Camo Man Coverage

05-01-2019
I went to Kelowna to see the doctor of recent surgery. Its at a private five story health sciences building, not a public health facility. And lo, if this shiftless shit dressed in green camo ("Camo Man") with a matching green colored broad brimmed hat doesn't manage to hang around me at the elevator door. Said elevator also "complied" by taking its time, a first for this particular building and the some 10x I have used this particular elevator. Which, in gangstalking terms, offers more "hang time", aka loitering excuses. Said Camo Man (gangstalker) then takes off just before the elevator arrives. Well timed I say, or perhaps, just more curious public behavior.

Then 15 minutes later while in the doctors' waiting area, why, Camo Man "happens" to show up in the waiting room and sits three seats away, 90 degrees offset. And there was plenty of other open seating around, so why so close? And not that he saw a doctor's receptionist or anything, (at least seven doctor receptionist desks to chose from) he just slithers in from the elevator and "happens" to find me 4 stories up in one segment of this office building. Well done asshole; tell me how how you found me the second time.

Which begs the question as to where the Psychopaths find these shiftless shits; are they staff and they dress them up in these ridiculous faux army outfits, or are they some pick-up  dweeb they particularly wanted? My speculation is the perps want a certain outcome at certain locations, (elevators or stairs (elevation changes) are prime stalking locations), and may just have staff or else they have a pick-up stalker pool on hand. My speculation on outcomes is two fold, and not necessarily both at once; there is the promotion of abreactions (subconscious traumatization reactions from my recall deleted years when age 2 to 5), and also their need to extract certain bio-energetic interactions based on the gangstalker's particular genetic make up. I don't give a shit, just leave me the fuck alone and quit posting these shiftless shits around me. I am disgusted enough with humanity as it is, and don't need any more reminders of how low the "scum-inal" bar is set.

05-16-2019
I got busy, and in the evenings too, hence the paucity of recent blog postings. I finally got a music server and got my music and music playing function completely off the wretched MS Windows platform. And just in time, as they pulled another "upgrade" a few days later and hammered the PC audio again. That is, no audio on the PC for the third time in 2019. Well done Microsoft. And also a prompt to get me off Windows 10 so Netflix and Youtube (and other web sourced audio) won't be subject to MS (seemingly) driven sabotage. There is nothing like continued perp sabotage to generate yet more projects, even if I think it should be put off until next year.

Getting the audio files moved to the purpose dedicated music server took some artful navigating of the abominable supplied PC software, but once on the music server, it runs very well, and is wonderfully simple with dedicated buttons and none of the touch screen hell that is a rich field for perp fuckery. (One can deploy an optional Android phone interface, but I say, hell no). It is exceedingly rare that I encounter an electronic device or attendant software that is a ergonomic treat to use. Arcane multi-modal design concepts are the usual order of the day, compounded by erratic touch screen behavior; the now-norm in my experience. Though to be fair, the perps and their fuckery know no bounds to exploiting human interfaces to infuriate me at every turn. The "worst-in-class" (that is, most adverse and infuriating) human interface that I know of is the so-called "smart phone", at least the Android platform. The Apple interface design thoughtfulness has really made the company what it is today, while dear old MS has lagged in the consumer market. And they still don't get it, but at least are trying harder, though still failing, per the above mentioned PC audio clobbering .

And getting all those audio and PC boxes tucked into my server rack was another round of renovations of a kind. I had to get plywood, have it sawn to size, as well as other fittings to get these components installed in my server rack. It was me doing the installing; tools and supplies strewn about, all the way to the kitchen. And the Psychopaths do seem to have a compelling need to have my tools in the kitchen for whatever reason, and even making meals with tools close by. Anytime I work on the server rack things go very wrong, with intense and continued infuriation. As to what this particular invoked adversity offers the assholes I have no idea. I got the whole rig set up and the wires tidied up, in pic below, and lo, if the assholes didn't take out some of the overhead track lighting just to add a electromagnetic variance. Then they took out another adjacent LED bulb (prematurely again), and still weren't done, and took out an incandescent light bulb in the nearby (12' away) kitchen area. Well done assholes; one success (completion) begets more sabotage; three dead light bulbs in two days isn't a coincidence when there is such close scrutiny on my lighting sources.

Said track lighting is of a certain brand that I have used for some 30 years because it is so reliable, well designed and functional. Now that concept has been sabotaged, so here we go again. Nothing good ever lasts, even if it is just a concept in Psychopathic thinking, and they have the unconventional means to deliver sabotage at will. And we call it "quirky" or other excusing techno trite-isms.

It was only a few months ago that tool use became evident (after 17 years of this intense abuse) as another event that was of significant interest to them. Originally I thought it was tool handle colors and my bio-energetic reactions, but of course any original "idea" is suspect as the assholes have been known to plant them in mind all the time. Wrong ones at the outset especially. That I spent four months last year on a construction job using others' tools, my own (new ones too), and lending out a few, both inside and outside, must of been another perp "tool use study" on me.

I have been reading "The Many Worlds of Hugh Everett III" again, an the many worlds theory as well as some of the associated Youtube videos. Some interesting topics have re-surfaced from this book; combinations and permutations of a single event have surfaced. Also the topic of free will... Hmmm, perhaps slavery isn't such a human condition at all, but a rich field for studying their multiple dimensions games. And of course, the Psychopaths make the constant point that I am under their thumb every microsecond and that I have no free will. An an interesting confluence of like situations, though I won't go so far as to call it coincidence (caveat). But it was interesting that my work colleague at a part time job went freaking berserk over the casual mention of historical slavery a few weeks ago, (at a row end no less, changing direction is a prime Psychopathic event). I referenced the book, Mosquito Empires, an excellent history reference, and he still wasn't contained. Another weird-assed farm worker quasi-friend.

05-19-2019
Sunday, and three weeks late in getting this posting out. A bout of uncharacteristic lassitude took over these past three weeks. I also have a few other items that have needed attention and they haven't got done. I just don't know why the Psychopaths need to impose these kinds of spells. All part of the permutations and combinations game I suppose, which translated means sabotage, imposed delay and other fuckery. Mission accomplished, so leave me the fuck alone.

Such message was unequivocally, and vocally, conveyed to the assholes last night as they awoke me five times with excruciating muscle cramps to my legs and feet. They spread the pain events from 1100h through to 0400h. Well done assholes, and deviating from their usual routine (what else) of packing these assaults inside an hour or so. But oddly, keeping their routine of allowing me to go to bed "early" (2200h), which has become their signature precursory hint that a round of muscle cramp torture will be applied in the night. The assholes delivered big time on this latter habit of theirs.

It must of been Asian stalker night yesterday at the SOF supermarket, as the usual flush of big-gutted dudes was getting too tiresome. Two Asian females were buzzing around me at the hot chicken counter, and then did the "split apart" gangstalker routine so I would pass between them. Said stalkers were buzzing around me and doing the Pretending-to-Not-Notice stunt in closing in on me and then allowing me to escape between them. I have never met so many Fuckwits who make it look like that they are totally unaware of their personal space incursions since all this abuse rained (or reigned if you prefer) down in me since 04-2002. Call it the Clueless by Direction stunt perhaps. But all the same, it is a sudden and annoying public behavioral change since that epic date they invaded my apartment, per above date.

Other Fuckwits kept hounding me in rotation over the rest of the store, about 4 parties, who each had the unerring knack of loitering at the very location I intended to go to. Then when leaving, why, another Asian woman with a hot pizza was covering me in lead-ahead gangstalking mode, right past my vehicle for crissakes. Then the inevitable pit-lamping from vehicles at every turn on the way home.

And what is with the Naramata General Store that four parties of stalkers arrive behind me and start pulling the same shit today? Loitering where I intended to go, and then arriving at the cash desk ahead of me, one not having purchased anything, but just "needed" to do aisle loitering where I intended to go. When about to pay for my items, a clashing camo clown (dude) arrives besides me and does the time-honored gangstalker move of doing bend-overs, this time in the cause of looking at the newspaper rack. Said Fuckwit managed to block my egress to exit until he moved. (I had to cross over where he had been standing, another classic gangstalker move). Who knew small village newspaper stands were so interesting? Never mind that these Fuckwits all arrived at about 1645h on a Sunday on a long weekend to tail me and then obstruct me all over visiting a small general store. Talk about dedicated gangstalking insanity. So... the last time I visit that place, which was probably their intention anyhow. One of the Fuckwits ahead of me managed to stay in his vehicle while my transaction took place and then tailed me in his vehicle out of the parking lot and on the street for two hundred meters. Well done asshole; I haven't seen it this obvious for a long time, so it will be the last time I go there.

Same Gangstalk Pattern Three Times in Identical Circumstances

02-27-2019
That I have seen this particular shopping and checkout gangstalking pattern countless times since 04-2002 when the perps first went berserk/overt on me is an understatement. But for some reason the pattern was so consistent across three stores that I visited today that I feel compelled to write about it.

First one was after work, an odd day at the construction site, as I finished at 1400h. The afternoon, not the usual time that three males circulate around me in specialty food market. But there they were, doing their shiftless loitering, aka pretend shopping, bent over and and their ass sticking out, a perp pose writ large. I went to the supplement section to get more iron supplements, as I don't seem to absorb much through digestion nowadays. And for "some reason", the ever-attentive staff there didn't go anywhere near me, hovering as I was to attempt to decode all the claims and dosages and other supplemental adjuncts with the iron. (Vitamin C, folic acid, plant food e.g. spirulina and others). But no, even with the staff there they didn't come by. Most curious. I then got the one I had before as it seems to be a reasonable solution.

I then went to check out the chocolate, but there was a Fuckwit A in bend-over pose there, so I went the next aisle for something else. Then the same Fuckwit A, without anything in hand, not even a hand basket, somehow "decided" to go to the end of his aisle and come straight down the one I was in. All to get a better look at this shit no doubt. After the shit passed by, I go to the end of my aisle to then go to the chocolate. But no, a three way male gangstalk Fuckwit clusterfuck was in action (one of them Fuckwit A somehow), blocking egress, each pretending that they weren't. I go somewhere else, turn around to go to another location, and one one the Fuckwits was posted there. Screw it, and I go to the checkout , and with some delays there (debit card system), why, Fuckwit A just "happens" to be arriving behind me.

