Nothing like a review of the year to remind one that the harassment hasn't let up. I remain fed up with getting stared at all the time, like I am some kind of feared entity when do nothing wrong, don't threaten anyone in any way (or have any threatening thoughts), and generally keep my head down. Something I have done all my life in fact, as it seemed that there wasn't something normal about others' reactions so often. I could never figure it out until the harassment came on in 04-2002, and it slowly dawned over me for the next year. After that, and for many other reasons, it seems that I have a figurative target on my back, and so it goes. Another year in fucking hell, and no let up in sight.
01-01-2018
The beginning of a new year always brings on extra harassment and other games for some reason. A visit to SOF supermarket brought on the serious gangstalking, even before I got parked. A Chinese woman in peculiar mismatched red and orange combination (and I do loathe this color combination) was walking through the parking stall I intended to pull into. I have experienced that stunt so many times, the Dashed Expections number, that is becoming routine. Even with a 4 long list, the assholes posted stalkers at every aisle location I needed to get an item. At least three stalker made three passes each. And it didn't help with the profusion of stocking/stalking carts either; now they use a 6' long version that blocks more shopping shelf access and pile more brown cardboard boxes on. Well done.
There was the usual profusion of Fuckwits at the aisle ends, along with the stocking/stalking staff members in on this act too. Then when at the greens section, why, the wretched parking lot stalking Chinese woman was loitering over the kale, exactly where I needed to go. (She should of been long gone). Here she was walking away from SOF in the parking lot, and lo, she is now inside and posted exactly where I needed to go. Screw that again, so I went elsewhere in the store, and in the process of yet more gangstalking confusion, I got memory wiped and didn't get back there. The notion that I got screwed with a forced "forget" only occurred when I was at the self check out. I finished up, went outside and put the groceries in the car and went back into SOF. This time they put a male Chinese Fuckwit over top the kale, the only item I needed to get on this return visit. I reached around this asshole, bagged it, and went to the checkout, this time a manned one, as one "happened" to be open. All that for that; two checkout trips in one shopping trip (differing checkout methods (financial transactions note)), and an Asian Fuckwit posted over the kale in both instances.
2017
Radiotherapy
I suppose the biggest event was getting 6 weeks of M-F radiotherapy treatment for the prostate cancer that was discovered in 2016. That entailed a 160km trip each time to the Kelowna cancer clinic, which seemed to be armed with the latest conformal beam gamma ray treatment. I gained about 10lb, "normal" for that treatment apparently, which tells me that it was in the least, a dopamine depleting exercise. Years ago, during the 2003 tyranny of enforced medical treatment that stopped my successful dopaminergic stimulant treatment, the misguided (or more likely, directed) criminal shrink, gave me dopamine blocking agents which popped my weight up by 25lb. For me, that is evidence enough; fuck with my dopamine (or anyone's) and watch my weight go up because it regulates adioposity (fat deposition). Call the 2017 radiotherapy a localized, (prostate targeted in fact) dopamine depletion exercise, in keeping with their long standing fuckery over interfering with medical treatment for this essential hormone. And it is a hormone as I came to discover in 2016, not just a neurotransmitter.
After planting notions that I could get prostate treatment at a proton beam facility for the prior year, which would of cost over $115k, the perps finally relented from this ridiculous stunt once the provincial health care treatments began 10-2017. Thank god that long running absurdity is over, abetted in part because I was told it would be $50k. (not that aI have that kind of coin either). All that misinformation, web reading on cancer, along with the 20 books worth, is now over.
Dopamine Deficiency Treatment Obstruction
Based on my research, dopamine is a hormone with widespread effects, and I wanted to get going on dealing with this situation. A local shrink was recommended. By the time the first referral went out, (and mysteriously didn't get through), and I finished with the fucker, it took 10 months. Here I had a SPECT scan, a dopamine urine test (low) going in, and I thought I had it all nailed down. But no, in keeping with shrinks being constitutionally obstructive and utterly stupid, if not downright malevolent (Dr. Amen excepted), this Fuckwit made the most of the harassment episode, and blew it up into a "dopamine excess" diagnosis for crissakes. That he didn't bother to phone or get the records from the past shrink who indicated that I was harassed, as did his predecessor, didn't go unnoticed. Nor did he ask one question as to an ADD diagnosis. That I was infuriated with this Clinical Fuckwit is an understatement. A despicable asshole, and no doubt directed to look like a total idiot in clinical capacity. Call it a whack-mole stunt.
Since then, and while watching PBS these past few weeks at the First Feral Family house, I see that Dr Amen is promoting his research on pre-emptive action to avoid later age dementia or Alzhiemers. He cleverly wraps it up as "Memory Rescue", but what do you think he is really talking about? Dopamine deficiency the main, and like most hormones, its production decreases by some 1%/year after age 40. One of his statements was "deal with ADD" and keep your neuro-hormones at normal, so here we go again, though I don't have a specific plan at this juncture. But as shrinks are largely crazy in my experience, or bloody minded about knowingly doing the wrong thing, (now at 7/9 plus two neutrals in my experience), one can expect that I shall have to up the game somehow.
The deplorable mental state of shrinks was confirmed by one of my 2017 readings by Dr. John Hall in his fine book Guinea Pigs, that integrates the TI experience with the medical nonconsensual human experimentation imperative, who states that in the first week of medical school one can determine who the future shrinks are as they are strange. And that they stay strange through medical school. I told the oncologist this and he laughed for a good while. And BTW, do follow Dr. John Hall's advice, and avoid shrinks like the plague if you are a TI.
Dental
Two teeth, adjacent ones, had to be extracted from my R upper side in 2017. It wasn't a big deal, though it now makes a for complete chewing to be hassle as food drops into the void and then needs to be transferred to my L side to get masticated. Both had a post in them, which is now thought to exert too much force on the tooth and causes it to weaken. Meanwhile, the oldest root canal, without a post, continues onward. Many of the alt-cancer treatments insist on getting rid of all root canal teeth, so I suppose someone did this for me, (or to me more like), except that they have one to go.
Team Work to Sole Work
I go to work with a regular crew of folks for the first time in 15 years in 2017; the kind of regular ones that one can talk to, and not the high rotation of laborers in the bulb picking days of 2008-2010. This was doing vineyard work, as my prior four years of vineyard work had been on my own, save with one helper of the prior year. There was one longer term employee I named Difficult Dick who needlessly got on my ass four times, the last time he was damn near deranged, as last detailed in this blog posting. The time before, he was totally irrational, and roundly unpleasant about it. So I moved onto another vineyard where I had been doing part time work anyhow, and while I had two co-workers, with whom I got along fine, I was back to sole work. No big deal, no one bothers me and the boss man is a decent guy and the owners know their vititculture. So it would seem that the perps are still working on their need to keep me isolated at work while testing the waters with working with a regular crew. And it has taken 15 years to get this far; fucking absurd, and do we ever have a long way to go.
Brown Color Games- Vehicle Use
I suppose the assholes and their long running interest in the color brown and my interaction with it has reached a new level. To wit, as of 01-2017 I now drive my perp abetting mother's Ford Escape, a light brown (not tan) metallic body finish and an interior of medium brown. Not that it was a sudden transition; the mid grey Camry that I owned took an inexplicable 3 months to sell, even with new tires, and a set of winter tires as well. Then the Ford Escape had power steering repair problems within the month of selling the Camry. So I needed a few trips in my boss' vehicle to get to work until the protracted repair was done. Well done assholes, and this long running stunt of vehicle color use, and of course, the color of the seats still has a long way to go IMHO.
They weren't done then though, as the Ford Escape clutch began to fail, for the second time at 115k km, so I had to rent a vehicle for two days of my trips to Kelowna for radiotherapy while was being repaired.
It hasn't gone unnoticed that there are a profusion of Ford Escape gangstalking vehicles in my proximity, and the Camry frequency remains abnormally high.
Planted ML Imagery
Something that I don't get
into much here on this blog, as it is so tedious, and is a theme rife
with planted imagery that doesn't convey well in the written word. In
the last two months the perps have been heavy on planting an visual
image of this woman in mind. And no less, it is context specific; if I
am standing up, the planted image is too, next to me and leaning in,
romantic like. Ditto if I am sitting or lying down. And in black and
white for some reason. Anyhow, I won't go into a whole lot of detail, as
this this about putting this down for the record.
So there you have it; 2017 was another Fuckouver year at the hands of the Psychopathic Confederacy, like so many of TI's out there, and they are still a long way from getting their objectives attained in my estimation. The frenetic gangstalking games while in Victoria (per above), as mentioned above should tell you that.
