Putting On the Power Ditz

Some relax time here at the First Feral Family house, and to add some reflections on this past week.

And recount some things from today, my perp-abetting mother in fine form, putting on the power-ditzing act again. Making out to be a hard of hearing ditz, in public of course and when shopping. Not only does she needs things repeated, and at louder volume, she gets terms and words crossed up, and constantly needs to be corrected. And adroitly asking irrelevant questions of the the sales assistants, particularly timed to hold up the financial transaction, a long running high-Fuckove/stalk moment. Now post Christmas, it is without the surge of gangstalking assholes around, tailing me from aisle to aisle, and no chocolates section at LD this time.

This time it was two garden centers, in the quest for supplies to fix up the raised beds that are rotting out. I dug one bed up two days ago, and was treated to the aircraft noise show in part as I was digging up old compost. Compost is another perp fixation as regular readers will know. And too, the adjacent (8' away) of the cedar hedge roots ran inside the landscape barrier fabric, but inside the untreated wood and rotted it out from the inside. Now the plan is to put pots directly on landscape fabric, but bounding the whole thing so that raccoons cannot feed upon the planted  seeds and ripening produce.

My farm-worker friend came around for a hike this morning, and we went to the park where I took Ms.C back in 2003 on her only visit to Victoria. (She from Everett, WA). The outing was timed to continue to delay me in taking down the chicken and stucco wire fencing of the above  mentioned raised bed, as these formed the fence around it, (two in fact). And yes, metal fencing (and mesh) is another big perp deal, going back to 1800 when they hounded James Tilley Matthews, TI-0, with "air looms" (a loom shed which is made of steel wires spanning parallel  wood supports. This was featured in the book, "The Air Loom Gang", since re-titled "The Influencing Machine" (UK) or, "A Visionary Madness" (USA), the latter title to hype the mental instability angle the author (or publisher?) is playing up. (Also at Good Reads, the "Linda" authored review seems to be fair minded). Nowadays, the modern perp prop is shopping carts, usually the metal rod fabricated kind. And so, farting about with steel fencing is similar, all those cross welded wires. (And it may be why the perps like me to work in vineyards and trellis wires, now 5 years worth).

A pre-Christmas event was to take my mother to the Silver Threads Center and have a dinner with the duckies, the old folks. There was at least 120 or so, mostly with white hair, and the odd dye job. The woman next to me had just come off surgery, she telling me this with a certain penetrating gaze, somewhat uncharacteristic of her as it turned out. There was a serving staff of some 10 or so, and they were known to the community of duckies there. (My mother and I were invited, and she has no prior association with the organization or location). Anyhow, there was one woman server, and for the moment, I will name her as the Attractive Black Haired Woman, (ABHW) She was 40-ish and attractive with black shoulder length hair, and a ready and natural smile. And lo, if she didn't spend much of her time crossing my visual path to the stage, and often stopping there for me to see her in profile as well (welcomed too), a common perp tactic.

There were two door prizes at this event, and lo of all coincidences, if the woman beside me (who had recent surgery) didn't win one prize. Which was a perfect excuse for the ABHW to come to our table and place herself between us to deliver the door prize and chat to this woman and wish her well on her recovery. Call it a "babe-in-close, but without any direct engagement event"; a mouthful for sure, but it is most odd that the perps still need to incrementally add someone attractive into my proximity after the "warm up" posing she had done until then. Following the dinner there was a one hour concert and as far as I could tell, she was sitting on the side and enjoying the concert like anyone else.

The ABHW wasn't done yet, as she also was on door duty at the end of the event, and lo, if my mother and I weren't the first ones to leave, everyone else holding back, another common perp crowd management technique I Have come to know. She had time to accompany us out the door for the first 10', guiding us with her LED flashlight even if the exit was well lit. (The ABHW was also outside when we arrived, on parking duty). So, whoever she was, she got full coverage; outside in the dimming light on arrival, inside for the 2 hour event, and then, outside when departing. Anyhow, I find it interesting that after 14.5 years of stalking, insane harassment, staging my every move and moment, the perps still need to arrange babe-visage time in this incremental and incidental (appearing) fashion. Just what is this all about? The perps tell me telepathically they are eliminating all my dopaminergic reactions to attractiveness and aesthetic form; be it females, (form, figure, clothes, face etc.), interesting designs and art, and all other such intrinsic human reactions.

Though the perps also tell me that this whole arranged charade is a "warm up" to their long running plan (the ML notions they constantly plant in mind), for a real romantic event.  They don't get it; just leave me the fuck alone, I have had enough.

And of course, the perps telepathically inserted romantic notions over ABHW for the whole evening. And in nearly all these such events, they made sure I noticed that she had no wedding ring. And as always, my native and unfettered reaction is no romantic considerations are warranted; I am a TI with everyone knowing about it (probably in advance), and my life is governed and mind controlled to my every breath and notion, I am 20 years older than her,  I earn piss-all and have no savings, and in this case, I live in another town, so forget it. Normal and reasonable reactions are not allowed in TI World; unreasonable romantic notions must be inserted even if it is the last thing I would consider on my own.

And what is it about having prostate cancer that begets such a yawn from those who should care, aka, give a shit? My farm worker friend says, "you are fit and healthy, you should be OK", which is similar to what the treating naturopath said to me in November. Another lady at the laundromat, said that I was smart and I should be OK. My former landlady wasn't too moved either, and she is the caring kind and works at a care home for crissakes. Many men die from this disease, and to get any kind of empathetic registry cannot be had in this bullshit storm I am kept in.

12-29-2016
My daughter came over to visit today, per plan. Except that she came early and the perps got me up late so I had no breakfast and was still in the shower when she arrived. (Another perp manipulation in full form here at the First Feral Family house is to screw with my wake up time and ensure I run out of time to shower or shave).

A blonde babe at the opposite table provided major distraction, speaking with a man facing opposite, back to me.

And as it "happpened", two blonde women arrived at the table behind me too. My daughter is blonde-ish too.

12-30-2016
finally, a decent weather day, and I got out to "root among the roots", taking these two raised beds apart as one was invaded by cedar hedge roots, and the other by pine tree roots. No doubt the perps got great mileage out of this, as they are are obsessed with plant roots. In this case the roots were above ground, mostly circulating around the beds between the barrier fabric and the milled logs that made the bed. The logs were mostly rotted out, and the barrier fabric held up pretty well, but still roots were getting in and feeding from the soil that was put there to support the vegetable plantings.

And no activity involving digging soil or composting goes without an accompanying noise parade. The Noise Maker Neighbor, got out his power washer and washed one of the two Ford pick up trucks that frequent the place, opposite the First Feral Family house. Then came on a moderate amount of aircraft noise, then neighbors on either side, both away since Dec. 20 to my limited knowledge arrived", and did their backyard activities, including putting young kids out on one side.

12-31-2016
Accompanying my power ditzing perp abetting mother on a shopping trip again; plenty of back and forths to get things she "forgot" at the supper market. Another ditz move, besides her erstwhile dithering and doddering, is to stay in place and block aisles, or better yet (from the perp pespective), aisle junctions. And then have the cluster fucking stalkers line up behind her, and I get to inform her she is blocking the aisle. As if she didn't know. She serves as the best excuse to slow me down in supermarkets and any other perp venue, as my normal (by myself) routine is that if I sense I am getting stalked I walk faster and/or get the fuck out of there ASAP.

I got the Penticton "come-from"behind" stalking treatment here in Victoria while at the gangstalk prone RB Market. I was at the mushrooms, a long standing  perp interest food, (more than most), and this blonde woman in yellow sneakers came up from behind and reaches out for something high up, her arm suddenly arriving in my peripheral  vision. My standard reaction to these personal space intrusions is to then move out of range entirely, and then of course, the stalker gets to occupy the very space that I stood upon in short order. I didn't get an "excuse me" out of  this asshole (but cute) blonde, which exactly replicates public shopping behavior that I first experienced in Penticton. Now it erupts here in Victoria. Not to mention that my peripheral vision gets tested, a long running perp Fuckover stunt. Naturally, she, and a regular retinue of stalkers crossed my path at least 3x each in this ridiculous gangstalk-athon that is my public life.

All a warm up for slinging compost this afternoon in my mother's back yard. The garden help (Farmworker Friend) hasn't been too diligent on cleaning up the yard as she is supposed to do, so I get to attend to cleaning up the organic debris field she leaves.

01-03-2017
I am getting dithered in not getting this posted, so I will launch this anyhow, as I don't see getting this completed.

Crumb Inundatations

Sept. 19, 2010
1320h
 A  day off from farm work, that will make it a three day weekend with a doctor appointment tomorrow. Just the usual "visit the East Indian" trip, no specific purpose other than that. He might have one his "students" in there too, or sometimes another doctor. Last time it was an Asian shrink who came to sit in, so it would be combination of Asian and East Indian male doctors. I am on record with predicting my next replacement doctor to be a negro, going up the brown skin scale, from Caucasian, Asian, East Indian where it currently is. Though I am told that negro shrinks are a rarity, I am sure the sickos will find one when they need it. As in "when", not if, though I cannot be 100% sure, but it seems the perps are still working on their negro exposures, especially male negroes, possibly related to traumatization associations of their doing when I was young, abused, and then recall deleted. It seems that subconscious recallections are what they are working on, and have been since they went into overt harassment in 2002. I say this abusive and depredative life rape has some 3 to 4 years to go, given that it has taken them 8 years to getting around to allowing me have food cut with a ceramic blade instead of steel.

I got two pieces of bum advice yesterday, found out today. The tea shop was said to have Bodum teapots with infusers, and the nearby coffee shop was said to have manual coffee grinders. I went and did a post-rain excursion to these two stores and got skunked on both. I did get some loose tea though, something I had wanted to do for over a year. That is how it goes; crank me up on an interest and then keep reminding me of it every few weeks for a year or more, and then finally allow me to execute the plan. Gangstalking and other stunts enroute and return and in the store are not optional.

Another long standing event that was allowed to be completed today was laundering my microfiber coat with a fleece liner. It looked scuzzy and the assholes wouldn't let me wash it until today. Wonders never cease.