 Like WTF; tail me in the aisle, hover over where I want to go (shopping obstruction), then do the "come at me" walk down the aisle (mid aisle encounter), then circle around again and join the clusterfuck (E aisle end), and then pop out of the aisles just when I was paying at the checkout (W end, and financial transaction stalking). I have never seen so many single males in this store, let alone how they managed to put on the E aisle end swarm just as I arrived there. And have I mentioned how aisle ends, aka, direction changes, seem to be a HUGE perp gangstalk moment? Too often to count; the label, "anisotropy of space" might give you a clue, but the gangstalkers are utterly insane about any direction change I make while ambulatory, driving or any other means. Go fuck yourselves everyone, and go fuck your own kind; you have legions of Fuckwits at your disposal so go screw them over and leave me alone. And at least change the scenery and put on (many) more babe gangstalkers; these shiftless shit male posers are good-for-nothing but looking stupid. Besides, they creep me out.

Later in the evening I go to SOF, a supermarket. There couldn't of been more than 30 customers there, but again, a rotating male contingent of three, just "happened" to find me everywhere I went. And at least one of them was on obstruction duty, thwarting intention (mine) another one of their trademark stunts. North, South, East, and the checkouts at the West. One of the rotating gangstalkers "happened" to arrive behind me at the checkout, and lo, if I didn't suffer another "hold up" with the uncharacteristically slow debit card system. And lo, in characteristic style, he just couldn't move in fast enough to stand where I had just vacated at the checkout. And "for some reason" another Fuckwit "needed" to pass behind me in the opposite direction of everyone else at the checkout. One really has to go out of their way to go to a checkout and then enter the store. So here we go again; shopping obstruction, multi-male tails in all cardinal directions and a financial transaction gangstalking show.

Then onto LD and this same shit played out again. This time I was buying the much perp gamed paper towels and toilet paper, more of their favorite items to manipulate in strange ways to piss me off. I don't think I have ever been allowed to separate toilet paper off at the perforations without an errant (off-perforation) tear since all this insane shit rained (or reigned) down on me since 04-2002. And I constantly get masers coming off the toilet paper now every time I touch it or move it to unroll some for use. These are the grey-ish blackish blob-like variety that emanate off the paper and come at my face, all over in a second or two. (And never mind how the toilet paper rolls suddenly get beat up and don't roll properly). So just what is the perps' 16 year long insane fixation about ass-wipe all about? Any ideas out there?

My second, much interrupted week of vineyard pruning. Today it was snow to clear, at the landlord's place, and then onto an appointment at the dental surgeon to check things out, and all was OK. [Well as it "happened" later tonight, one of the implant caps "happened" to drop out into my mouth, so doubtless I will be back there tomorrow. Well done assholes; the perp-insanes that is.]

I started pruning at 0930 instead of the usual 0800h, and lo, if there wasn't legions of vehicular gangstalking for this event (in perp mentality) of an irregular work start or departure time. (Another is having me "forget" something and forcing me to go home, and then return).

But I do have one upside item to report; in the task of vine pruning many canes as presented from a single vine, and retaining 2 or 3 healthy long ones to keep and cutting off the rest, it is very likely forced "mistake". And for the prior six years the perp assholes have exploited this to the maximum and forced me to make far too many "mistakes" that I would not of ordinarily done, knowing my own capabilities. Well, in a (so far) rare instance of letting up on the abuse, I have hardly made an error in 7 work days of pruning. And if I did, it was recoverable and there was another cane to use. Wow; competence IS now finally allowed at least for this task, now in its seventh repeat year at the same menial job. Unbelievable.

And tonight while out in the evening on errands, they left me alone at the water depot (very unusual given the perp focus on my water supply), and at the fuel station to fill the vehicle tank with gasoline. Save the two males huddled around the side of the building chattering away, almost a parody of the loitering scum at such places. But no other vehicle rolled up, and nor were there the "usual" hot rod muffler noises and other vehicular noise campaigns while fueling. Very odd indeed. Not even a Fuckwit walking through the pump area, which is almost de rigeur

03-01-2019
Another interrupted work day, and the "usual" confluence of gangstalk vehicles around me as I made a off-usual hours commute visit to aforementioned dental surgeon in mid-work day to get the implant cap re-tightened.

And one day off, (Saturday) spent in a rather uncharacteristically mellow mood, which served the perps' purposes as I didn't get my to-do list barely started. (Do they ever love to have me slave away at "to-do" lists and then not complete the items, and then mix it up and have me add other items). And just what is it about vacuum cleaning, all the more important as the perps just love to dump things on the floor, that they need to keep thwarting me in undertaking this task, sometimes for 4 weeks past its due date? I have no idea, but given their propensity to arrange vacuum cleaning around me, I suppose they want to control my residence for whatever purposes.

03-03-2019
Sunday,  but a day of work at the vineyard, though this time it was the winery. The mobile bottling trailer arrived in the morning and so I was the guy to unload each case of empty bottles on the production line and have them travel through to get cleaned, filled, capped and labelled and then re-packaged in the box (or case as they like to use in the business). Lots of handling cardboard boxes of course, white coated on the outside, and lots of clatter and noise. And what is it about glass being bashed and knocked the perps like so much? Don't know; there is some kind of emanating vibe that just turns their crank big time.

Anytime, I shall call this a posting for the week, and consider what might be different for the coming week.

Cellar Work

02-10-2015
Tuesday, like a Monday, the first day of getting back to work after a long weekend. (Yesterday was BC Family Day). The perps like these kind of disruptions, not the least being to screw me out of regular Monday yoga, as there was none due to the holiday.

And lo, if the urination urgency didn't subside today, though having no coffee in the morning helped, and perhaps another is a certain supplement might be now working. The urologist's office was useless; go see your GP they said. Thanks a bunch.


I was put on cellar work in the afternoon, using a special stirring device to put into the barrel bung hole and scrape the bottom of if to stir up the sediment. Called "battonage" in winemaking, as it confers buttery flavors if done for long enough, say, 1x/week for three or more months.

Then onto pressure washing, as the perps like to sabotage my efforts in this respect, going by past events reported in this blog. But now that this winery has other employees, unlike the last one, all these things going wrong, like hose leaks, might be curtailed somewhat. No blocked toilets at the new work site yet, but this might evolve slowly like past employers/worksites.

I was also dumping red wine sediment, packing it in buckets to dump on the burn pile. Which is where a gate is left open so the deer and elk can pass through. Naturally, this area is fraught with their droppings, but most curiously, there is cattle dung there too. And this is a vineyard, so I don't know how the latter got there at all, save some shit-disturbing outfit planting their very favorite prop in my proximity.

On the financial harassment front, I see that I got four charges on my charge card that were not mine; over $7k total no less. At first I submitted my complaint online, but as I didn't hear anything back for a half day, I phoned the charge card company. I then find out that my charge card was on "fraud watch" status, whatever that means. A good thing I phoned them up to find that out as they didn't tell me for crissakes. what were they expecting; me to pay the tab and then my card would revert to normal status? All the charges were on the same day and three of them were for the same amount and a fourth one some $20 different. All for the same "merchant", located in France for crissakes. Hmm; who coughed up my credit card details? Was it that site that sells flac file albums that shifted from China, to Russia and then the UK?

Ever kept as an audiophile wantabee, I swear that listening off a USB stick sounds better than files off a computer with rotational discs; this is using the same DAC/deck (OPPO player) in  each case. This "discovery" will no doubt launch many hours online for looking for the ideal audiophile server/storage device. Read, ridiculously expensive computer.

And who designed it such that no automotive player decks play flac (non lossy music) files? I load up a USB stick with 16Gb of music in flac format and the automotive player won't play them. Not too much of a surprise, but "somehow" I forgot about this a year after the player deck was installed.

12-02-2015
A day of "browning around" games; I found some shit stuck in my ass discovered in the morning shower that totally grossed me out.

Then when I arrive home after work, I discover by way of underwear packed onto my ass another "brown stunt". This brought on a mid-week visit to the laundromat, to the unmanned one I frequented from 2013 to mid-2014. That meant a shower to clean up and then take my underwear (all the week's) to the laundromat to clean them all up. For some strange reason it went on cold cycle and I couldn't change it. When I was waiting for the last few minutes by the washing machine, a male  ball-capped stalker arrived, first by keeping his headlights on and beaming into the laundromat all the while waiting and then collecting and then exiting the premiises.

I also drove across town to go to the walkin clinic but got there after 1700, and were closed.

I went to the adjacent LD store and was gangstalked to the gills; a permanent gangstalker post beside the chocolate section for the three times that I attempted in 10 min. and gave up and exited not having bought anything. And there they were, loitering  near the exit to the mall.

14-02-2015
Nothing much in the way of Valentine's for me via the perps. They like to have me disaffected for big cultural events, from football (Superbowl), to Stanley Cup finals, World Soccer Cup finals and cultural days such as this. Back in the intense gangstalk and pursuit brutality of 2002, they even had me sleeping in my vehicle over Christmas day for crissakes. Which was aided and abetted by the criminal First Feral Family scum and the antagonistic Ms. C. Such fine company I get stiffed with.

A visit to the doctor was finally concluded; he of the scared shitless camp, now doing smirk duty. Last time I saw him he was doing crotch display duty, yet another clue that sexual harassment might of been part of the perp's abuse regimen in the memory deleted years, aged 2 to 5 y.o, (1956 to 59).

Visiting the doctor is in aid of getting my testosterone tested, and if supplemented, maybe this urinary urgency abuse I am constantly cast into will finally end.

The medical office assistant was kind and helpful, and when I finished with the doctor, he told me to get a form from the desk. Well, she wasn't there, and so I waited. But as it "happened" two other women were waiting and were similarly looking to the medical office assistant. As in one twin sister and one elder sister. (Or else the medical office assistant was stunting me by waiting at the counter instead of serving from behind it.) Anyhow, this was all too weird that family shows up a the doctor's office to loiter in my presence, and so I went to the adjacent LD gangstalking store, got some items and returned to the doctor's office. The medical office assistant was back behind the counter and printed off the form I needed. I see three shiftless males loitering outside, one sucking butt (a cigarette). All were acting independently, but as soon as I exited they each got the call to then head to the doctor's office. Like WTF; let's make it obvious and have three Fuckwits suddenly and simultaneously abandon their ridiculous pacing about and file into the doctor's office.

I did my laundry afterward, always a big perp deal,and got stiffed with "forgetting" some items, ones that I launder once every week. How this "forget" happened is nothing I can account for.

