10-13-2015
A Tuesday like a Monday, this being the first day back from the Thanksgiving weekend in these parts N of the 49th Parallel. Though yesterday, I was at the boss' house for Thanksgiving dinner with their daughter and husband and children. No rude-assed hand flicking in my face this time, nor the reaching arm across my plate, inches from my nose.
And this incremental abandonment thing again, which has occurred at other social dinner events, even going back to 2000 when Ms. C and her family invited me to Thanksgiving, this when I lived in Seattle. The seeming arrangement is that one by one, the others leave the dinner table after the meal, leaving me by myself and wondering why this is arranged as often as it is. Just plain weird.
Heavy home-bound commute coverage today. Some 8 motorcyclist stalkers for the 20 minute drive when normally I get none at this time of year. About mid-day, a black military aircraft did a single climbing pass, presumably from Penticton Airport, but what was it doing there anyhow? It was a four engine turboprop and per usual (in the Unsual TI World), there were black wave like emissions coming from it, which I take to be some kind of maser beams that travel larger distances than the fuzzy balls and lines I get inside my residence.
I had helicopter coverage on the way home, and four trains of gangstalking vehicles ahead and oncoming, all this at about 1620h as I left work some 15 minutes late, but hey, they know that too, long before I did. The boss lady come down to chat just as I was finishing up work, and usually she doesn't, I leave on my own about 99% of the time. A four vehicle cluster fuck that was held up by an oncoming vehicle train, as the vehicle in front of me had to make a L turn. Once he made his, a last red vehicle (caboose?) with this awful faded dull red (roof and hood) to deep red paint job (lowest side body panels) came by to hold up my L turn. I suppose the perps were testing me on the paint job (same original color/source etc.) with a large variance in the paint color. No separate paneling of clashing reds of differing paint sources this time.
As the final act, the landlord was hanging outside his house, some 70' away, on his cell phone. The cell phone stalkers are also coming out more of late, on all fronts. I see he had his cube van in place of where he keeps his red pickup truck for some (related) reason.
Then when home, an immediate need for a bowel movement, another perp high interest/harassment event. What all of this means is beyond me.
Just when I thought I had this pissing problem fixed by starting on L-tyrosine and L-phenlyalanine yesterday, the problem came back. As it "happens", it can be a dopamine deficiency problem. All I have to do is look up Parkinson's Disease, and the non-motor problems all seem to line up with having a generalized dopamine deficiency problem (aka lifelong ADD). Or at least, that is how the perps portray my set of "conditions", as they can manage any medical issue to any level they like, and not just for me, but the population at large. Though it does make me wonder if Parkinson's Disease isn't yet another manifestation of their dopamine research agenda, which is unleashed upon me under the cover of having Attention Deficit Disorder. I have the Inattentive sub-type, and this is diagnosed from a SPECT scan I had in 2001, aafter being blown off by three shrinks and a neurologist for crissakes (1995 to 2000). I am sure the perps had a hand in arranging that too.
Come to think of it, at the time, I was about to have my second SPECT scan (, the first being a baseline, the second after a focus/concentration exercise), and the technician didn't arrange me correctly, and my shoulder was in contact with the head that was about to rotate. As I now knew the procedure, I told him the scanner head was touching my shoulder. He gave me a sheepish look, as if he knew, and re-positioned me so the rotating scanner head could freely move around me, per normal. I thought it was odd he looked sheepish instead of reacting apologetically, but as this has "happened" so often among for those I don't know, I could not judge it to be normal or not at the time.
10-14-1015
A Wednesday yoga session with the male instructor, now hiding behind a large beard. Normally I don't go this night of the week, but as the Monday session was closed for Thanksgiving, I decided I should stay limber all the same.Said instructor was masking his protruding gut with baggy clothing, nothing new there in perp arrangement for over-sized stalkers. A yogi dude with brown shorts and hairy legs (three Unfavoreds there) keeps planting himself beside me, and now the fourth time he ends up a mat away. The ridiculous man with the heavy breathing "habit'/act was there too; doesn't he ever get better lung capacity in the two years of his yoga attendance that I have known?
Yellow colors are also big among the gangstalk crowd today, and lo, if I didn't "happen" to have corn for lunch and dinner.
I hadn't seen the Star Girl in yoga, for a year or so, and barely recognized her now that her hair is dyed red (Unfavored). Her wrist star tattoos have expanded down her L arm and it looks like someone took a jagged felt pen to it. All for me to see of course as she was adroitly aligned to block my line of sight to the instructor with he tattoos visible. And she made sure I could not figure it out as she kept coming and going and moving her mat before class. The rest of her was worth looking at though. Which is a common perp arrangement; put the babe beside or in line of sight with the dude (instructor in this instance), and see how I separate the Favored from the Unfavored.
And of all things, after three years of attempts, the assholes finally let me do a wheel pose. That measure of decency, if it could be termed that (more like obstruction relenting), didn't stop them from wobbling me during the balances; they simply move my foot on me and I have no control of this.
And why do the perps continue to sabotage my cut/paste function in Windows? I copied a tracking number and then when I want to paste it, Paste is greyed out, likely because they wiped the Paste buffer before I could paste. Lets see, I get a few of these stunts a week, and it is always some long random number that is hell to recall window to window.
10-15-2015
A two hour work day for job orientation in preparation for next week, this being sorting, grading and packaging tree seedlings. And some piece rate incentive in it too, though I am always rather guarded about this arrangement, having been in the daffodil picking fields where the hourly Mexicans get the best fields and the locals on piece rate, get the rest, all to keep the total picking cost lower. But, it seems this isn't the same arrangement; the seedling containers arrive and one pulls, sorts and bundles and packages inside without concern over the vagaries of field conditions.
And while in this lunch room with 40 people or so, the perps put on some green plasma spots in my visual field, and I wasn't in a situation I could avert or close my eyes. And no one pretended to notice these floating orbs of light.
On the drive home, I get a yellow vehicle escort for 5 minutes, and then an ambulance (white, with red painted lines here in BC) was on dog-me duty, even passing me when I was 10km/hr over the speed limit. More tag with the ambulance, followed, me getting ahead at the traffic lights and the fucker following me into a my residential area. No emergency of course; and what is the deal over this ambulance chasing all the time?
And three times today, including the dim lit evening, of the red and white fire trucks "happening" to be driving by. Do we see a theme here?
So onto to getting my haircut in the early afternoon, but I wasn't able to get out when I intended, as my new hiking boots from STP arrived. And a extra $85 ransom payable to UPS no less. Some was the federal sales tax, other was "duty". In the past they have been scamming with "duty" from products from the US, where there is free trade agreement (no duty). So I will have to look at this one to see if it is legit; yet another nail to pound down.
The perps finally let me in on this latest forced expense of new boots; the whole $350 expense was totally unneeded. They had me in pissy over the the shoe repair guy who didn't come through and wouldn't back up his work, so "instead" of spending $160 to fix them up, they had me spend $350 for a very stiff pair of mountaineering boots. But as I have a pair of sturdy safety toed work boots (that aren't falling apart any more, repaired at least 3x by said shoemaker), I could of worn them for this next two month working gig and taken the hiking boots to a reliable shoemaker I know in Victoria. Like WTF; they screw me down to a lower income two weeks ago, and then concoct this fuckery over boot repairs and then invoke a fake "need" that cost me $350 for boots I didn't really need if I was allowed full access to my native analytical faculties.