The 1405h #27 bus was 10 minutes late, long enough to put on an extensive gangstalking vehicular show with the Asian woman rudely standing in mid-sidewalk some 7' away. When the bus finally came, why, it was near full, and I end up getting a seat beside her and her odd head drooping habits. I never did figure out what she was doing exactly, and whether it might of been an intense music listening experience. Her standing in mid-sidewalk next to the bus shelter meant that the procession of ambulatory gangstalkers that came from behind her all had an excuse to step onto the ashphalt street to get around her, and she didn't move after the first such obvious signs of obstructing public egress. I have never seen an Asian so fucking rude before, but there are so many firsts in this role as an exotic abusee.


Sept. 20, 2010
1600h
A stayover at the First Family Feral home last night, with prior serial visitations by my daughter in the afternoon (scraping for donations fo Run For the Cure (huge cancer fundraiser here)) and then my in-town brother for dinner. Then a near pointless trip to Lee Valley Tools for a chain mail glove to protect me using the recently purchased mandoline slicer, but as it was $80 plus taxes I defered, not having done any other prior shopping to find alternatives. Then an hour of yard work, resuming the digging job of removing the plastic sheeting buried in the soil, but as it was so extensive I had to cut it off and make another project out of the rest of it, as it is over one foot deep. This digging project to level a 10' square backyard corner had begun four weeks ago, and has already uncovered three other buried plastic sheets. I assume this is all perp related as they are totally consumed with the effects on plastics on soil, plant growth, water contact, and of course ageing. I don't think my parents put the plastic sheeting down, as they had no reason to. And I see that there is orange colored polyethylene plastic there, a relatively new product and different from the transparent and the black colored poly sheet that has been around for some decades.

And while my daughter was visiting with their family standard poodle, the next door neighbor saw fit to engage in some soil slamming to shake the house a little and add concurrent noise. The guy had started a fence repair job and "decided" that it was served by slamming the post down into the dug hole, presumably to compact the bottom of the hole so he could pour concrete in it to set the fence post. As mentioned, the sickos will use any excuse to increase the noise and vibration level, especially when there is more family about.

Another perp interest is plants, their roots, and soil interaction. The above mentioned digging job uncovered many roots of the nearby pine trees that had grown around, or between layered plastic sheets. This digging job exposed the roots, as the plastic had guided them to some extent. This same digging job had been held up for some three weeks as it was raining each of the past three Sundays, my only normal day off, save today. The doctor appointment forced me to take a weekday off, which was cleared with the employer in advance. As always, the SAC overhead aircraft noise started up when I started digging, and was near continuous for the hour that I was engaged in this activity. Other "regular noise" was the off-on percussive roofing noise, as if someone had started yet another roofing job in my proximity, wielding an air gun intermitently, unlike any roofing job I have known.

And the doctor appointment was duly attended by an "assistant" who asked all kinds of questions, making out that he wasn't up to speed with my case history. It went OK, and I didn't figuratively impale myself on describing gangstalking, harassment and the progression of mind control research. The major pissoff was that the appointment started 10 minutes late while the procession of wierds and oddities passed by, some doing back-and-forths, some doing synchronized seated posture changes, and others varying their spinal orientation, from slouch to bent over, like they were going to take a crap. I reckon ithat it was more important that I spend extra time sitting in the copper colored upholstered chairs, given that it is a highly featured gangstalking color, and that it is the third change in seating that has been arranged in that waiting room in the past seven years.

Said "assistant" was similar in face and eye appearence to the former work colleague I keep in touch with, and who emailed me two days ago about meeting a mutual colleague who suffers from MS. We didn't get together as it "happened" as there was no return phone call from our colleague. Such interactions that don't reach fruition have been noted in prior situations where a near-doppelganger "happens" to appear not long afterward. The perps seem to be seeking some kind of intrinsic neural signature of communication with the same person, be it by email (the past two days), phone (in the past), or in person with them morphed over (possibly today).

As one TI indicated to me early on, the sickos read one's spine like it is an aerial. And that seems to be true, as the fuckers are all over me (extra gangtalking) when I walk from yoga class back to my apartment. And too, a public yoga class out yesterday when I went to two stores, getting skunked at both on what I intended to purchase. The manual coffee grinder and the teapot with a stainless steel insert basket instead of a nylon one will have to wait yet again. The perps seem driven to have me get a glass teapot, and like to noisestalk me while the color changes while the tea is steeping. Heaven knows when they will let me have a ceramic teapot.

A city bus ride to downtown, then a freakshow at the supermarket while shopping enroute to my apartment. The assholes fucked me out of getting the bus I wanted; I was to get a #11 and the screwed me out of knowing that is the one I take, and I had to walk another half block to get a #14. Like WTF; why is it important to them that they screw me out of an intended bus? I don't make those kind of mistakes as I know most of the bus routes in this town, and yet they fucked my cognition and access to my knowledge.

1715h
A sudden Firefox browser crash a few minutes ago. All to follow the prior boot-up where last tabs were to come up but didn't for "some reason". About 99% of the time I boot up Firefox I have the last most tabs as it saves opening new ones and serves to remind me of what I was last working on, looking at or planning to revisit. Soo.. to change things up as they do, they fucked my Firefox boot up to have no saved tabs from the last session. That is how it goes in Sabotage Land, even the most picayune habits or routines get trashed for their own sake.

An eruption of dude talk from a neaby balcony; I closed the window and put on my earmuffs and was not able to atenuate the noise level by any appreciable degree. I don't why the perps insist on arranging loud dudes to banter just out of word-audible range, but still within voice noise audible range, but that is how it has been for over eight years, these ersatz dude chats in my proximity. And I don't have any particular insight or given read as to why they are doing this either.

2130h
An noisy evening as the dude banter re-started again while making dinner and continued while eating and cleaning the dishes. That, and the thumpy stereo noise from a putative neighbor was my accompaniment on this particular Monday. Another first was that I used my new Microplane cheese shredder today, acquired two days ago and without the usual months of "fallow time" for most new acquisitions before they are permitted to be used. I haven't figured out why this applies to some but not other items. And some items are acquired and so far, years later, never used. The safety toed boots were bought in 2008 in the anticipation of future construction laboring work that never materialized, and haven't been worn yet. Which suggests a future job in some capacity where tey will be worn, but so far, nothing yet and I have no idea what it might be. IT work would not ordinarily have a call for this footwear, but in my circumstances one just does not know what is around the corner. The sickos don't like me to have much money, and a decent wage job doesn't seem to be in the offing. Though, they could get me on the expense side if I had a decent paying job; automotive expenses are often a money pit they like to exploit with strange and unexpected vehicle repairs. Been there, done that.

Enough for a post, and insurance that this isn't blown away like recent perp blog sabotage.

The Turban Collective

Aug. 30, 2010
1900h
Back from a day of loading daffodil bulbs into a conveyor hopper, though I cannot complain, as I was in the sunlight, and all my co-workers were in the shade. The conveyor belt passes through a wall, though not inside the building. Such is the continuance of the perp sunlight/shade/skin reaction/skin color research objectives. Some put on high SPF sunblock for the day, while they have me using SPF 15 twice a day (if they don't dither me into "forgetting"), and missing some locations and not others to create more variation of coverage of shirt, sunblock treated skin and hat shadow/blocking. I suppose the Vitamin D component might be part of this, as the perps seem to have a strong interest in this as well, Vitamin D being generated from sunlight, and it has wide repercussions on one's immune system. Other co-workers might be aiding the variation game by putting on high SPF sunblock in the morning and nothing for the rest of the day. Usually, I put on the SPF 15 sunblock at 1000h and 1200h PDT, which covers the most penetrating time of day. all I know is that the perps have a sustained and wide interest in this topic, which included at one time, Before Overt Harassment, using tanning beds, though only short durations of 5 minutes or less.

Onto the title topic. As regular readers will know, any kind of hat or head adornment is an Unfavfored object/appearance, and turbans rank near the top of the fugly list. And they "got me" when on the city bus heading to the farm laborer job. I see a brown turbaned E. Indian get on and then plant himself near the front of the bus, visible through a plexiglas panel. I was in the rearmost row seat, and he gives me a stare. Fine, I go back to reading my newspaper, and have another look in a minute or so, and now the fucker is looking outside in profile, a common multiple pose of the Unfavored. Nothing to exceptional so far. I read my newspaper for a minute, and "happen" to look up and in the direction of said brown turbaned E. Indian, and lo, if an intervening but previously obsured black turbaned E. Indian leans out from the obstructing heads, to present himself and his freaking black turban, which "happens" to be spatially arranged side by side with the brown turban. Like WTF; if I loathe the sight of turbans, which I do now as it is perp managed mindfuck imperative (didn't care for them before, but it was not big deal), then why is is that these assholes are arranged on the bus to sneak in yet another one that I didn't know about?

That was bad enough, but there is this Punjabi couple at the farm who keep posing their brown-ness and yellow turban. And today, he arranged himself to be behind the washroom door as I opened it to enter, and if that wasn't enough, he came back in to the washroom while I was still cleaning my arms from the dust that had accumulated on them. All I can say is this pursuit of me and presenting all the things that I don't care to see has become the all consuming industry/economic driver in this town.

The farm was once predominantly E. Indian labor until they had an economic downturn, and only this casual labor Punjabi couple is the representative pair. They spend no end of time posing when I am on break, or the 45 min. clusterfuck/marshalling at the begining of the work day. If I have some subconscious aversions to head ardornments and hats, I don't see that it is anybody's business but my own.

Aug. 31, 2010
1935h
While on the inbound city bus trip, a highway lane closure for a seeming accident, though it seemed more important to have two grey truck trailers there, one a semi, the other a dump struck. No sign of an accident, just a tent they set up.

Another accident in my neighborhood, at Pandora and Cook St., into the grocery store, though I walked by it mostly, to shop another block away. Interesting that it is a red truck, as the perps have been increasing the red gangstalking vehicles of late. They had four red vehicles parked in file for my twilight outing to the two local stores tonight.

The Shover Negro at the farm job has returned to work. How he gets away with not coming for a few days, and then gets to work is beyond me, as they told us over three weeks ago that this casual labor situation was over. And to boot, he shaved his head bald, and on the Unfavored list, a bald male negro (two females also) is about the most disgusting thing out there, more than red hair, Caucasian bald heads, tattoos, and the grossly overweight. Don't ask me how this ranking of Unfavored gangstalkers got started, or even why the Unfavored list even started. It used to be a no big deal thing if I saw any of the above worst list.).