02-15-2015
Sunday, a shut-in day for some reason, even if the weather is inviting outside.

A big time waster is having me look ridiculously expensive hi-fi audio gear, as I don't have the scratch to afford any of it, even if better gear is substantially cheaper nowadays. Like $5,500 for a dedicated PC for audio listening, with separate AC cleaning, and power supply, no PCI boards and a SSD storage. Yes, this addressed current pissing match in getting music files to play through the OPPO's headphone jack is a pain in the ass, as it was supposed to be driven from the OPPO to find the NAS file copies instead, taking the load off the Windows PC. I have found that having a wholly separate and dedicated audio gear is better than having a PC provide the files. But that didn't happen, owing to the clunky OPPO interface and then the NAS support did not include flac files, my mainstay file format.

Anyhow, the above is likely dull material for most of my readership, and I generally keep the technical pissing matches off-blog.

Snow Day

01-29-2013
After months of cold or stable overcast weather, why, snowfall as I write this. I was all set to head out the door, lunch packed etc., and opened the blinds and lo, snow, 4" worth and accumulating. Which makes a huge difference in terms of getting around on my all season tires, not winter rated. And of course, my vehicle tank is half full and the sandbags were left at the vineyard. "Good one", is my common refrain whenever a (arranged) confluence of inconveniences erupts for maximum adversarial effect.

And so, what to do? Sort out the ongoing hassles of having a network area server install with a flaky hard frive; read more of Brice Taylor's spellbinding book, "Thanks for the Memories", or otherwise slouch around, reveling in the event of my just-restored internet connection.

Or at least blog on about how the perps like to pull snowy weather events, and what they might get from it. There is no question that temperature variation is a big variable in their human non-consensual experimentation initiative. This is known to me by the many gangstalkers ahead or behind me in the supermarket checkouts with hot items and/or frozen items. Add in the white blanketing effect, reducing the landscape's color variations, accentuated emphasis on lineal features that stand out from white background and other "artistic" effects (help me out Lets ESL). And a good day for listening to music on my new disc player, with Bonnie Raitt's newest "Slipstream" and sophomore album, "Give It Up" on hand. I consider "Give It Up" to be a desert island classic since I first bought it in LP form in 1975. Two LP's and two CD's later, the latest being a remastered version, it still gets my groove going.

Later; a total vexation day, attempting to find out the problem why my LAN network isn't working. And at the point of realization of at least a temporary fix, why, my perp abetting mother calls to blather about something. Then a forced piss after that, and indeed, it is an exciting perp moment. The whole fucking day devoted to this "problem" and spending some $400 to get new Hitachi drives, as one of the LAN connected drives is almost on the fritz, per so called "SMART" test.

01-30-2014
More snow overnight, about 2" on top of the prior 4"; a second morning surprise I got as the streets were bare yesterday afternoon, and it was above 0C.

Winemaking duties called; getting the potassium bitartrate added to the two tanks of red wine as they are too acidic, and cold weather causes deposition of the soluble tartaric acid. Then onto pruning vines to finish a row.

01-31-2014
A glorious day in sun at 0C, and some wind to keep it chilly, and the perps slowly pulling down my pants some 8", something they have done at least once per vineyard working day this month, and I don't expect it to stop anytime soon, even if the weather is getting colder. A related stunt is to have my undershirt lift up some 6" or so, and sometimes at the same instance of their aforementioned pants pulling games.

I was reminded of another perp obsession yesterday evening. They pulled the kitchen knife from my hand and made sure the end was dinged, folded 90 degrees or so. We have done this so many times over the years; every knife gets this treatment every so often. I get out the sharpenng equipment, diamond hones mostly, and manually grind it down and sharpen the blad while I am at it. I don't understand why the perps are so obsessed over cutting edges, knifes in particular. Though, they also curled the end of the triangular pointed gardening tool by arranging it to just "happen", and in not being dropped. That was after they had already dinged the tip from contacting a rock in the soil.

Finally, my boot "stayover"  (of three blocks away) is done, -no aglets from the shoe repair guy. He says he cannot find them, the metallic kind. Ridiculous. Not to mention the dirt that was scuffed onto the boots somehow when I picked them up today. Hard to believe anyone any more. Though most non-operatives, (that is, who I think aren't), have various tells as they spin their lies; blinks, looking stupid, glance up or sideways for no reason, etc.

After working outside on the snow blanketed vineyard, I went in for lunch; and lo, if the perps didn't pull a major plasma show. Everything was this dark green, all over my vision wherever I looked. And not for the instant of entering the house, but for the whole time I was inside, save when I was in the bathroom Normally they let up after a minute or so of this total visual field invasion, but not today. I suppose there is something about my color vision they don't know yet how to remotely mess with.

02-01-2014
Saturday,  and some light snow fall that petered out once I got my laundry started at the laundromat at 1015 or so. And most curiously, the gaggle of freaks/weirds wasn't there, just one Fat Girl on a cellphone.

Other stuff; attempting to sort out how my Synology server keeps getting disconnected when the LAN ethernet cable is attached. In other words, a logical connection with a IP address that somehow gets re-assigned. It seems that I have to tell the support person the same thing over again, even if it seems the same person.

A visit to the wine supplies shop also a car parts shop. Apparently, the owner is branching into winery supplies, and has 20kg bags of sulphite when I might use 3 to 5kg in a year. My transaction took forever as the system wasn't working, and that gave the fat duffer male, over 60, time to inch in a little closer while at the counter, he not saying anything of course. And no less, he had his ball cap backwards for crissakes; I thought it was an under 30 male habit, Said Fat male was slowly inching closer to me, purporting to be the next customer. It is the second instance today where the next customer cannot get into the spot I was standing on fast enough, as I see the blury movement in the corner of my eye as I am departing. Though, said Fat male was the second ridiculous act for my short duration in this store. The first one was standing there in black on white plaid shorts for crissakes, only about -2C outside. The he slowly retreats facing me and then when 6' further back, he turns around and exits the building by the back door. And as his car was beside mine, he gets in and does a U-turn in mid-street, my vehicle being in the center of this action.

And skunked at Toyota, whose service department is now closed on Saturdays in January and Febuary I learned from the salesman. One Fuckwit preceded me in, the salesman ahead of this three male convergence on the doorway, kept the door open for me, ever the obsequious salesman. And while parked there, two vehicles in the next row behind me had their headlights trained on me, apparently being warmed up as some kind of car dealership protocol where they warm up the new cars each morning.

02-02-2014
Sunday, and an idle one at that; apart from high vehicular gangstalking to the tanning salon, there and back, and a skunk at the ATM, it hasn't been too exciting. I went to the ATM after the tanning salon, and lo, if it wasn't functional, stuck in a non-response mode. So.. a five minute drive to the one downtown with the adjacent ATM gangstalked. Based on the loitering males at the tanning salon, it seemed to be a male dominated ambulatory gangstalking. Both had their backs to me and that was sufficient for the perps for whatever male related abreactions they were looking for. Previous days while at the vineyard had arranged male banter for me to overhear, though not to the specific word level.

And more of the pit-lamping with vehicle headlights; after my tan I was driving through a closed business parking lot to get to an alternate exit, and lo, if there wasn't a copper colored vehicle with lights aimed at me, making to be a business owner attending to something on a Sunday.

More reading of Brice Taylor's "Thanks for the Memories". It is difficult to comprehend that much abuse happening to one person, and then having to see one's daughter also being maltreated. Talk about a major world view changing book. Yes, I believe it is all true, as the supporting detail lines up with what I know from elsewhere. And her handlers also put her through financial transactions and keeping her from eating, both very common perp events for me. Though in the latter case, the perps will delay meals for no more than an hour or two in my case, apart from the all night wakefulness they put me through. She would often have the "men in suits" arrive to take her away, though nearly always with a waiting limo outside. As far as I can tell, she was never exposed to teleporting personnel or like extra-conventional physical events, as she was flown to distant locations. One exception might be that she was in two car accidents, two years apart on the same day of the year in the same location. NOT a coincidence in my book, but as she wasn't exposed to many arranged coincidences I suppose she didn't look at this one with a TI's skeptical perspective. Another perp event they like is to have someone being killed, usually in film, though in her case she saw many instances for real as part of the ritual abuse she was subject too, along with a few others that were equally gruesome. Read it if you can, as it does present a major shift in thinking what is going on in the world.

Upping the Brown Ante

10-01-2013
A new escalation in the perp brown games, as in those related to my bowels. No question they have been busy blocking toilets all over town and in my residences for the past 11 years. Last night they pulled a new one; a big fart became a brown and wet one to my surprise, as I have never, ever, had this occur, and in the rare instance of a sudden crap onset I had sufficient physiological warning to make it to a toilet. Not only did I get no warning, but I got the wrong sensation altogether until after the fact. Needless to say I was extremely enraged, but of course the clean up was more important to attend to. They pulled this stunt just before I was due to go to bed, and checking the web site of another TI I know. So... the soiled clothes sat around here until tonight and when I went to the laundry the next evening.

10-02-2013
I got screwed out of getting up at the regular time as someone messed with the alarm setting, when I set the alarm every night, and am quite sure I did it. Which meant another weekday of no full shaving, just face and neck. This is the second time this week I have been screwed out of shaving the regular areas, (additionally, armpits and swim trunk region). I suspect the morning time get-up routine will be disrupted more, as they don't stop when they go on a tear.

A blocked toilet, followed by a phone call (read, EMF device at my ear) over cancelling my suddenly too-expensive data plan (internet access). The perps like to run up power bills and other utilities, and I would not be surprised if they did it to my ISP last month. The charges trebled for last month when I did nothing exceptional. So.. onto the landline provider, as in cable, instead of the cellular phone access.

10-03-2013
A variety of tasks attending to the vineyard harvest. I was cycled from vineyard, bottling, plastic cleaning (picking buckets), humpfing plywood, and wine-making in one day. I could not describe my days as routine or dull of late, and the perps do so like to create interuptions when I am on task, especially at the beginning phase and the completion phase.

