Half Holiday

11-13-2017
With the Remembrance Nov. 11 holiday on a Saturday, this means that some businesses, and government, who are normally closed on Saturday, have decided to take the Monday off too. And as it "happened", the two businesses I went to in an attempt to get a quote on the clutch replacement. And in both instances, there was someone there. I call these kind of events, "skunks", as a consequence of dashed expectations. The business should be open, but isn't. Similarly, if I go to a store for a regular product, knowing where it is, and it is sold out, I also deem this as a "skunk. The perps just love, love, these set ups. As it was today, with extra stalking, extra disruption and prior annoyance in advance. So why is it they need to disrupt my existence so often, with such higher occurrences than before they went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002? I suspect it has something to do with a brain dopamine interaction at the moment of successful outcome, and they and their stalker assholes are on hand as some kind of bio-energetic shills/sensors to somehow record the event.

Last month at LD, they even moved the men's shaving products altogether, and when I went to the regular shelf location, it wasn't there obviously. I turn around to depart, and there are two aisle stalkers suddenly on my ass, one younger woman who caught my attention. So here we have a dashed expectations outcome again, but for a different reason; they moved the whole section of men's products, not "just" drawing down the supply of the particular item. But even this minor variation brings on extra stalker coverage for some reason. Why cannot these assholes just leave me alone, and quit obstructing my dopamine situation? (Which is already depleted because I have ADD, and the assholes blocked the very successful stimulant treatment I took from 2000 to 2003.)

No radiotherapy treatment today, a half holiday at the hospital I suspect, though one staff member said they were going to do a software upgrade over the weekend. Perish the thought, having worked in software, and of course, being at the butt end of Windows and other application upgrades. The most feared word in the Western world is "upgrade" these days, and for good reason. Even the Samsung phone upgrades are prone to stupid fuckery just to mess with customers IMHO. The notification of messages in particular; it used to be that every incoming message brought a notification ping tone. But not now; if the text message arrives with 5(?) minutes of the last text (same respondent), it doesn't ping now. And of course, no Settings to change the new and inconvenient imposed notification behavior. So why did they do this? Do they think that every one is sitting in rapt attention to the phone/text device for some pre-determined (by Samsung) amount of time? In my case no; I put the phone away and get onto something else. From what I can tell, it cannot be changed. Thanks for the upgrade Samsung, and I pray you never make gamma ray cancer treatment devices.

And what is with Windows and their Start button, which often flakes out? The Start button is everything; otherwise one cannot view or access one's applications software. Poof, its gone and the PC is hogtied. How is that for a self-destructive upgrade? Same for you Microsoft; do not ever make the base OS for a gamma ray cancer treatment center.

And a whole three weeks into Yahoo's mail upgrade, which I refused to accept, they stiffed me with the upgrade anyhow. As in no choice. So what was the point of asking me to decline the upgrade in the first place? Thankfully they didn't screw it up and functionality was largely kept with all the same visual cues. But after using email for over 30 years, often as in-house software, I really don't need an upgrade. But no, they think I do.

A serious tattoo line up at yoga tonight. Four of them plus me lined up abreast in front of the instructor, and three of them had serious tattoos down their arm. The only one who didn't, was the wife of the overweight male tattoo-ed specimen. Gross, or at least, I find it so, and this whole "tat attack" has been yet another part of the freak show the perps like to put in my face.

At yoga, about 12 yogis, of which two were returning regulars, the rest new. Again, I find it most unusual there are so many newbies each week, most of them don't look much practised in yoga anyhow. For some reason, the regular instructor isn't coming now, and the student fill in of last week is now the instructor. A most strange turnover situation of instructors, but whatever.

11-15-2017
Another of my daily, (6 weeks total), trip to Kelowna for radiotherapy. Though today, their system upgrade kicked in for real, and the whole process was slowed down for some reason. Even a radiation oncologist (he said) came to apologize to all of us in the waiting room. Though I suspect he was with the company that made the radiotherapy equipment (at best), all dressed in a suit, as were a few other males. I don't know quite why, as shouldn't they be in some backroom somewhere working on software? Having these suits walking the hallway struck me as most odd. Perhaps it was a men-in-suits abreaction they were looking for.