A hair cut today; the same native Indian girl as last time, tho' she didn't seem quite so scared and even smiled a few times. At this hair and spa training school the student hair cutters rotate every 6 to 9 months, so I usually won't see the stylist permanently. The 6'4" male negro "student' was at the next station, the third encounter now, he being allowed to slowly get closer, and more visibly too. No hanging behind work stations in the next aisle and the rest of the partial glimpses the perps so like to arrange with the Unfavored specimens they inject all the time. He got duty on my R side, and during a hair dye treatment wait for the adjacent customer, he hung around on the L side talking to the instructor at her desk.
It was nearly three years ago when I was getting my legs waxed at this same establishment (different location then) and I was behind this curtain where I observed three negro males doing whatever behind mirrors etc. at a work station. There was no stylist helping them, and I couldn't figure out what they were doing there, besides putting on the putz/loiter/act. At one point of of them started to walk toward me, enough to get my attention (read, threat assessment), and then inexplicably retreated to join the other two. Anyhow, the three of them strut out in file after an hour and didn't need to pay for anything, and again, no staff seemed to have anything to do with them. Go figure.
Plenty of fat girls today, though, not at the forest seedling nursery crew, but on the street and at the hair salon. In particular, one of the staff seems to have a large ass and needed to strut behind me at least 8x. The even larger, and very pleasant, spa instructor was also there, and lo, if she and the odd-stick male stylist instructor weren't conversing out back on the back street where I returned to my vehicle. I say "odd-stick" in regards to his appearance; usually with one or two day's facial hair, wearing jeans, and looking a little like a alkie at a publicly accessible hair stylist salon. Again, this could all be an act just for me when I am there, as unusual adult male appearances (Unfavored) consistently get my attention.
Post hair cut, and a mighty swarm of vehicular traffic around me on a Thursday after noon in October in Penticton, (not exactly tourist season now), and I go to a 20% of sale to a specialty foods and supplements store. What a mistake; all these dudes strutting around me, doing the faux shopping act, bend overs at the at the same shelf location for five minutes, and then at least four of them in separate events, come within 4' to get my attention (read, threat assessment), then turn around with their back facing me, and inexplicably stop (facing down aisle) and not even pretending to be looking at merchandise, and then retreat. Why are so many dudes so fucking deranged in the same way in the same store? Enough of the herding as well, and I got the fuck out of there, also getting scrambled in not getting all the items I wanted. And this wouldn't be the first time gangtalking fever has erupted post-haircut.
10-16-2015
A big day for plastic bag games today; the maverick-cum-exasperator former full time employer has me back for some fill-in days helping him with his wine making ambitions. He won't buy stainless steel tanks, and so he uses large plastic bags inside plastic picking bins as his "tanks". He recently got some serious bags (purpose made) with bung holes for filling to replace his "system" of liner bags which wasn't working too well as the fruit flies got in. He has 30+ tons of grapes invested into this venture this year, and a few weeks ago tried to persuade me to be his full time wine maker for the next two months. Thankfully, the above mentioned forest seedling job came up, and so I will work there on Saturdays only. That includes tomorrow of course, and provides some extra cash to pay for the above mentioned expenses that need to be addressed.
Earlier, I advised him to take most of his 30 tons to a cooperative winery and let some professionals do the wine-making while he worked out his plastic bag "system", but he does things his own way. How much all of this is for real, or contrived to raise my angst over the exceptional risk-taking is beyond me, though he has been absolutely consistent in being excessively parsimonious to the point of incurring self-defeating risk, or even greater costs later. The perps like to arrange "I told you so" events for me, and this guy invokes a whole lot of that. Anyhow, I don't understand how he would turn down $80k in grape harvest revenue to instead launch into this winery venture with unproven methods and the barest of equipment. Though to be fair, he did get a used wine pump recently, a 1.5" intake hose, which can move wine with the gentleness it deserves in decent volume.
10-18-2015
Wine pumping with the boss man yesterday, and we didn't get it all done, and so I worked today (Sunday). It wouldn't of been his choice, as he likes his days off, but it had to get done. I was hoping to finish by noon and take my new boots hiking, but his intentional dithering for two hours in the morning, meant that I got there at 0800h and didn't get seriously pumping until nearly 1100. And then the clean up of the plastic bags took over two hours after the pumping was over, and so no hiking. All I got to do was take the boots there, and then sitting them on red brick while I wore my gum boots for the day.
For some perverse reason he has run the sprinklers in the same area that lines the driveway three days in succession, and for the last two, opened up the hose that I need to hose down tanks and bins. Which means it floods the cleaning area, and the pressure it has makes it unmanageable. And as a bonus today, the perps pulled on off rain for the afternoon to add to their water games.
The muddy residue after the wine ferment is called the lees, and I had to extract it from these plastic bags and direct it to this ditch. It was a total mess, and my boots and clothes were covered in this yellow mud mess. Another trip to the laundromat afterward, having done all my laundry last night. In the laundromat, and on the yellow theme, a dude on his cell phone with his presumed wife and daughter, both blonde and pony tailed. Said dude did the come-at-me move to get my immediate attention and diverted so something else. On my return, he did the parallel cell-phone stalk. The laundromat has a bank of washing machines some 50' long, and they had laundry going at each end, and me ending up in the middle. Funny how the "split couple" or "split family" stalking move comes up.
That is all the news for this past week; onto two employers, one of them new, though sorting and packing forest seedlings is known to me four years ago before I moved to the Okanagan Valley.
Showing posts with label plastic exposures. Show all posts
Showing posts with label plastic exposures. Show all posts
Sunday, October 18, 2015
Friday, May 27, 2011
No Hair Brush Use Allowed
1050h
A new development in the last week is that my post-shower wet hair magically forms into a head shape and doesn't call out to be brushed or combed. The perps have pulled this stunt off and on for some 9 years now, but we are into the third week of it so far. I don't have a complaint as my dried hair looks OK, and doesn't pull if later combed. So it seems that this is the latest research effort, eliminating the use of a plastic combed hairbrush in this long running saga of total life rape. IMO, it is totally fucking pathetic that after 9 years the abusers have only got this far. Naturally, I am not privy to their progress charts, nor their objectives, so take this statement advisedly. But it is consistent with the sudden "need" to get stainless steel lunch tins last year, along with natural bristled brushes for cleaning the dishes (2) and one's teeth (1). So goes the plastic elimination games, and citing the supplied "wisdom", they tell me that plastics are not only ubiquitous pollutants in one's person (who arrranged that?), but also they have unpredictable submolecular behaviors. NOT MY PROBLEM, so why am I neck deep in all these plastic bag toting gangstalkers, not to mention the plastic bag flicking cashiers, and the irrigation pipe (PVC) bearing trucks that circle the downtown block twice while waiting for a bus when there was no irrigation job? On with the abusive insanity, and don't fess up that the victim is intensely pissed at not only having his life totally fucked with every second of being awake (and sleep if the extra vivid dreams are also their doing, but also because this nonconsensual human experimentation abuse has gone for too long. A week was novel, but after that, it was, and remains, extreme tediousness.
And why is it that someone intercepted my Fedex parcel two days ago and hasn't told me where it is? I think we are up to a dozen like incidents, and are now in the third round of apartment managers who do exactly the same thing, assuming so, I haven't enquired yet.