10-05-2013
Me and some 14 women classmates at yoga yesterday. Many new faces, and they put three cute girls around me and one wincing larger woman. It would seem that this advanced yoga is too much for some of the shills they plant. It was the same loathsome (and Unfavored- large gut, bald head, fugly shorts, over 20 y.o male) instructor again, doing his pacing around again, and being rather sparse as to instructions at times, though, as always, the rest of the class seemed reasonably capable, as if they had done a rehearsal. Said instructor, did his namaste thing at the end of the class, and said; "thanks for coming, especially for those who came on short notice". Like WTF; that sounds mighty organized to me; when the format is for individuals to assemble at a given time and day of the week. Some four months ago, the same male instructor identified two young women (on my R side, one next to me, and one a mat away), as "you guys" in reference to their ability to perform a pose. They did not seem like regular yoga practitioners, though they were supple, and I assumed they were dancers. I hadn't seen them before, or since, and I can only conclude that they were part of some organized effort to have students from an allied, but different practice, to participate in yoga next to this victim (me). If you have any other interpretations as to what this might be about, please let me know in the comments.

10-06-2013
Another busy day of grape harvesting, but it is now done; or at least the 95% that goes to the contracted vintner. Hence these short and sporadic postings this week.

A rare Sunday evening laundromat visitation, and a fresh set of freaks and loitering Fuckwits there. Though, at least one shiftless male in a ball cap and another one stepping in my way and pretending to be unaware of it, and then said Fuckwit stops in his tracks to look at his cell phone. How could anyone be so unaware of other pedestrian traffic 4' away? But the strangest of all was this woman, about thirty and grossly overweight, who had some 9 washing machines on the go simultaneously, and of course, the two that I used ended up in the middle of her washing machine spread. She was with this skinny woman of 50 in a while ballcap, and the relationship situation was most curious. The latter woman just had to check the laundry machine next to mine after the first one had loaded it. An excuse to get closer and to bob her head and point the crown at me it would seem. These head bobbings, noddings, and faux bows are all the rage of late.

Then when the dryer cycle was on, this same woman/woman pair had 10 dryers on the go simultaneously, again, with mine in the center. I have never seen someone with so much laundry at a laundromat in all my life. And when I gathered up the items from the dryer, why, the shiftless male passed behind my back, the fat woman had to attend to the adjacent dryer, and the ball-capped skinny woman was on stock-still sentry duty 8' away. A clusterfuck of three gangstalkers on me as I take my laundry from the dryer. Can we say "tedium ad nauseum"; it has only been 11 years of being hounded in laundromats. Just before that, as I was about to enter the laundromat (after looking at my cell phone in my stopped vehicle), the burglar alarm went off "for some reason", and I had to put my hands to my ears, like the Fuckwits, to block out the intense noise. They had me entering the premises and walking some 10' into it, before a strange male came from upstairs and putzed with his keys to turn off the alarm. Funny how those things "happen" to me.

I will post this tonight (Sunday), even if the content isn't much, as I can then start from a clean slate.

Switch in the Dude Instructor

06-24-2013
For the second week in succession, the dude yoga instructor, as in skinhead and large gut, was put in place of the pixie girl. And of course I didn't look at the schedule in advance. All those prudent habits can be defeated anytime, including remembering one had them in the first place. The svelte dancer girl next to me served as the eye candy distraction instead. But as this male instructor is vague at times, and not always demonstrating, it increases the FUD as to what one is to do. And guess who likes to create FUD?

More rain today at the vineyard, but as the first round tucking was completed yesterday, I was working on the filter fittings to get them between pressure gauges, valves and T's so they could be mounted in a series. As mentioned many times, the perps have a particular focus on beverages and water flowing through plastic hoses, fittings, filters etc. Just to think, those fortunate enough to travel to warm regions and drinking out of a just-harvested coconut with a plastic straw would likely be part of this grand experiment.

06-25-2013
The cashier at a big box home improvement store gave me a lingering stare after offering me the till tape and then taking it back to do their finger scratch on the till tape. (Why, I don't know, but the store name begins with R and ends with A, and are a Canada-only chain).  Bizarre behavior to say the least, even if she was an attractive blonde of age 40 or so. This was also exceptional as this store's cashiers nearly always have their head down and not looking at me, even to the level of being avoidant.

I got totally mind whacked, partly as a setup, "thinking" this was a Friday payday when it is a Tuesday. The Texan got my check ready today, when normally it is done on Thursday or Friday. That was the set-up part, and the invasive mind games started from there, first with noting the date was wrong and still not having a clue why. At least they terminated this game before I got to the bank and made it problematic all the more.


06-26-2013
More vineyard tucking, catching up with the rows that were tucked three weeks ago. An afternoon thunderstorm was coming up the lake and ended my day. I got to drive through it, and it was intense, though short, ten minutes or so. The perps pulled a changing vehicle color during the rainstorm; an oncoming vehicle appeared to be the same grey as mine, but with a teal patch on the hood and bumper. In the next glance, why, it was all teal colored. The perps have pulled this with faux negroes before; making an ambulatory umbrella bearing Caucasian appear to be a negro from further away, and then when closer, why they somehow changed races. Interesting that the perps pulled this vehicular color change, (or, manipulated my color receiving at the neural level) in a thunderstorm, though I don't know why, apart from the electrical disturbances.

A rare visit to Walmart, and after a freak show of four (two retards giving each other hand signals, and two tattoos) within 30' of the entrance, I made a quick exit, all to be obstructed by a shopping cart act on the way out. And how did I forget how much I loathe the store and why?

06-27-2013
A Thursday, but a day off to deal with two dental appointments in two cities; locally for a cleaning from the dental hygienist, and then a CT scan on a tooth in Kelowna , strip mall city this afternoon.

The chocolate "need" came on for the first time in a month last evening, so two 100g bars afterward (for a bigger brown color signature) and one at breakfast with coffee, for that melt-in-the-mouth sensation.

Post dental cleaning, and when online (color calibrated) the perps pull a vomit stunt. Ergo, they had me puke brown chocolate "remnants" into the toilet some two hours after my appointment. And lo, if some didn't "splash" (read, telekinetic manipulations) right back at me and onto the toilet seat and lid too. I haven't had a vomit attack since the early days of when all this came down, 04-2002. It would seem if the perps were looking for the effects (read, color energetics) of brown substances in the toilet, depending on where they came from.

Not forgetting the perps have me cycle/digest my food at significantly faster than the average; in 30 min.or less, and "somehow" I had the chocolate "remnants" last 3.5 hours. Seems like brown color testing to me.

And for the first time ever, a pending root canal-like pain dissipated to an almost nothing sensation over the past three weeks. A visit to the endodontic specialist and a CT scan of my teeth revealed no tooth breakage or assignable source. The pain was barely detectable today, where three days ago I couldn't chew soft gum on my L side. All in time for the endodontic dentist to find almost nothing. So what was that all about? Getting more X-rays to the head in another town, Kelowna?

Back in 1986-89 I was living in a small mountain town called Nelson. I had two root canals there, and both caused pain for months afterward. I was sent to the endodontic specialist in Kelowna to have a look, and after much paper filling and sitting around, he got to work tapping on all my teeth, only to find no conventional cause. At the end of the appointment he asks me what I think the problem might be. Like WTF; a dental specialist asks me after his inconclusive exam about a part of me that I can't readily see. So here we are again (2013), driving to the Endodontic City, this time armed with CT scanners and getting some, not all, teeth tapped to arrive at no evident (conventional) cause. And no WTF moment either; everything was professional, even if masers were floating off some of the equipment or coming in through the building glass from outside and into the exam room.

As always, I had my color coordinated posse of vehicles around me, and also for the oncoming traffic. Putting a tractor and (full height) trailer to block off my sight line of road signs was a good trick to raise my angst as well as recall this particular stunt for other new cities of the past.

I also had my male/dude force of gangstalking when ambulatory; two tool stores (good cover for shiftless males), and one used bookstore. In the latter case it was plain that the mofo's were herding me and attempting to get a Fuckwit parked over the very ground I had vacated. Also, to stand over me as I was crouched down to look at the bottom shelves. As soon as that bullshit erupted, I got myself to the cashier and got the fuck out. Last time I was there, and during (same) weekday hours, why, hardly anyone was there. This time, at least five males inside of three minutes, some doing reprise gangstalkings; coming by and feigning another look all to reverse their tracks and then come back again. Bad enough to have these sick shits keeping popping out to block my egress or intended path, never mind twice in one store visit. And one in a bright red shirt "happened" to walk the very street I was driving after I had finished in the bookstore.

06-29-2013
A Saturday, which means laundry, which means laundromat gangstalker stakeout. Though not many (15 or so) And I was stirred to get a portable clothesline, and couldn't find one at one store, and then when directed to the correct aisle, why three males were clustered there doing their faux shopping act. Onto the next store, skunked there too, though stalked by two longhaired males in the parking lot who departed only 5 seconds ahead of me. And lo, if they weren't in the parking lot of the next location I went to, heading in, a whole 5 seconds ahead of me. Funny how I "forgot" to track their vehicle, something that I routinely do. And the vehicular copycatting was also on full; vehicles turning out at the same time as me, and otherwise emulating my vehicular movements.

The HD motorcycle noise was cranked up to noise-track me from laundromat to my residence and while hanging up my laundry on my inadequate drying rack. Then the EC-120 helicopter flew overhead while hanging up my clothing, all to assure me that all was "normal" in TI World, aka Potemkin Village of the Harassed and Abused.

A shut-in afternoon, not wanting to go outside for whatever reason, even if sunny or warm. I get a three day weekend, as it is a Canada Day long weekend. It was to be a heat wave weekend, but so far, warm and mostly sunny. With some momentary rain thrown in too.

Some file manipulations, cut-paste etc. brought on a long round of dog barking for some reason this afternoon. As I have been repeatedly noisestalked and/or harassed for these events, why is it that this begets such activity now? And the hot-rod muffler noise came on when copying a CD to disc, with compression to a FLAC file.

And I see that my internet access has been nixed after the perps screwed me out of saving my session history, my "reminder" of what I was following and interested in when online. They like to take down my browse history, as it shows up in the tabs, every week or so. I don't know what they would get from this, apart from satisfying their excessive juvenility.

One interesting vignette at the vineyard yesterday; the Texan family member was lamenting that his email wasn't showing on his iPhone, and was waiting for an email from his wife to confirm the changed settings. I said I could send him one via the PC in the office, and so I did while he was hanging around. He kept looking for it, but gave up at first, and then came back some ten minutes later to show me that it had, putting the iPhone in front of me to see the message I had sent him. So what was that about, having me see the message I sent and then received on another computer display platform (his iPhone)? There must be something psychically intrinsic about what I composed, and who to, and what display device it shows up on. Not forgetting that the LCD screen serves as some kind of energy emitting device as well as a color reaction calibration device. Only 11 years of this abusive harassment so far, and I suspect there is a long way to go yet.