Big time rain today, and we started at work trying to make the daffodil bulb sorting/loading machinery work with the wet bulbs and the attendant sticky wet soil, but the machinery jammed up. So, it was weeding for the rest of the day in the greenhouse. As usual, the external noises started up when begining weeding, especially after break times, but this is so habitual now, at my parent's or brother's place, as well as work.

Not too bad, all in all, I get to work another month, as some of the causual labor folks got laid off today, as they like to get them done with at month's end, with the check ready. I suppose that might be why the finance guy did his strut through the warehouse today, so he could be seen as part of today's employment proceedings. The entire concept of employment, work, joblessness and other related terms is of intense perp interest. Any mention of these topics or other associations will be noisestalked, and even invoke a plasma or maser beam flitting by.

Sept. 01, 2010
in a remote field to pick daffodil bulbs with one other person. The forman "forgot" to pick us up at the end of the day, so we walked into Saanichton to catch the bus there. This meant I didn't get back to my hiking boots and made the inbound bus trip in my gumboots and green rain pants tucked into my pack.

Were kept from the payday line up; all our confreres got their paychecks and we didn't. No doubt this was all about some kind of distance dependent experimentation, keeping me away from them, and then seeing them on the bus when it came through.

Onto tomorrow, wearing my gumboots outbound this time.

My new kneepads have been duly sabotaged to have soil roll down behind them, stay in behind the kneepad, and then mess up my pants for laundering every night. So now, I will somehow have to deal with this new and regular incursion of mess, soil on my pants that erupts from behind the kneepads.

-Split couple, the Punjabi pair, who rarrely speak to each other.


Sept. 02, 2010
2115h
A daffodil bulb sorting job today, feeding the hopper.

Turbaned Punjabi behind doors again, twice in two days.

Black hoodie dude, three different ones in three days, all disguising their head for the first 30 to 50 minutes of work. Yesteray, the black hoodie dude was getting way to close, attempting to get in the bus before I got out, last in line, about 6 of us getting out, one being him.

Yellow shirt worn today, and the perps were all over me today, and tonight at the local supermarket; about 30 freaks, and then an extra 10 minute "hold up", aka checkout obstruction while the skinhead pissed around with his plastic bags, getting the peaches out, and then from his wallet, getting the credit card out out a plastic bag. Fucking ridiculous. Still worse than the Fuckwit in front of me with a small deli item that was wrapped in a reddish paper, holding it near his head with one finger stuck in his ear for no discernable reason, save the extra conventional Fuckover games.

Swpt. 03, 2010
1956h
Another day of loading bulbs into the hopper for inspection by the downstream laborers to select out all the rotten ones, and leave only good ones to go through to the boxes at the end.

Major depressive feelings, (read, planted mind state) this morning, and therfore wondering what the assholes are up to now.

Sep 05, 2010
1050h
A day off working, and another, being Labor Day tomorrow, and time I posted this for the week.

Nice to get up later, 0730h instead of 0445h for a work day. Though, plenty of provocations to get me riled up, some 40 or more deserved vocalized annoyance, though nothing outrageous to beget screaming rage-ifications. The provocations have increased since early August, a week before the TI meeting in Nanaimo, and the week they shut down one of the two elevators again. And the elevator is still out, prompting many trips up the stairs, as well as "just standing there" gangstalkers and othe feints and dodges with elevator egress. One such event took place in mind week when I was headed to the laundry room; the elevator "happened" to open up just as I turned the hallway corner and the 3x Fuckwit gangstalker on this floor emerged, the door stayed open for longer for me to see another dude leaning on the back wall of the elevator, and a simultaneous entry of another dude down the hallway, some 15' in front me. A three dude flush, all around me at the same time, and all ostensible engaged in other activities. Funny how these "dude flushes" keep "happening".

A similar "dude flush" occured earlier this week. As I passed by the Fort. St (at Douglas St.) bus stop, six dudes all aboput the same build and height and all wearing ball caps, filed out from the rear door of the bus and assembled into a five wide array across the full width of the sidewalk headed the same direction, and one walking  in formation on the street surface in the track of the bus some 3' from the curb. Truly a feat of orchestrated fuckery/gangstalking, as there is never this kind of exodus from a bus at 0630h on a weekday at this bus stop, as have walked this every weekday for two months this year, and four months last year. As inferred, these orchestrated confluences of males has occured often enough to get its own name, "dude flush".

And the freakshow frequency has also increased this week, that is, the within outing frequency, say a supermarket visit. Two days ago I amde an evening visit to get more milk, coffee and other items, and if there is one gangstalker jerkaround I have extreme loathing for it is getting my coffee beans ground at the store. I am captive for a few minutes until the coffee is ground in the machine, and this brings on the freaks and gangstalking weirs more than any other time. Those brown beans been ground into a brown powder and the whirring grinder are too much for the sickos to resist stacking the gangstalker scene with extra odd back and forths of Fuckwits behind me, loitering Fuckwits doing their head spins (and spinal twists) while standing in place, and other gormless dweebes passing through. Not to mention the skinheads, tattoo acts, chinless wonders, and other fugly Unfavored specimens.

Sept. 06, 2010
1245h
I was to continue digging and reshaping an area of my mother's backyard today, but the rain has come on and I am back here at Abuse Central, via a city bus trip into downtown where I live. They had the turbaned E. Indian ready for me, having drove past him waiting at the bus stop, as I drove my mother and her vehicle to a suburban mall where there is more choice at to buses. He got off after one stop after I got on, and he could of comfortably walked the bus trip length if he had wanted. But he isn't the only one doing strange short length bus trips these days, even on good weather days.

A holiday Monday, at 1020h, and although pissing rain, here were over 30 people on the bus headed to downtown. One woman standee passenger had two gardening tools in hand, both dirt laden, a trowel and a dandelion pry tool, not in a bag or anything. Fucking bizarre, chasing me with just-used gardening tools, and getting on at a location where it was mostly shopping, and few homes.

I got my bus shelter mate, a older puffy faced man sitting next to me on the bus, and on the other side I had a blonde woman in a brown jacket sit beside me, then getting off. She was soon replaced by another and cuter blonde woman in a black jacket and hood up, who at least smiled at she came in close to sit down. The array of gangstalkers at the bus rear door was set up beforehand, as I have seen this before where they line up across the rear doorway and have me pass through the line, a very common gangstalker arrangement. Tso of the assholes standing at the rear exit got in my way to hold onto the the grap rails on the bus at it lurched into the stop, which is primetime for the assholes to dump my ass on the floor, but it did not happen thankfully. This vignette seemed to be all about forcing me to relase my grasp, and then re-grasping the rail while the lurching bus was pulling into my stop. Fucking absurd that some asshole has to play fucking games over how I grasp a rail on the bus.

Other bullshit was last night when my in-town brother visited, going on about the sockey salmon that he wanted to purchase, and then didn't and then did. This was from native Indians at my farm labor work site, and eventually he did make contact via cell phone, and met the person halfway into Victoria, as they lived up-Island in Duncan. It did strike me as odd that he wanted to do the deal at 2000h on  a Sunday night when most people want to put their feet up, and even more odd that they each drove some 30 minutes each way to meet. Later he phoned to tell me it was a rip-off, as she said it was two frozen fish per bag, when it was a quarter of that. I cannot figure out this ongoing stunt show over salmon, but it seems to be a consistent part of the harrassment. Said brother brought some last night, just as there was a cooked piece ready for him, and I now posess it for cooking up tonight. That the piece of salmon was in my bag on the bus might of been the attraction for all those gangstalkers on the city bus freakshow. Though to be fair, there wasn't too many freaks today, just the turban bullshit, as most had their heads down and were reading books. I suppose this is the only way they can get their fuckers in close in a socially acceptable way, and it doesn't matter how ludicrous the setup is.

2100h
A two month catch up on my Quicken entries, this time using the Quicken 2010 upgrade to permit downloads from my online bank access. And of course there are some fields rearranged, and new popup boxes, and finally, renaming rules for the download payees so they don't clobber the recorded ones that I use.

Catching up to the July Quicken transactions was a brutal rage-ification show; the assholes messed with selection of categories, messed with the rules, blocked selections of certain categories, pissed with the calculator display, and many other dynamically applied sabotage events to keep me screaming at them, at least 50x over the two hours it took to do this one month.

After salmon dinner, I did the August Quicken entries, and there wasn't so much abuse thankfully, though they did knock out some eight downloaded transactions that had to be entered by manually, like I always did it before. I suppose they wanted to benchmark me with the old method on the new software version. And I note that $140 cash went missing in August, and $100 cash went missing in June. I would assume they are playing their wallet contents games as it seems to be vital to their fuckery, those colored bills and all. Presently, they have me down to no cash in my wallet, surely a big moment for them as this is rarely allowed to happen. Another rareity was having an orange $50 in my wallet for a week or so in August, before I had to pay for my hiking boot sole replacement in cash. There have been many wallet thefts over the years, some mysterious, as it was full of cash from an ATM withdrawal and in my coat, and I was at my desk the entire time. And yet, the wallet went missing from the office that afternoon. Now that I experience materialization and de-materialization of crumbs, dog hairs and lint on a daily basis, as well as larger objects less frequently, I now understood how these long past wallet disappearances occured.

I best post this and start a new blog tomorrow, another weekly one as I have such little time in the evenings for blogging. I am also getting dociled and recall depleted, as there is much more to blog about each day and "somehow" I cannot recall the specific events when I have the limited time to do so

Are There Cooperating TI's?

Aug. 23, 2010
1945h
A day of daffodil bulb picking in the field, just when I had assumed I would be on conveyor work at the warehouse. Well, I suppose, getting me and my new kneepads out there in the field was important, and so more kneepad time. These have some kind of gel inserts, so doubtless it will be of intense interest, a change up from the foam type. As mentioned many times, one's knees seem to be important for the sickos, as it must be some kind of chi energy center. I say this because I have had some remotely invoked knee pain, but also the gangstalkers like to put on a knee brace on one knee, usually black in color. Another time (2008), during a daffodil bulb throwing episode in which I was not involved in, one of the miscreants/operatives managed to throw one and nail me in the side of the right knee. And so, we are still at it, and too, the sickos will force me out tonight to get the Rx, and no doubt swarm me as my knees will likely be still emanating energy from the gel insert kneepads.