Last week's bizarre phone encounter with the acting manager over the laundry dryer, has put me off; he of the "my dryer" bullshit. And this too is another orchestrated stunt/statement, as in 2000 when I was attempting to rent a vehicle for a day while mine was in the shop, the rental assistant got into a hissy fit and said, "renting MY vehicle with no insurance". Yes, for a day I said. It was my first and last encounter with Enterprise, and I was totally astounded at this asshole behavior. Since then (2007 or 2008) a former apartment manger was chewing my ass because I took a picture of an elevator barging Fuckwit, (attempting to get in before I could get out), and went on about "MY apartment building". Having a camera ready in the elevator was my reaction to this bizarre behavior that erupted then. And strangely, it stopped for a long time after that. Can we say orchestration? It is fucking ridiculous, this conflated extra possessive ownership of something that is clearly not theirs in the first place.
1500h
And lo, if it wasn't the new building manager who intercepted my parcel and "forgot" to tell me about it, as in his words, "I was away". Like WTF; he blames my absences on his lack of informing me about my parcel for two days, and not forgetting it was me who phoned him this morning. Another conflation of the facts to justify his interception of my mail. Like WTF; leave a phone message or leave a note under the door.
Said dude also strung me out for an extra 10 minutes, saying he would be by in 15 minutes when it was 25 minutes when I phoned him again, as I wanted to head out to work at the farm. The farmer said to come over and start work after lunch. When he comes he gives me this protracted stare; like WTF, he fucked me out of 10 minutes of waiting, and that makes him the freak/Fuckwit/insane psychopath abettor.
I get my freakshow on the bus, the 220+lb woman with semi-dreadlocks sat immediately in front of me in the transverse seat, as I was on the rear bench seat. Solution; turn my head more to look outside as this humungous freak was unbearable to look at. I get off at my bus stop, to find a Frito-lay delivery truck on stalking duty, unattended and as far from the store as possible, dispensing with the notion of making a delivery. One side of the box panel was predominantly yellow, the other red, and how often have I complained about red and yellow dressed amulatory gangstalkers? I get to the next block and wait for the pedestrian signal, as it is very busy there at McKenzie and Borden, and someone is sounding their horn. I didn't think anything of it, and was about halfway when my co-worker drives over the crosswalk in front of me, as in affrontive. She pulls over to tell me that the farm work is cancelled for the whole day, but that she can drive me to the farm warehouse to get my paycheck, the first one of this gig. I say fine, and she proceeds down part of my walking route to then turn the vehicle around. A 10 tonne flatbed truck is in front of her, with a large three wheeled red colored forklift. And it "happens" to precede her around the corner,very slowly up the hill, and then at the intersections, effectively reversing its direction, and finally turns off at the adjacent farm. I would call this my Big Red accomaniment.
And a clusterfuck at the warehouse, with the farmer's son telling me the fields were too wet, with me still wondering why they couldn't tell me this at 0710h when I phoned, or again at 1115h or phone me. He tells me it was a big rainstorm in the night that woke him up. Whatever, but the bottom line is that they intentionally never had their act together to keep me at my apartment with my lunch packed and ready to go all morning and then jerked me across town in my work clothes to then turn me around again. With this substitute day backpack I am using due to the ink blowout the perps arranged in my regular pack three days ago, means that the perps are going utterly beserk in playing games with my backpacks, the duration of my packed lunch inside it, and where it was. Not to mention them monitoring me while I ate from this same backpack when I got back to this apartment, also getting a ride from the same co-worker.
1735h
Continuing the above story, the farmer's son attempts to explain about the large amount of rain overnight, but doesn't explain how he and his father couldn't get their act together as to whether or not to call farmworkers in. But it is apparent the two Punjabi males got work this morning. Anyhow, the big deal must mean that picking up one's paycheck is the BIG EVENT for today, along with cashing it later this afternoon at the ATM. Not only did I have my flush of freaks and Fuckwits, but a negro came to hang around 10' behind me on his cell phone, loitering in the bank, and about the last place one should be loitering. Then a female plants herself 4' behind me, making out she is attending to her backpack. She is gone, when out of nowhere comes this red colored arm, and lo, if it wasn't an Asian male reaching in close for an envelope. Seeing that I had five Asian males strung abreast in the lobby, I wasn't too surprised to see yet more hounding my ass downtown. The perps are heavy on Asian gangstalkers of late, progressing up the brown skin scale it would seem.
And I get an extra $100 cash out because my daughter hit me up yesterday for her first phone call to me in over 10 years. She will be 21 next week, and for the record, the ex did exactly squat all this time as to facilitation or aiding the communication. Last week I got this shrill and vituperative email from the ex about how terrible I was about contacting our daughter. As if I didn't try for some time, and gave up when it was readily apparent that she was witholding vital topical subjects. And who is it then, that stops our daughter from communicating with me then? Enough on that topic, and the ex's grasp on the facts.
And another busy event for the perps was to have me take my backpack to the drycleaners one block away, and get the ink blowout/stain removed. And lo, if there wasn't a biddy act, going into extended irrelevant conversation, all so she could protract the amount of time her long scarlet red coat was being turned over on the blue formica countertop. At least five minutes went by, maybe longer, and when she made it time to go (me sitting on concrete bench all the time), the counter assistant had to go outside to hold the door open for this freaking doddering act and her walker. And a fugly red-brown hairpiece too.
And has there been enough of the back-and-forths today? The cashier at the checkout at the grocery store this morning, was compelled to go back into the adjacent aisle with item in hand where I got the salad dressing to figure out the price as it didn't have a bar code on it. I explained there was a red price tag on it, so she went back there too, all to look at these new red price tags the store introduced.
This hold-up finally ended, and I got to turn my backpackin for drycleaning, and lo, if the biddy act wasn't outside, some 60' away, not having got very far. And I suppose it could of been legit, given the walker excuse. Then two blocks to the alterations woman, but enroute the Freak du Jour, the long leather coated dude with the bandana and the shades in white frames did his thing, extending his arms to cover as much sidewalk width as possible, making himself to be gregarious. Before I knew it, "f*** off" came from my lips and I walked around him and his armspread. This same freak was at the intersection as me this morning at 0730h when I did my grocery shopping.
And the black hiking/work pants I took to have alterations done are to deal with this vinyl coating on the knees that is peeling off. The method is to put a fabric patch on them, and lo, if it won't be the same material as that which got put on the ass of my stretch cordura pants. And for some reason, the perps wouldn't let me mention that a sewing pin got left in the patch and was the deemed cause of at 4" wound on my left hand. This wound has been a constant source of complaint, as not only do the perps make it seem that everything proximate touches it to greater pain sensation, but they are also stopping it from healing by pulling it wider, foiling the healing process. Some Polysporin has been applied, this glossy almost-gel, no doubt to serve the perp cause as has the glossy black and large wristwatch acquired two months ago, but also the aforementioned glossy black ripstop nylon ass patch on the stretch cordura pants. So, for $56 I get two knee patches that are only needed to deal with perp sabotage in the first place. More outrageous abuse.
This morning's grocery shopping at 0730h wasn't without gangstalking events either of course. A long scarlet red coated biddy was entering the other door some 50' away when I was, and then later showed up on sentry duty at the yogurt section, loitering exactly over the one kind that I wanted. I looked somewhere else momentarily to see the red biddy gone, and lo, if the stalking/stocking dudes weren't rolling in with their carts to replace her as the yogurt sentries. They weren't going anywhere fast, so I got the alternate kind shelved some 6' away. And why is it the perps keep me alternating between these two kinds, either having sentries over top of it or else arranging no apparent stock on the shelves?