Showing posts with label brown color problem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label brown color problem. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 09, 2018
Monday, March 02, 2015
T4 Obstruction
02-23-2015
For those not in Canada, a year end T4 slip may not mean much, but it is the equivalent to a W-2 for the IRS. It is an employer's statement of all earnings and deductions for the prior calendar year. One needs them to file an income tax return, even in this electronic age. Some of mine are paper, some are electronic. I was expecting a T4 from the Disability outfit as I paid nearly $16k back for income overpayment last year, which cleaned me out totally. (Am -$500 presently). That is to say, it would of reduced my taxable income by $16k, and therefore provide me a tax refund for that amount.
I read on the Disability outfit's website that overpayment statement get mailed (for some curious reason), and that the income T4 is available in electronic form. So why not a single net T4 slip then? Nope, too complicated I suppose, or else it didn't fit the TI victim harassment agenda. So, I look on my "account" as the Canadian federal government's Service Canada and see that they are retaining my address of 2012. Every time I try to update it, the page flips and says I cannot do it. So in dealing with the Disability outfit last year, I had them update it. Or so I thought. But no, they had my old address. I phone up the old address (a motel) and ask if any mail is there, and they reply in the affirmative. I get the mail after work and take it home, only to find a letter from Service Canada asking for the $16k which I already paid in person at the local (Penticton) Service Canada office, July 07, 2014 with a receipt too.
Here I thought I was going to get my tax return done this week and get a refund, but instead, I have to deal with these dullards who seem to be unaware that $16K was paid, and then convince them to hustle their bureaucratic ass to get me my rightful T4 slip before the tax return deadline of April 30. And it was a Monday in May 2014 when I found out that I owed $16k; another fine coincidence.
It is a Monday, the perps' special day when things go wrong, and I get to find this Fuckup presents a serious impasse to getting myself out of the financial hole that the perps so like to keep me in. Then onto yoga, with the darling pixie instructor.
But yoga wasn't quite the same; first the perps seemed to have created a shit smell coming off me, one that erupted within a minute of exiting the shower. Then the dudes (male class members) were put on in relative force; the Major Fat Boy arrived on my R side for the very first time, he doing his wheezing and gasping thing in his loathsome shorts below his knee. Another semi-regular dude was on my L side for the very first time, as normally his is at least 4 mats away at the back of the practice room. Then two additional new dudes arrived in the usual "dude rows" at the back, one fuzzy haired freak in shorts. So it would seem that the perps are embarking on some kind of new dude-dude interaction; the semi-regular dudes on either side of me is new, and two new ones in the section where they put the semi-regulars for the last two years. Major Fat Boy excepted, as he started about three months ago on my L side doing his wheezing - gasping act. I had every intention to leave if the Major Fat Boy came close enough to hear his heavy breathing act, and "somehow" I failed to act on it. Funny how that "happens".
And most of the some 12 or so women were regulars, though some new-to-me ones.
And lo, if at yoga we weren't doing many different kinds of binds, where we reach past our ass and ... you get the picture. Thankfully, most of the shit sensations were planted, not of real origin, but I didn't know that then, only when I got back and had yet another shower to clean up. And I resolve to not go to yoga any more for all the insane hi-jinx that go on, and instead go to the gym. All that resolve will be mind-fucked from me, as they have yet again, stopped my gym visits when I was getting into 3x per week routine that I even saw some weight loss benefits showing up, as well as feeling better. So much for that. Even if I made it to the gym, the perps can make one feel winded and weak and not get much exercising done. Been there, had it done to me countless times.
02-24-2015
Pruning vines all day with the background vehicular traffic noise at almost an unbearable din level; the dudes in pickups with noisy gurgling hot-rod like mufflers were out in force, and with time on their hands. Driving N bound, and then coming back S bound within 5 minutes spells extra obvious vehicular gangstalking to me, not to mention them stomping on the accelerator in both directions to bring on yet more noise.
I ended up dealing with the bureaucracy over T4's again, though was pleasant experience, no resolution, "cannot find the records".... etc. I was able so supply all the details of payment date, receipt number, etc. so hopefully that can be resolved. (Or just plain ended, as who knows how this skit was arranged).
The last time I had a call with the same bureaucracy, the woman got quite agitated for no seeming reason. The perps just love this; stirring up people for no seeming reason.
The landlord was in my place today, no prior notice; at least the second time he has done this. but at least he didn't leave a plaster mess like last time. He got to see my "Jawhorse" set up in the kitchen area with the Dremel rotary tool nearby. I use the latter for pruner blade sharpening and for the very first time ever, I set this up in the morning and lo, if I didn't get pressed for time and leave it set up. Funny how those "coincidences" just line up all the time.
02-24-2015
Doing battonage work in the winery this morning; that is the fancy work for stirring the sediment in the barrels. It gets done once per week and imparts a creamy and buttery sensation to the wine, whites only usually. When 12' high on a ladder, the perps have every opportunity so screw one senseless, and up the anxiety level (= Fear, of FUD, Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt).
The when out pruning, vehicular traffic noise on Naramata Road was amplified up, along with extra traffic it would seem. Having three excavators digging in the neighborhood is doubtless part of the perp experiment abuse show, though to me it is just more additional noise. Have I mentioned the perps go crazy over displaying soils, their colors and go as far as arranging dirt splattered vehicles around me all the time? And it is high dirt season, wintertime in snowy climes, and ski hills around too.
The entire winery crew is away tomorrow and next day, and as I don't have keys to the winery, I must take the Electrocoupe home with me. A 30"x18" plastic red box with white foam in it for the tools and charger, and the red vest with the battery pack, as well as the electric pruner. I took Electrocoupe home which begat extra fore and aft vehicular gangstalking
And no small matter, the Electrocoupe has a 2.4kg battery pack that fits around my waist for all of the pruning activity. And we know who likes to plant batteries (an unresolved dipole) around their selected victims. That it is in a red vest is also significant, as the perps never let me wear red. Only gangstalkers can wear red, in their ever frequent choreography of entrances and exits.
Speaking of red, the color is becoming more frequent. For example, the perps making my face go red after work; a little early in the year for sun effects, and too, it gets worse when I am indoors. They put this on two days ago for yoga after work, and seemingly they need some red-red testing between me and the Electrocoupe case and vest.
Plenty of screaming at the assholes tonight; they ran a sharp knife into my hand, they blocked the toilet for the first time in over six months,(extremely rare to have two shits in one day, more like one every four to six days), they dropped items from my hand, dumped salt I was applying to my dinner plate onto the stove top... and on and on.
02-26-2015
On vineyard pruning all day; all of the staff (5) are away today and tomorrow for the big wine show of the year, the Vancouver Wine Festival, a money spinner for the Vancouver Art Gallery. So... I am locked out of the winery, the warm location where I usually have my lunch, as they haven't cut me a new key set yet. Not a big deal, as I have sat in my vehicle for lunch time on other vineyard gigs. Though, the pattern of all owners/employees fleeing the site while I work there alone isn't new, as this same routine "happened" often with the owners of the past vineyard I worked at.
The Naramata Road (adjacent to the vineyard) traffic noise is louder it seems today, and it wasn't just the four included motorcycles today, arriving two weeks earlier than last year. And the peps know how much I loathe the infernal HD noise. So... what do they do? Why have the same motorcycle/rider pass by N bound, then S bound four minutes later, and then return N bound to take a nearby orthogonal turn off road W bound and then return two minutes later E bound to then turn S bound for the second time. I cannot conceive of a reason why a motorcycle driver and passenger would be so pointless and frenetic on a chilly day in late Feburary, except given an incentive to make the freaking HD noise in the noisescape of this TI victim, all arranged in advance. I still have no idea as to why the perps are berserk over motorcycle noise and the whole leathers dress schtick that goes with it.
As usual, plenty of perp orchestrated hassles; having the pruners cut the trellis wire (twice), and have the pruners contact the trellis wire to hack up the just-sharpened blade (at least 8x). Sometimes they will even have me look at my fingers in their control and contact or break the trellis wire while looking at it happen, ensuring that I am totally clued out, when it would be last most notion I would have if I was in full and sole command of my faculties. Other times, I don't even see how the trellis wire was contacted/broken as I don't even see the wire and only become aware after making the pruning cut from the different noise a wire contact/break makes.
Finshed cleaning up to toilet this evening; the shot of bleach and some wait time seems to work, though it did threaten to overflow though a small bucketful scooped off the top and transferred to the shower drain avoided that potentially messy outcome. And too, for the prior 24 hours, the wait time, the perps had me pissing directly into the shower, something of interest to them as part of this exercise.
This would be the first blocked toilet in 6 months or so, and regular readers will know it occurred 95% of the time from 2002 when they first struck overtly to end of 2011. In a shared house in 2012 they restarted their shit games, and once out of there, it was diminshed. I reckon toilet blocking games are going to "happen" at my new worksite, just as they did at the last one. And too, walking over the septic field, unknowingly usually, is always a perp interest.