For some reason the perps jangled me this morning, and I felt like I had two cups of coffee, when I didn't. Two weeks ago, I did, at the behest of the radiotherapy staff. Later today, I worked out, but felt totally useless, and walked on the treadmill for 15 minutes. So much for working out and boosting my dopamine supply. Besides, the gym seemed such a "herding show"; that is, placing Fuckwits around me all the time, some just sitting there in what I have come to know as "regular" gym behavior.

The perps seem to be on the rag today for whatever reason. They even went silly on my parking neighbors at the cancer clinic. That's my Ford Escape backed in, with a near color matched brown-tan sedan beside it, and lo, three same deep red colored vehicles parked around the Escape and the sedan. (Pardon the out-of-focus, as one can thank my tormentors for that, having a knack of moving my fingers at the critical moment).

I haven't seen this stupidity for at least 6 years, since I was in that holy gangstalking town, Victoria BC. The present record for same color surrounding vehicles, parked or in traffic is eight. That's right, eight deep red colored vehicles parked around me in traffic one time.

And just to make sure there was some black reference colors, why, these two were parked in front of me before I set off from the above scene. Looks like a white one was placed between them for color contrast. Those scary black vehicles again, somewhat muted by accumulated road grit. Its the low reflectance that makes them more scary, or at least to me, and possibly eliciting abreactions for a time that I was witness to such, but was memory deleted, (1956-59).

11-16-2017
An early, 0900h, radiotherapy appointment today, meaning I had to get up at 0600h. For that, I got nailed with a two hour nap attack in the afternoon.

And what is it about smiles, and grimaces (countenances, or facial expressions) that are so interesting to the perps? This is the third week of Mon-Fri radiotherapy at the same treatment room each time. The regular staff know who I am, having seen me more than once. It is easy to pick out the patients there if they are outside the waiting room (in the hallway); they are either in the standard issue togs (blue and brown), have a toque on (if in chemotherapy), or if just arriving or leaving before they get changed, are packing the standard issue plastic white bag to carry their togs to and from the hospital. Anyhow, I was standing at the water cooler taking in water in the hallway, dressed in my togs, as I am to fill up my bladder, as required. One of the radiotherapy treatment technicians, a woman in her 30's, Ms. Cne walks out from behind me, and heads down the hall, some 100'. I recognized her build and hair from seeing her working with patients in the adjacent radiotherapy unit, as one waiting room serves both. One time she switched units, introduced herself, and got me set up on the table, aligned with the laser beams for accurate placement, as they do each time. She was friendly, smiled, but to be fair, she isn't an over the top gushy bubbly type. Getting back to the water cooler story, as I need to take in 4 cups of water, she comes back down the hall on the same track (inside of 2 min.), and as she nears me, I look at her, and she looks at me with this grimace, and no hint of recognition. Like WTF; is she on grimace duty or what? (Curiously,when she was on duty the one time, she was the only one who needed to rub some compound on my faint freckle tattoo on my front; over a week later, all the others still don't need any kind of solution to augment its visibility).

And then to contrast that episode, as I was leaving, a staff member who I had not seen before, and had no prior interaction with, smiles at me. (Recall that I am recognizable as a patient as I was packing the standard issue plastic bag). I smile back, and that was the end of it. Interestingly, I was near the said water cooler at that moment. So what are these managed countenances all about? Two of the three regular radiotherapy technicians now seem be friendly, having relaxed from their initial disinclination. The third, a younger tall woman, is still in evasive face contact mode. Whatever. It just seems so staged or else she has an severe anxiety problem.

Long term readers, and many TI's, will know that I consider my every move and breath to be choreographed, so seeing people behave strangely is to me, no matter how fleeting, is a managed event.

As an aside, where I get my water from, and in what drinking vessel seems to be such a big deal to the perps. There has been more than one stalker doing duty at the water cooler, just hanging around there for no, or little, seeming purpose.