06-30-2013
Finally, I am allowed (such is my vocabulary) to get on with cleaning the bathroom of the plentiful grunge. It has been a month since I moved in, and this pressing matter did not get attended to because of other pressures. I have at least five hours spent on it and I still haven't finished.

07-01-2013
A lamentable Canada Day; I got to finally check the oil in my Camry, all to find I was two quarts down. Not any dashboard idiot lights conveyed this, nor did the engine temperature gauge. And for the record, I was absolutely on top of vehicle maintenance with my former Volvo 240 series vehicle, but "somehow" I never bothered to look for far too long. That is totally uncharacteristic and certain sign that my normal behaviors are getting remotely dithered. Apart from infuriating me, I don't know what the perps would get from this insane juvenility.

Onto posting this and starting a new week.

Rain On

1330h
The much predicted rain came on while working on the farm, and so work was called off for the day. A three hour day doesn't pay the bills, but it would seem it was part of the arrangement, especilly given then number of ganstakalkers on the streets. More than Christmas time.

Another coincidental confluence was the hair salon manager phoning me up within 10 minutes of getting, back, and I had the opportunity for an earlier appointment, which I took. Had I not been there it would of been phone chase time.

And this afternoon became a laundry time; the work wear had to be run throgh the washing machine twice due to a load of dirt coming in from somewhere. I have done this many times, getting screwed for doing work clothes twice due to this flakey washing machine. And so, in parallel, and on the floor above, I laundered the bedsheets. Another first in the laundry Fuckover games, two concurrent loads one floor apart. Then later the perps made me very sleepy while online, still sitting in the chair upright. I couldn't lie down as there was no bedding on the bed. Even afterwards when the bed was made, they kept me sleepy for another session online after the 2x100g Milka chocolate was loaded into my tummy with tea. I suppose the outing to the hair salon was all about loading me up with brown food for being kept in a chair and having someone close by cutting my hair.

This wasn't the only test, as the usual stylist somehow got left out of the phone chase messages, and I ended up with a different male stylist. He was the owner, and went into great apologies as to the mix up, but hey, this bullshit goes down all the time. And besides, he had seen me a number of times before (playing it straight here), and could of readily recalled that I usually had a certain stylist as we had gone back at least two years. Besides, I have talked to him on the phone at least 3x, giving my name each time. But the real piece de resistance was to have the two stylists side by side at the sink bar, with each of us two customers side by side in the chairs getting our hair wetted and shampoo-ed simultaneously. I finally got my haircut as I had been feeling like a sheepdog of late. I also learned that I could go in for a free bang cut in between hair cuts.

And the shftless dudes were posted along the street for the two blocks when walking back from the hair salon. And lo, if there wasn't grass clippings on the sidewalk too, also abounding on the other side of the street on my way to the hair salon. I get it; cut hair = cut grass and can we find some energetic commonality between the two, and maybe we got the steel for the scissors and the lawnmower from the same foundry. Who knows, but whovever cut the grass did a good job of laying a skiff of it along my walking beat. And more obvious shiftless dudes hanging around for no seeming purpose on the way back, at, or after each corner like some kind of dystopic Fellini movie.

And lo, when I got into the apartment building lobby, there was a dude in the prerequisite fugly baggy shorts, and an equally fugly polkadot hat, and occupying center stage with some other dudes in a communal chat while blocking egress to the elevators. And lo, if one of them wasn't the former stentorian manager, looking fully disgusting as he always did, at some 300 lb. I always know it is a big Fuckover moment when they trot him out. And one more suprise, the fat dude was obstructing my view of the negro on the couch in front of him, only visible from the side when I elected to take the stairs. Yet another instance of "hide the negro", this being the usual couch loafer, and very likely the same one in morphover as the gormless security detail that erupts near the supermarket from time to time, sporting their barf yellow jackets.

And last year's farm co-workers are up to their tricks/gangstalk feints, having "forgotten" them, as in getting my recall deleted. The ass in the face, the head bobbing opposite to mine, the turban presentations, and senselessly clustering around me for no seeming reason, and then suddenly taking off to do something else. A new stunt is to come up to me and take some of my strawberry plants in my bucket to share them about for others to deffer them from heading further away to get to the box of  rootstock. Borderline rude I would say, not even to ask or explain, though I of course cannot complain that the rootstock was mine. I sense my personal boundaries are being tested again, under the guise of work.

Other nonsense today's shortened work day invoked, and might be the real reason for the rain onset and later haircut. I packed my lunch today in the usual stainless steel container, and after calling work over at 1130h due to the rain, I later ate that same lunch on my dinner plate that I would do for any lunch in this apartment. So it would seem that the perps want to test me eating the regular lunch (homemade quesadillas) that was packed for the field, back here after round-tripping from an aborted farm work day. And also, I usually have two kiwifruit packed in the same container, but for "some reason", the local supermarket ran out of the bulk kiwi fruit yesterday. This eliminated the kiwis fruit from the tin contents, possibly removing another source of variation for the assholes.

And regular readers will know that the perps keep me to much the same food day in/day out. These are quesadillas with an olive tapenade base, chopped chicken (acquired as cooked), and grated cheese on top. Same dish, with some variations, every day, save family visits and outings. Sounds like a science project to me, having the rats eat the same food. And it is most odd that I would put up with this lack of dietary variation, as it never happened before the perps went beserk/overt on me in 04-2002.

I am going to call this one done for the day, and ponder whatever gets fed to me next. It still might be an off-work day due to weather, continuing the lab rat diet research, and the effects of a stainless steel container separate from the food and environment. Such is the microscope I am under, infinite details and their permutations, combinations, juxtapositions down to every last morsel I put to my lips, and everything else too.

PS: wondering what to give a TI for Christmas or a birthday (hint)? How about acoustic dampening curtains, not that the perps would put up with this for a moment, and just re-arrange the noisescape as if they never existed. One can always try, and for other TI's, their abuse level might not be as much as mine.

The Dental, Yoga and New Shoes Blues

1905h
A 0900h dental appointment that started at 0920h or so, no excuse for being so late so early in the morning for the dental hygienist (read, teeth scraping/cleaning, ultrasonic tip cleaner and flouride to go). And a follow-on five minute session in the dentist's chair, as she smoothed down the broken porcelain of a crown cusp that "for some reason" just let go, unchallenged by what I was eating at the time, some two months ago. As part of getting the bus on time, and then to the dentist's on time, the assholes screwed my watch to read 25 min. fast, and it was too complicated for the availible time to fix it then. (Need the instruction book as they now fuck my recall each time, as I once knew how to fix it). But that wasn't quite enough, as they also first fucked me into "thinking" the watch was 15 minutes fast, and they put me through a few rounds of that exercise, and only "discovering" that it was 25 min. fast only when I had my coat on, and to pass the time here, instead of at the bus stop, they had me update my paper journal with my coat on (a first). Such are the measures of eight years of this insane depravity.

And I purchased new shoes yesterday, Patagonia "Ranger Smiths", about the dumbest name going, but they fit and don't look busy like the infernal running shoes that the perps cursed me with last year (with obvious orange thread no less). And also, they like to have the heels wear out as part of the show to have me change footwear for them, given their rabid obsession over feet, and the color, make and materials of shoes. (And probably adhesives too, given their similar regard for stickers and glues of all kinds). So today, was the first day I wore these new shoes, and besides being comfortable and good looking (as in simple and uncluttered), they are a little higher, like a boot almost. Footwear is always a huge deal for the assholes, and it is most likely their introduction today, with the events that went on, was highly managed for whatever means they judge their success by.

And of course there is almost always some kind of setup at the bus stop as they now delay the buses as I am on time for them. A blonde babe comes to sit on the bench, me alone at first (a rarity). No problem, I never even checked her out. Then a shiftless E. Indian dude comes to loiter around the bus stop, and as he approaches he gives me a short stare, and no big deal, it happens for real sometimes, and then when closer (6' through the bus shelter glass) he gives me a longer stare, and then loiters at the posted schedule. And lo, if he doesn't give me another stare, at which point the assholes have me say "fuck" out loud, something I never do, and then he saunters by, and hangs out behind the blonde babe. More of that blonde babe "auric co-opting" it would seem, and then she enjoins in this stupid bullshit by teasing and tossing her hair. All this time the assholess have me in a state of missing the bus, and getting the next one which gets me to the dentist's five minutes late. Anyhow, two buses for two routes arrive, and the E. Indian gets the first one, and me and the blonde babe, now both standing as the second one got stopped at the traffic light when it seemed it would be arriving at the bus stop, and we board and find our own seats. The ridership and the ride was relatively uneventful, though we did get dogged by the Coca-Cola truck (think, red colors containing brown liquid, among other drinks) doing a left turn from the center lane, and somehow the left turn lane stopped SUV knew to stay in place and act as a pivot vehicle in effect. Then a blank out as to the penultimate bus stop, though I got to my stop as planned, and for once I didn't have a "greeter group" clustered around when I exited.

So to the dentist's office, and at least 20 minutes of siting around reading the yellow covered Economist, while a bloviating dude/pseudo patient did his schtick before doing the same again in another room, my mind-keepers making sure that I overheard the fucker for another round. One would think there was a funeral in progress at the dentist's office when I first arrived, the dentist and her receptionist looked at me as if I had commited a mortal sin, but no one said I was late, and I didn't feel like apologizing and doing the schtick about my watch, which was the planted notion for the duration of the bus trip to get there. Like I said, for an early appointment, I don't see why in the fuck it was so late, and all I can surmise is that it is getting like every venue I go to; protract and string me along while the cast of freaks, verbosity and all the other gangstalking props plays out; some in direct line of sight, some seen through windows and some through walls. Anyhow, the dental hygeinist was much more approachable and talkative, and as dental cleanings go, it went alright. All manner of plasma and maser games were visible, and when near horizontal in the chair, and seeing outside to the eaves and to the sky, I saw the perps were up to their cloud games, populating it with small uniform puffy clouds, and then trying wispy ones, and other variations of cloud dispersion and distribution, though nearly all small ones. I suspect, just like everything else, is that even the color of the sky and clouds is of bearing in this ever changing color exposure milieu that they are keeping me in. It is so fucking predictable.