I started eating yogurt about three months ago, and haven't had a break in picking it off the store shelf since; they put on gangstalkers repeatedly every time. The back and forth dudes, the hovering Fuckwit and all the other cast of characters. When I started goat milk a few years ago, they did the same; a total baragge of Fuckwits all over me, and even bringing out one of the former swim team members I knew, who did the year absence thing (meaning operative training program IMHO), and then came back to the club. (This was the swimmer known to me as the designated "whacker", swimming opposite direction and coming in too close in the swim lane and then whacking me with his hand. He was also on stare duty, or at least, prolonged eye contact for no apparent reason). He engaged me in some minor conversation at the time, dogged me elsewhere in the store, and didn't bother to respond when I mentioned something that he shouldn't of known, as I haven't seen him much. Most times when something odd or oblique is mentioned the person asks what they mean, but not in this situation. More public bizarreness.
2130h
Then there is the incomplete shopping intention games today, foiling me by way of remotely applied neural dithering to have me "forget", twice today. The first was tortillas, large and small, differing makes and in different store locations. First I get the frozen large ones, then proceed to the location of the smaller ones, but lo, if there isn't the bread delivery dudes blocking the aisle to the small ones. I call it "breadstalking", though this is a commercial delivery quantity, almost pallet sized and 3' high. Then in going around this obstruction, I "forget" to go back, and on the way to the next item I see another brand of large tortillas in the cooler display but think nothing of it. (Once, this would remind me, but those days of having cxognitive freedom are long gone). I get back to my apartment and realize I got screwed by the bread delivery aisle obstruction set up, but I did purchase an additional item to make for the item count as planned in advance.
Then again after the swarm at the door of the bank after the ATM visitation, there was another herd/swarm of six or more all crossing the road together and I passed on following this clusterfuck. In doing so I ended up on the wrong side of the street to get a box of pens, having been earlier screwed out of them at a stationary store I visited. I also got screwed out of visiting the intended gift wrap store next to the same bank, twice today. The first plan was at 1000h but they put an advance herd on me so I went to the stationary store instead. And it seems mighty curious that the perps had me re-visit some of the same route in the morning (aborted giftwrap shop trip) as in my second foray downtown to the alterations person (prior black pants in hand) and then to the bank.
2045h
Motorcycle noises have increased over the past month, hardly four minutes goes by without one variant or another e.g. Harley Davidson, Japanese high revving engines, trail bike noise. There was a biker's meet up-island this past weekend, but that didn't stop the HOG's noise from innundating my existence. And when out on the street earlier, they put on a 1950's motorcycle with a sidecar. Very strange.
2220h
I am being rendered restless for no reason than being remotely messed with, so I will call this one done and blog off.
A new development in the last week is that my post-shower wet hair magically forms into a head shape and doesn't call out to be brushed or combed. The perps have pulled this stunt off and on for some 9 years now, but we are into the third week of it so far. I don't have a complaint as my dried hair looks OK, and doesn't pull if later combed. So it seems that this is the latest research effort, eliminating the use of a plastic combed hairbrush in this long running saga of total life rape. IMO, it is totally fucking pathetic that after 9 years the abusers have only got this far. Naturally, I am not privy to their progress charts, nor their objectives, so take this statement advisedly. But it is consistent with the sudden "need" to get stainless steel lunch tins last year, along with natural bristled brushes for cleaning the dishes (2) and one's teeth (1). So goes the plastic elimination games, and citing the supplied "wisdom", they tell me that plastics are not only ubiquitous pollutants in one's person (who arrranged that?), but also they have unpredictable submolecular behaviors. NOT MY PROBLEM, so why am I neck deep in all these plastic bag toting gangstalkers, not to mention the plastic bag flicking cashiers, and the irrigation pipe (PVC) bearing trucks that circle the downtown block twice while waiting for a bus when there was no irrigation job? On with the abusive insanity, and don't fess up that the victim is intensely pissed at not only having his life totally fucked with every second of being awake (and sleep if the extra vivid dreams are also their doing, but also because this nonconsensual human experimentation abuse has gone for too long. A week was novel, but after that, it was, and remains, extreme tediousness.
And why is it that someone intercepted my Fedex parcel two days ago and hasn't told me where it is? I think we are up to a dozen like incidents, and are now in the third round of apartment managers who do exactly the same thing, assuming so, I haven't enquired yet.
Last week's bizarre phone encounter with the acting manager over the laundry dryer, has put me off; he of the "my dryer" bullshit. And this too is another orchestrated stunt/statement, as in 2000 when I was attempting to rent a vehicle for a day while mine was in the shop, the rental assistant got into a hissy fit and said, "renting MY vehicle with no insurance". Yes, for a day I said. It was my first and last encounter with Enterprise, and I was totally astounded at this asshole behavior. Since then (2007 or 2008) a former apartment manger was chewing my ass because I took a picture of an elevator barging Fuckwit, (attempting to get in before I could get out), and went on about "MY apartment building". Having a camera ready in the elevator was my reaction to this bizarre behavior that erupted then. And strangely, it stopped for a long time after that. Can we say orchestration? It is fucking ridiculous, this conflated extra possessive ownership of something that is clearly not theirs in the first place.
1500h
And lo, if it wasn't the new building manager who intercepted my parcel and "forgot" to tell me about it, as in his words, "I was away". Like WTF; he blames my absences on his lack of informing me about my parcel for two days, and not forgetting it was me who phoned him this morning. Another conflation of the facts to justify his interception of my mail. Like WTF; leave a phone message or leave a note under the door.
Said dude also strung me out for an extra 10 minutes, saying he would be by in 15 minutes when it was 25 minutes when I phoned him again, as I wanted to head out to work at the farm. The farmer said to come over and start work after lunch. When he comes he gives me this protracted stare; like WTF, he fucked me out of 10 minutes of waiting, and that makes him the freak/Fuckwit/insane psychopath abettor.
I get my freakshow on the bus, the 220+lb woman with semi-dreadlocks sat immediately in front of me in the transverse seat, as I was on the rear bench seat. Solution; turn my head more to look outside as this humungous freak was unbearable to look at. I get off at my bus stop, to find a Frito-lay delivery truck on stalking duty, unattended and as far from the store as possible, dispensing with the notion of making a delivery. One side of the box panel was predominantly yellow, the other red, and how often have I complained about red and yellow dressed amulatory gangstalkers? I get to the next block and wait for the pedestrian signal, as it is very busy there at McKenzie and Borden, and someone is sounding their horn. I didn't think anything of it, and was about halfway when my co-worker drives over the crosswalk in front of me, as in affrontive. She pulls over to tell me that the farm work is cancelled for the whole day, but that she can drive me to the farm warehouse to get my paycheck, the first one of this gig. I say fine, and she proceeds down part of my walking route to then turn the vehicle around. A 10 tonne flatbed truck is in front of her, with a large three wheeled red colored forklift. And it "happens" to precede her around the corner,very slowly up the hill, and then at the intersections, effectively reversing its direction, and finally turns off at the adjacent farm. I would call this my Big Red accomaniment.