I felt better today, not jangled. I recall the first week of radiotherapy that the radiotherapy treatment technician had me drink coffee, and I felt very jangled from that. So it would seem the perps are up to some kind of neuro-fuckery, and used coffee intake as the cover excuse. Yesterday, they dispensed with the coffee for whatever reason it seems. Though a cover excuse could be that I worked out at the gym yesterday, though by my standards it sucked. I couldn't get running on the treadmill for more than 3 minutes and had to back down to a stiff walk for a total of 15 minutes. I am getting governed down as to how much effort I can expend at work outs. Last year I ran for 22 min. straight after my iron infusion. "For some reason", I didn't do a running test after my iron infusion this year, 08-2017.

11-17-2017
An early afternoon radiotherapy session today; all seemed in order. The oddity was that they sprang a male technician on me. I didn't know until I got into the treatment room, and there he was. He introduced himself, and offered his hand (none of the others did, all female), which I shook. Then he told me as I was getting on the bed that I was in the right spot, and I said that after three weeks, I think I have it figured out. He seemed the hyper type, not one to fuss the details, always a little disconcerting when one is being positioned precisely with lasers on top of the freckle-size tattoos they placed on me with such precision. Anyhow, I suspect the "diversity show" will continue as the radiotherapy technicians tour continues.

For the first two weeks it was a regular three some, though only two at a time, save two different E. Indian females, plus the above mentioned smile-compromised woman, Ms. Cne, all single time guest appearances. This week they are heavy on rotating others in; two different ones on T,W, one of whom only shows up at the end, which doesn't matter a whole lot as only one person is needed to move the bed laterally and lower it, and remove the calf support. Anyhow, being a regular, near M-F event, now at three weeks, and two more to go, I suspect that this particular TI Victim Tour will bring on more visiting variants. Say, male ponytails, male bob-jobs, more brown colored workers etc. But at least the tall young one, who is so face contact averse, finally did look at me today over wishing me a good weekend.

And I see they have cranked on another 1kg of body weight since two weeks ago. I started this deal at 87.8kg, then was 92.4kg, and now 93.4kg. I asked the doctor about it and he said all his prostate cancer patients gain weight. Well, thanks for telling me in advance. Now that they sucked me down barely being able to run on a treadmill, this is getting problematic. I suppose vineyard work will wear some of that down, but I must wait until February for that.

And the "usual" hallway scene when I was dressed and heading out of the change area of the gamma ray cancer treatment area. This time, three dithering dipshits strung abreast across the hallway, adroitly placed at the nexus of the hallway and the crossing path from waiting area to treatment rooms. If it isn't there, it is in the 60' of hallway, at the corner of the hallway and the main lobby, or at the doors to outside. Add on the "usual" pit lamping headlights when I am in the parking lot or in my vehicle, and then add on vehicular clusterfucks when attempting to exit a four way crossing. Then the odd swarm of street stalkers sometimes. Not all of these "happen" every day, but enough to tell me that this is arranged. One day they even put on a cancer patient whom I had seen twice in the waiting room, and there she was sitting at a bus stop three blocks away, on the side of the street headed to the clinic. Like WTF; she could of walked, or else she wasn't a real patient. My post gamma-ray irradiated lower body region state seems to be so interesting to so many people for reasons they don't wish to tell me. Go figure. After 15 years of being harassed up the asshole, stalked everywhere in this insane giant choreography around me, they still won't tell me. Whoever they are of course, but they seem to be hugely influential, and do seem to reward all those who take part.

And it seems that the week's end of treatment (Friday) is also ripe for extra perp stunts. Three weeks ago it was the car audio guy who fixed my car deck's problem by unplugging and then reconnecting it for crissakes, and then drove it whole 60' to the front of the shop. He didn't need to drive it in the shop, and for that matter, didn't need to drive it at all. Then last week it was the Ford dealership's transmission technician who (strangely) didn't want to test drive the vehicle, but had me drive it to demonstrate the clutch was failing. He was a little strange it seemed to me, as normally automotive techs just love to talk shop, and I love to hear it. This week, after negotiating extended vehicle trains all over town, I went to get my weekly salon tan. No interaction of others with respect to automotive repair of course, but there was the woman at the salon, with her daughter or daughter-in-law, and her grandchild. Anyhow, she confirms how many minutes, and I tell her, and she says to go right in. I get undressed and all, lie down, and she hadn't set the master switch. I get dressed, open the door, and yell out over the fan noise and the terrible AM muzak, and request that she turn on the switch, which she does. Like WTF; it is the second time she has pulled this shit, and she has been there for over five years, and is sharp as a tack. And the third time it has "happened" there. So maybe the whole deal was to rile me up, post irradiative treatment state. I give up; just leave me the fuck alone, and fill my bank account before you go.

