker pal bailing out on her, and not staying the night. Hmm, I don't think I am the right person to help her out, but all I know is that if someone is going strange on me I don't want them around any more. I wonder why the perps want me to be put through this, having someone go wierd on me for no seeming rational cause.
Back in the pre-overt harassment days of 1999 to 2002, Ms. C would pull these stunts, drama shows I called them, and had me bailing out on her; emotionally at least, and physically too if the arranged (in hindsight) conflict got too heated. We had our rows to be sure, and for the two or three seeming friends who managed to get me to tell them these tales, they each seemed to have a knowing smirk as I recounted her drama stunts. I couldn't figure that one out, though I did not have any idea then that this was all arranged and also these elicitations of me telling the story.
Anyhow, it is late, and I am going to call this one done for today.
Friday, March 05, 2010
Petrovoltaic Stone Mason
2125h
A rare day when the perps let me out to do something new, and didn't frustrate me at every turn, only every other turn. This was the event of building a 8' long wall some 3' high and tie it into the remaining wall that didn'f fall down this winter. This is at my in-town brother's place, he putting on this constant act of loathing house and property maintenance when he is a die hard garage sale wheeler and dealer. In his day job he works at a hospital to clean and prepare all the surgery equipment. And he gets seven weeks of annual vacation because of his seniority there. But he is a strange case; job loathing but not doing anything about it, and constantly complains about the vagaries of garage sales, his obsessive hobby. So when it comes to house and property maintenance, I get the call if it fits the perps' objectives of course.
The plant pruning certainly does, as they were all over me with noise at the moment of severing the excessive branches, and once my brother even timed his squirrel abatement activity to the moment I was cutting a branch off nearby. But today, it was on to masonary, playing with motar mix and pre-mixed concrete, and regular readers will know that the perps are plenty beserk about these products and placing them around me, including putting gangstalking redi-mix trucks through downtown to "join me". They love to have me witness major public construction road works and the like, to have me there for a big pour day along with the concrete finishers. And then have me walk on fresh but firm concrete a day or so later, and keep me walking on these surfaces, in some cases for over three years. There are many sections of public sidewalks that get dug up for no seeming reason, 4' or so to 20', sometimes with more than one pour, or perhaps, source of concrete. They also like to arrange "grind downs", where the concrete edges have lifted, and the surface is levelled by grinding down the raised edges.
So...., making up concrete from the bags got me extra noise attention today, but my in-town brother was "hanging around", smashing old mortar off the rocks of the former wall section, and then had to answer a cell phone call and then circulate around me while I was mixing concrete, pacing around and circling me, just like a downtown gangstalker. As there are plenty of EMF signals with an cell phone transmissions, and that the perps are keeping me in a densified magnetic field (over 1600 Gauss), it is important for them to have cell phoning Fuckwits posted around me, especially for big events (for them) like entering or exiting buildings, moving from room to room, and when the bus is turning corners. I reckon that cell phones are good for the asshole's electromagnetic investigation games, as well as whatever reaction one has from whatever they do to the LCD displays on cell phone, just like on this here PC. There is something that comes off LCD displays that is of use to the perps, as they will often have a Fuckwit standing in mid aisle or nearby on the bus, just looking at the screen on the cell phone. Or else, in more limited ways, do the same with the laptop, having them open and active two seats next to when on the bus.
I have never built a rock wall before, but as we had gathered the rocks two days ago, I reckon the perps convinced my brother that I was up for the job. Why else would he hand this task over to me when I am totally inexperienced? Over the course of six hours I had made a passable foundation of rock bedded in by mortar, and had poured concrete into a gouge in the bedrock to level it up. I asked my brother to put in a stringline for where he wanted the wall, but by the time that I had need of it he had strung it skewed, so it was useless to me. But useful for the perps to have a brown string just over my head and then brown vertical string as well. Regular readers will know how much the perps covert having brown things around, me, but not worn by me, and the rest of their beserk fascination with all things brown, especially when in the bathroom.