Back to the lead-in title question; the answer is that I don't know for sure, but I am begining to suspect that it is true. The twosome that arrived as casual labor on Friday, Aug. 20, 2010, for the daffodil farm work, were there again today, a Monday. As mentioned in the last post, they are identical in body form to two of the TI's I met the weekend before; one very large, and the other large. Different faces, but dead ringers if I looked from the neck down. As mentioned,  they seem to be making an effort to hang around me, and featuring themselves. And it was the same today. One of the TI's I have known for three years, and I believe she is legit. But she has baited me into past conversations that were set-up in hindsight, not to mention doing some brown latte bearing work in my presence when we met at a presentation last year.

Anyhow, whether morphed over or not, I don't really care, and the perps seem to be managing my "reaction" to one of suspicion, as they seem to know some things about the farm warehouse that only experienced workers would know, e.g. the supply of bottled water.

Aug. 24, 2010
2005h
Back from a hot day of daffodil bulb picking on the farm. Its what I do for $9/hour to augment this disability bullshit I recieve. I cannot think of a more physically taxing job, and here I am, in my third year of it.

And today was production count day, enumerating our filled boxes of daffodil bulbs, making for a minor gong show as the 20 or so bulb pickers were spread over 300' of farm field. The supervisor gave the enumeration job to several bulb pickers in turn, saving him the inconvenience. And so, my read was that this activity was tested by various males, each wearing different colors of clothing, hats even, and that this was important for the sickos. Tomorrow, I suspect, it will be the turn of Asians, females, and maybe the one token negro, the same dude that slammed me on the bus and then "shows up" at the farm as a prosepctive employee who then signs up. The next day he gives me a small shot in the back while weeding at a joint crew exercise. Needless to say, the karma is toxic, as the fucker doesn't know the meaning of the word "apology". Apalling maybe, but I won't tell him that.

Today, in the crew bus he sits next to the Cambodian dude who has followed me from the last farm job, on the buses, and then on the bulb picking job. But suddenly the Cambodian dude gets up, makes some excuse and sits at the back where there is no seat, just a heater. So..., the negro moves one seat sideways to then sit where the Cambodian dude was, and the other seat of the pair remained vacant. Like I said, there is nothing more inane that the perps like to engage in than their consumption of seat swapping, especially in inter-racial situations. (Or, having only negroes swap seats). This little vignette played in front of me, and it was only a five minute drive to the bulb fields in the crew bus.

The sirens have started up as I type, but I will mention that the recent headpains the sickos have been delivering over the past week have largely abated today.

Aug. 26
2045h
I see that my last entry got deleted, so here it is again. The assholes shut down my internet last night, as the ISP declared a "problem" after I was put through re-booting my router 5x or more.

More daffodil bulb picking, this time I was one of three tally folk, keeping track of a sub-set of daffodil bulb pickers and their bulb picking production. (It is in boxes, 24" x 14" or so, 8" deep, and to be filled to the handle level and then stacked in a particular row to facilitate later pick up with a truck). Which means I get my name called some 120x or more during the day, as we are spread along 300' of field rows.

They put the same negro on again, the one I know as Shover, as he gave me a shove when seated on the bus, and the next day at work, They, negro-ed me again with him at the homebound bus stop, and then on board with him and at least 4 more negroes of two parties. One negro woman had these disgusting square patches in her hair, making her hair worse than dreadlocks. I didn't think it was possible, but a new low in disgusting hair, aka "hurl do's" was attained today.

Back to name calling: there have been two incidents in the past 8 years where someone who didn't know me was calling out my name from afar. This time it is legit, as the bulb picking crew know me, and are calling me to note how many boxes they have filled since I last counted them. The perps do have a minor obsession as to having others call me by my name, or getting it totally incorrect, or getting hung up on the given names, as my first name is not the one I go by. Don't ask me why this is important to the assholes, but it is, and there has been no end of games related to this, including asking if I related to Howard Hughes, which I am not.

Aug. 27

2200h
An unexpected change in the farm laborer job as I was to be picking bulbs in the field, but the foreman came and wanted me and an Asian woman to be on their daffodil bulb sorting conveyor line instead. We got to sit in his orange vehicle while he gave instructions to the crew around us. The Shover Negro featured himself in the driver's side rear view mirror when I "happened" to look there, and the schizonphrenic woman was front and center visible through the windsheild.

Got screwed twice; "forgetting" a box of bulbs to sort, and then "forgetting" to put the conveyor belt on and backing up the system that then created a flood of bulbs for the downstream bulb evaluators. Great fun for the sickos, screwing me around when I don't ever make those mistakes.

And what's with the hoodie nonsense? Not only more of them, but the token Punjabi couple (he in a yellow turban), have taken to putting hoodies on too. A black hoodie over a yellow turban looks fucking ridiculous, and maybe it is for the perp's longstanding game of slow reveals of Unfavored clothing (any kind of head adornment).

Aug. 28, 2010
2125h
Another day of loading daffodil bulbs into the conveyor hopper, and keeping the downstream bulb sorting personnel busy, but not too much so that they miss rotten bulbs. After one 10 second visit to the sort line I picked up two rotten bulbs that passed by the last person so I reduced the volume of bulbs so they had more time to devote to looking at them. Mostly, one does it by feel when selecting the more suspect bulbs, as obvious ones can be let by.

I had the white dust mask on again, a seeming perp prop as it gives them that white surface on my face, along with the black foam on the inside to augment sealing, as well as an aluminum strip to set the nose shape, and yellow elastic bands to hold it on my head. Strangely, there was a surfeit of red vehicles when waiting for the city bus afterward, almost one in two was red for the 15 minute wait for the Saturday bus, not the usual double decker. I had my co-workers seated nearby, a blind dude with his white folded cane at his crotch, an Elvis-like dude with a guitar on the back shelf, the skateboarder dude with the board between his legs for the trip and a few other "thuggy buddies" also, and one babe whom I saw on the morning bus.

The entertaining talk among us farm workers on the city bus home was the schizoid woman who came for the past week, and how odd she was and the first time reaction of unsuspecting co-workers. According to the foreman, she really is schizophrenic as he has clinical training as a former mental health care worker. But as she also has a habit of "showing up" for a parade of three three in file through the door as I was about to enter it, and other "coincidences" of placing herself in my proximity, I have to wonder what the real story is. It is common for the perps to present someone who is seemingly well balanced at first and then slides into delusional or contradictory illogic, and then sounding a noise (or keeping the background chatter going) just as I figure out the person is batshit crazy. My ex was a little like that, going irrational when there was any tension in the household, usually due to her undisclosed financial state. And so, here we are again, planting the head cases for me to detect and then ponder how to extricate myself from the circumstances. In the ex's case it was divorce of course, but that show ran for five years longer than it should of, cranking up the stupid level and having me to parry it with rational objections. The final denouement being the hobby farm she couldn't handle, and wanted to bail out of by renting somewhere else. Some solution that was, and thankfully she stayed until the end so the infernal place could be sold, yet another real estate asset losing outcome.

So, this is the eve of having a day off, that being tomorrow, and when I will finish up this blog posting, as it is now down to once per week with the farm laborer job taking so much time as well as the city bus commute.

I was to stop in a bookstore on the way back from the bus stop, and as I opened the door, a file of five gangstalkers were in position to file out the front door, one immediately behind the other, as I held it open. I immediately had the "fuck that" notion, likely planted, let the door go and kept walking back to my apartment. All week the perps have pumped me to get the "Shock Doctrine", part of which I have read, and then when the time comes to enter the bookstore where it is on hold, they pull this doorway obstruction/mindfuck stunt such that I am foiled in attaining what I had intended. This is similar to leading me with expectations, and then having them dissipate with some contrived jerkaround at the last moment. (Also called "dashed expectations"). I don't know what they get from this juvenility, but it is so consistent there must be something really vital for them to remotely detect.

Today, I had the tan-through shirt on, following two days of partial cloudy days when I wore my SPF long sleeved shirt. The intent was to have the SPF (sunlight blocking) shirt take the dirt instead of my bare arms collecting dust, and becoming part of the ongoing sunlight-to-skin games that is a consistent theme of the harassment activity. "Somehow" I "forgot" and I put on the tan-through shirt again when I thought I was through with them for the summer. It seems that even a short spell out in the sunlight attracts co-workers (read, gangstalkers), and so it goes. All but one of the the conveyor workers are out of the sun after the first hour, and I am in the sun for the entire day, as the conveyor feeds through the wall. The one person at the end of the conveyor is in and out of the sun, depending on how fast the bulb boxes are filling up, and this cycling of in/out of direct sunlight, and the respective energetic interactions (or electromagnetic interactions if you prefer), seems to be a huge part of the harasssment/experimentation agenda.

There are so many large themes of the perp agenda; the above mentioned sunlight-on-skin interactions, and one that has been plain for some time, water supply, what kind and color of pipes it comes through, which includes the watering of the vegetative crops that I eat. The use of aluminum irrigation pipes seems to be a big part of the current perp testing, as the irrigation workers somehow trashed the $20k water gun with a 10' poly hose reel on it in 2008. This year, the water gun is fixed, but used sparingly with most of the irrigation still done by aluminum pipes. And I see the odd 10' poly hose/water gun being towed past the city bus stop when waiting after a day's work, so it seems that the perps are still busy on attempting to unravel the energetic effects of drinking/irrigating from poly hoses, PVC and aluminum pipe. Endless permutations and combinations, much of it related to the color of the pipe or hose, including that of gardening at my mother's place.

Aug. 29, 2010
1005h
A missing half hour this morning, as the usual breakfast routine took longer than normal, and I have no idea how it happened. Perhaps it was to allow time for the sickos to accelerate my breakfast digestion, as they forced me to take a shit after my shower and before shaving, and then back in the shower to clean up. This is the third crap in less than 24 hours, a near record, as usually they run me from three to five days without one. Where it goes is unknown, and I suspect they maybe doing some of their teleporting tricks to fill up the septic service vehicles that frequent my proximity. Just speculative of course, but given the perp's long standing need to interfere will bowel movements and plug toilets, as in literally harassed up the asshole, and all things brown, their fuckery knows no bounds.

And the cleaning urge struck again while the laundry was on earlier. Today it was floors, bathroom and kitchen and kitchen cabinets. It is unusual that they have be do both in one day, but I suppose the prescribed single room cleaning activity is allowed to become more complex. Back in the first months of living this apartment, they would only let me clean half the bathtub before a sudden energy/demotivation would strike, and since then I have been allowed to do all of the bathtub, and all of the toilet in one cleaning session. Such is progress on this insane Fuckover front for my mind keepers.