Other aspects of the "browning around" are the band-aid on my L thumb they cut with a knife, per above. And too, the color of the band-aid changes according to the ambient lighting conditions; it goes a curious straw color in daylight, and darker brown in incandescent light. I suspect the assholes cannot yet duplicate my native brown color detection/reception, as in retinal sensitivity, and are messing with my ability to receive this color. Reds and yellows may also be giving the perps similar problems given the heavy emphasis of these colors, often in combination.
A call from the Disability people about my overpayment yesterday; it was the weirdest thing, an apparently speech disabled person was using an intermediary, a telephone "operator", to translate the seeming keyboard output into speech. I suspect they could hear what I was saying, but the operator did the "translation" from text to speech for me to hear. And, as always, nothing is a coincidence, nor even happen-chance in this highly controlled and manipulated existence I live in. Sooo... I suspect that the perps wanted to separate the voice/response from the originator (the speech disabled person from the Disability department), from the operator who translated it. The fact that my voice will change over the duration of a half hour phone call isn't new, and it would be the perps attempting some kind of continuity fuckery of a similar vein.
And was this the ultimate purpose of the Disability repayment fuckover stunt? Regular readers of 2014 will know I had to pay back $16k of benefits, and my daughter some $1800 (paid by me), back in May 2014. I paid it back in July 07, and got a reciept for it, and they finally cashed the check some three weeks later. Then, as mentioned above, I expect to get a T4, but instead, I find that they are still asking me for the money. Finally, (I hope), this fuck up is over, and they also sort out my daughter's too (like I asked) them today over the phone. It is insane to be put through financial penury and to then get my financial transactions sabotaged for 8 months. What is the matter with the perps that they must sabotage everything I do, especially finances?
02-27-2015
The last day of February, work days that is. Spent pruning vines in the vineyard. It got cold in the morning so I drove back into town, a 10 min. commute for a hot lunch and to get long underwear on and my ski jacket that has a snow skirt on the inside to stop drafts from blowing my my spine, as with the shorter jacket. And getting a long enough jacket to cover my ass and not ride up when bending over is a HUGE deal, as the perps so like to exploit these opportunities to run cool air inside my garments. I also got my Baffin Minus 100 boots on, good for 100C below zero. The perps like to chill selective portions of me down go guide my clothing choices and changes.
Another "per usual" day of pruning vines; the punishing roadside traffic noise, the constant background hum of 1km distant excavators (3) plus skid-steer loaders, and sheep, dogs and other animals adding their bit. Then the pruning itself; the assholes still won't let me take the electric shears/pruners to the vine and cut it; no... sir, not allowed. Instead they guide the pruners to be above or below or where I want to cut, or else guide them so the lower jaw, and not the shear to the cutting position. All to force me to relocate the pruner to the very location I wish to cut. That is if they don't jiggle the pruner while in mid-cut and have it not cut where I wished. Which is the epitome of this insane abuse-athon I am cast into. Read on.
Back in 2002, among other affronts, they run me out of an IT job, to no permitted job, but instead this "disability". Only in 2008 did they allow me to do farm work to get me out of the spending hole they also imposed. Things move along like this until 2012 when they let me move to the Okanagan Valley and attend three months of viticulture (grape vine tending) class. So I manage to get some jobs for longer term employment, and includes wielding hand pruners in this over-vigorous vineyard for 2.5 years. Now we are closing in on three years of viticulture work, and the assholes won't let me place a pair of pruning shear where I want, but instead mess with me at every cut and have me "miss" where to place them. Think of that; coming on 13 years of this insane abuse, now rendered down to vineyard worker, and they won't let me place a pair of pruners, tools of the trade, where I want. I make perhaps high hundreds or maybe 1 to 2K cuts in a day, and they see it as their job to mess me around on every one, all day long on these and similar tasks. Talk about insanity gone amok gone, anal retentive; the perps have this in spades and yet continue to inflict me with this aberrant and sick mindset for 13 years nearly, and counting.
And it doesn't end there for pruning obstruction either; they had me cut two trellis wires today and ran the electric pruners into the trellis wires at least 10x today, creating yet another sharpening job, now every night of the week. Just a typical day of pruning where my finger movements aren't my own.
02-28-2015
A dude clusterfuck at the laundromat, including Camaro Man who followed my pattern of late morning-early afternoon visits to early morning (about 0930h). Camaro Man steps up right behind me when I exited the washroom. Which meant that he was in the adjacent washroom and "happened" to exit the same time as me, and follows me on my heels just about. He had his head down pretending he didn't notice; normal (pre-overt harassment) would stop and say "excuse me", but as there has been a universal near abandonment of manners in my proximity it doesn't happen. I turn around to face the asshole, and he takes a L turn, still with head down and pretending not to notice I was pissed (metaphorically). The other dipshit in red stood still to constrict egress, and the laundromat manager was in on it too.
Then another clusterfuck at Wrs, a discount chain where I went to get nail laquer to seal the felt pen wring on the side of my diamond honing stones. I had to ask for help as I don't know nail polish from skin polish, and a tall-as-me young woman in brown-red dyed hair "helped", as in messed around with three identical little boxes, and made out she was looking for something else when nothing more was there.
Then the perps had me purchase a small frypan, which was what was going to put back but then a rush of gangstalkers came on and I scooted to the front till with both items, with a duffer-dude on parallel faux shopping to obstruct my path (artfully waddling in parallel) and then a tattoo-ed big girl had her buggy with child in it also obstructed my path to the available checkout. The cashier was at least friendly and made a comment about the frypan, and finished with a forced grin that became a grimmace. Don't worry about acting dear, I see these strange looks of imminent peril/scaredness all the time.
Before I set off from the parking lot into Wrs I get this dude in a lime green T-shirt some 20' away heading to his vehicle. The assumption was that he had finished shopping and was going to depart. Not a bit of if, he drops something off in his vehicle and then lead-ahead stalks me into Wrs. Talk about obvious stalking, the assholes were going a little silly today.
03-02-2015
Skipping Sunday, but am getting this posted ASAP.
For those not in Canada, a year end T4 slip may not mean much, but it is the equivalent to a W-2 for the IRS. It is an employer's statement of all earnings and deductions for the prior calendar year. One needs them to file an income tax return, even in this electronic age. Some of mine are paper, some are electronic. I was expecting a T4 from the Disability outfit as I paid nearly $16k back for income overpayment last year, which cleaned me out totally. (Am -$500 presently). That is to say, it would of reduced my taxable income by $16k, and therefore provide me a tax refund for that amount.
I read on the Disability outfit's website that overpayment statement get mailed (for some curious reason), and that the income T4 is available in electronic form. So why not a single net T4 slip then? Nope, too complicated I suppose, or else it didn't fit the TI victim harassment agenda. So, I look on my "account" as the Canadian federal government's Service Canada and see that they are retaining my address of 2012. Every time I try to update it, the page flips and says I cannot do it. So in dealing with the Disability outfit last year, I had them update it. Or so I thought. But no, they had my old address. I phone up the old address (a motel) and ask if any mail is there, and they reply in the affirmative. I get the mail after work and take it home, only to find a letter from Service Canada asking for the $16k which I already paid in person at the local (Penticton) Service Canada office, July 07, 2014 with a receipt too.
Here I thought I was going to get my tax return done this week and get a refund, but instead, I have to deal with these dullards who seem to be unaware that $16K was paid, and then convince them to hustle their bureaucratic ass to get me my rightful T4 slip before the tax return deadline of April 30. And it was a Monday in May 2014 when I found out that I owed $16k; another fine coincidence.
It is a Monday, the perps' special day when things go wrong, and I get to find this Fuckup presents a serious impasse to getting myself out of the financial hole that the perps so like to keep me in. Then onto yoga, with the darling pixie instructor.
But yoga wasn't quite the same; first the perps seemed to have created a shit smell coming off me, one that erupted within a minute of exiting the shower. Then the dudes (male class members) were put on in relative force; the Major Fat Boy arrived on my R side for the very first time, he doing his wheezing and gasping thing in his loathsome shorts below his knee. Another semi-regular dude was on my L side for the very first time, as normally his is at least 4 mats away at the back of the practice room. Then two additional new dudes arrived in the usual "dude rows" at the back, one fuzzy haired freak in shorts. So it would seem that the perps are embarking on some kind of new dude-dude interaction; the semi-regular dudes on either side of me is new, and two new ones in the section where they put the semi-regulars for the last two years. Major Fat Boy excepted, as he started about three months ago on my L side doing his wheezing - gasping act. I had every intention to leave if the Major Fat Boy came close enough to hear his heavy breathing act, and "somehow" I failed to act on it. Funny how that "happens".
And most of the some 12 or so women were regulars, though some new-to-me ones.