Everyone else gets cash splashed on them for taking part, and for 15 years I get nothing but insane and sustained abuse, and cancer too. And I get stiffed with the most obdurate stick-in-the-mud Fuckwits this planet has every known, all my working life, long before this reign (or rain) of abuse came down 04-2002 and hasn't let up since. There should be a TI Victims contest, perhaps online, where we brag about what have been the worst abuses, the most vexing, damaging, etc., all kinds of categories could be arranged. Better yet, maybe in the form of a reality show, where we are on stage, and no planted shills to screw it up. Hope springs eternal.

Then a confluence of phone calls when I get back from the tanning salon; a work related one, and then the unemployment bureau was giving me a courtesy call. Like WTF; I haven't had any calls all week, and I get two inside of five minutes just as I get in the door, a favorite perp time to get me it seems. Along with other fuckery at that juncture; scrambling my fingers so I drop the keys, having me "forget" items to force a back-and-forth, jamming the door so make it difficult to lock etc. Building egress fuckery I call it. Though in fact, they often pull this shit when transiting between rooms; having me "miss" turning the light switch on or off is a specialty at these junctures.

Anyhow; I got sucked down into a grim mood last night, so I will post this now, Monday, 1300h, 11-20-2017.

Snow Scraping Outside

1545h
The snow and the cold make for perp silly season, and there has been plenty of it while out at my parent's place and upon my return this afternoon. And for the first time, that ridiculous street scraping noise that "erupts" from outside in the evenings has a genuine cover story; the snow is being scraped with some kind of metallic scraper in the parking lot below, and so this moment becomes prime noisestalking time as I also digest my tea and chocolate. The faux neighbor water usage noises have also been erupting, and too, another perp favorite, dimming the ambient lighting conditions. They cannot get enough research/harassment parameters in at once it would seem. [Postscript; I never did find anyone outside actually scraping snow after an hour of this noise.]

The city bus ride back was its usual freakshow, and indeed, a big crush of gangstalkers putting on the red, brown and white colors in great abundance. I even had two blondes, (usually as an introductory gangstalker because they are Favored) parked next to me; one in front with a sleeping child in a stroller, and one aged with absurd deep brown sunglasses next to me in a mid-brown coat, and who took special efforts to lean on me at times. The cell phoning dudes in their touques and shades were in abundance, and they even put on a vagrant who also has access to a cell phone. They especially like to put on extra electromagnetic emanations in my proximity when the bus is rounding bends and corners, or following changes in direction of the arterial streets. The parody that I have been planted with is a play on the TV series, Secret Agent Man; now, Secret Vagrant Man, and before that, Secret Asian Man. All being way too obvious and of course, nothing secret about the Fuckwits as that isn't permitted anymore; they want me to notice their fuckers on duty, and the more visceral and repugnant "my" (planted) reaction, the better it would seem for the perps.

1625h
And what is with the gangstalkers putting on "huggy" and "kissy" moments around me these days? I haven't seen so much public affection erupting in years, but it seems contrived to say the least. One act on the bus had the dude standing over the woman who was seated, and planting kisses on her head, shrouded in a blood red knitted hat he put on her head. I was enough to make me puke, along with the other red wearing Fuckwits encirling me. Then when this act departed, on came an elderly unattached woman in a mid-brown colored coat with a blood red fleece scarf. Perhaps the perps are testing for more color complexity these days, something I have noted in past blog postings, and not always allowed to be noticed at the time.

Other gangstalking consistent acts on the bus were the luggage packers; the tote style luggage with the wheels on the bottom, and two 20 year old males with same make and style luggage came on and sat next to each other. The color of the cases were dark and I could not see any emanations coming off them, as usually the emanations, if visible, are a blackish or greyish color. I have no idea what the perps might put in these over abundant luggage packing acts, but it seems likely that some kind of electronic devices might be in order. They like to plant them ahead of me when being toted on the sidewalk. I have seen emanations from roof pods off vehicles, so it would not surprise me that the Fuckwits are packing various devices. On at least two occasions they brought out a brick sized electronic device from the gangstalkers' inside jacket, and they must of known I would of seen it at the time. They were far too large for modern day cell phones, so they may be used for localizing some kind of communications, emanations and research related fuckery. And of course, the backpacks are ubiquitous, and those too maybe deployed for nefarious purposes.