And out of the dentist's office, though not before a loitering woman in red sweater with a black jacket over it and a leopard skin patterned scarf, mananged to stop loitering and get ahead of me when I was about to get my jacket. In other words, she adroitly timed her passage, after waiting for me to finish with the receptionist (read, financial transaction, a subject of intense perp scrutiny), to pass by me, and lead-ahead and to the doorway where my jacket was hanging. And how many times have the First Feral Family hung around me when putting on or taking off my jacket, not to mention Fuckwits doing it in the street, even first thing before I got the bus. A Fuckwit male was removing his red jacket while standing at the crosswalk for crissakes. These clothing changes would erupt on the hiking trail when I was allowed to keep in shape and have a vehicle, and they still occur on a daily basis,  even at this time of year where it isn't warm.

While waiting at the bus stop to return to downtown I get some very deep red leaves at my feet to match the even deeper slight red to my new shoes,, along with brown leaves  as some kind of color reference. I didn't think much of it when on the bus, even with the woman 8' away with this fugly deep reddish hair dye job, until a woman with partial false red color dyed hair sat in front of me and some of it "somehow" flopped over the seat back and hung down in front of me. That was bad enough, but after getting off the bus, why, a white trades van turned the corner in front of me with a fugly red stringered ladder on its rroofrack, part of the fucking "ladder patrol". So I don't like most red color variants; of what business is that to anyone but me, and why am I eight fucking years into this insane abuse from a covert party backed with endless resources, capabilities and money to arrange these fucking ugly color stunts around me?
I got the bus back into downtown, and passed through the "hoodie ghouls" arranged for me to see, this under the ruse of the area being prone to the homeless. The homeless seem to be one of the most favored gangstalking demographics, and I have little empathy with them, save TI's who are genuinely in need. I don't know what the deal is about hoodies, but more and more I cannot stand to look at them (read, managed and metered faux reactions), and I reckon the color of the head coverage is a big deal too, like all hat acts they put on for me. And what is with all these ball-capped males in their 50's or more, doing the wide crotch stance while seated, with one leg in the aisle? Or, ball-capped males of any age with these absurd fugly faux plaid shorts, often brown on off white? I thought I would see the end of this ridiculous get-up by the end of summer, but not in this town, as it seems they like to show me males in baggy shorts for some reason.


Back to this apartment for 15 minutes of in-between time, as I learned that I hadn't missed yoga after all, and I got the watch fixed so it reads in real time. The usual parade of freaks and loitering dudes on the way there, in keeping with the emphasis on male gangstalkers these days. And our two yoga instructors alternate, both blondes as it "so happens", and I swear today's instructor, once she takes off her large glasses, is a ringer for a blonde Hilary Swank. But of course, she begins the class with them on, and somewhere along the way, as in the pattern of the perps need to have metered or "slow reveals", she takes them off. This then is food for the perps to plant all kinds of absurd notions that it might really be her, but of course I don't give a shit anyhow, as I take her story of as fact. What else would one do in a wilderness of potential bullshit at every turn; the perps need to paralyse me with morphed-over persons whom I know to be of another guise is endless. Sometimes they will pull one for real, where the person's eyes are identical to someone I know, but the rest of the face isn't even if the height, build and comportment are the same. So no, I don't think Hilary Swank is in on this gig, though I have had Robin Williams staring at me in Seattle in 2002.

The usual overhead clunking and outside door slamming noise during yoga came on, and didn't abate, even when the traffic noise ramped up. They even added piano music from next door, which might have had something to do with the piano stored next to me in class, in keeping with the boundless guitar stalking I get, some erupting today even. And for once, they didn't post a vehicle outside the door I usual exit by. The fugly negro woman came late, set up her mat next to the instructor (read, blond aura co-opting), and she lasted a whole five minutes before she departed. She lasted ten minutes last week, and she pulled the same deal, leaving her mat and a blanket in place. Someone else attended to her mat at the end of the class, but somehow, I ended up with putting the negro woman's blanket away. I suspect these items are energized in some way by touching or sitting on them, and the perps needed this residual energy to remain, but without her, and determine the energetic reactions of the others, including me of course. I say of course, as it appears that the perps have created childhood traumatizations with respect to other children of differing races (see the Indian Point Project blog for photographic evidence, link to the right), and they are still hounding me over this, even if they wiped out nearly all my recall to age five. And lo, if there wasn't a negro cyclist in a dayglo lime green coat on the way back, and an ambulatory negro in the next block. And it is exceptional to see this many here, as they are less than 3% of the population, and have an unerring ability to show up in the oddest of places, like last night's two year old, with father, in the local supermarket that should of been in bed, instead of being pandered for the dumbshit race games that I get put through.

And I suppose the ultimate test of the negro games is to have a male negro lead a yoga class with me as a member, and that the sick assholes don't detect any of my subconscious reactions to, however they determine that by their remote means.

2220h
The wonders of being spun in the FUD-world (Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt), though I think Futility should be part of the once-IBM credo as well, given the perps games to have me engage in determining software and hardware configurations for backup. It all started this afternoon with a $25 dual hard drive dock from on sale via email. I have back up hard drives I could put in it, and that would work. Then this spins into getting some decent backup software as part of the solution, hence a wander into the $100 or so options from Western Digital who make hard drives, and supply software. Then, it later gets bigger with two side by side hard drives in a nice aluminum box, keeping the Mac aesthetic. Then bigger yet, with RAID boxes, ones that have two hard drives and copy it to two or more places, now into the $400 to $600's. Then back to reality; can I afford this? Of course, the smart answer can I afford not to if my primative replication methods fail? Anyhow, just an example of how I spend my hours in the company of my mind-keepers, and as always, pondering what this is about.

2300h
A narky email from the ex; "since you never contact her" [your daughter]. Like, it takes two to pull that off, and since all of my past communications with her are so stilted and arranged to be constrained, what is the fucking point? Never mind being kept in a mind-fuck and nonconsensual human experimentation hell that has the entire city in on it, not to mention the intense gangstalking that erupts if I watch her soccer games, as well as the fact that the ex has been abetting the harassment since the get-go, 1979. (Which explains her sudden behavior changes and emotional constipation, and that I could never, ever get a straight answer on all important issues). All my contact with my daughter was positive until I departed to Seattle to financially save the sinking ship (again), and I came back most weekends to see her. So go fuck yourself, and I never want to get entangled with the likes of a managed spouse again, nor do I want to be under any kind of remote control or influencing before I would consider even any kind of romantic liason. In fact, none at all would suit me fine, despite the barrage of imagery and suggestions of a certain woman of some reknown which I won't get into (and have seen at least twice). All I want is my cognitive freedom and to be left the fuck alone for all time. And if that includes a sudden Dorian Grey ending like suddenly ageing to look 56 (which I am), instead of 34 or so (which I look like), then I don't give a shit. The nonsense I have to deal with and the bullshit act these fuckers put on is stultifying to say the least.

There, done for the day, and off to get my eyeglasses back tomorrow, an 11 day run of getting fuzzed out reading until I take these old glasses off and hook them onto my forehead while I read. Which might have been what the extra long wait in the dentist's waiting room was all about, come to "think" of it.

Pre-yoga Laundry Adversities

1020h
And of course, I am subject to all manner of adversities all day long, all to keep me enraged, pissed-off and otherwise totally exasperated along with the forced vocalizing that it entails. Like I have said, it is the first and foremost play, to keep me fed up and near constantly infuriated.

This morning's games included crumb arrivals, light flashes and then sabotage of the bedsheets, duly discovered when getting them off the bed for laundering. I see they are at their yellow-izing of my pillow cases again, something that has been pictured in past postings. And when I got the laundry back after unloading the dryer, why, the assholes put a 3mm blood spot, or a facsimile thereof, on the bottom fitted sheet. Like WTF: since when did blood spots form on clothes and sheets when being laundered? As of today, in this unconventional altered reality realm I am contained in, and this is a new first.

The yellow-izing of the pillow cases is different; it starts incrementally, as if from nightly use, and slowly builds up over a year or more before I get annoyed with this particular mess/sabotage. Each laundering will somehow reduce this yellow color, but it is managed to slowly build up to the annoyance level. As for today's blood spot, no sir, instant arrival, and just to rub it in, why, it erupts while the sheet is in the washing machine or dryer. And also a brown mark showed up on the edge of one of the pillow cases, not unlike the ones that erupted on the last bedsheets, and is permanent.

And that sabotage wasn't enough, as they mind-fucked me into "forgetting" how to place the fitted bedsheet, as in which corner the single label on the inside corner seam goes. The last bedsheet set had the label in the immediate right corner, but the new (as of 07-2010) fitted bedsheet has the label in a different corner. The prevailing mind-fuck was that it was the diagonal corner, and so when about to tuck in the last corner, why, it didn't fit. So, scream at the assholes yet again, and turn the sheet 90 degrees and try again, and lo, if it didn't fit. The point of this is that the assholes fuck my recall as to what corner goes where, and had started this stunt in 2005-2006 when they first learned how to fuck my recall for this very specific detail. There were no end of rage-ifications over their mind-fuck games over this then, after some six months of this abuse, they stopped it suddenly. Two bedsheet sets later, they have restarted this fucking insane bullshit, and won't let me recall as to what corner of the fitted sheet goes to what corner of the bed. Like WTF; surely the assholes don't need me to keep turning bedsheets 90 degrees after putting me through fucking hell over this identical cognitive function five years ago. As above, nothing is for sure in this altered reality state of forced serially abusive cognitive dithering.

A heavy noise morning today, likely the "warm up" for when I set off to yoga, as there has been significant dude clusters out on the street, way out of proportion to what normally transpires for sidewalk and vehicular traffic. No doubt more of the scraggly and long haired dudes, as one in particular seems to be getting more exposure. First he was seen in glances as I pass through the lobby, then he gets seen a little more as he "happens" to be waiting for the elevator in the lobby. Then he later is part of the dude cluster strung along tthe outside entrance to the lobby, over a cantilevered portion of the building. And yesterday, he was in lead-ahead mode to "escort" me to the bus stop for two blocks. The deal was that he was on the other side of the street and should of been long gone when I crossed at the traffic light. But "somehow" the fucker delayed, and ended up only 20' in front of me, and then I overtook his slow pace outside the tire shop where extra Fuckwits were posing and cell phoning. I haven't seen this guy's face yet, only his back, as that seems to be the incremental exposure game prescribed for this long haired male Fuckwit. Doubtless there is more gangstalker mileage to go, and maybe today's trip to yoga will be cause to ratchet up the freak sighting.