And lo, if at yoga we weren't doing many different kinds of binds, where we reach past our ass and ... you get the picture. Thankfully, most of the shit sensations were planted, not of real origin, but I didn't know that then, only when I got back and had yet another shower to clean up. And I resolve to not go to yoga any more for all the insane hi-jinx that go on, and instead go to the gym. All that resolve will be mind-fucked from me, as they have yet again, stopped my gym visits when I was getting into 3x per week routine that I even saw some weight loss benefits showing up, as well as feeling better. So much for that. Even if I made it to the gym, the perps can make one feel winded and weak and not get much exercising done. Been there, had it done to me countless times.
02-24-2015
Pruning vines all day with the background vehicular traffic noise at almost an unbearable din level; the dudes in pickups with noisy gurgling hot-rod like mufflers were out in force, and with time on their hands. Driving N bound, and then coming back S bound within 5 minutes spells extra obvious vehicular gangstalking to me, not to mention them stomping on the accelerator in both directions to bring on yet more noise.
I ended up dealing with the bureaucracy over T4's again, though was pleasant experience, no resolution, "cannot find the records".... etc. I was able so supply all the details of payment date, receipt number, etc. so hopefully that can be resolved. (Or just plain ended, as who knows how this skit was arranged).
The last time I had a call with the same bureaucracy, the woman got quite agitated for no seeming reason. The perps just love this; stirring up people for no seeming reason.
The landlord was in my place today, no prior notice; at least the second time he has done this. but at least he didn't leave a plaster mess like last time. He got to see my "Jawhorse" set up in the kitchen area with the Dremel rotary tool nearby. I use the latter for pruner blade sharpening and for the very first time ever, I set this up in the morning and lo, if I didn't get pressed for time and leave it set up. Funny how those "coincidences" just line up all the time.
02-24-2015
Doing battonage work in the winery this morning; that is the fancy work for stirring the sediment in the barrels. It gets done once per week and imparts a creamy and buttery sensation to the wine, whites only usually. When 12' high on a ladder, the perps have every opportunity so screw one senseless, and up the anxiety level (= Fear, of FUD, Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt).
The when out pruning, vehicular traffic noise on Naramata Road was amplified up, along with extra traffic it would seem. Having three excavators digging in the neighborhood is doubtless part of the perp experiment abuse show, though to me it is just more additional noise. Have I mentioned the perps go crazy over displaying soils, their colors and go as far as arranging dirt splattered vehicles around me all the time? And it is high dirt season, wintertime in snowy climes, and ski hills around too.
The entire winery crew is away tomorrow and next day, and as I don't have keys to the winery, I must take the Electrocoupe home with me. A 30"x18" plastic red box with white foam in it for the tools and charger, and the red vest with the battery pack, as well as the electric pruner. I took Electrocoupe home which begat extra fore and aft vehicular gangstalking
And no small matter, the Electrocoupe has a 2.4kg battery pack that fits around my waist for all of the pruning activity. And we know who likes to plant batteries (an unresolved dipole) around their selected victims. That it is in a red vest is also significant, as the perps never let me wear red. Only gangstalkers can wear red, in their ever frequent choreography of entrances and exits.
Speaking of red, the color is becoming more frequent. For example, the perps making my face go red after work; a little early in the year for sun effects, and too, it gets worse when I am indoors. They put this on two days ago for yoga after work, and seemingly they need some red-red testing between me and the Electrocoupe case and vest.
Plenty of screaming at the assholes tonight; they ran a sharp knife into my hand, they blocked the toilet for the first time in over six months,(extremely rare to have two shits in one day, more like one every four to six days), they dropped items from my hand, dumped salt I was applying to my dinner plate onto the stove top... and on and on.
02-26-2015
On vineyard pruning all day; all of the staff (5) are away today and tomorrow for the big wine show of the year, the Vancouver Wine Festival, a money spinner for the Vancouver Art Gallery. So... I am locked out of the winery, the warm location where I usually have my lunch, as they haven't cut me a new key set yet. Not a big deal, as I have sat in my vehicle for lunch time on other vineyard gigs. Though, the pattern of all owners/employees fleeing the site while I work there alone isn't new, as this same routine "happened" often with the owners of the past vineyard I worked at.
The Naramata Road (adjacent to the vineyard) traffic noise is louder it seems today, and it wasn't just the four included motorcycles today, arriving two weeks earlier than last year. And the peps know how much I loathe the infernal HD noise. So... what do they do? Why have the same motorcycle/rider pass by N bound, then S bound four minutes later, and then return N bound to take a nearby orthogonal turn off road W bound and then return two minutes later E bound to then turn S bound for the second time. I cannot conceive of a reason why a motorcycle driver and passenger would be so pointless and frenetic on a chilly day in late Feburary, except given an incentive to make the freaking HD noise in the noisescape of this TI victim, all arranged in advance. I still have no idea as to why the perps are berserk over motorcycle noise and the whole leathers dress schtick that goes with it.
As usual, plenty of perp orchestrated hassles; having the pruners cut the trellis wire (twice), and have the pruners contact the trellis wire to hack up the just-sharpened blade (at least 8x). Sometimes they will even have me look at my fingers in their control and contact or break the trellis wire while looking at it happen, ensuring that I am totally clued out, when it would be last most notion I would have if I was in full and sole command of my faculties. Other times, I don't even see how the trellis wire was contacted/broken as I don't even see the wire and only become aware after making the pruning cut from the different noise a wire contact/break makes.
Finshed cleaning up to toilet this evening; the shot of bleach and some wait time seems to work, though it did threaten to overflow though a small bucketful scooped off the top and transferred to the shower drain avoided that potentially messy outcome. And too, for the prior 24 hours, the wait time, the perps had me pissing directly into the shower, something of interest to them as part of this exercise.
This would be the first blocked toilet in 6 months or so, and regular readers will know it occurred 95% of the time from 2002 when they first struck overtly to end of 2011. In a shared house in 2012 they restarted their shit games, and once out of there, it was diminshed. I reckon toilet blocking games are going to "happen" at my new worksite, just as they did at the last one. And too, walking over the septic field, unknowingly usually, is always a perp interest.
Other aspects of the "browning around" are the band-aid on my L thumb they cut with a knife, per above. And too, the color of the band-aid changes according to the ambient lighting conditions; it goes a curious straw color in daylight, and darker brown in incandescent light. I suspect the assholes cannot yet duplicate my native brown color detection/reception, as in retinal sensitivity, and are messing with my ability to receive this color. Reds and yellows may also be giving the perps similar problems given the heavy emphasis of these colors, often in combination.
A call from the Disability people about my overpayment yesterday; it was the weirdest thing, an apparently speech disabled person was using an intermediary, a telephone "operator", to translate the seeming keyboard output into speech. I suspect they could hear what I was saying, but the operator did the "translation" from text to speech for me to hear. And, as always, nothing is a coincidence, nor even happen-chance in this highly controlled and manipulated existence I live in. Sooo... I suspect that the perps wanted to separate the voice/response from the originator (the speech disabled person from the Disability department), from the operator who translated it. The fact that my voice will change over the duration of a half hour phone call isn't new, and it would be the perps attempting some kind of continuity fuckery of a similar vein.
And was this the ultimate purpose of the Disability repayment fuckover stunt? Regular readers of 2014 will know I had to pay back $16k of benefits, and my daughter some $1800 (paid by me), back in May 2014. I paid it back in July 07, and got a reciept for it, and they finally cashed the check some three weeks later. Then, as mentioned above, I expect to get a T4, but instead, I find that they are still asking me for the money. Finally, (I hope), this fuck up is over, and they also sort out my daughter's too (like I asked) them today over the phone. It is insane to be put through financial penury and to then get my financial transactions sabotaged for 8 months. What is the matter with the perps that they must sabotage everything I do, especially finances?
02-27-2015
The last day of February, work days that is. Spent pruning vines in the vineyard. It got cold in the morning so I drove back into town, a 10 min. commute for a hot lunch and to get long underwear on and my ski jacket that has a snow skirt on the inside to stop drafts from blowing my my spine, as with the shorter jacket. And getting a long enough jacket to cover my ass and not ride up when bending over is a HUGE deal, as the perps so like to exploit these opportunities to run cool air inside my garments. I also got my Baffin Minus 100 boots on, good for 100C below zero. The perps like to chill selective portions of me down go guide my clothing choices and changes.
Another "per usual" day of pruning vines; the punishing roadside traffic noise, the constant background hum of 1km distant excavators (3) plus skid-steer loaders, and sheep, dogs and other animals adding their bit. Then the pruning itself; the assholes still won't let me take the electric shears/pruners to the vine and cut it; no... sir, not allowed. Instead they guide the pruners to be above or below or where I want to cut, or else guide them so the lower jaw, and not the shear to the cutting position. All to force me to relocate the pruner to the very location I wish to cut. That is if they don't jiggle the pruner while in mid-cut and have it not cut where I wished. Which is the epitome of this insane abuse-athon I am cast into. Read on.