I used my new gloves for the rock wall job, as the other pair I keep at my brothers has been trashed by someone cutting holes in two fingers of the left hand. This new pair is of the same type of yellow leather, but with black stretchy panels on the backs of the hands. And I should not of been too surprised to find that the gloves, likely via the perps, had made my hands yellow from "dye bleed off" by the end of the day. This then fed the Fuckwit Frenzy at the bus stop. I arrived at the bus stop at 1700h, just missing one because of the traffic light timing. within five minutes, five Fuckwits had arrived at the bus stop, mouths agape, bald head on display, or otherwise seeming totally odd. One had a yellow shirt on and was determined to step into the center of the sidewalk and block my view of any oncoming buses. And he seemed also determined to block the sunlight as well, until I leaned forward and put an end to that bullshit. After waiting some eight minutes for a bus, another Fuckwit arrives with a folded yellow T-shirt in hand, coming closer that the yellow shirted Fuckwit. And that was the signal it was time to go, and walk back into town, as waiting for a fucking bus turns into a sicko feeding event, color coordinated to the dye they put on my hands.
A forty minute walk into town didn't ensure that I was Freak Free (aka gangstalker) by any means, as there were all manner of weirds stationed at the bus stops when walking past, but at least I didn't have to deal with their fucking stake-out games. The perps don't normally let me do much exercise, especially running and walking, as it seems they cannot get enough of their irradiation fuckery on me while moving. Sure enough, when I get back to my apartment and onto this PC, some kind of vision buggering irradiation is coming off this LCD panel, just like in the days when they did let me out for extensive (greater than 30 minutes) of walking. Back then, 2006 and 2008, after each walking outing, they would hammer me with some kind of eye-buggering irradiation off the LCD panel, as it seems that exercise has a dissapative effect, as well as they cannot measure me accurately when I am moving. The stopped me running in 2003, as presumably that presented even more technical challenges for the Fuckwits.
It was interesting to note the noisestalking timing today while rock wall building. Anytime rocks were grinding or binding was a big deal for the assholes by adding more noise, the reasons noted in the recent blog posting, introducing the concept of petrovoltaics, rock sourced electromagnetics, which isn't new, it is just that it also likely serves the perps' agenda, as they like me to be exposed to soil and rock diggings as much as they can arrange. (wikipedia has it as petravoltaics, misspelled). And to have me get rocks from one location and place them on bedrock at another location is just too exciting for them. And to add mortar mix and cement into the picture, and then to have me later walk home for 40 minutes on all kinds of new streetwork poured concrete surfaces, why, it it just too much for a perp sicko to contain themselves.
I am getting the knee pain jabbings tonight, and the ear ringing noise is getting way to vexing, so it is time to make excuses and blog off.
A rare day when the perps let me out to do something new, and didn't frustrate me at every turn, only every other turn. This was the event of building a 8' long wall some 3' high and tie it into the remaining wall that didn'f fall down this winter. This is at my in-town brother's place, he putting on this constant act of loathing house and property maintenance when he is a die hard garage sale wheeler and dealer. In his day job he works at a hospital to clean and prepare all the surgery equipment. And he gets seven weeks of annual vacation because of his seniority there. But he is a strange case; job loathing but not doing anything about it, and constantly complains about the vagaries of garage sales, his obsessive hobby. So when it comes to house and property maintenance, I get the call if it fits the perps' objectives of course.
The plant pruning certainly does, as they were all over me with noise at the moment of severing the excessive branches, and once my brother even timed his squirrel abatement activity to the moment I was cutting a branch off nearby. But today, it was on to masonary, playing with motar mix and pre-mixed concrete, and regular readers will know that the perps are plenty beserk about these products and placing them around me, including putting gangstalking redi-mix trucks through downtown to "join me". They love to have me witness major public construction road works and the like, to have me there for a big pour day along with the concrete finishers. And then have me walk on fresh but firm concrete a day or so later, and keep me walking on these surfaces, in some cases for over three years. There are many sections of public sidewalks that get dug up for no seeming reason, 4' or so to 20', sometimes with more than one pour, or perhaps, source of concrete. They also like to arrange "grind downs", where the concrete edges have lifted, and the surface is levelled by grinding down the raised edges.