And a clusterfuck at the warehouse, with the farmer's son telling me the fields were too wet, with me still wondering why they couldn't tell me this at 0710h when I phoned, or again at 1115h or phone me. He tells me it was a big rainstorm in the night that woke him up. Whatever, but the bottom line is that they intentionally never had their act together to keep me at my apartment with my lunch packed and ready to go all morning and then jerked me across town in my work clothes to then turn me around again. With this substitute day backpack I am using due to the ink blowout the perps arranged in my regular pack three days ago, means that the perps are going utterly beserk in playing games with my backpacks, the duration of my packed lunch inside it, and where it was. Not to mention them monitoring me while I ate from this same backpack when I got back to this apartment, also getting a ride from the same co-worker.
1735h
Continuing the above story, the farmer's son attempts to explain about the large amount of rain overnight, but doesn't explain how he and his father couldn't get their act together as to whether or not to call farmworkers in. But it is apparent the two Punjabi males got work this morning. Anyhow, the big deal must mean that picking up one's paycheck is the BIG EVENT for today, along with cashing it later this afternoon at the ATM. Not only did I have my flush of freaks and Fuckwits, but a negro came to hang around 10' behind me on his cell phone, loitering in the bank, and about the last place one should be loitering. Then a female plants herself 4' behind me, making out she is attending to her backpack. She is gone, when out of nowhere comes this red colored arm, and lo, if it wasn't an Asian male reaching in close for an envelope. Seeing that I had five Asian males strung abreast in the lobby, I wasn't too surprised to see yet more hounding my ass downtown. The perps are heavy on Asian gangstalkers of late, progressing up the brown skin scale it would seem.
And I get an extra $100 cash out because my daughter hit me up yesterday for her first phone call to me in over 10 years. She will be 21 next week, and for the record, the ex did exactly squat all this time as to facilitation or aiding the communication. Last week I got this shrill and vituperative email from the ex about how terrible I was about contacting our daughter. As if I didn't try for some time, and gave up when it was readily apparent that she was witholding vital topical subjects. And who is it then, that stops our daughter from communicating with me then? Enough on that topic, and the ex's grasp on the facts.
And another busy event for the perps was to have me take my backpack to the drycleaners one block away, and get the ink blowout/stain removed. And lo, if there wasn't a biddy act, going into extended irrelevant conversation, all so she could protract the amount of time her long scarlet red coat was being turned over on the blue formica countertop. At least five minutes went by, maybe longer, and when she made it time to go (me sitting on concrete bench all the time), the counter assistant had to go outside to hold the door open for this freaking doddering act and her walker. And a fugly red-brown hairpiece too.
And has there been enough of the back-and-forths today? The cashier at the checkout at the grocery store this morning, was compelled to go back into the adjacent aisle with item in hand where I got the salad dressing to figure out the price as it didn't have a bar code on it. I explained there was a red price tag on it, so she went back there too, all to look at these new red price tags the store introduced.
This hold-up finally ended, and I got to turn my backpackin for drycleaning, and lo, if the biddy act wasn't outside, some 60' away, not having got very far. And I suppose it could of been legit, given the walker excuse. Then two blocks to the alterations woman, but enroute the Freak du Jour, the long leather coated dude with the bandana and the shades in white frames did his thing, extending his arms to cover as much sidewalk width as possible, making himself to be gregarious. Before I knew it, "f*** off" came from my lips and I walked around him and his armspread. This same freak was at the intersection as me this morning at 0730h when I did my grocery shopping.
And the black hiking/work pants I took to have alterations done are to deal with this vinyl coating on the knees that is peeling off. The method is to put a fabric patch on them, and lo, if it won't be the same material as that which got put on the ass of my stretch cordura pants. And for some reason, the perps wouldn't let me mention that a sewing pin got left in the patch and was the deemed cause of at 4" wound on my left hand. This wound has been a constant source of complaint, as not only do the perps make it seem that everything proximate touches it to greater pain sensation, but they are also stopping it from healing by pulling it wider, foiling the healing process. Some Polysporin has been applied, this glossy almost-gel, no doubt to serve the perp cause as has the glossy black and large wristwatch acquired two months ago, but also the aforementioned glossy black ripstop nylon ass patch on the stretch cordura pants. So, for $56 I get two knee patches that are only needed to deal with perp sabotage in the first place. More outrageous abuse.
This morning's grocery shopping at 0730h wasn't without gangstalking events either of course. A long scarlet red coated biddy was entering the other door some 50' away when I was, and then later showed up on sentry duty at the yogurt section, loitering exactly over the one kind that I wanted. I looked somewhere else momentarily to see the red biddy gone, and lo, if the stalking/stocking dudes weren't rolling in with their carts to replace her as the yogurt sentries. They weren't going anywhere fast, so I got the alternate kind shelved some 6' away. And why is it the perps keep me alternating between these two kinds, either having sentries over top of it or else arranging no apparent stock on the shelves?
I started eating yogurt about three months ago, and haven't had a break in picking it off the store shelf since; they put on gangstalkers repeatedly every time. The back and forth dudes, the hovering Fuckwit and all the other cast of characters. When I started goat milk a few years ago, they did the same; a total baragge of Fuckwits all over me, and even bringing out one of the former swim team members I knew, who did the year absence thing (meaning operative training program IMHO), and then came back to the club. (This was the swimmer known to me as the designated "whacker", swimming opposite direction and coming in too close in the swim lane and then whacking me with his hand. He was also on stare duty, or at least, prolonged eye contact for no apparent reason). He engaged me in some minor conversation at the time, dogged me elsewhere in the store, and didn't bother to respond when I mentioned something that he shouldn't of known, as I haven't seen him much. Most times when something odd or oblique is mentioned the person asks what they mean, but not in this situation. More public bizarreness.
2130h
Then there is the incomplete shopping intention games today, foiling me by way of remotely applied neural dithering to have me "forget", twice today. The first was tortillas, large and small, differing makes and in different store locations. First I get the frozen large ones, then proceed to the location of the smaller ones, but lo, if there isn't the bread delivery dudes blocking the aisle to the small ones. I call it "breadstalking", though this is a commercial delivery quantity, almost pallet sized and 3' high. Then in going around this obstruction, I "forget" to go back, and on the way to the next item I see another brand of large tortillas in the cooler display but think nothing of it. (Once, this would remind me, but those days of having cxognitive freedom are long gone). I get back to my apartment and realize I got screwed by the bread delivery aisle obstruction set up, but I did purchase an additional item to make for the item count as planned in advance.
Then again after the swarm at the door of the bank after the ATM visitation, there was another herd/swarm of six or more all crossing the road together and I passed on following this clusterfuck. In doing so I ended up on the wrong side of the street to get a box of pens, having been earlier screwed out of them at a stationary store I visited. I also got screwed out of visiting the intended gift wrap store next to the same bank, twice today. The first plan was at 1000h but they put an advance herd on me so I went to the stationary store instead. And it seems mighty curious that the perps had me re-visit some of the same route in the morning (aborted giftwrap shop trip) as in my second foray downtown to the alterations person (prior black pants in hand) and then to the bank.
2045h
Motorcycle noises have increased over the past month, hardly four minutes goes by without one variant or another e.g. Harley Davidson, Japanese high revving engines, trail bike noise. There was a biker's meet up-island this past weekend, but that didn't stop the HOG's noise from innundating my existence. And when out on the street earlier, they put on a 1950's motorcycle with a sidecar. Very strange.