And more left movement mouse pointer fuckery; it moves fine up and down and to the right side, but isn't allowed even half the normal speed when moving left. I wonder what the deal is on this one; testing some kind of thought and kinesthetic interactions with expected outcome perhaps. [Postscript; I took the base of the mouse/Trackball apart and applied some obligatory cleaning with Qtips, and lo, the mouse is extra active now].

2200h
I did my cleaning job at a nearby Mazda dealership tonight; the boss man came 30 minutes late and that, and the tracking of snow and consequent meltwater into the building today, the cleaning job took two hours, twice the purported duration. I haven't quite figured out what the job initiation nonsense was about when he said it takes 45 minutes, as I haven't been able to do my part in less than 1 hour, 15 minutes. Perhaps this is all about more "exposure time" for all things related to duration, time, measurement of time and the rest of it that the perps routinely noisestalk me over, as well as develop these concepts as part of my scripted existence.

I noticed that the boss man came exactly when I had the cover a paper towel dispenser down, and readied for cleaning on the inside. The paper towel roll had already been mounted with some fuckery games to get me cranked up, and I was all set to clean it when he called me down to pay me, and even gave me a $50 Christmas bonus.

I met the car dealership owner at the front door; he is still on his assigned "Victim Tour", a common perp setup that has extended to this business as it has for so many. I don't quite know what the perps get out of business owners, or apartment building owners interacting with me, but it was at least friendly tonight.

As part of the intensified perp fuckery on Monday, I had a 10.5 hour sleep, such as it was with multiple awakenings, meat aerial games and parental skulking in the hallway and staircases, one passing directly under the room that I sleep in. This made for a very late morning start, and hence no shower or shaving this morning, both of which are high harassment activities. I assume it is the contact with water that the perps cannot yet understand in terms of their energetics research; water intake, source, drinking vessel, even contact, and any like interactions are of intense perp interest, and continue to be highly noisestalked and with harassment fuckery like flicking water droplets about, jerking with the water stream and temperature from the faucets, causing readjustment of the faucets, and endless other combinations and permutations. It wasn't enough that I was on a Masters Swim team for 15 years in two cities and that all the members were in on the harassement and presumably cooperating with the sickos. The perps stopped me swimming since 2004 by remotely invoking anxiousness sensations while swimming, and then completed this with an over-the-top stunt of lining up all the regular male gangstalkers in file as I was headed to the changeroom. They knew it was my last pool swim, and ever since, I have never "felt" (read, mindfucked state) like going back. Now, 4 years later, the assholes still haven't re-established this exercise activity, and have also eliminated weight training and one hour walking/commutes as part of my activities.

And I have long suspected that shaving is also a major perp interest owing to the ongoing fuckery and routine changes in this activity. It might even be the contact with the razor blades themselves that the perps are so cranked about as they have me eat finger foods for the most part to dispense with the use of cutlery. Any chopping action is a high noisestalked event, and often other fuckery is introduced to get me rage-ified at the same time.

There have been plenty of other Monday events that I haven't detailed, but continue to fit the perp pattern; pruning evergreen trees for foliage decoration was one such activity. I am routinely gangstalked by foliage bearing work trucks and trailers, and have been active on doing tree pruning at both my parent's place and my in-town brother's place. Even my non-gardening brother starts whacking at plants with shears in my presence, so I haven't yet figured out why it is that the perps are so fixated on me being proximate to activities such as pruning, lawn cutting and tree cutting as well as being around transported foliage cuttings and plant debris. And today, they had me do the pruning over the lawn area, and then over a concrete pathway with the mail delivery person happening to arrive while I was doing the latter activity. And then my mother disrupted this activity by having me deliver the neighbor's mail that was delivered to her by "mistake". In other words, the assholes have me temporarily vacate the location of my activity and then return. This "disruption fucking" has been increasing of late, and any activity is game; from doing breakfast the same way for over five years, to writing my name and to speech; it all has been under greater disruption fucking of late. Forced pee sensations are common to disrupt me in my apartment, forced "pen problems" to incurr rewriting and forced errors in speech are respective examples.