2135h
A final round of blogging before I post this one for the week. I went to my mother's place in the suburbs and watered her vegetable garden, and attended to some plants to hold them up with a brown paper-like decomposeable twine. As always, the perp agenda is important, the plant sap passing by the brown paper twine supporting the tomatoe branch is a big deal. I used the same twine to support Ocean Spray plants that are strangely flopping about instead of keeping their vestigiate form.

The perps put me into a 1.5 hour nap on the brown colored couch after lunch, presumably to prime me for the next task, one they routinely noisestalk me over, digging plant roots up. This is an area in one corner of the backyard that is humpy, and I am removing soil to take it down to a consistent grade. And lo, if a there wasn't more plastic sheet buried. I took out some last week, then today, and also discovered some deeper buried plastic that will have to be taken out next week. Given the large number of plastics that I dig up, and their oddity, I can only assume it is the perps playing yet more plastic exposure games. And the noisestalking immediately started up once I began digging; overhead aircraft, a sudden percussive building project that appeared to come from next door even if no one was there, and a block away circular sawing project, presumably creating EMF fields at the same time. The orchestrated lawnmower noises have dropped from favor, and now more distant noises, save the diesel engine running across the street.

At least 30 vocalized piss-offs when I got back via the city bus, though a muted freakshow this time. But I did get two dudes closing in on me, each sitting two seats away, and one of them doing his plastic bag rustling for some strange reason. Then when I got off, the fucker tailed me for two blocks, another never-before. Though I did also get a tail off the bus yesterday too, so maybe the assholes are ramping up the gangstalking coverage.

The usual litany of provocations to piss me off; fumbling fingers, senseless rattling of flat plates on a flat table top, flicking water about, teleporting crumbs onto my plate, and a few more that aren't allowed to be recalled.

This morning the perps were at their coconut butter sabotage, a food item that has been sabotaged every day for the past week. The coconut oil had separated in the night again, and I stirred it up with the solids and then ladled two spoon fulls on my bread. The stiff paste of the last time isn't allowed, so I have pourable coconut butter now. And lo, if the assholes didn't up the mess ante by arranging the bread to have holes in the slice, and of course, the coconut butter dripping through to ensure extensive finger contact with the plate to remove the ponded coconut butter. Just another vignette of the ongoing and bizarre games over the simplest of things.

Enough drivel, and time to post this

Odd Shopping Skit

1705h
Off the bus and to the LD store to load up on chocolate, and when I get there, the Milka bars are gone. And was I was attempting to make a substitution, an odd female whacko in brown and one very skewed eye starts making some furtive moves behind me, and then she did it again, almost like she was going to pile onto me while babbling away. The perps had me ask "what are you doing?" and then walk out of the store, but not before the faux manager was obstructing the exit with three deep brown ceramic pots on a trolley. Like WTF; I cannot go shopping and then they won't let me out of the freaking store. I haven't had anything quite so fucking odd in a long time, and for me to bail out on a chocolate shopping is a major mind fuck.

The prior city bus freakshow had the Fuckwit two seats beside me place his brown leather coat over his plastic bag next to me. A brown colored dude in super baggy shorts with the crotch halfway to his knees with his brown coffee in hand was also on the rear bench seat, and lo, if the fucker didn't get off at the same stop as I did. Other oddities on the city bus were two females, one with pink fiberglass insulation in a small roll package (6"x15") and with duct tape, and her Cheersing mate had a package of sandpaper. Talk about bullshit, bringing these props onto the bus. Almost as stupid as packing flattened cardboard boxes.

I was doing digging work in the backyard of the First Feral Family home, and I had plenty of noise action while pulling the roots of the weeds. At least three SAC flyovers, other aircraft, gurgling hot rods, delivery trucks outside on the street, and a few distant lawnmowers. My mother did her vacate-the-house thing again, coming back to see what I had done.

And off and on rain as well, coming on after I got back with the black vinyl border edging roll from Home Depot. And lo, if my in-town brother wasn't there to gangstalk me too once I got back, the border edging sitting there outside while I was kept inside listening to his banter. Obviously, catching me after completing driving the vehicle is a big deal, as if I didn't know that before.

1905h
Some light flashing games tonight to force an early tea time. Same deal; conventionally impossible light beam paths coming from the residential tower opposite, about the 17th floor and somehow getting around the overhanging balcony and into my apartment by some 12' from the window. The curtains were closed, and that didn't stop them, as the light beam can now penetrate the curtain and illuminate me. That isn't too bad, but then they got up to light flashing and so I ended my web surfing, took some pics, and some movie footage, and I will have a look at it later as to if it turned out. The LCD panel on the camera wasn't showing the flickering of the light beam when I could clearly see it happening with the naked eye. Just too exciting it seems, having me eat chocolate.

2225h
The sirens have started up for whatever reason. Even switching tasks can bring on extra noisestalking. And tonight, the other tasks have been checking out possible acquisitions, though some ways off when I don't have extra income to finance such. Underwear might be the next item to acquire, and my stock has been depleted by two pairs and the remainder have been peppered with pills and lint as a near permanent feature, and always getting worse in the washing machine each time.

And what is the perps' rationale for making underwear so difficult to come by? I want black colored, mid height, non-cotton (read, non-soggy) underwear in briefs style. I get into these websites of "performance clothing" and I find the "wicking" underwear, but no briefs style. I did eventually succeed, though it looks to be another mail order epsisode from the US. Which is how the last order went; I brought them in from Sierra Trading Post in Nevada, a clothing discounter, and had a local alterations woman cut down the waist height by 2" and re-attach the waistband with a serger. An extra $10 per pair just so I didn't get the waistband sticking me in the gut. And I am sure my tormentors liked that too, as they could score a swatch of fabric off each pair, never mind the fact they were in a nearby shop for a week or so. Plus, they had the alterations woman use olive green thread for one pair, she claiming she ran out of black thread. Bullshit.

Thats it for today; not a big blog posting and I skimped on the city bus freakshow, but you all know that every city bus ride is a portable gangstalking platform, and get a major show each time. Freaks, seat changers, blue-green hair today, and some wackos with white headscarves, doing the Islamic looking thing. Creeped me right out, and I was glad when they were gone.

Two Night Stayover

1650h
I two night stayover at the First Feral Family home, and I am back on a Tuesday, rather than the typical Monday. Partly it was the fact that I had some paying work for the whole day, and some to finish off today. It was the perp's long vaunted exercise they like to put me through; digging soil, pulling weeds, weed whacking, and a rare event of cutting live trees down. My in-town brother supplied his chain saw, fresh from the shop after me beating on him for the last two months that it needs to be fixed because it cannot reliably start. He took it in, and when he brought it round on Sunday, why, it didn't work worth shit. The clearing job got stopped in its tracks last year because his chain saw died, and lo, if he and his asshole minders didn't start the same bullshit again. But he did bring his electric chain saw, which worked when sharp, and I had to sharpen it three times within an hour as it kept dulling so fast, and I kept it cutting wood all the time, no soil or rocks.The perps like to interupt activities for some "fallow time", and I suppose this was their latest version. And lo, if when running this electric chain saw, at least one nieghbor from two houses away, started his gasoline powered chain saw up while I was running the electric one. And when on the last of the last large stump, the electric chain saw smoked up and couldn't be restarted. No gasoline powered chain saws allowed, and then they stop the job by toasting the electric substitute. Fucking bizarre. All my usual noise pals were out in force; the SAC bombers overhead, the trail bikes, the throbby Harleys and other road traffic noise that rises to the occasion, very often while in mid saw cut, or mid snip of the lopers for smaller diameter stems.

And then when the stump cutting was done, the roundup was applied to the ones that would sucker, and this too begets a serious amount of extra noise. After that, they suddenly forced a shit, and then a shower to clean up. And then they had me ready for planting some eight plants, the ones acquired three weeks ago to replace the rangy trees and problematic landscaping that I cut down. All very exciting for the perps to be cutting down and replanting in the same day. I wonder what they do with timber harvesting and tree planting jobs, and are covertly following them and causing the usual fuckups that I have come to know and loathe. Never mind, they have made me their focus study, code for abusive insanity gone amok.

No major bloodlettings while doing the above gardening activities, save some that "showed up" on my face, ostensibly from getting jabbed by pine needles. Quite the pine tree, and unlike any I have every known in 30 years of forestry work.

2330h
An evening looking at stereo gear online, slowly moving from PC audio to digital audio equipment and then to analog audio, sans DAC's etc. The sickos seem to not only like me looking at boxes (stereo gear, PC cases), but also attempting to form a vision as to how to put all this gear together; music servers, then network servers, ready made or designed from PC components. Who knows, as I haven't been allowed to listen to much audio for over six years, and I still haven't made it off CD's yet. No iPod or digital music files yet, being kept "frozen" with the complexity and backup needs and the rest of it. Never mind that my audio listening is highly curtailed in any event. But they do like me to trove through exotic and expensive online audio product listening, and about every two weeks or so I get put through this covetous script. Plenty of outside noise while bookmarking or while in-depth reading, and so it goes. A new keyboard for this PC would be nice as this one is getting especially spongey of late as well as entering more characters than keypresses.

Enough of the trite tonight, along with the endless on-display plasma games that cover this LCD display, what I suspect is the new irradiative containment device; in banks, supermarkets, police vehicles, on every desk and all covert irradiative delivery tested right here as the Prime TI if I may be so bold to assert special abusive privilege. As far as I know, I get the most harassment on all/most fronts.

Early Day for Idling

1330h
keeping on the theme of not doing much, it seems the perps wanted me up early to putz around today, keeping me in-house longer before going on a Chicken Run, the perp event of buying cooked chicken meat at the local supermarket. And even a "chicken stalker", a male who came to the hot cooked chicken display and placed his in his basket at the same time I did. Then the Fuckwit "shows up" ahead of me by an adroit ruse at the checkout. The Fuckwit had placed his groceries at the checkout with one person ahead of him and then buggered off, so when I came he was gone, and I had no idea whose groceries they were. I unload my groceries, and lo, if he doesn't arrive at the checkout just in time to be served by the cashier. I wouldn't of used that checkout if I had known it was my Fuckwit chicken stalker as there was another choice. And not the first time this bullshit stunt has been pulled either.