Back in 2002, among other affronts, they run me out of an IT job, to no permitted job, but instead this "disability". Only in 2008 did they allow me to do farm work to get me out of the spending hole they also imposed. Things move along like this until 2012 when they let me move to the Okanagan Valley and attend three months of viticulture (grape vine tending) class. So I manage to get some jobs for longer term employment, and includes wielding hand pruners in this over-vigorous vineyard for 2.5 years. Now we are closing in on three years of viticulture work, and the assholes won't let me place a pair of pruning shear where I want, but instead mess with me at every cut and have me "miss" where to place them. Think of that; coming on 13 years of this insane abuse, now rendered down to vineyard worker, and they won't let me place a pair of pruners, tools of the trade, where I want. I make perhaps high hundreds or maybe 1 to 2K cuts in a day, and they see it as their job to mess me around on every one, all day long on these and similar tasks. Talk about insanity gone amok gone, anal retentive; the perps have this in spades and yet continue to inflict me with this aberrant and sick mindset for 13 years nearly, and counting.
And it doesn't end there for pruning obstruction either; they had me cut two trellis wires today and ran the electric pruners into the trellis wires at least 10x today, creating yet another sharpening job, now every night of the week. Just a typical day of pruning where my finger movements aren't my own.
02-28-2015
A dude clusterfuck at the laundromat, including Camaro Man who followed my pattern of late morning-early afternoon visits to early morning (about 0930h). Camaro Man steps up right behind me when I exited the washroom. Which meant that he was in the adjacent washroom and "happened" to exit the same time as me, and follows me on my heels just about. He had his head down pretending he didn't notice; normal (pre-overt harassment) would stop and say "excuse me", but as there has been a universal near abandonment of manners in my proximity it doesn't happen. I turn around to face the asshole, and he takes a L turn, still with head down and pretending not to notice I was pissed (metaphorically). The other dipshit in red stood still to constrict egress, and the laundromat manager was in on it too.
Then another clusterfuck at Wrs, a discount chain where I went to get nail laquer to seal the felt pen wring on the side of my diamond honing stones. I had to ask for help as I don't know nail polish from skin polish, and a tall-as-me young woman in brown-red dyed hair "helped", as in messed around with three identical little boxes, and made out she was looking for something else when nothing more was there.
Then the perps had me purchase a small frypan, which was what was going to put back but then a rush of gangstalkers came on and I scooted to the front till with both items, with a duffer-dude on parallel faux shopping to obstruct my path (artfully waddling in parallel) and then a tattoo-ed big girl had her buggy with child in it also obstructed my path to the available checkout. The cashier was at least friendly and made a comment about the frypan, and finished with a forced grin that became a grimmace. Don't worry about acting dear, I see these strange looks of imminent peril/scaredness all the time.
Before I set off from the parking lot into Wrs I get this dude in a lime green T-shirt some 20' away heading to his vehicle. The assumption was that he had finished shopping and was going to depart. Not a bit of if, he drops something off in his vehicle and then lead-ahead stalks me into Wrs. Talk about obvious stalking, the assholes were going a little silly today.
03-02-2015
Skipping Sunday, but am getting this posted ASAP.
Monday, December 09, 2013
Gangstalk Capital of Canada
12-04-2013
That would be where I am, Victoria, British Columbia, having flown here yesterday for visiting the First Feral Family, the quisling sick asses that abet the perps at every moment, as/when needed. Or, as it seems, perhaps the Clusterfuck Capital of Canada, the arranged confluences of ambulatory gangstalkers who cluster around me to keep me in place for a few extra seconds. Ditto with vehicles.
And what a mighty gangstalking it was at this moment, 1600h or so, dusk time. This is when the perps go particularly nuts with showing me red and yellow colors, both of which are very Unfavored. Not to mention the "stand arounds", mostly biddies and adult males, also both Unfavored. And of course they put on the blonde babe with doe eyes to get my attention (3x in the store), and they immediately switch me to a skinheaded male (2x Unfavored) passing nearby. Then these weirds which stalked me at the small specialty grocery store then "show up" at my next stop, the ever cooperating LD store (a chain of them). That was enough to send me out of there, but of course I got held up by the prior customer at the checkout, and just when I wanted to exit, why, a swarm of three were doing their hindering thing at the door. Only the blonde babe (different one) matched my walking speed. Then the walk-directly-at-me stunt, without benefit of manners of any kind, let alone eye contact. Like WTF; who in hell walks in a busy public area without checking out where they are going?
The waxing urge came on too, having got it done earlier this afternoon. I won't say where, but for the first time, the clinician was in her vegetable garden and had a bunch of chives in her hand when leading me into her suburban basement studio. That and her black and white houndstooth patterned coat to her mid-calf. Not exactly gardening garb.
And a whole lot of eating brown colored cookies too, another "urge" that came on, largely because they were abundant at this First Feral Family house.
No chocolate allowed at the LD store visitation; the shopping baskets weren't to be found, and that made it problematic to carry the items to the cashier. Therefore, only shaving foam and for some strange reason, scar abatement product. I don't have any scars to treat, so what is this about? And if you follow the perp habits, they like me to buy items months, if not a year or more in advance of needing it. My sleeping matress in Penticton was purchased a year in advance of sleeping on it, as the former four residences all supplied a bed. (Two were winter time rate motels, and two were supplied by the landladies). Same for the cot; given to me by the farmer colleague, and unused until 06-2013). I have a pair of steel toed work boots since 2008, that I "needed" for upcoming construction work that never materialized, and they remain unworn still.
Back to the above mentioned LD gangstalk scene. Recall that the perps skunked me earlier this week at the LD store in Penticton with five gangstalkers and a stocking/stalking cart (replete with brown boxes), that now ubiquitous prop in almost every store. And in true LD store staffing style, one checkout open when there are eight of them, and all to confine me to the obstructing line up and have the customer behind me nearly up my asshole.
And arranged breakage of a French press style coffee pot at the FFF house; it somehow fell from the top shelf as I opened the door and landed on a cookie sheet with a projecting edge. Said pot was in a ridiculous plastic sheath/cover, and somehow the small amount (1/2" of 10") exposed glass fell onto the edge and pieces of borosilicate glass managed to find their way under the stove, and even some small glass in the oven dried raisins that were on the cookie sheet. And have I remarked on how the perps are fixated on grapes, raisins, wine and all manifestations of Vitus vinifera (grapes)? Even to the point of having me work in a vineyard for crissakes, then winemaking. And how is it that my perp-abetting mother could arrange the coffee pot to be leaned against the cupboard door after closing it, when she cannot reach that high in the first place, never mind the high art of booby-trapping the coffee pot?
12-05-2013
I was at Basia Bulat concert last night; lots of pacing by the black dressed staff, particularly the Fat Man. he must of done at least 20, if not 30, repeat pacings such that he would come withing 15' of me and then turn around. He was in a staff-only area, with some of the best seats in the house bounded from public use. All to have me look through two sets of railings, on one side of this pillar that was an excellent view blocker. On the other side, a single set of railings, with another person managing to move their head just ahead of me to obstruct my sightline.
The table next to me was in high rotation; mid-show departures all to be re-stocked with new gangstalkers who duly followed the prescribed choreography. Other tables also emptied before the end of the show and I finally got to see the performer directly and not through railings. I am not 100% sure the performer saw me from 40' away, standing on a lit stage, but she did through an extended look in my direction. I have had the odd staring from a stage performer in the long past and I often wondered how they came to single me out.
The opeing of the night club was an exercise in being fucked with; the show ticket stated it starts at 2000h, and I got there at 1930h to get a seat. Somehow I managed to find an open side door and ended up in the club when no one was there. I asked someone, and they said the doors open at 2000h, then an one hour wait for the first billed performer, then Basia and band doing one set, an hour total. I suppose that is houw goes in the big city.
A mostly white colored food services tractor trailer was arranged to arrive in mid-street at 1940h while I was killing time in the nearby cofffee shop, another gangstalk scene where I had to allow some strange individual past me, like being at the cinema. The food service truck was parked in mid street, blocking at least 8 vehicles on the street, for which no owners/drivers needed for the 30 minutes it was parked there. The supposed delivery was then unloaded so the tailgate deliveries were onto the crosswalk that I used to later line up at the nightclub. By the time that I lined up and into the club, it was 30 minutes and this strange evening time food delivery was still in progress.
As I haven't been in a real nightclub for at least two decades, it was quite the experience; these red and green laser lights being shot onto a 3' mirrored ball made for some extra special shadows and lighting games. Too, a mandatory coat check was new to me, as well as a male washroom attendant who supplied soap to all hands, who likely enforced hand washing.