Another event today was discussing the cost of my new glasses with my mother. She has now backed off on paying for them in full, and blithely uttered something about paying for part of them at Christmas. This is yet another funding fuck from that quarter; she said she would pay for them, and I told her how much it would be, and now she backed off leaving me hanging with the extra cost in this ever cycling bullshit of disability payments not covering enough of my imposed expenses. Regular readers will know that this isn't the first time that financial "foggery"/fuckery has come from her. Last year promised payment for driving them on a holiday came to nothing, and no mention of a similar offer this year for the same duration and type of excursion trip.

Enough today, and now to ponder how much sleep I will be allowed tonight.

2300h
An add-on. I read Rachael O's caustic rendering of the TI condition, and as it "happens" I am not even free to read this on my own. No sir; the assholes were remotely creating muscle spasms in my thighs and back while reading her work, and this is not the first time this "coincidence" has happened. It is totally fucking sick that I am not allowed to do anything without intervention, fuckery and jerkarounds. And by myself.

Pounding Concrete

1040h
It is both siren time and overhead concrete floor/ceiling pounding time. A simultaneous high and low frequency noises and some vibration thrown into the mix. The perps have been busy on the latter; before allowing me to sleep they gave me a simultaneous zapping and overhead pounding, and then pounded some more after that, without the zapping. Then, about 0400h they woke me up to hear more overhead pounding. Just another night in orchestrated hell.

Once up, they then spoiled my cereals by curdling the milk, causing all of it to be thrown out with the packaging of other breakfast items that also "coincided" with the morning's events. If that wasn't enough, they made sure to keep me rage-ified with faked touches, stun-outs, going to the wrong location for everyday kitchen items, then inundated me with bread crumbs again, and adding more after I cleaned them up. As the coup de gras, they enraged me and at that moment directed my attention to look at some dumbshit face on the coffee packaging that "happened" to be facing me for the first time after the packaging was recently "upgraded". Obviously, looking at faces, humans and animals all day on the internet isn't good enough, so they changed up the coffee packaging and pulled this morning's stunt, no doubt the work of months of effort on their behalf. Time to buy a new line of coffee perhaps, though I will get to know if that is possible by the managed "forgets" that are so numerous of late.

Anothe event that likely had the perps excited yesterday, and likely for the next few days was that they set me up for a $50 bill, of red-orange color here, to be placed in my wallet. This was my mother's payment to me yesterday for undertaking the recent gardening and tree thinning. The color and quantity of paper money is very important to the perps, and I have countless wallet "disappearances" and stealings to confirm that. (The lastmost wallet theft was to steal both US and Canadian currency, and while working in Seattle for 3.5 years, I had both currencies in my wallet). This would the first $50 bill the perps have allowed me to carry in my wallet since 2003 when it was availible at the ATM's. Then, the ATM's switched to green $20's thereafter.

1200h
Another overhead pounding with a simulltaneous zapping, and me, as in mind-controlled me, yelling at the assholes. This was timed to the slow unfolding of the display of this web page. I am fucking pissed beyond all means of quantifying it as to getting zapped. I hate getting fucking zapped, is that clear enough, especially over the instrangient attitude over fucking up this nonconsensual human experimentation in my developmental years, the central reason I have been subjected to this fucking ongoing atrocity in the first place.

1320h
Cue forced yawning as I type the time. This is not unusual to have yawns forced on me at the transition of activities, in this case, from reading blogs to entering this drivel as I type.

My in-town brother was to come by and enlist me for more Windows lessons, but not even a phone call. This is not unusual, keeping me in place to delay me in retrieving my camera from the lost and found at the bus depot. My mother has a vaguely stated arrangement to meet tomorrow, again, these no-shows from her quarter are nothing new, and has the same effect of foiling other plans. I will be off the gym shortly, and then a haircut after that, which is a danger as the assholes have forced a "forget" in attending to one activity on the heels of another. Back to one event per outing, should I be allowed to recall that dictum next time, but I doubt it. There are too many managed "fuckups" these days, even if there is "improved" recall of late, usually inconsequential associations that get planted into mind.