2220h
I am being rendered restless for no reason than being remotely messed with, so I will call this one done and blog off.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
High Disruption
1230h
A highly disrupted Sunday, a day off from farm work, and a First Feral Family dinner at the in-town brother's place later. And my perp-abetting mother adding to the Fuckover scene by playing on the rain excuse that she claims impairs her driving, and so I am to take the city bus to go to the First Feral Family house. Regular readers will know that the city bus is nothing but a mobile gangstalk show, replete with the wierds and freaks of the Unfavored that like to present themselves to me, even if in fleeting glances.
The perps wouldn't let the laundry dry, so a second cycle in the dryer is running as I type this. A few screaming level "reactions" to provocations this morning, made busy by the sudden "need" to clean up the bathroom and kitchen floors, each with differing cleaning solutions, another all-time first. Normally they have me use Vim for both, but instead pressed on with the cleaning solutions that were stored in the respective areas. And a new box of disposable gloves might also be the perp excitement, and lo, if they didn't screw me into getting medium when it is size large I need. Somehow, they screwed me totally out of even looking at the size when acquiring the new box of disposable gloves three months ago. Another perp touch that.
And on the near-whole package toss out were the corn tortillas; a sample one blew apart at breakfast, leaking the extra runny (for today only) jam onto my fingers and on the plate, to make it look like blood, another one of their fascinations, or else the real thing. So the all-but one package of corn tortillas got tossed as they break up way too easy and are messed with to be a troublesome food item.
A short posting for this rainy day, and also with an increased amount of plasma flashes (light projections in various colors), and masers. In the latter case, the fuzzy ball types, usually paired and in formation, are bouncing in and out of my central vision, even if I look up or look at something different. The overhead pounding noise (12" of concrete and steel) has also been administered, getting through my earmuffs.
Other perp activity confluences are that they had me do a nut shave last night, and the razor got tossed too, and the garbage was put out as part of this morning's cleaning efforts. It seems the shaving disruption games are reaching a fever peak of late, though as always, they can make it worse.
And I am getting my finger tips removed of sensation as I am typing, and don't have to wonder anymore where all those pins and needles sensations came from all these years.
1340h
Another, the third, round of attempting to dry my towels. I go to the laundry room to find them wet and warm in the dryer, about the same degree of wetness at the end of the first drying cycle (one hour). This time, I take the laundry to the seventh floor and use the dryer there as it is clear that I am getting royally jerked with over tumble drying my laundry. This isn't the first time that dryer time has been extended by dint of fuckery, but it is the worst yet.
And the in-town brother calls as I furiously writing down the details in my paper journal, and then he tells me about his flat tire problems. What was that all about?
1500h
A screaming session after showering due to lint and crumb arrivals from nowhere. Then the brown crumb flashed red colors when in peripherial vision, and that was cause for getting pissed some more. Nearly all of the bathroom has been cleaned today, and the assholes are back at it and dumping their debris on the clean surfaces. I had to take a shower to clean up and a forced shit that they made a mess of; four plungings and a shower to clean up. All to use the towel that I put there minutes earlier, coming from the third time round tumble drying attempt, from the dryer on the 7th floor. So it seems they wanted me to step onto the just dried bath towel and use another in the same load to dry myself. Both dryers had plastic vanes in the drum, though different kinds as they were different models and makes. Such are the level of games with laundry and using it.
And soon I depart for the city bus, and no doubt is will be chock full of Fuckwits, aka gangstalkers, as they have me in this unique state of recently using a just dried towel to dry myself, a seeming "need" of theirs. There have been plenty of towel sabotage events over the years, and it seems they are utterly relentless as they are insane over finding out whatever it is that drives them.
I will post this now, while the funny pop up boxes and icons are nascent, and blog off.
A highly disrupted Sunday, a day off from farm work, and a First Feral Family dinner at the in-town brother's place later. And my perp-abetting mother adding to the Fuckover scene by playing on the rain excuse that she claims impairs her driving, and so I am to take the city bus to go to the First Feral Family house. Regular readers will know that the city bus is nothing but a mobile gangstalk show, replete with the wierds and freaks of the Unfavored that like to present themselves to me, even if in fleeting glances.
The perps wouldn't let the laundry dry, so a second cycle in the dryer is running as I type this. A few screaming level "reactions" to provocations this morning, made busy by the sudden "need" to clean up the bathroom and kitchen floors, each with differing cleaning solutions, another all-time first. Normally they have me use Vim for both, but instead pressed on with the cleaning solutions that were stored in the respective areas. And a new box of disposable gloves might also be the perp excitement, and lo, if they didn't screw me into getting medium when it is size large I need. Somehow, they screwed me totally out of even looking at the size when acquiring the new box of disposable gloves three months ago. Another perp touch that.
And on the near-whole package toss out were the corn tortillas; a sample one blew apart at breakfast, leaking the extra runny (for today only) jam onto my fingers and on the plate, to make it look like blood, another one of their fascinations, or else the real thing. So the all-but one package of corn tortillas got tossed as they break up way too easy and are messed with to be a troublesome food item.
A short posting for this rainy day, and also with an increased amount of plasma flashes (light projections in various colors), and masers. In the latter case, the fuzzy ball types, usually paired and in formation, are bouncing in and out of my central vision, even if I look up or look at something different. The overhead pounding noise (12" of concrete and steel) has also been administered, getting through my earmuffs.
Other perp activity confluences are that they had me do a nut shave last night, and the razor got tossed too, and the garbage was put out as part of this morning's cleaning efforts. It seems the shaving disruption games are reaching a fever peak of late, though as always, they can make it worse.
And I am getting my finger tips removed of sensation as I am typing, and don't have to wonder anymore where all those pins and needles sensations came from all these years.
1340h
Another, the third, round of attempting to dry my towels. I go to the laundry room to find them wet and warm in the dryer, about the same degree of wetness at the end of the first drying cycle (one hour). This time, I take the laundry to the seventh floor and use the dryer there as it is clear that I am getting royally jerked with over tumble drying my laundry. This isn't the first time that dryer time has been extended by dint of fuckery, but it is the worst yet.
And the in-town brother calls as I furiously writing down the details in my paper journal, and then he tells me about his flat tire problems. What was that all about?
1500h
A screaming session after showering due to lint and crumb arrivals from nowhere. Then the brown crumb flashed red colors when in peripherial vision, and that was cause for getting pissed some more. Nearly all of the bathroom has been cleaned today, and the assholes are back at it and dumping their debris on the clean surfaces. I had to take a shower to clean up and a forced shit that they made a mess of; four plungings and a shower to clean up. All to use the towel that I put there minutes earlier, coming from the third time round tumble drying attempt, from the dryer on the 7th floor. So it seems they wanted me to step onto the just dried bath towel and use another in the same load to dry myself. Both dryers had plastic vanes in the drum, though different kinds as they were different models and makes. Such are the level of games with laundry and using it.
And soon I depart for the city bus, and no doubt is will be chock full of Fuckwits, aka gangstalkers, as they have me in this unique state of recently using a just dried towel to dry myself, a seeming "need" of theirs. There have been plenty of towel sabotage events over the years, and it seems they are utterly relentless as they are insane over finding out whatever it is that drives them.