And heavy on mid-brown skin today; the cashier, then a Fuckwit on the street on the way back, negro and native Indian respectively. I had a gruesome native Indian waiting for me to exit the elevator in this building yesterday, so it seems that the perps are testing me on deeper brown skinned Fuckwit/gangstalkers. And I am not the only TI to find this skin tone agenda as part of the abuse scenario, as a TI in Washington State is having a fuck of a time with E. Indians (from India), who make his life difficult. Funny how this bullshit remains so consistent among TI's experiences.

1820h
A call from my in-town brother mid afternoon, asking what I was doing. "Nothing much", and so he offered me some gardening work at his place, which was first augmented with furniture moving as I found out when I got there. Another too-early bus again, meaning I had to sit out 10 minutes for the gangstalk show at the bus stop. Then againg when returning, more flakey bus service and then some native Indian kid circling me at the bus stop, and so I hoofed it. And lo, if the bus didn't happen to arrive when I was two bus stops further on my walking trip, so I caught it at a different bus stop. This identical stunt happened at the same bus stop 6 to 10 months ago; someone obviously stunting me and so I walked, and the bus eventually came to the identical bus stop that I caught it at today. Funny how that happens.

So the deal was when I got to my brother's place he wanted some furniture moved, cat hairs and all. The couch had to come out of the living room and then out the front door and then it went straight out over some garden beds and plants, and then outside where he said he was going to dump it. Not the best way to get rid of your furniture, but he wasn't going to allow me to talk him out of it.

Then a dresser just like the one I have here was in his driveway, and had to be taken inside, and next to my coat that was lying there as it happened, for the whole two hours I was there. Stalking my jacket perhaps. Then we moved a couch upstairs, having to remove a door first. Then lumping and humpfing furniture was done, he wanted me to run the string trimmer around the perimeter of the property while he was running the lawnmower. And when finished that, I was to weed the garden bed that I had dug over back in February. And did the motorcycle noise, hotrod noise and other loud mufflered vehicles ever start up, at least 3 per minute, which made it seem near continuous. In the distance there were the shouts and cheers from a ball game as part of the background banter act I often get. I also had the coughing neighbor act as well, and then the loud kids neighbor noises started up after that. It is the Identical noise profile when I am at my parents' doing gardening work, in a totally different neighborhood. Anytime I pulled or tugged on the week roots the noise increased, sometimes very loud in the case of the motorcycles. And have we done this one before? All that activity in and out of the house by moving furniture, then the gasoline powered string trimmer noise, lawnmower noise, and then the vehicle noise train when I take on weeding.

My brother does his exit routine after some five minutes of weeding, and so it seems, based on my mother doing the same thing, that he must depart the premises so the sickos can do some kind of remote energetic assay on me alone, and he elsewhere. It seems that they can pick something up, but need to get better at it from a further distance, so that might be the reason for the First Feral Family departure games at the moment of greatest interest (weeding, moving plants, exposing plant roots).

1855h
And many rounds of the noisy two-cycle Vespa type scooters today. Not only at least 10 or so while waiting for the bus (inbound), but a cluster of 15 or so "happening" to meet only 60' from the bus stop when I started walking. One rude fucker was sitting on his motorcycle in mid-sidewalk, running the engine and talkin to his pal, and forcing me to get closer the parked van that was also arranged there. And in another 100' or so, the road bends some 30 degrees and that "happened" to be the location where they came buzzing down the road in serial fashion, sustaining that particular noise for longer. And just now, when on the balcony to take a picture of the strange goings on with the reflectance somehow getting into this apartment when there is no straight line light path, why, two more Vespa-like motorcycles "happened" to be outside. The assholes cannot get enough motorcycle noise on me it seems, and are going fucking beserk in delivering me at every turn.

2205h
A listen of Richard Dolan on UFO and secrecy, a highly respected researcher on Project Camelot. A one hour 20 min. video which takes some focus and sustained attention. Not always doable in the TI experience, but one of the keepers from recent interviews. He pulls together research that paints an unequivocal picture of Them, their agenda, and sociopolitical repercussions, also taking a strip off one of the political players in UFO research.

Time to call this one done for the day, mixed up a bit with some gardening time and all the perp show that brings.

Post Gardening Gangstalk Blues

1745h
A First Feral Family visitation and gardening work exercise today.

I got my near-rundown on the crosswalk on the way to the bus stop, proceeding on a Walk signal, and immediately after sighting a negro on the other side that seemed to come from nowhere. The brown Audi convertable with the blonde babe in it said "sorry" after I called her an asshole, for blatantly crossing in front of me who was plain obvious, and she running a red light to pull this bullshit off. And what is this "sorry" bullshit, as it seems to be a key perp Fuckover word? For the record, that is two Favoreds (blonde and Audi, the perps redirecting my vision to the four circles logo), and two Unfavoreds, negro and the color of the brown vehicle. Chances are they wanted me riled up in public before crossing paths with the negro in mid-crosswalk.

Then my freak du jour at the bus stop, this time a mohawk dude with way fugly tattoos on his bare legs and some blue in his hair, the second time this freak has been featured at this location.

It was soil mixing day at the FFF home today. extracting it from the partially dried plugs of dandelions I extracted from the lawn some four weeks ago, then sieveing it to then use in filling backyard lawn hollows, later seeded with grass seed. Then filling about eight pots with blended soil extracted from the front project of last week, and the Miracle Gro soil my mother had just purchased at Home Depot. Who knows what corporate games go on in creating Miracle Gro soil, but the plant growth enhancement solution is actually 2-4D, a plant hormone, also known as a herbicide at greater concentrations as it forces the plant to grow and prematurely expire. My perp abetting mother put Miracle Gro on the tomates last year, and I told her not to use it. What does she do this year; she buys Miracle Gro soil, which seemed to be mostly fine ground bark mulch, and likely had 2-4D in it as well.

Then the in-town brother "happens" to arrive within the first five minutes of my arrival, desparately needing to pee and to then hang around eating cookies (brown, same as what I was eating), and then a banana, and with coffee from the same pot that I was also having. He does his "don't have enough time" rant again, and then proceeds to dick around for 35 minutes, even showing me his recent coin purchases he made in a garage sale scoop that morning. He also gave me two blue $5 bills as a "finders fee", as I helped him get an online garage sale address three days earlier. And have I not mentioned the intense perp interest in the contents of my wallet and the color of the bills that I have? And I supose the prior city bus vehicular gangstalking was heavy on blue colors for some reason, as was the subsequent trip into downtown. And I am wearing a mid-blue jacket that I "forgot" about last year, so this would be the first time in a year that I have worn it.

So... the big deal in all of the FFF gardening work seemed to be about soil mixing; three different sources in the same pot, pile or lawn filling, and my neighbor noise friends, the SAC bombers (three, saw two of them), and the erstwhile two cycle gasoline engine noise, this time a string trimmer. Other aircraft joined the noise fray as well, though the SAC bombers are the most curious as they are to be following a random route assignment so no one can place where they will be. Funny how they fly over Gordon Head with such regularity when I am doing gardening work there.

And the big deal of late seems to be having me isolated when engaging in gardening work, my mother taking off for an over-extended shopping trip while I was dealing with the dandelion plugs that contained roots, root portions and in various stages of desiccation. She also did her sudden nap thing after lunch again, also when I was dealing with live plant roots; pulling apart the containers and then separating the plants, repotting the containers with soil mixtures and then repotting the separated plants into new (leftover) plant pots. All exciting moments for the sickos, such that they need their key quisling/abettor to take a nap while this is occuring. Go figure.

Other related gardeing interests of the perps seems to be what color and what material is the hose nozzle/delivery mechanism is. There is the orange and grey plastic Gardena sprinkler, the Caber dark grey and orange hand sprayer (which the perps have me lay on the ground for plant specific watering in some cases), and there is the soaker hose, as seeming butyl rubber hose that I used to water the recently planted junipers. Past farm work/ownership experience also suggests that this is still a vital issue for the sickos; PVC pipe in a 10' diameter reel, then aluminum pipe last year, then in pre-overt/beserk days, digging up 600' of water line and changing the water supply to PVC, then re-working the kiwi acreage to a drip system, and so it goes. Copper pipe at the FFF home, and probably this apartment, and not forgetting the color of the pipe is also important.

And the usual Fuckover follies of getting the bus back again; the #28 was six minutes early, missing it somehow when I was 15' from the bus in a dead sprint to get it. Then enduring the vehicular gangstalk parade of vehicles, plenty of blue ones, then the bus coming 15 minutes later. This was about 1650h, and the usual bullshit of 40 or so going downtown at that time of day. And the least-likely-bus-passenger today was the strange dude with a 1/4" beard at his jaw line in mirrored shades and a yellow shirt that just had to sit beside me when there was 3' of bench seat next to me. He and his spread legs made sure I looked outside plenty, and the perps kept up a strange chemical smell "from" him or in faux association. Then with a blonde girl two seats in front of me, talking to her big eared dude was too attractive, so they moved the Asian woman, for no seeming reason, from 6' away and plonked her in the transverse seat in front of me so obstruct the blonde. More looking outside time.

Another odd dude with short hair gave me the stare from a bus length away, and then took a seat near the front. Then, at one stop, he gets up again, stares at me, and then proceeds to the rear of the bus and sits on the rear bench seat on the opposite side of the bus. As mentioned in past blog postings, the musical seats games on the bus is getting more stupid, along with my perp-abetting mother stacking extra cushions under her seats in the FFF home. The perps are hot on seat materials, seat swapping, seat thickness and the rest of it. Expect the assholes to be sitting on their coats and shirts sometime soon.

This one is done, completed the next day.

Gentlemen, Start Your Lawnmowers

1830h
I spent seven hours at the First Feral Family home today, doing weed pulling, watering and crop tending, though mostly the first item, as there is a huge amount of weeds embedded in the boulevard lawn area. It hasn't been weeded for five years I reckon. As my mother is away in Hawaii, I was there by myself, and keeping me company while working the the street frontage was the noise parade. Three neighbors timed their lawn mowing with noisy gasoline engines serially, with a litte overlap between the last two. Those were the adjacent neighbors, and there was more distant lawnmower that came on. The SAC aircraft were on the job again, at least five overflights, or the noise thereof. Plus at least three helicopters and one private aircraft that nicely blended in as a noise harmonic of the concurent lawnmower noise. A few leaf blowers were also started up for the whine noise, and maybe the vortex air currents they make. And at least two chainsaws, though distant. An all round time in suburbia, as well as being noisestalked.