The perps are still trying out red plasma flashes in my central vision; they still seem to be testing my aversion to this, and sometimes there isn't an aversion most oddly. For all the red flashes and stroboscoping, and my instant dislike, I cannot trust this reaction is my own as I have never had such an immediate loathing of red plasma flashes before. I have no idea as to what the assholes are doing, but if past patterns are a guide, they seem to be remediating me of having any adverse reactions to red plasma flashes. First of all, I didn't know I that I was adverse to pulsed red light until the harssment began, and as I mentioned, when my reactions are also managed, I still cannot be entirely sure. Only their 6 year long pursuit tells me that this might be an intrinsic reaction. I still don't get it; why am I being remediated for a condition, a rare one at that before the overt harassment began, that I didn't know I had? Then onto other colors next I assume; the brown plasma flashes and stunts have begun, and the loud obnoxious orange clothing on the ambulatory gangstalkers has also been noticed.

And more posting of the "just standing there" assholes of late; while at the grocery store yesterday, one white haired elderly fuck in black was 6' from the checkout, and had aligned himself with the checkout line, with two of his confreres in front of me, one taking a whole lot of time to depart. He was leaning against the stainless steel surface of the recycle bins, of no apparent purpose. This would be another example of the "no needed cover story" policy; a year ago, he would of pretended he was a waiting husband of one of his checkout line conferes, but no longer. Someone in the perp command decided that more shiftless sentries standing about is OK. Which always begs the question, who are they fooling?

1910h
This is the post-mealtime jerkaround, and I got shown a new combination phenomenon. A faked burp, whereby my stomach heaves up and down and pounding an roaring in my ears at the same time. And no actual burp. Call this new terror-tory from the perps, dishing out new bodily autonomic acts that are poor representations of the real thing, by design of course.

I did my gym class today, and then followed with a haircut. This was the excuse for the intense gangstalking at the gym it would seem; these same four assholes must of wandered past me, or positioned themselves doing nothing next to me, at least six times each. One with purple shoe laces no less, another in jeans fipping his water bottle around and not even exercising, and another in white, and constantly hanging around me, returning after I moved away. Fucking rude. Finally, I went on the treadmill 60' away, where there is no room for loiterers, and one of them paraded by me there too. I also got some freaks of the Unfavored; male ponytail and bob, red hair, the shiftless fucks hanging around and making sure I notice them, and my in-class regulars, Mr. Ethnic Gut and Mr. New Bald. The latter fucker was all over me and hanging in the proximity of the attractive female coach. Also, Mr. Alkie of the class, a two time gangstalker yesterday, was featuring himself to a lesser degree. That left only one other class member who wasn't freakish, but he has this spaced-out look all the time, and doesn't appear to go out of his way to get into my line of sight. That is probably why, only the Unfavored weirds get featured the most.

The perps are putting on at least 10 ambulatory gangstalkers per intersection now, even the high school "kids" are on the job, three girls all holding hands as they walked along in front of me with three male kids behind me in some kind of defacto gangstalking posse. Fucking bizarre to say the least. And I notice that the perps are putting on a brown colored bus to deliver a team a minute ahead of my arrival. Until today, it was a yellow school bus that dropped them off, and after a few weeks it stayed for the hour duration of my workout, there when I arrived and left as well as being visible through the glass panels of the gym. It seems that the perps have moved up the color difficulty chain, and have used a light tan brown metallic finish charter bus as of today, and having it sit there for all of the workout.

And having a haircut is always a big gangstalking event; all those samples from my hair, and having this dude close in for 20 minutes. And for the perps, I am sure the red colored chair was another bonus, for whatever that means to them. The stylist was sitting in the chair when I arrived 20 minutes early, and I suppose that was part of the gangstalking arrangement. The perps like to have specific individuals sit in the chair before I use it, or afterward.

I had my constant stream of color coordinated gangstalking vehicles; some 500 to 1,000 mobile vehicles, and at least half that number parked. There wasn't any spectacular driving stunts of note today, though the perps are getting brave with putting on light metallic tan brown colored vehicles, now moving up to having clusters of three at a time, in file or over two lanes, usually with a consort of white, black and silver grey colored vehicles as a color reference set.