I will post this now, while the funny pop up boxes and icons are nascent, and blog off.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
In the Beam
1905h
The dusk onset faux reflectance off the opposite residence tower windows that has been photographically documented in prior blog posting, has started up tonight. But this time it is getting through the pulled curtains, and now they are flashing it, as if the sun could possibly flash at 3 to 4x/second, and with a direct bead on me. This comes through the E. facing windows, and catches me in my left peripherial vision. And if that weren't contrived and targeted enough, the overhead clunking and pounding has started up to simultaneously make a noise and create vibration by whacking 12" of concrete at the exact moment the light is flashing. Not unlike those zappings I get with simultaneous noise of the same kind. Can we say targeted and abused?
And a day at the First Feral Family (FFF) home cleaning windows today, always a big deal for the assholes given the number of Fuckwits cleaning windows on my gangstalked beat. And too, they are all over me when doing the farm work, passing in and out of the greenhouses of glass. And the assholes let me in on some of their obsession over glass; it comes from silica, an abundant mineral, and it would have certain earth energies (if you believe in this theme that the sickos consistently present to me, and seems reasonable given what I have observed and been harassed with). So in other words, the earth energies of the glass would interfere with the earth energies of where I would be located.
And a major city bus freakshow when returning from the First Feral Family home today; A 1702h bus into downtown from the suburbs, a "reverse commute" and it was standing room only after the first third of the route, in suburbia still. It was a flush of four dudes around me in black first off, then they departed singly and in came the polyglot Fuckwits wearing all colors; a Phillipino in pink beside me, a dude in white in front, a woman in an blue anorak in front, and also doing the "musical seats" act, having the Fuckwits move about and sitting in place of a just-departed Fuckwit. My second Fuckwit seatmate was a woman reading a book with a big splatter of deep blue ink on the edge of the pages. Where have I seen that before? Why, it was the opening assault, actually pre-assault of 04-15-2002, where they entered my apartment and moved things around, made it as if it had been carelessly searched, and put a splatter of blue ink on my office chair mat. And countless marks of blue ink on my fingers and hands even with no actual pen tip contact.
Other city bus freakshow acts were this same woman, when it came time for me to get off, I said that I needed to get to the door as I was against the window, and she looks at me and gets up and precedes me to the door. Nothing like "me too", or "thanks for reminding me" or anything civil, just this bizarre look and then she gets up. Fucking bizarre. And the woman in front of me got off at the same stop as well. One went E. the other N. and I went S. The 90 degree orthogonal split again.
And it was Blue (Plastic) Tarpaulin day today; first the ragged and disintegrating one at the FFF home was somehow removed from covering the pile of dandelions and weeds I had picked, even if it was held down by stones and sheltered on two sides by a hedge and building. Just before I left I placed it over the pile again, little realizing how important that became. There was at least 15 blue tarpaulins enroute while in suburbia, and at least another dozen in pickup trucks, and lo, if they didn't cut down a 30" healthy tree on one frontyard (significant landscape tree) and cut it into 12" sections and then cover most of it with a blue tarp. Fucking bizarre that it needed to be covered at all, as there isn't any major rainstorm coming, and the wood is wet to begin with, and will take months of drying out. And some vehicles and campers covered in blue tarps as well. And when I got off the bus, crossed the street, I had a three vagrant shopping cart honor guard, each loaded with a profusion of plastic bags, and at least one covered in a blue plastic tarpaulin.
And there have been at least two strange tree cuttings in this neighborhood in the last month, where both of them on two streets, no more than 150' apart, were cut at the 4' level with all the branches and the trunk removed, just this elevated stump. There is something the perps would like to discover as it relates to trees, putting down an annual ring each year, and then exposing it to all and sundry on the street at this high stump level. There was nothing wrong with either tree, and it it is odd that it is one out of a healthy row.
Other interesting (likely) complimentary activity has been to screw me out of making tortillas in the typical way of preparing all the ingredients and then making all of it. They screwed me around so there was no tortillas, and with the chicken meat cut up, I had to make do, have some with the tapenade and call it dinner. That left a whack of chicken left as it it a four meal dish, and it was put in the glass bowl yesterday for making tonight's dinner. So, post-dinner, I have the chicken meat in me that was sitting cut up and in the small glass bowl, prepared yesterday, a very first for the Fuckwits to engage in this small difference in seven years of making me eat the same dinner and lunch. So, I am not too surprised that they are flashing me so to speak, as they do this all the time with headlights at the ready, and will insert fake reflectance to beam at me whenever they wish. And if they need a flash when there are no props, why, a plasma beam will show up in front of me on a last resort basis.
2250h
And a bid deal over looking at motherboards online tonight, not that I am in the market for one, but my mother's PC, now fixed due a cable problem apparently, still has a cast of FUD over it as it "might be" the problem says the tech. So... with being techno-spooked, I was looking at possible acquisitions that would suit her budget and be a current day model with the best possible performance. And lo, if a new AMD CPU wasn't released today and is the talk of the tech circuit, and some interesting models were bookmarked, one of most singular activities the perps like me to be doing online besides typo sabotage. I got overhead clunkings, sirens and with specially wobbly siren variants added on, I got the above mentioned flashes, and got sent to take a crap which became problematic (sparing the details), and few other concurrent impositions and trademark perp incursions, one being excessive farts when I have no recent food intake.
Other events at the FFF home were the SAC overflights again, or at least, the noise thereof, at least three. There were other aircraft as well, though less than the usual for my appearances there.
2300h
I thought this was going to be a long detailed blog posting tonight, but I am skipping a few things here. I also did a gasoline filling of my mother's vehicle, in keeping with the perps' insane but consistent interest in having me be exposed to petroleum products of various kinds. Another was for her to write this ridiculous handwritten letter to her solicitor in the UK, totally unreadable, when I had already sent the message by email on her behalf yesterday, because her PC was taken out of commision. So why would she send this letter to repeat what was already dispatched, and have me take it to the mail box while she went to the bank? There is some consistency there, dispatching me twice in two days in the same capacity, carrying/sending a message on her behalf.
Then while waiting in the vehicle for her to return, an unholy parade of gangstalking vehicles erupted behind the red Photinias that line the parking lot, and they all got to parade in their color coordinated glory, and that included the pickups with the load of miscellaneous goods, and... blue tarps. Two vehicles arrived at the same time and parked next to me, one on each side. On the left was a big honking silver-grey SUV and it was the fourth such colored vehicle along that same L. side. On the R. side was a sedan with a granny in a scarlet red anorak that dithered for at least three minutes in the vehicle, then got out very slowly and proceeded to sort things out on the hood of her vehicle for at least two minutes to ensure I got a good shot of her red coat, and then went back in the vehicle and then messed about for a few more minutes, and then repeated the nonsense of standing at the hood of her vehicle again for about the same duration. Fucking bizarre to say the least. This was the post-lunch time, and lo, if I wasn't jerked into having red tomato soup for lunch as the more preferable one was not to be had. And I had red meat for lunch as well, something that isn't normally availible as the deli chicken is there in abundance, but it too was gone, with my mother going on about how it was inexplicably missing.
And when in the kitchen, at the location that I usually cut the cooked beef meat on the cutting board on Sunday nights when I have my one beef intake of the week, a red stain arrived on the laminate countertop and it could not be removed. All I can suggest is that it serves as a localized red reference at that very location where I cut up cooked red meat.
Enough color samplings and suggestions, and I am calling this one done for today.