1410h
A full on freakshow when I stepped out to walk to yoga. Even the cleaning woman was putting it on, pretending to not notice me as she rounded the closest street corner, she of at least three apartmen lobby gangstalkings. She being Scottish, and in very white jacket. The look ahead nonsense when they pretend not to notice anyone else oncoming. Fucking bizarre.

Then the stand-behind me at the street corner fuckery again; what is it that compells all these Fuckwits to stand extra close to me and behind me at street corners (waiting for the Walk signal) when there is 10' of space to align themselves? Fucking bizarre.

Then the dude force in their plastic bags, like they all go shopping together, big joke. Then the native Indians put on a show crossing the street and splitting apart, each wearing only black and white, and looking more pissed of than I was. Another element of the gangstalking scene was three independent negro males, over the three blocks, doing their look-away routine.

Then when 30' from the church entrance where yoga is to take place, the fugly negro class member woman (Unfavored- negro, fat)  who I somehow "forgot" all about was at the door, and seemingly waiting for me. When I got to the door she asked if yoga was on, and I said it was based on last week's class. Then she said something about following me to the class room, and I walked to the regular class room, the chapel, and she was following me through 40' of corridor and after I made the corner she just vanished. I found the chapel door to be locked and went back on my tracks and still no fugly negro woman. As I get to the front desk to ask them to unlock the room, the instructor (Favored- blonde, attractive) suddenly appears from behind a wall, presumably entering from the same door as I did. I explain to her that the chapel was locked and that I need to ask for it to be opened. We exchange pleasantries as we have not seen each other since 03-2010, and the last yoga I attended was in 06-2010 until last week. We follow the staff member to the locked door, and still no fugly negro woman. Like WTF; she was in the building first, and found the door locked, and then didn't inform the front office staff and then instead puts on a "greeting" service when I "happened" to arrive when the front desk could of helped her out and unlocked the door. All this bullshit over negroes again

And to explain the entire perps gangstalking/harassment scenario in more detail; the fugly negro woman was outside the front door, and then holds me up at the front door to ask me about yoga, and then tails me in the building for 40' of hallway, some 8' behind me and then disappears. All a big setup for me to pull on the door to find it locked, a very common jerkaround stunt that has been totally consistent as part of the stunt mix for the past eight years. Here we have some of the perps' favorite locations in play; outside and then inside building negro gangstalking, all to set up me to get jerked around at the locked door. Then immediate retracing of one's steps, always a big perp deal given no end of gangstalkers doing 180 degree turnarounds in the street and sidewalks, and then a sudden (Favored) blonde woman in close proximity. Then another walk down the same hallway with her and the front desk woman leading.

Then in the class room the negro woman goes suddenly talkative for some reason, as she always had her head down and looking straight ahead. She has this dumbshit black plastic spider ring on her finger and shows the instructor while I am stretching on my mat. Then she asks me if I want to see what she is going to be for Halloween, and I decline, and still she comes across the floor to then show me this dumbshit spider ring on har large black fingers. Presumably this was the excuse for her to do a back and forth at the re-arranged perp moment. This woman has had a total personality change in the five months since I last saw her. And lo, if she doesn't leave after 20 minutes into a 60 minute class, leaving me and the blonde instructor to finish the class. It is most strange that there were so few class members, as normally there are five or more, but that was the same deal last week, only two students and one instructor. The instructors alternate week to week; tall blondes in both cases.

When I get out on the street after class, why the red shirts and red hats with red vehicles abounded, then the ambulatory gangstalker scene shifted to the "blue dudes"; four in succession wearing the same mid blue, very much like the color of my shirt under my black jacket.

Then when at the apartment entrance, two identical dressed dudes in black coats, black ball caps are standing around talking, "just hanging out". I unlock the door from the intercom pedestal and one of the Fuckwit dudes was on my tail and then he opens the door, and lo, if the other Fuckwit doesn't stride in. This is the second time in a month where I have opened the door and some "rude dude" is on my tail and opens the door and butts in ahead of me. LIke how many fucking times do these assholes need to be so rude around the front door? The door holding dude then lets me in, so in a fashion, I got partial "door service", a very common event. So in this way, I end up between the dudes, they doing a "split apart" move, another common Fuckover scene move. And when I go to the stairs to avoid getting the elevator with these Fuckwits, why, another fucking dude in the same dress code (sans ballcap) as these two most suspicious characters and their doorway entrance choreography.

1900h
Why is it when attempting to load a resume in RTF it isn't accepted as it is not the right file type; must be *.doc, Microsoft dependent? Soo,, when I attempt to save to a *.doc file in Open Office, the free office software suite, it mangles the file. Thereby skewering me; it happens most of the time, all these adversities.

2020h
And I see the assholes have fucked this Windows session by removing the task bar at the bottom of the display, totally fucking me as to what I can do. BUT, the new upgrade of Open Office can now save *doc files without fucking them up. A whole 18 months of getting screwed over that is now over.

2255h
A troll through cinema bookmarks for the past two hours, something I haven't done in five months or more. With this significant "fallow time", the noise and masers were increased, and often erupting as a web page first came up, or when I recognized a face in the graphics. Exciting times for sickos.

This day is done, and hope springs eternal that I won't get stiffed with a shut-in day tomorrow (or ever).

Doctor Visit and Gangstalk

1405h
A 10.5 hour sleep at the First Feral Family home last night, all to shorten up my morning there as I had a 1300h doctor appointment. My mother needed to go out to an appointment in the morning, and lo, if it wasn't within a half block of my appointment location. I drove down with her to drop myself off, so she got to re-visit the same location. I do all the driving now, as she is too scary a driver for me to tolerate.

The dude flush seemed to be the big deal in the waiting room, my doctor being 15 min. late again, allowing lots of weirds to circulate and then a sudden flush of dudes just when he called me in. One of the yoga classmates "happened" to be there, first sitting across the room and avoiding my gaze when I saw her, and then coming over to side beside me when she made out to notice me. I was deep into an article about a nearby dam removal project on the Elwah River, near Pt. Angeles. Us Cascadians like to be aware of our region, loosely from N. California to Alaska. Or at least, that was/is the planted notion, and of course it won't become a political reality; my interest is from a regional and climatic perspective. But it is interesting that the very first US dam remediation project is going to happen 30 miles from here, across the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

Does that have a perp connection? I don't know for sure, but I know they are interested in natural history and ecosystems, not to mention polluting and degrading them, so maybe a remediation project is also planned by them if they have been monitoring the natural world as much as I think they have. And I do know the perps have the ability to remotely remediate trails in the bush, having them nearly disappear within a month, much faster than it would if left as is. It seemed to be something they wanted to show me back in 2004 or so.

The doctor appointment was freaking useless, and seemed to be a big deal for the freaks (aka gangstalkers)  outside, then inside the waiting room, to then parade outside the doctor's office on the other side of the building, visible through his windows with some kind of plastic cover on them. The appointment also seemed to be about having me yack on about one of the perps' favorite topics, employment and the difficulties around getting it. No medication changes and no surprise from him when I indicated there is some very uncharacteristic lassitude going on as to not preparing for the Oracle certification exams, especially when I got myself geared up with removable PC hard drives, another book, study software etc.

Other bullshit besides the parade of odd dudes in the waiting room was the woman with a small child, 3 or 4, and lo, if she didn't happen to bring in a bubble kit for her kid to play with fucking bubbles in the waiting room. I have never seen anything quite so stupid as this bullshit, but there will be something in short order to top it. I have had other "bubble attacks" in the past, and like always, it must confer some localized advantage, especially after waiting 15 minutes and having my yoga gangstalker seated next to me to chat.

And the gangstalkers wanted me to see the dudes in white loose pants again, planting them outside at a corner for me to first drive by, then walk by, and then walk away from. And the fucker was blocking egress and only moved when I was 9' away, leaving a narrow opening for me to pass through, which was exactly where he stood. I believe I have mentioned that Fuckwits loitering or gangstalking me in white pants is a bid deal and that the theme gets plenty of repetition. They also like to "blonde-fiy" the white clothes look, placing the odd blonde babe in white clothes at strategic locations.

Other freaks out and about were negroes; three instances perambulating on the 10 minute drive to the doctor's office, and then a regular gangstalker one crossing my path after the doctor's appointment. As if the extra display of negro skinheads on last night's TV wasn't enough, the CBC putting on their scary bald negro dude after the equvalent on 60 Minutes. And a special one hour on John Gotti Jr. on 60 Minutes last night, looking rather skinheaded and loathesome from my managed perspective, so no doubt that fitted the sicko's agenda. I don't know exactly what it is that the perps have about skinheaded/bald males, but they make sure I find it totally disgusting, and all the worse if a negro variant. One of the ACHES contacts, Lynn Moss Sharman indicated on an interview online that they would shave the heads of the "patients" at the infamous Dr. Ewan Cameron's clinic in McGill in Montreal in the 1950's, and as mentioned in past blog postings, I lived in Montreal then for two years, and have nearly no recollection even if I was forming permanent memories in the first year, 1956. And these shaved heads would then be marked with tattoos for permanent reference, and lo, if I don't get plenty of disgusting tattoo bearing gangstalkers as well as an inordinant number of exposures in print and online. Funny how that happens, and a host of new "reactions" to these ongoing  exposures/triggers "happens" so often.

1540h
A tea time break, which nearly always includes chocolate. That being the brown mouth contents that the perps so covet, and I assume, attempt some kind of neural energetics interaction by remote means. The chocolate is a three times per day event, and incurrs an inordinant expense that is totally controlled. There was a week or so when they totally turned me off of it, including the smell. Presumably this was some kind of reset event, or baseline case they needed to make. Who knew they were so totally beserk over this color, and finding out my interactions with it? And never mind the shit games in the bathroom that have persisted ever since they invaded my apartment in 04-2002.

2200h
More online time tonight, getting into deep review of the SOPHIA airborne telescope, a 2.5m parabolic mirror telescope to observe IR light above most of the water vapor in the atmosphere, to fly at 47,000 ft in a converted 747. Knowing a little about the aircraft maintenance business, and the delicacy of making modifications to them, it was quite a feat to cut the fuselage half open to create an opening in mid-flight for observing nightime conditions, and to support all the weight of the mirror and door fittings.