And I am sure the big event of the day for the perps is that I paid cash for the first time in two months; a green $20 to the stylist and two blue $5 for the groceries I needed to get, one item being goat's milk as a consequence of curdling it this morning. And lo, if they didn't change up the packaging; now in a carton and half the size, the fuckers are taking me off the plastic containers for milk, something they already did once. Fucking bizarre.

I don't know what the Dutchboy hats are all about, but I hand another gangstalker on me with a fugly orange backpack paralleling me, then tailing behind for some 15 minutes of walking. The weird had a Dutchboy hat, as did the bus transit "supervisor" riding the bus yesterday in his ridiculous dayglo vest and his Dutchboy hat with brown noteboard in hand with white paper clipped to it. I couldn't imagine what in the fuck he was really doing, pretending to log something about the passengers when they came on. I also had my weekly guitar stalking today as well; one ambulatory gangstalker was packing by holding it at the neck in it black soft fabric case, about the most inconvenient way to carry it any distance.

The construction projects on my walking route are starting to wind down; the crosswalk and lane closure job still has the MIO (Men in Orange overalls) "electricians" still putzing with wires and kneeling down on the 2 week old concrete, not unlike last week's "flag girl" who was sitting down on the concrete at the very same location in the middle of the active paving job all around her. It looks like some paving was done yesterday at this location, making it the third time they have paved parts of the same intersection. They grind out some asphalt out and replace it, not seeming to be of any purpose but to create more vintages of ashphalt, usually about two weeks apart, at the same location, and at street width length, 3' wide, two strips offset by 90 degrees. Yesterday's paving was in place for me to walk on when I went to see the doctor. I have yet to understand the perps' fixation over these two common construction materials, but it is likely key to being able to remotely harass and mind control someone while they are driving.

On another long public works project the perps dumped a small load of ashphalt onto the street while I was outbound, having me walk around the truck as it was in the middle of the crosswalk, and lo, when I got back, the pile of ashphalt was still there, some 1.5 hours later. Freaking bizarre from what I know about the street works. The perps have extended this five month street project I noticed, and are digging up another thoroughfare, something they have done at the same location about three months ago. Anyhow, it looks to be that these street works projects are being extended and enhanced for reasons that don't make a whole lot of sense.

2110h
More games in messing with my email; the counter of how many items in my Inbox has been incremented by one, to seven, even though I cannot find these unread messages. This is third time my counter has been incremented and no email has been recieved. This would happen sometimes in my working days, I never could figure out how the email counters on mainframe email got out of kilter. Now I know; I have an organization on me all the time, specializing in such dumbfuck pranks. Fucking bizarre, and highly annoying, as I will now be offsetting this from the number of real messages I get, oddly infrequent these days.

2125h
Anothe zapping with a coincident overhead pounding. How many times do I have to tell the assholes, I hate getting zapped; get your gutless faces in here and tell me why I am being fucked with all the time.

Before above mentioned outrage, there was a series of three sirens over five minutes, one being varied in many unfamiliar ways, slowed down, stopped, restarted and other bullshit juvenile games. Now a fourth siren.

2140h
Here is a piece about new methods to evaluate human hair and its geographic origins based on oxygen and hydrogen isotopes of the water that a person has drunk in recent times. I suppose the perp lead-in is that I got my haircut today, but this might also explain why the perps have a fixation on what water I drink and how much. They nearly always demineralize and blandify my purchased water, it only tastes any good within the first few hours of purchase. And it might explain why the perps are putting on tours of the Victoria watershed, and that one of their hiking trails was over top of the city's water supply pipeline. They also limit my water intake as well; I was a six glass per day water drinker, and now it is barely one. I am hoping that the assholes are keeping me properly hydrated, as I have only rare instances of being thirsty, also a manipulatable condition I have come to know. I have a suspicion the perps can inject or extract bodily liquids and even water directly into their victims, and I would not be too surprised that I am getting supplied directly by means of remote control of materialization.

2310h
Time to blog off, having cleared up a number of bookmarked videos that were hanging around.