But, it is nice to get outside on a nice day, and it was even sunny for a good portion. I suppose the sun angle is relatively low still, as the perps don't like me to get too much sun in over one or more days. They are still messing around with the cloud cover, bringing on dark dense clouds for a time, and then lighter ones. One of the big thrills for the perp weather department was changing the illumination from the sun at the moment of pulling a weed. This happened at least 3x in half an hour, and also with coincident noise or passing gangstalkers at the same time. Like I have said many times, the perps are consistent as much as they are relentless in hounding my ass whenever I do work with plant roots, pulling or planting plants. Why don't they fuck with a tree planter for crissakes, they plant some 1,000 trees a day in all manner of weather conditions at this time of year.

I applied for two plant nursery jobs three days ago, and I know my plant id, and yet I haven't heard a thing from them, even though they keep the ads going for over three weeks. One I emailed twice, the second time to ask if they got the first email, and no answer. I don't know what the deal is; faked job listings or obstructed email. I see all the neighborhood businesses have advertised jobs at least once, so maybe it is a fake-out deal, getting my attention for relevant jobs that I could do, or from recognizable sources.

2220h
Other interesting coincidences this morning when heading out was the polyethylene gangstalker 15' ahead of me when I got outside ght building. As shown in the pictures in yesterday's posting, the hallway floor is lined with polyethylene sheets as part of the painting schtick that has yet to evolve beyond the fully enclosed laundry room. So... some four minutes standing on the poly, that being an extra two, for the elevator to arrive, and then when I get outside the building, why a poly packing gangstalker, that being his dry cleaning in the typical polyethylene bag> Note that there is no dry cleaner he could of come from in this neighborhood, but what the heck. This is another example of the color and substance mapping they do either before or after I enter or exit the building, respectively. That is, they need to "tune me" according to the substance/color exposure in the building (when outbound) or immediately before entering, when inbound.

And my polyethylene folks were on me when I was on the bus when inbound. They have taken to loading up the bus with grocery shoppers and their plastic carrying bags, of polyethylene. And so it was tonight with a flush of at least six of them having done their shopping at a larger grocery store, and then "happened" to be taking the bus back. I have never seen so many grocery packing Fuckwits on the bus as I have in the past year, and it is all the more curious that they go 8 minutes past another supermarket to shop. Like I say, it is all odd, but no major freaks (maybe one for the last two stops) on the bus tonight, but instead a "swamping" of at least 35 passengers on the bus when headed into downtown (opposite to dayworkers' commute) at 1735h. Absurd, to me, and some trips at this time have had as few as ten or so, which is what I would expect.

Picture time again. Nothing too dramatic about this one; my only reason to include it beacause of the four white vehicles. Three are splayed out behind the tree, one not even parked in the parking lot when there is an availible stall. The fourth white van in the center probably contributes to the perp's measuring of white colors in another direction/oreintation, and on a different surface.

 A new feature in the "neighborhood" (it seems as if no one lives anywhere near here, including the building I live in), is the PVC white lattice screen opposite, some 120' away, at the same level as my apartment. For some reason the putative tenants were compelled to arrange this screen Feb. 10, 2010 or so, not exactly a summertime decision for a W. facing balcony. Another whatever.

 Only in this town, as far as I know, do they run dumpster on the wrong side of the road, and obstructing the bus stop, some minutes before the bus came. I suppose the silver-grey colored vehicles are part of the show, but this was one of those "just happened to see it" when crossing the floor of my apartment, headed to the kitchen, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing, especially with the parking lot vacant, where the full dumpster gets parked. But as the perps run used Japanese L. hand drive vehicles around me all the time, I suppose the normal R. hand drive vehicle on the wrong side of the road might be a reasonable substitute, especially for a larger vehicle.

Taken Feb. 23, 2010, nearly two months ago. Another of the not super incriminating arranged vehicles, but in keeping with what the perp susually do of having silver-grey and white colored vehicles as references, one at each end of the parked file, the last most one is a grey-brownish tone silver gre.

 Then the clown show begins, by adding more white colors (van), bare metal silver grey aluminum (trailer rack of the white van), a white and red van heading the opposite direction, a deep red vehicle that is just entering the picture on the right is now partially obscured by the white and red van. And another grey-brownish tone silver grey vehicle heading to the R. almost opposite the same colored vehicle that is parked, with the white van and trailer between them. The perps love to have two items the same color and run something else between them.

 2305h
Enough pics tonight, and time to blog off.

The Energetics of Geography

1910h
I am convinced the perps are hot on the trail of determining more of one's bioenergetics that is confered by geography, both on a local scale, and across the globe. They had me working on this tree stump hole at my parent's place today, this time with an ax to remove the stump (of Douglas fir) that "happened" to be under the cottonwood stump I removed three days ago. The perps had the soil fly about, planted it onto my shoes and jeans, and generally scatter as I encountered it while chipping away at this deeper tree stump.

Today's setup was that my father was off to his putative daycare for dementia patients, and would be coming back when my perp abetting mother was out at a luncheon. Therefore, I was to hold the fort, and be there when he came home and make the tea and the rest of his usual post-return routine. Which meant that I was contained at their place for the day until I took the bus back to my place along with the rolling freakshow that accompanies me. I still fail to see why there are huge trains of color coordinated vehicles heading downtown at 1630h, let alone the bus full of passengers that were on board. For this government town with no major industrial employers, it doesn't add up. Just my usual rant. I reckon the perps must have put on at least 2,000 vehicles on today's vehicular gangstalking and at least that many again parked in high density along the bus route.

Now that I have dug holes at my in-town brother's for planting new trees for reasons that were tenuous, and now again at my parent's place, along with all the attention of the noise, phenomenon (masers, plasma beams, decoloration of objects), the parent's strange copious visits to the digging, my father hamming up the dementia bullshit act, harassment incursions (dumping soil on my shoes, causing axe and pick swings to constantly miss, and I never have missed to this degree before), constant noise of aircraft, vehicles in a residential area, drone noises, bird callings, etc, and a few other stunts that don't come to mind, I am suspecting that the perps may just be on the cusp of figuring out the earth's energetics separate from my own bioenergetics. Just my take on the perp's current games, feints and stunts.

Adding to this is that I will be "helping" my parents select a tree tomorrow, planting it, and then later getting a ride to the gym directly from their place, rather than my usual route of walking directly from my place downtown Victoria. Or at least, that is the plan, and it could be changed, also a common feature of this game, foiling "my" notions (read, planted thoughts) as to what the plan is about. My mother is also having a weaving group over tonight, and after a luncheon this afternoon, that is at least two weeks of normal social activity. The weavers also came for the new living room carpet some three weeks ago, and that too is odd, as they came by once a year at most. Anyhow, it is all speculation and before long there will be some more "tells" as to what particular perp objective is getting the most attention.

I got fucked at the bus stop again; the perps ran the bus four minutes early causing me to miss it, and the next one was at least 20 minutes later. While waiting, at least 300 vehicles coursed by on this secondary residential area thoroughfare, coordinated by color and vehicle type per usual, and even a small dump truck with huge blocks of concrete in the box, which also "happened" to show up on the bus' route later. I also got another "way cool dude" circulating around me at the bus stop, also on his cell phone, and after some 5 minutes of waiting, he took off. I also got my elderly Asian contingent gangstalking me at the bus stop; he was sitting in the shelter, as if he had missed the bus by two minutes, and some five minutes later an elderly Asian woman "arrives" (somehow) 20' from the bus stop, just standing in place on the sidewalk. As soon as I got my camera ready for another "just standing there" picture of an operative, she wandered toward the bus shelter where he joined her and then they wandered off together, another bizarre stroke of neighborhood "walks". I also got a reprising ambulatory Asian male gangstalker in this residential neighborhood, stalking me at the begining of my walk to the bus stop, he being S. bound, and while waiting at the bus stop he "shows up" again N. bound, appearing to be on a neighborhood walk. He of the near clown oufit, clashing colors of green, red and black with his umbrella that was not needed, and the only one I saw in all the later ambulatory gangstalking fuckery. To do such a loop he needed to reverse his course, all timed to come by me again.

And what joke, catching the bus, as there are two routes in opposite directions on this secondary thoroughfare. Upon seeing the alternate route (E. bound) was coming before the intended route (W. bound), I crossed the street to get the first arriving bus, rather that wait any longer. I caught the E. bus, and lo, if the intended W. bus in the oncoming direction didn't show up one stop later. Both buses stopped at either side of the street, and then a kid (an operative in morphover more likely), who was 20' ahead of the E. bound bus (not at the bus stop) runs across the road to get the W. bound bus. Then he runs back across the road to board the E. bound bus that he didn't appear to want to take in the first place. A couple from the W. bound bus also got off and crossed the road to board the E. bound bus that I was on. This effectively emulated what I did, intending to get the W. bound bus, but crossing the street to get E. bound bus as it loops around and takes the same route to downtown. As it "so happened", the aforementioned couple that swapped buses got off in short order and would of got to their stop sooner if they had stayed on their original (W. bound) bus. Bizarre, if one can follow all that.

It seemed to be "boy's day" on the bus; all the putative passengers that came to ring me were youthful, save one brown skinned dude. This round followed the Asian woman demographic that preceded them and was largely in place when I got on board. I had the more garish colored clothing planted around me; the gangstalkers were wearing yellows, bright blues, reds, browns and one in black pants that were paint flecked, a common operative getup. As usual, they take many measures to expose their mouth contents; chewing gum, open mouthing, eating food etc. This is standard practice now, everywhere I go, both males and females.

As usual, I had an extra large freakshow of ambulatory gangstalkers, not to mention some strange cyclists that seemed to hang around me, and then dismounted to attach their bicycle to a post, a very common public occurence that has also erupted in concert with the harassment antics. I suspect that the tension of the wheel spokes of bicycles allows the perps to obtain more energetics measurements than otherwise. There is something they like about having stressed metals around me, and this would include diesel engines with their substantially greater compression to ignite the air-fuel mixture along with the characteristic clattering noise.