Light now came down for duration of the day, though nothing stayed and it served to mute colors and darken the sky for a shopping with my perp abetting FFF mother. It was at a big box store which she rarely goes to, and lo, if all the culls and fat ones of Lnagford didn't surface somewhere. These two unshaven 50-ish males, one in camo, took the cake for the Extra Obvious Gangstalk Act (EOAGA) of the day. They arrived together and right behind me and got into a blather session at the shellfish section, following my mother's dithering games to create proximate lingering when she wasn't looking for shellfish anyways. A good 8 minutes later, said shiftless males were still there. And might of they been fishermen (dressed and looked like it) doing some kind of extended loitering test over the distance dependent vibe (energetics) of shellfish? Or were they the Loyal Organized Psychopathic Scum-inals (LOAPS, and they often put on a loping gait) I so dislike to see? It really doesn't matter when it comes to the Unfavored Fuckwits, all of who should be dispensed with. One cute blonde babe was outside on a 2x reprise, as in faux waiting, and after that it was near full-on Unfavoreds inside; shiftless males, dithering biddies, very large Fat Girls, and a few brown-stalkers, either brown skinned or brown coated or both. My mother was dressed in two-tone brown for crissakes, so it is a no-brainer that they want to replicate my brown loathing at the First Feral Family household with the gangstalking Fuckwits elsewhere. And have I not said it umpteen times; if I don't like the color brown (and others), male vagrants and the rest of the scruffy-Fuckwits, why is it an 11.5 year long run of insane abuse in two countries at the hands of those who had followed and prescribed my every move for the prior 47 years? Just go fuck yourselves.
12-06-2013
There are plenty of cookies and biscuits on hand to stuff me with brown colored food at all hours. So far, (1300h), a shut-in day, getting up late to then have my mother use the vehicle.
And I see that the Wish List function of one of my very favorite tools and gadget suppliers has disappeared. Unlike Amazon, the wish list box is to pop up when an item is added to the cart, and lo, if it isn't there. First make it user-interface adverse, then withdraw the item anyhow, having searched for it. Kind of like running the gauntlet for yet more abuse at the end of it. Nothing new in that concept being applied to me more than most. Said tool store was physically visited in the absolutely insane abusive harassment days of 2002, and lo, if there wasn't a near overflow of gangstalkers there, the busiest I have seen the store, as I had visited it a number of times previously. And too, I was purchasing magnets, a sure fire way to stop the debilitating head pain beams they were firing at me. Magnets are are always a big defence method, provided they don't de-gauss them, which is what they later did, rendering them ineffective. If you can create a random generating method for EMF on your person you might have a hope of avoiding takeover and this fucking abuse. So far, I don't think anyone has succeeded as the perps can also remotely defeat electronics and physical objects in my experience.
Gratuitous mentions from my perp-abetting mother abound, getting slightly more bat-shit wacko than the last time I was here at the FFF, about a year ago. As an example, she starts telling me about the front door keys, and leaving the light on for my evening time return from above concert. None of which has any bearing as I would be driving into the garage with her vehicle, using the garage door opener in the vehicle and accessing the side house door for which I would have a key on the vehicle key set anyhow. No question the perps like to lay on logically incongruous statements and have me process them, and then discard them as irrelevant. Information acceptance or rejection (and auto-rejection from long discredited sources) is also a meta-theme for the perps, not just the content. Doddering dipshits and like brethren have no end of play in the Unfavored-sphere. And the Gangsstalking Capital of Canada has more than its fair share.
12-08-2013
I was kept busy all morning driving all over town with my abetting mother yesterday. To Walmart no less, where it turned out that she didn't want anything but a 2L carton of milk for crissakes. All those ambulatory Fuckwits doing the clusterfuck choreography, and one even pretending not to notice that he was walking beside my mother, coat arm to coat arm in the same direction but looking opposite directions, pretending that they didn't know. Once I saw this bullshit I said out loud, "you two know each other, and yet they remained in this faux formation for at least five more seconds.
I got the skunk at one store, my perp-abetting mother staying in the vehicle while this envisioned item, a plastic scraper for wine tanks, was found to be not available. A similar stunt some two years ago was done in the same way; I was looking for a safety item, knee pads, and there was nothing availible at this safety supply store only two blocks from today's skunk. (A "skunk", same as in fishing, is when one goes to a store for an expectable item and it is unavailble (for reasons of low stock, recent sell off, or never had the item in the first place).
It is the season for concerts it seems; at the Allison Crowe concert and young woman two pews ahead with coiffed hair (blonde on top, black underneath) must of scratched her head and lifted her hair at least 30x, not to mention leaning on her mother's shoulder for at least 20 min.of the hour long show. Like WTF; who but some Pschopathic Operative would appear so ridiculous in public. She didn't seem any bit deranged or mentally deficient, and yet this protracted hair pawing and head leaning exercise. The woman directly in front of me did a pointless stand-up for 5 min. of the 15 min. break. As the concert was in a church, with stain glass windows, it make for extra lighting fuckery. Not only flickering the lights inside, but also turning on the lights outside in the parking lot.
Another oddity at the Allison Crowe concert; she is very bubbly and talkative between songs, and at one point she was admonishing herself for "umms" and "ahhs" while speaking. Then she spoke some more, using umms and ahhs, and then said "I feel like I am in a loop (as in a repeating (self looping) tape). Then she said something most odd, "I'm not supposed to say that". Some of the audience laughed, but like WTF; why would she say something like that unless rehearsed in advance?
And to no surprise, I was had the row behind me empty of anyone, when it was a full house. Past concerts at larger venues with row seating have had the row in front empty while the seats were in demand.
Only one pacing male at his concert, apparently a sound man, and some dozen times unlike the above mentioned Basia Bulat concert/club visit.
12-09-2013
A Sunday, and more keeping me busy, my farm worker colleague and her ex-husband somehow got their calamities together and were 30 min. late for an 0830h breakfast. Though to be fair, they phoned ahead and the restaurant staff were informed and helpful as to their tardiness. And for my part, the perps had me "forget" to switch my phone from silent mode to ring mode after last night's concert, making me unavailable. And what is fucking point of that? Sure, they needed to have me sit/wait by myself and drink four cups of coffee, thereby getting browned, aka, brown resonant or whatever the perps do with their color games. And lo, if I didn't get a huge bowl of brown porridge when the food order finally came. No, it wasn't listed as such on the menu, but somehow I keep blundering into things and foods I don't normally eat.
And what is it about online orders, the perps having me initiate three so far, and picking them all up at the reespective stores in town.
Later, raking brown colored leaves in the backyard of the FFF house for a few hours. Time to get this posted for the week, less it run on for another.
That would be where I am, Victoria, British Columbia, having flown here yesterday for visiting the First Feral Family, the quisling sick asses that abet the perps at every moment, as/when needed. Or, as it seems, perhaps the Clusterfuck Capital of Canada, the arranged confluences of ambulatory gangstalkers who cluster around me to keep me in place for a few extra seconds. Ditto with vehicles.
And what a mighty gangstalking it was at this moment, 1600h or so, dusk time. This is when the perps go particularly nuts with showing me red and yellow colors, both of which are very Unfavored. Not to mention the "stand arounds", mostly biddies and adult males, also both Unfavored. And of course they put on the blonde babe with doe eyes to get my attention (3x in the store), and they immediately switch me to a skinheaded male (2x Unfavored) passing nearby. Then these weirds which stalked me at the small specialty grocery store then "show up" at my next stop, the ever cooperating LD store (a chain of them). That was enough to send me out of there, but of course I got held up by the prior customer at the checkout, and just when I wanted to exit, why, a swarm of three were doing their hindering thing at the door. Only the blonde babe (different one) matched my walking speed. Then the walk-directly-at-me stunt, without benefit of manners of any kind, let alone eye contact. Like WTF; who in hell walks in a busy public area without checking out where they are going?
The waxing urge came on too, having got it done earlier this afternoon. I won't say where, but for the first time, the clinician was in her vegetable garden and had a bunch of chives in her hand when leading me into her suburban basement studio. That and her black and white houndstooth patterned coat to her mid-calf. Not exactly gardening garb.
And a whole lot of eating brown colored cookies too, another "urge" that came on, largely because they were abundant at this First Feral Family house.
No chocolate allowed at the LD store visitation; the shopping baskets weren't to be found, and that made it problematic to carry the items to the cashier. Therefore, only shaving foam and for some strange reason, scar abatement product. I don't have any scars to treat, so what is this about? And if you follow the perp habits, they like me to buy items months, if not a year or more in advance of needing it. My sleeping matress in Penticton was purchased a year in advance of sleeping on it, as the former four residences all supplied a bed. (Two were winter time rate motels, and two were supplied by the landladies). Same for the cot; given to me by the farmer colleague, and unused until 06-2013). I have a pair of steel toed work boots since 2008, that I "needed" for upcoming construction work that never materialized, and they remain unworn still.
Back to the above mentioned LD gangstalk scene. Recall that the perps skunked me earlier this week at the LD store in Penticton with five gangstalkers and a stocking/stalking cart (replete with brown boxes), that now ubiquitous prop in almost every store. And in true LD store staffing style, one checkout open when there are eight of them, and all to confine me to the obstructing line up and have the customer behind me nearly up my asshole.