The perps started me on an IR observatory images kick over a year ago, having me check out the rare IR images of the moon, and that there are some decidedly strange and artifactural objects there. I might of linked to it, but I cannot be bothered to chase it down again, but it is interesting that the sickos like to keep me on top of IR photography, and even having me fanticise about getting a camera that is modified to collect these heat sensitive wavelengths. I am sure there is a wealth of oddities to be found, even in my immediate circumstances, and in my early high abuse harassment days with my film camera they never planted the notion of doing any IR photographgy. Chances are they would be prepared for it in advance and leave a few oddities to further my quest to quantify my state of duress at the time. They never like anything to be conclusive, and like to create enough FUD such that I will attempt another investigational effort, even if unattainable in hindsight.

More games tonight with the faux reflectance off the residential tower glass windows I can see. The residential tower that is about120' away overtops this building by a considerable margin, as it is 17 stories I believe, and I am on the 6th floor of a 12 story building. I have photographed these faux reflectance events in previous postings, and they all came from about the 10th floor or so, higher than this apartment, and had the unerring knack of beaming into my apartment. The last two "beamings" have come from the 15th floor or so, considerably higher, and ones without a direct line of sight unless I go outside to the balcony. These recent higher floor sourced "beamings" can reach some 12' into this apartment, which means the assholes are somehow bending the light path to get around the overhead balcony from these higher floors. Or, at least, that is the way it seems as I cannot otherwise account for any indirect methods of delivering light through the medium of air.

This trio of residential buildings that are used to deliver this faux reflectance over the evening from 1700h to 2030h at this time of year were also augmented in a unique way tonight. The last most residential tower was beaming in a reddish orange glow as I sat at my desk in direct line of sight, visible through the curtains. I have my tea and chocolate at about 2040h, and while cleaning the dishes and behind a wall (not in direct line of sight), the sickos decided that I needed to be exposed to the same reddish-orange light. So... what they did was create this same color of light and have it flash off the inside lenses of my glasses and to my eye. The assholes kept this up for a few seconds until I moved my head, and then took another shot of this same light via this same method. Not that it was especially bright, but there was no natural/conventional source for this light, and it matched the more distant light of the same color I was witness to some 10 minutes earlier, before I had tea and chocolate. I mention this only as an example as to how obsessive and rabid the perps are, and to reiterate the degree of their invasive fuckery and its relentless continuance.

Thats all the news and abuse today, and onto bedtime and see if they will let me sleep tonight. They typically grind me on Mondays, seeming to want to extend the day and the conditions they impose.

Noise Pummeling

1345h
Back from yoga, finished makiing lunch,then eating it about 15 minutes ago, and now the noise campaign has started up in earnest. First putting on the earmuffs helped, save the constant din inside them, and then the clunking started up which made me take them off, so I could hear what was going on. Then it stopped the instant I took the earmuffs off, then fake water running noise (in pipes) started up.

And what was with the flush of dudes packing coffee on the way back from yoga, always a prime fuckover moment of the week? Some 20 of them, mostly by themselves for once, and looking every so busy. Every other one was packing coffee, some from two blocks away when there are at least two closer sources. This ain't the business part of town, just the residential and grocery shopping, and here they are, doing the Coffee Corps strut at 1245h. And they like to walk exactly on the line that I am going to walk, oncoming, and then only recall that it is right-hand drive within 10' or so, when they usually moving over, but not enough of late. And two perp Fuckwits have a mock wrestling match on the street ahead of me, at the location the brown cardboard furniture was placed on the street last year. So fucking stupid at times.

And more of the males on "just stand there" duty; one standing between the curb and the 4' tree stump they left in place about a month ago, with coffee up in hand, and no vehicle parked there. Then around the corner, another one standing at the curb with a grocery shopping bag hanging from his one hand. Then a third fucker parked inside the lobby of this apartment, spaced out over the mail boxes, totally out of it. Three whacko male Fuckwits doing utterly nothing but stand around dumbstruck. The 4' stump has been the site of other male gangstalker wierdness, so I can only assume is some kind of energetic shrine/prop they are expecting to aid them. The sicko's long history of going beserk with gangstalkers over me cutting or pruning trees and shrubs seems to fit the pattern with whatever they are hoping to attain from this particular piece of urban landscape tree butchery. I do wonder if forest descration isn't also part of their agenda, given that it is so prevalent, and by gosh, the Brazilians can never keep on top of the Amazonian deforestation it seems.

The sickos also like me to leave my new books untouched for long periods as the lie on these bare pine wood shelves of my desk/shelf unit. And they nearly always send out a paper packing Fuckwit, sometimes carrying it in his mouth, as part of the ambulatory gangstalker retinue. They have the hots over paper and forest products for sure, not to mention their fascination with scripting the swapover of toilet paper rolls in mid-shit.

Only me and two other classmates in yoga today, which was a little odd, and negro woman wasn't there either. The perps put on extra clunking and door slamming in the building for the first half hour of yoga, and only toned it down to a moderate level after that. They even brought on a new noise for the venue, the running of water in the pipes when there isn't any water pipes within 40'. it is a noise I here all the time in this apartment, so it wasn't a total surprise they would spring one of their regular noises, but to have it so unattributable and obviously faked was new. I can never figure this out; why don't they turn every gangstalked venue into a total cacaphony of all noises as they see fit, instead of this constrained repetoire that is mostly, but not always, arranged with normal-ish characteristic noises? So fucking strange, as they seem to have got past the fact that they are fooling anyone with the bullshit noise that goes on here every waking minute, and yet they will constrain the noise options elsewhere.

When the instructor returned after two years away, the perps put on at least seven class members, some that I hadn't seen in 18 months. Its as if they all wanted to be there for the instructor's premiere, or reprise premiere, so WTF when they all filter out again? One of the class members is from Quebec, and there is a Quebec connection to this insane abuse, as I lived there for two years of my first five in Montreal. Just so I could meet the infamous Dr. Cameron perhpaps, though my recall is 99% deleted from that era, and that includes him, and and any clinical associations. I get plenty of clinical gangstalking scenarios though, another one of those "lost" painters or plasteres in white again at the crosswalk on my way back from yoga. I cannot stand the sight of these white dressed fuckers, and the perps are decidedly messing with my "reactions" to this orchestrated BS.

1355h
More infernal hotrod noise, then more, then earmuffs on, then sirens heard through the earmuffs.

1655h
A seeming nap onset after more noise parades, and then they wouldn't let me sleep after 20 min. of lying down. All they did was pummel me with more noise while lying down. Just the "usual" hotrods, motorcycles, heavy duty equipment, and even a siren to follow the seagull noise. Now that I am back to seated, why, another round of noise of similar outside sources. I get about 30 hotrod noises a day, though I rarely see them, even if I do look. Ditto for the motorcycle noise, though the sickos seem to have more interest in me seeing them, but the driver-by noise parade rarely has them for the times that I look.

1715h
More motorcycle noise, this time erupted when engrossed in reading about a data architect/analyst position. Many of these noise and even phone incursions erupt/happen at the moment of being highly attentive to reading something online, often with a prior noise run-up, per above.

1720h
Now the vacuum cleaner has arrived outside my door. I think we have done this one before. I have never known this place to so diligent as to running the vacuum cleaner, twice in one week when twice in six months was the prior norm. Maybe it is getting like every other place I have lived in, always some neat freak with a vacuum cleaner outside my door or on the way out. Even the Fuckwits themselves were running the vacuum to my merriment.

2040h
Tea and chocolate are done, thankfully only 100g, the third chocolate sitting of the day. Per usual, the prior noises featured while I was with chocolate in my mouth.

And back to the bad old days again with a sustained rage-ification at dinner time with (brown) food in my mouth. The assholes have stepped up the crumb games, and put some brown tortilla crumbs on my plate. I attempted to pick up one brown tortilla crumb, and it morphed into a dark green olive tapenade crumb under my finger tips. I attempted to pick up the new crumb form and the assholes wouldn't let me pick it up, it just magically slipped past my finger tip, then again. I was then fucked into a "lose it" moment of screaming at the assholes for this insane crumb fucking stunt, and was duly kept vociferously complaining about at least twice more in the next two minutes. That is how it goes around here, the simplest activity can suddenly be sabotaged and then a screaming rage show.

The crumb games have been getting out of hand in the past week; a big clean up last night of the self erutping faux coffee crumbs in the cupboards "resulted" in more of the same crumbs on the counter this morning. I get the coffee ground as fine as possible, it is in a fluffy state when fresh, and yet I keep getting this accumulation of coffee crumbs that are least 10x larger, even if dry. It is absurd these extra crumbs. More coffee crumbs "arrived" on the stove top, and I made sure none landed there, but turn my back once, and poof, they arrive.

Other related excitement for the perps was that I started a new jar of peanut butter this morning, the first in three months or more, having eaten coconut butter all this time. Any kind of diet resumption is always a big deal for the assholes, and I expect the "Peanut Butter Men" to be gangstalking me these next few weeks. (Peanut butter colored work overalls or work gear). I suppose they started last week with a smashed jar of peanut butter on the street when I was headed to yoga. The other side of it is that the perps don't like me to eat foods that I really like for too long, such as coconut butter. They incrementally reduced its flavor to be less and less detectable, and so the coconut butter became "blandified" from what it was initially. Ditto for the chocolate; flavor sensations are defeated within a week of a new kind.

Another "excitement moment" for the perps is arranging the confluence of starting or finishing a package of food. Today, it was the above mentioned peanut butter, and also, the start of a new bag of coffee. Both brown, and of intense perp interest. So, having remnants of the packaging in the garbage together is just peachy for the sickos. And it might have been the reason for the extra coffee crumb teleportation games, as both the "standard" kind and the new finer ground coffee was in the crumb field on the stovetop at breakfast.

2315h
More overhead noise through my earmuffs while reading Mavericks of the Mind, and interesting collection of interview with leading consciousness thinkers. The Francis Jeffery piece seemed to bring on extra noise, including the outside motorcycle noise, the most loathed of all.

Another "day of.." done, and another light day tomorrow; three errands are intended but execution and completion are always game to be messed with, and even demotivated shut-in days, usually accompanied by extra gangstalking the following day that I venture out, are expectable scripts of late.