So...., making up concrete from the bags got me extra noise attention today, but my in-town brother was "hanging around", smashing old mortar off the rocks of the former wall section, and then had to answer a cell phone call and then circulate around me while I was mixing concrete, pacing around and circling me, just like a downtown gangstalker. As there are plenty of EMF signals with an cell phone transmissions, and that the perps are keeping me in a densified magnetic field (over 1600 Gauss), it is important for them to have cell phoning Fuckwits posted around me, especially for big events (for them) like entering or exiting buildings, moving from room to room, and when the bus is turning corners. I reckon that cell phones are good for the asshole's electromagnetic investigation games, as well as whatever reaction one has from whatever they do to the LCD displays on cell phone, just like on this here PC. There is something that comes off LCD displays that is of use to the perps, as they will often have a Fuckwit standing in mid aisle or nearby on the bus, just looking at the screen on the cell phone. Or else, in more limited ways, do the same with the laptop, having them open and active two seats next to when on the bus.
I have never built a rock wall before, but as we had gathered the rocks two days ago, I reckon the perps convinced my brother that I was up for the job. Why else would he hand this task over to me when I am totally inexperienced? Over the course of six hours I had made a passable foundation of rock bedded in by mortar, and had poured concrete into a gouge in the bedrock to level it up. I asked my brother to put in a stringline for where he wanted the wall, but by the time that I had need of it he had strung it skewed, so it was useless to me. But useful for the perps to have a brown string just over my head and then brown vertical string as well. Regular readers will know how much the perps covert having brown things around, me, but not worn by me, and the rest of their beserk fascination with all things brown, especially when in the bathroom.
I used my new gloves for the rock wall job, as the other pair I keep at my brothers has been trashed by someone cutting holes in two fingers of the left hand. This new pair is of the same type of yellow leather, but with black stretchy panels on the backs of the hands. And I should not of been too surprised to find that the gloves, likely via the perps, had made my hands yellow from "dye bleed off" by the end of the day. This then fed the Fuckwit Frenzy at the bus stop. I arrived at the bus stop at 1700h, just missing one because of the traffic light timing. within five minutes, five Fuckwits had arrived at the bus stop, mouths agape, bald head on display, or otherwise seeming totally odd. One had a yellow shirt on and was determined to step into the center of the sidewalk and block my view of any oncoming buses. And he seemed also determined to block the sunlight as well, until I leaned forward and put an end to that bullshit. After waiting some eight minutes for a bus, another Fuckwit arrives with a folded yellow T-shirt in hand, coming closer that the yellow shirted Fuckwit. And that was the signal it was time to go, and walk back into town, as waiting for a fucking bus turns into a sicko feeding event, color coordinated to the dye they put on my hands.
A forty minute walk into town didn't ensure that I was Freak Free (aka gangstalker) by any means, as there were all manner of weirds stationed at the bus stops when walking past, but at least I didn't have to deal with their fucking stake-out games. The perps don't normally let me do much exercise, especially running and walking, as it seems they cannot get enough of their irradiation fuckery on me while moving. Sure enough, when I get back to my apartment and onto this PC, some kind of vision buggering irradiation is coming off this LCD panel, just like in the days when they did let me out for extensive (greater than 30 minutes) of walking. Back then, 2006 and 2008, after each walking outing, they would hammer me with some kind of eye-buggering irradiation off the LCD panel, as it seems that exercise has a dissapative effect, as well as they cannot measure me accurately when I am moving. The stopped me running in 2003, as presumably that presented even more technical challenges for the Fuckwits.
It was interesting to note the noisestalking timing today while rock wall building. Anytime rocks were grinding or binding was a big deal for the assholes by adding more noise, the reasons noted in the recent blog posting, introducing the concept of petrovoltaics, rock sourced electromagnetics, which isn't new, it is just that it also likely serves the perps' agenda, as they like me to be exposed to soil and rock diggings as much as they can arrange. (wikipedia has it as petravoltaics, misspelled). And to have me get rocks from one location and place them on bedrock at another location is just too exciting for them. And to add mortar mix and cement into the picture, and then to have me later walk home for 40 minutes on all kinds of new streetwork poured concrete surfaces, why, it it just too much for a perp sicko to contain themselves.
I am getting the knee pain jabbings tonight, and the ear ringing noise is getting way to vexing, so it is time to make excuses and blog off.
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