And arranged breakage of a French press style coffee pot at the FFF house; it somehow fell from the top shelf as I opened the door and landed on a cookie sheet with a projecting edge. Said pot was in a ridiculous plastic sheath/cover, and somehow the small amount (1/2" of 10") exposed glass fell onto the edge and pieces of borosilicate glass managed to find their way under the stove, and even some small glass in the oven dried raisins that were on the cookie sheet. And have I remarked on how the perps are fixated on grapes, raisins, wine and all manifestations of Vitus vinifera (grapes)? Even to the point of having me work in a vineyard for crissakes, then winemaking. And how is it that my perp-abetting mother could arrange the coffee pot to be leaned against the cupboard door after closing it, when she cannot reach that high in the first place, never mind the high art of booby-trapping the coffee pot?
12-05-2013
I was at Basia Bulat concert last night; lots of pacing by the black dressed staff, particularly the Fat Man. he must of done at least 20, if not 30, repeat pacings such that he would come withing 15' of me and then turn around. He was in a staff-only area, with some of the best seats in the house bounded from public use. All to have me look through two sets of railings, on one side of this pillar that was an excellent view blocker. On the other side, a single set of railings, with another person managing to move their head just ahead of me to obstruct my sightline.
The table next to me was in high rotation; mid-show departures all to be re-stocked with new gangstalkers who duly followed the prescribed choreography. Other tables also emptied before the end of the show and I finally got to see the performer directly and not through railings. I am not 100% sure the performer saw me from 40' away, standing on a lit stage, but she did through an extended look in my direction. I have had the odd staring from a stage performer in the long past and I often wondered how they came to single me out.
The opeing of the night club was an exercise in being fucked with; the show ticket stated it starts at 2000h, and I got there at 1930h to get a seat. Somehow I managed to find an open side door and ended up in the club when no one was there. I asked someone, and they said the doors open at 2000h, then an one hour wait for the first billed performer, then Basia and band doing one set, an hour total. I suppose that is houw goes in the big city.
A mostly white colored food services tractor trailer was arranged to arrive in mid-street at 1940h while I was killing time in the nearby cofffee shop, another gangstalk scene where I had to allow some strange individual past me, like being at the cinema. The food service truck was parked in mid street, blocking at least 8 vehicles on the street, for which no owners/drivers needed for the 30 minutes it was parked there. The supposed delivery was then unloaded so the tailgate deliveries were onto the crosswalk that I used to later line up at the nightclub. By the time that I lined up and into the club, it was 30 minutes and this strange evening time food delivery was still in progress.
As I haven't been in a real nightclub for at least two decades, it was quite the experience; these red and green laser lights being shot onto a 3' mirrored ball made for some extra special shadows and lighting games. Too, a mandatory coat check was new to me, as well as a male washroom attendant who supplied soap to all hands, who likely enforced hand washing.
Light now came down for duration of the day, though nothing stayed and it served to mute colors and darken the sky for a shopping with my perp abetting FFF mother. It was at a big box store which she rarely goes to, and lo, if all the culls and fat ones of Lnagford didn't surface somewhere. These two unshaven 50-ish males, one in camo, took the cake for the Extra Obvious Gangstalk Act (EOAGA) of the day. They arrived together and right behind me and got into a blather session at the shellfish section, following my mother's dithering games to create proximate lingering when she wasn't looking for shellfish anyways. A good 8 minutes later, said shiftless males were still there. And might of they been fishermen (dressed and looked like it) doing some kind of extended loitering test over the distance dependent vibe (energetics) of shellfish? Or were they the Loyal Organized Psychopathic Scum-inals (LOAPS, and they often put on a loping gait) I so dislike to see? It really doesn't matter when it comes to the Unfavored Fuckwits, all of who should be dispensed with. One cute blonde babe was outside on a 2x reprise, as in faux waiting, and after that it was near full-on Unfavoreds inside; shiftless males, dithering biddies, very large Fat Girls, and a few brown-stalkers, either brown skinned or brown coated or both. My mother was dressed in two-tone brown for crissakes, so it is a no-brainer that they want to replicate my brown loathing at the First Feral Family household with the gangstalking Fuckwits elsewhere. And have I not said it umpteen times; if I don't like the color brown (and others), male vagrants and the rest of the scruffy-Fuckwits, why is it an 11.5 year long run of insane abuse in two countries at the hands of those who had followed and prescribed my every move for the prior 47 years? Just go fuck yourselves.
12-06-2013
There are plenty of cookies and biscuits on hand to stuff me with brown colored food at all hours. So far, (1300h), a shut-in day, getting up late to then have my mother use the vehicle.
And I see that the Wish List function of one of my very favorite tools and gadget suppliers has disappeared. Unlike Amazon, the wish list box is to pop up when an item is added to the cart, and lo, if it isn't there. First make it user-interface adverse, then withdraw the item anyhow, having searched for it. Kind of like running the gauntlet for yet more abuse at the end of it. Nothing new in that concept being applied to me more than most. Said tool store was physically visited in the absolutely insane abusive harassment days of 2002, and lo, if there wasn't a near overflow of gangstalkers there, the busiest I have seen the store, as I had visited it a number of times previously. And too, I was purchasing magnets, a sure fire way to stop the debilitating head pain beams they were firing at me. Magnets are are always a big defence method, provided they don't de-gauss them, which is what they later did, rendering them ineffective. If you can create a random generating method for EMF on your person you might have a hope of avoiding takeover and this fucking abuse. So far, I don't think anyone has succeeded as the perps can also remotely defeat electronics and physical objects in my experience.
Gratuitous mentions from my perp-abetting mother abound, getting slightly more bat-shit wacko than the last time I was here at the FFF, about a year ago. As an example, she starts telling me about the front door keys, and leaving the light on for my evening time return from above concert. None of which has any bearing as I would be driving into the garage with her vehicle, using the garage door opener in the vehicle and accessing the side house door for which I would have a key on the vehicle key set anyhow. No question the perps like to lay on logically incongruous statements and have me process them, and then discard them as irrelevant. Information acceptance or rejection (and auto-rejection from long discredited sources) is also a meta-theme for the perps, not just the content. Doddering dipshits and like brethren have no end of play in the Unfavored-sphere. And the Gangsstalking Capital of Canada has more than its fair share.
12-08-2013
I was kept busy all morning driving all over town with my abetting mother yesterday. To Walmart no less, where it turned out that she didn't want anything but a 2L carton of milk for crissakes. All those ambulatory Fuckwits doing the clusterfuck choreography, and one even pretending not to notice that he was walking beside my mother, coat arm to coat arm in the same direction but looking opposite directions, pretending that they didn't know. Once I saw this bullshit I said out loud, "you two know each other, and yet they remained in this faux formation for at least five more seconds.
I got the skunk at one store, my perp-abetting mother staying in the vehicle while this envisioned item, a plastic scraper for wine tanks, was found to be not available. A similar stunt some two years ago was done in the same way; I was looking for a safety item, knee pads, and there was nothing availible at this safety supply store only two blocks from today's skunk. (A "skunk", same as in fishing, is when one goes to a store for an expectable item and it is unavailble (for reasons of low stock, recent sell off, or never had the item in the first place).
It is the season for concerts it seems; at the Allison Crowe concert and young woman two pews ahead with coiffed hair (blonde on top, black underneath) must of scratched her head and lifted her hair at least 30x, not to mention leaning on her mother's shoulder for at least 20 min.of the hour long show. Like WTF; who but some Pschopathic Operative would appear so ridiculous in public. She didn't seem any bit deranged or mentally deficient, and yet this protracted hair pawing and head leaning exercise. The woman directly in front of me did a pointless stand-up for 5 min. of the 15 min. break. As the concert was in a church, with stain glass windows, it make for extra lighting fuckery. Not only flickering the lights inside, but also turning on the lights outside in the parking lot.
Another oddity at the Allison Crowe concert; she is very bubbly and talkative between songs, and at one point she was admonishing herself for "umms" and "ahhs" while speaking. Then she spoke some more, using umms and ahhs, and then said "I feel like I am in a loop (as in a repeating (self looping) tape). Then she said something most odd, "I'm not supposed to say that". Some of the audience laughed, but like WTF; why would she say something like that unless rehearsed in advance?
And to no surprise, I was had the row behind me empty of anyone, when it was a full house. Past concerts at larger venues with row seating have had the row in front empty while the seats were in demand.
Only one pacing male at his concert, apparently a sound man, and some dozen times unlike the above mentioned Basia Bulat concert/club visit.