The dusk onset faux reflectance off the opposite residence tower windows that has been photographically documented in prior blog posting, has started up tonight. But this time it is getting through the pulled curtains, and now they are flashing it, as if the sun could possibly flash at 3 to 4x/second, and with a direct bead on me. This comes through the E. facing windows, and catches me in my left peripherial vision. And if that weren't contrived and targeted enough, the overhead clunking and pounding has started up to simultaneously make a noise and create vibration by whacking 12" of concrete at the exact moment the light is flashing. Not unlike those zappings I get with simultaneous noise of the same kind. Can we say targeted and abused?
And a day at the First Feral Family (FFF) home cleaning windows today, always a big deal for the assholes given the number of Fuckwits cleaning windows on my gangstalked beat. And too, they are all over me when doing the farm work, passing in and out of the greenhouses of glass. And the assholes let me in on some of their obsession over glass; it comes from silica, an abundant mineral, and it would have certain earth energies (if you believe in this theme that the sickos consistently present to me, and seems reasonable given what I have observed and been harassed with). So in other words, the earth energies of the glass would interfere with the earth energies of where I would be located.
And a major city bus freakshow when returning from the First Feral Family home today; A 1702h bus into downtown from the suburbs, a "reverse commute" and it was standing room only after the first third of the route, in suburbia still. It was a flush of four dudes around me in black first off, then they departed singly and in came the polyglot Fuckwits wearing all colors; a Phillipino in pink beside me, a dude in white in front, a woman in an blue anorak in front, and also doing the "musical seats" act, having the Fuckwits move about and sitting in place of a just-departed Fuckwit. My second Fuckwit seatmate was a woman reading a book with a big splatter of deep blue ink on the edge of the pages. Where have I seen that before? Why, it was the opening assault, actually pre-assault of 04-15-2002, where they entered my apartment and moved things around, made it as if it had been carelessly searched, and put a splatter of blue ink on my office chair mat. And countless marks of blue ink on my fingers and hands even with no actual pen tip contact.
Other city bus freakshow acts were this same woman, when it came time for me to get off, I said that I needed to get to the door as I was against the window, and she looks at me and gets up and precedes me to the door. Nothing like "me too", or "thanks for reminding me" or anything civil, just this bizarre look and then she gets up. Fucking bizarre. And the woman in front of me got off at the same stop as well. One went E. the other N. and I went S. The 90 degree orthogonal split again.
And it was Blue (Plastic) Tarpaulin day today; first the ragged and disintegrating one at the FFF home was somehow removed from covering the pile of dandelions and weeds I had picked, even if it was held down by stones and sheltered on two sides by a hedge and building. Just before I left I placed it over the pile again, little realizing how important that became. There was at least 15 blue tarpaulins enroute while in suburbia, and at least another dozen in pickup trucks, and lo, if they didn't cut down a 30" healthy tree on one frontyard (significant landscape tree) and cut it into 12" sections and then cover most of it with a blue tarp. Fucking bizarre that it needed to be covered at all, as there isn't any major rainstorm coming, and the wood is wet to begin with, and will take months of drying out. And some vehicles and campers covered in blue tarps as well. And when I got off the bus, crossed the street, I had a three vagrant shopping cart honor guard, each loaded with a profusion of plastic bags, and at least one covered in a blue plastic tarpaulin.
And there have been at least two strange tree cuttings in this neighborhood in the last month, where both of them on two streets, no more than 150' apart, were cut at the 4' level with all the branches and the trunk removed, just this elevated stump. There is something the perps would like to discover as it relates to trees, putting down an annual ring each year, and then exposing it to all and sundry on the street at this high stump level. There was nothing wrong with either tree, and it it is odd that it is one out of a healthy row.
Other interesting (likely) complimentary activity has been to screw me out of making tortillas in the typical way of preparing all the ingredients and then making all of it. They screwed me around so there was no tortillas, and with the chicken meat cut up, I had to make do, have some with the tapenade and call it dinner. That left a whack of chicken left as it it a four meal dish, and it was put in the glass bowl yesterday for making tonight's dinner. So, post-dinner, I have the chicken meat in me that was sitting cut up and in the small glass bowl, prepared yesterday, a very first for the Fuckwits to engage in this small difference in seven years of making me eat the same dinner and lunch. So, I am not too surprised that they are flashing me so to speak, as they do this all the time with headlights at the ready, and will insert fake reflectance to beam at me whenever they wish. And if they need a flash when there are no props, why, a plasma beam will show up in front of me on a last resort basis.
2250h
And a bid deal over looking at motherboards online tonight, not that I am in the market for one, but my mother's PC, now fixed due a cable problem apparently, still has a cast of FUD over it as it "might be" the problem says the tech. So... with being techno-spooked, I was looking at possible acquisitions that would suit her budget and be a current day model with the best possible performance. And lo, if a new AMD CPU wasn't released today and is the talk of the tech circuit, and some interesting models were bookmarked, one of most singular activities the perps like me to be doing online besides typo sabotage. I got overhead clunkings, sirens and with specially wobbly siren variants added on, I got the above mentioned flashes, and got sent to take a crap which became problematic (sparing the details), and few other concurrent impositions and trademark perp incursions, one being excessive farts when I have no recent food intake.
Other events at the FFF home were the SAC overflights again, or at least, the noise thereof, at least three. There were other aircraft as well, though less than the usual for my appearances there.
2300h
I thought this was going to be a long detailed blog posting tonight, but I am skipping a few things here. I also did a gasoline filling of my mother's vehicle, in keeping with the perps' insane but consistent interest in having me be exposed to petroleum products of various kinds. Another was for her to write this ridiculous handwritten letter to her solicitor in the UK, totally unreadable, when I had already sent the message by email on her behalf yesterday, because her PC was taken out of commision. So why would she send this letter to repeat what was already dispatched, and have me take it to the mail box while she went to the bank? There is some consistency there, dispatching me twice in two days in the same capacity, carrying/sending a message on her behalf.
Then while waiting in the vehicle for her to return, an unholy parade of gangstalking vehicles erupted behind the red Photinias that line the parking lot, and they all got to parade in their color coordinated glory, and that included the pickups with the load of miscellaneous goods, and... blue tarps. Two vehicles arrived at the same time and parked next to me, one on each side. On the left was a big honking silver-grey SUV and it was the fourth such colored vehicle along that same L. side. On the R. side was a sedan with a granny in a scarlet red anorak that dithered for at least three minutes in the vehicle, then got out very slowly and proceeded to sort things out on the hood of her vehicle for at least two minutes to ensure I got a good shot of her red coat, and then went back in the vehicle and then messed about for a few more minutes, and then repeated the nonsense of standing at the hood of her vehicle again for about the same duration. Fucking bizarre to say the least. This was the post-lunch time, and lo, if I wasn't jerked into having red tomato soup for lunch as the more preferable one was not to be had. And I had red meat for lunch as well, something that isn't normally availible as the deli chicken is there in abundance, but it too was gone, with my mother going on about how it was inexplicably missing.
And when in the kitchen, at the location that I usually cut the cooked beef meat on the cutting board on Sunday nights when I have my one beef intake of the week, a red stain arrived on the laminate countertop and it could not be removed. All I can suggest is that it serves as a localized red reference at that very location where I cut up cooked red meat.
Enough color samplings and suggestions, and I am calling this one done for today.
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