And the number of gangstalkers wearing shades today was hilarious; no visible sun or blue sky, overcast with a 60% POP (probability of precipitation), and at least half of them had sunglasses on, at either end of my bus trip and onboard also. This is not the first time I have noticed this of late, but as my in-town brother also engages in this selective sunglasses use that is unrelated, and even at odds, with the lighting conditions, I can only surmise that the abductee reports of the aliens looking into human's eyes at close range and "reading" them (making determinations) must be true for reasons that we harassment victims don't understand. I suspect the eyes are a source of IR radiation, and as they are also the only location in humans where one's blood flow can be directly monitored, one's eyes are of intense interest to the perps. They have trashed both pairs of my prescription sunglasses and clearly don't want me wearing them given how often I "forgot" to take them with me.

As this is a Monday, the return day from my parent's place, I suspect that I won't get to sleep for hours tonight, as the perps like to extend my awake time. I am calling that one in advance. Another regular item on Mondays is the perps forcing me to take a crap in the evening, just before or after dinner, and this has happened at least four Mondays in succession. It would seem that whatever benefits that the perps gain, (remotely applied bioenergetics assays IMHO), from my once per week stays at my parent's place, they want to attain the same thing at my residence location and neighborhood. That is my theory on why Mondays are so intensely gangstalked, freakshowed and the rest of the parental pandering that unfolds.

When I got in "I" phoned my ex to expect to leave a message on her telephone answering machine as she is away in Brussels (another geographic energetics test?) to thank her for the mattick that was "borrowed" to dig out the tree stump at my parent's place. Instead, I got my daughter who got into a long story about soccer and the coaching travails. Normally she is very terse and uncommunicative when I phone, and for this rare instance she was positively gregarious. I say "borrowed" in quotes as I don't know where my ex would of got this particular tool as it wasn't one we had when together, and I cannot envision her buying one as she cannot heft such heavy gardening tools. No doubt the perps wanted me to have this particular version, as she supplied the original mattick head for no plausible reason. Another go figure.

2240h
Time to call this blog done for the day; all of today's bizarreness is not conveyed here, but the above journalling should offer enough variety and detail to suggest that I am not making this up. If anyone was in my highschool English class. and recalls how often my creative writing was roundly trashed, they would concur.

Plasma Assaults

1855h
A late start for daily blogging the harassment games, but I had some real work to do, albeit without any pay, and doubtless for the perp's cause.

It was the continuation of Wednesday's work, (two days ago), and removal of a cottonwood tree stump from their backyard to prevent further suckering of shoots from the roots, having been cut down six months ago. The work of Wednesday was preceded by an all-night of no sleep, another imposition of the perps IMHO.

The first part of today's activities was getting there, and it "so happened" my in-town brother was in the neighborhood when I phoned him this morning about bringing his chain saw to aid in large root severing. Never one to turn down a ride to avoid the freakshow that every public bus trip becomes, I accepted his offer after a go-round with some dumbshit ideas he had about meeting elsewhere. As it so happened, he scored bigtime on some artwork he bought at a garage sale, and he stopped off at the autioneer's to collect the money in the form of cash. I was beside him when it was counted out, and the perps have an obsession about me seeing and handling money, so I can only assume this was part of the scripted show.

While this was going on, the perps slipped in a red coated negro woman (read, gangstalker) in a strange hairdo, the name of which I am not allowed to recall. She stood around for a minute or so, and then drifted off, and in the process I found my attention was directed to see her in a mirror reflection, and then a window reflection. Anyhow, when this was done, she was gone, and that gangstalk episode was over.

Then another stop at the infamous, to me at least, Oak Bay junction, where the physical assault of last week (10-18-2007) took place. As it "so happened" my brother pulled into a parking stall to unload a piece of brown colored furniture to a store there, and lo, if the store assistant wasn't a blonde woman in some fugly iridescent brown colored pants, and a light grey jacket. A few more brown paint cans that "happened" to be in my brother's van got snagged and moved in the process, and after a few minutes, that job was done. And it should be noted that on the day of the physical assault, the parking stall that my brother's van was located was occupied by a blood red van, one of two that were parked in file ahead of a white van, which was immediately in front of white police van, when they came after my call from the convenience store. All very interesting to say the least, these designed coincidences.

And plenty of noisestalking while I wrote the above paragraph, as well as the need to consult my appointment diary that "somehow" got left in my briefcase from yesterday's appointment. Funny how "I" remembered to take one item out when I got back, but not the other. Now more coughing in the hallway to add to the interuptions, and now plasma games on this LCD display as I type.

Back to the intended harassment highlight of the day, the plasma assaults. My brother and I went to my parent's place to drop me and his chainsaw off, and after a whole lot of screwing around, he got it going. The root was cut in no time, and after some "planning" discussions, we decided to leave the chain saw at my parent's place, as there was the possibility of me needing it later. This scene with him involved extra trips from the front yard to the backyard, one with the chainsaw running for chrissakes. Then another needless trip for him to "inspect" what I was doing, when he could of done this the first time when making the trip with the running chainsaw. Freaking weird his behavior at times, and getting worse.

Then my brother departed and then my parents came, and wanted to see my diggings, which was fair enough. Just before lunch I got the entire stump removed, and a sudden onset of my eyeglasses fogging up and sweat beads running down them forced me to go inside earlier.

Then lunch, and the usual food playing games my father puts on, all to substantiate his dementia "cred". And the usual games of laying it on extra thick, pretending not to know that I was working on tree stump removal on his own property. A diaspora of red objects was in my visual field in the form of a napkin set packaging, tomato, teapot, cookie packaging and a few more were arranged for me to see for the entire lunchtime. And to no surprise, my father got into playing with the tomatoes, moving the plate around for pointless reasons, playing with them and attempting to place the skins on his fork, and a bunch of other games that were borderline disgusting.

After lunch, when I got back to the tree stump removal, and pulling out the extended root system, the perps laid on this debilitating plasma beam activity, having the colors altered, then dithered, then a vortex of color in my central vision, and there was no way to shake it. As part of the deal, the perps have me yell about it, and lo, if my father wasn't within earshot, and put on his "what-what" routine, this three decades long bullshit exercise in not understanding plain English language, and forcing repeats of everything I say. After me telling him that there were plasma beam assaults, and that he knows who is doing this, he fucked out of there pretty fast, at total odds with his normal obdurate way of seeking every last detail. He "somehow" knew what the moment was to then immediately depart while having a purported dementia condition.

I had masers and plasma beams, particularly red flashes, emanating from the tree stump hole, while I was digging out the roots, and the rest of the related activities for the first ten minutes after getting back to the job after the lunchtime break. In all, I could barely function, and I wasn't allowed to know what all the phenomenon were doing or what was happening, as it kept me from performing the job.

Throughout the tree stump removal job I had plenty of overhead aircraft noise, the ongoing drone noise from last week, the construction percussive noises of hammering, the neighbor noises of vehicle start ups, seagulls mewing and squealing and others. I was also harassed by extra-conventional remotely applied gravitic methods to have me "miss" with my mattick swings, soil eruptions and flickings from roots "springing" back, the chainsaw "fail" to restart, misdirected tosses of roots into the pile of them, and other annoyances to piss me off. It was back to the constant living hell the assholes have kept me in for over 5 years now.

I took the bus back to downtown where my apartment is, and this turned out to be quite the freakshow. I had my "way cool" dude/gangstalker leaning on the bus shelter when I got there, James Dean style, replete with aviatior's sunglasses while at least 150 vehicles coursed by us in various configurations and colors, per usual vehicular harassment games, and eventually the bus came filled with plenty of freaks, the worst case scenario were some apparent Down's Syndrome adults. The perps like to put me through these freakish experiences, and here they were, ready for me on the bus.

I had a bus seat that I wouldn't of ordinarily taken, but as it so "happens", I "somehow" did not recall any of my knowledge as to where to sit to avoid the worst of the perps on-board machinations. The "way cool dude" took a seat on the other side of the rear exit, though on the same side of the bus. Sparing the details of the passenger turnover; nearby plastic bag games, the extra complement of red clothing that was worn, the red hair dye jobs, the extra bleached blonde jobs, and the unfathomable extra number of short tripping passengers, the "way cool dude" came to sit beside me for the latter third of the 25 minute bus trip. What a joke, the same unusual bus passenger at the same departure bus stop separating himself away from where I was sitting, and then "finding" an excuse to later sit beside me. He didn't get off at the same stop, though I would not of been surprised if he had.

There were more freak shows of gangstalkers on the city streets, and I had my now daily altercation of sorts, with a vehicle driver bearing down on me, pretending not to have seen me on the crosswalk. This new habit of the vehicular gangstalkers making direct runs at me on the street has erupted from a once in a while occurence level to a daily one this week. And no less, this dude was on his cell phone while performing this stunt, one of the devices the perps like me to be around on a selective basis.

As with any bus ride, just as if I were driving, there was at least 1,000 mobile vehicles ordered and arranged by color and vehicle type along the entire route, and probably at least that many arranged in the same way while parked in adjacent parking lots and side streets. I got plenty of red color flashes, some "from" the apparent coating on the bus windows, some from the clothes or reflections of them in the windows, and the rest of the full on red color stalking that has increased this week.

And I am getting extra on-street stroboscopic flashes, this under the cover story of the dappled sunlight "flickering" through the trees and branches as the leaves are begining to fall. Yesterday, the perps upped the ante and created this stroboscopic assault under the guise of sunlight passing through a chain link fence. I have been walking on that beat for nearly a year, and never had any problem, never mind before the overt harassment began. As of yesterday, the perps decided that the chainlink fence would be sufficient "cover" for them to create an annoying stroboscopic light effect upon me as I walk beside it. I always wonder who they think they are fooling.

2135h
Audio listening; true to form, a forced fuck up to cause the feed to terminate, and then a restart. Same deal with conference calls; the guest gets cut off for a few minutes very often.

2255h
Some browsing and video and audio listening; Dr. Nick Begich on mind invasive technologies, both good and bad, and and audio interview with Valerie Plame. In the latter case, she doesn't claim to understand the motivations of the players and what the entire agenda is. I don't either of course, and I wonder how the perps might be using this story, assuming they didn't orchestrate it. I note that they arranged for me to miss the 60 Minutes interview with her last weekend, and lo, if my video links to it went missing. Time to try again.

Enough blogging for today, and time to wind this one up to the sound of yet another siren cascade, at least the tenth one today over two locations.