12-09-2013
A Sunday, and more keeping me busy, my farm worker colleague and her ex-husband somehow got their calamities together and were 30 min. late for an 0830h breakfast. Though to be fair, they phoned ahead and the restaurant staff were informed and helpful as to their tardiness. And for my part, the perps had me "forget" to switch my phone from silent mode to ring mode after last night's concert, making me unavailable. And what is fucking point of that? Sure, they needed to have me sit/wait by myself and drink four cups of coffee, thereby getting browned, aka, brown resonant or whatever the perps do with their color games. And lo, if I didn't get a huge bowl of brown porridge when the food order finally came. No, it wasn't listed as such on the menu, but somehow I keep blundering into things and foods I don't normally eat.
And what is it about online orders, the perps having me initiate three so far, and picking them all up at the reespective stores in town.
Later, raking brown colored leaves in the backyard of the FFF house for a few hours. Time to get this posted for the week, less it run on for another.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Browser Hacking
02-03-2013
Temple pressure, both sides, always relievable for a few minutes if I rub my head. Then a malware attack that got through my antivirus software. The browser got redirected to another along with a tab bar l cannot get deleted. Then a round with "ransom-ware", a malware detection download that finds the malware but then wants $50 to get rid of it. Manual deletion worked.
The recovery (re-ripping)of 38 CD's of music, metadata augmentation, attendant file moving and a new backup has cost me the whole weekend.
02-04-2013
Wine making work; the plans for a blended rose got dashed, the owner didn't like the combinations that represented his wines on hand. Rose wines are tricky in that the ratio of white wines to red limits one's options as to blending. To be fair, the owner is moving ahead with getting apple juice ordered, and another fermentation vessel, along with a pump and filter.
The darling pixie yoga instructor was back after having a two week holiday somewhere warm with her family. And tight shorts and a cleavage revealing top didn't hurt, even if the latter was in red. Another red shirted male hanger-around posted near my room at this motel after I walked back from the class.
The big blonde yoga instructor "happened" to be hanging around at the entrance door to yoga, in her long coat and with her son. Doing a family gangstalk I suppose, in streetwear too. And for the last three weeks the perps have pumped me every day as to her real identity, and of course I don't know, nor care. But having family does make it highly unlikely she is who the perps make her out to be, initials ML will suffice for now.
A mighty browning-around event this morning; a B-train, a tractor trailer with a pup trailer behind it had one of those trailers that have fabric sides, and lo, if they weren't all brown, the first trailer and the towed pup behind it in identical dark brown. It has to be the largest brown vehicle they have put together in ten+ years of this abuse and all the browning around they have done to date.
And speaking of which, the co-owner of the vineyard is getting a colonoscopy in a few days. I don't know much about this particular clinical procedure, save that they flush all one's shit out and ensure no remnants in the lower intestine. But as it "so happened", in the months immediately before the perps went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002, both my brother and my hang-around pal Ms. L had colonoscopies within two weeks of each other. Which is a long way of saying that the perp's relentless and abiding interest in excrement just might be served by this particular medical procedure. No doubt I will get it done to me sometime, though the perps have kept this from me all these years. Meanwhile, last year. my brother gets his second one done, as the prerequisite interval had come up.
And while on this grim topic, one of my roomates at the hospital where I was illegally incarcerated in 2003 "happened" to be a patient who had his lower intestine and/or bowel removed and had a bag attached. Why he was kept with me was a mystery at the time, but no more, given the long brown streak (metaphorically) the perps have laid behind me all these years.
And speaking of associated events, the vineyard co-owner told me how to work her new washing and dryer, as it has all these lights and dials on them, far removed from what I would know. And why is she telling me this? Are more shit events planned this summer? I pray not.
An online parts order got totally sabotaged; I made a long and deliberate effort to get them all correct, and then the very parts I needed the most got converted into other parts I didn't need. This is just fucking insane. I would like to say I was screaminglly infuriated over this $100 jerkaround, but it was more like an hoarse whispering of total infuriation as to my order sabotage, so no one would hear through the walls.
02-05-2013
Winemaking work, then taking the owner to the hospital for a colonoscopy as her husband hadn't returned from his outing to obtain and juice apples over two widely dispersed cities. So yes, we are on the brown topic again, though I really didn't want to go there. And with someone new in my passenger seat, in a long brown down coat and travelling to the clinic to get her brown irrigated, it indeed was a mighty perp gangstalking. So much so, they sent someone down the road in the wrong (opposing) lane for 100' in a same colored vehicle as mine and eventually they got onto the correct side of the road, as in RH drive. And the front door of the hospital was good enough for two ambulances and a police vehicle to converge there.
I get back to the vineyard and two vehicles are parked in the driveway in front of the gate. This is a rural area, and one vehicle backs out to give me room to get by. When I get out to attend to the open gate, I approach the camper van and ask if he wants to come in, rather than me closing the gate on him and seen to be rude. "No" he says, "we are just talking". LIKE WTF; two drivers of two vehicles somehow agree to convene at a small vineyard gate after the mightiest brown event of the year so far, and maybe for a few. The other vehicle was a dumbshit-car, a so-called Smart Car that I had seen on the road when driving my boss into town. I went into the house, changed into my gear for pruning, and walked about 2/3 of the way back to the vehicles that were still there. They stayed in place for another 40 minutes or so, and when they got the call, they both departed downhill toward town. Like WTF; why would anyone drive to this obscure place and plant two vehicles blocking the driveway for all this time?
02-06-2013
Various winemaking duties today, the big one was adding 900g of bentonite into water and stirring so no lumps formed. And too, the solution went from turbid to opaque, finishing at a tan brown color. Exciting brown moments again.
And what it the deal with the extra mud-flicked/sprayed vehicles on gangstalking duty now? Another was tailing me with a tow truck for 80% of my way back after tanning tonight, shining yet more light on me as it had very bright HID headlights and was higher up so to spread the headlight beams through the cab of my vehicle rather than them pointed at my trunk. And too, the traffic lights were arranged some 6 in succession for this vehicle to yet again, arrive behind me while I was waiting at the red traffic control light.
02-07-2013
The brown B-train semi-trailer and pup again, though at least 20 min. earlier this morning than two days ago. I did a fair amount of outside work, cleaning snow in two areas in preparation for the arrival of the apple juice. The 5,000 liters of apple juice was to arrive late today, but for some reason was delayed.
When I get back to my motel suite, I see the city has arranged an excavator nearby, sitting on top of a 4' high mound in a small park. And I see one of the perp's favorite trademarks on the sidewalk, painted lines as if a digging job is planned soon. In the past ten years of this abuse they have dug many places around where I lived, or on the way in my travels, but there were plenty of sidewalk painted lines they did not dig up and arranged to fade out over the course of two years or so.
And I find that some of the electrical circuits not working in my suite; the fridge and stove, each on different voltages. I ended up making a chicken salad instead of quesadilla, the stove was found to be not working after putting a pan and coconut oil in it. The same oil was poured into my salad - an exceptional dinner whereby the frypan/metal energy and transferred into a blue plastic bowl to mix salad. My kettle is a stove top model, but I found a plug-in kettle, with the only findable outlet right at my feet as I type this.
02-08-2013
A new shaving razor insert today, usually replaced on Fridays, and with follow-on extra hassle and unwanted attention. Friday is the day my room gets made up; new bedding, towels and some cleaning, which might fuel extra perp antics and stupidity.
A hectic start to wine making this morning, as two 500 liter tanks need to be freed up within a week. Added into this was a futile mission that in hindsight didn't make any sense. But as I get one of this every week or so, futile exercises aren't new.
While doing a wine bench test and pouring wine into a funnel over a graduated cylinder the perps blanked me out twice in succession, causing similar spills onto the bench, floor and me. Then they pulled a third mess/spill while involved in bench testing different concentrations of bitartrate seeding. Never in my life have I watched myself make a mess, being totally disconnected from what I was doing.
Full electrical power back in my suite today; I thought I was done for a weekend long jerk-around. Extra neighbor noise tonight, mostly voice and hacking.
02-09-2013
A Saturday and a mellow one at that, getting laundry done this morning. The perps have an obsession over laundry, but strangely they have left me alone apart from the lounging dudes smoking and hacking outside their suites. It is a $500 charge if guest/tenants smoke in the suites. That should change behavior, but in perp-land everything gets distorted; not only conventional physical events but also human behavior.
The perps started pounding and vibration from an adjacent suite under the guise of renovations when they have all the weekdays of the week to do this. I departed for awhile for a significant vehicular gangstalking coverage as it "happened". It seemed the perps wanted me out of here after purchasing a very dark heather-brown sweater at nearby sports store. And that is significant event as all my brown toned clothes were either separating at the seams in the washing machine or getting green stains on them while hanging in the closet. They purged me of all brown colored clothes in 2003. This would be the very first brown colored clothing I have owned, (and presumably wear) since then.
Much increased human voice noise this evening while reading The Source Field Investigations by David Wilcock. I would reservedly recommend this book for TI's to get a better appreciation of what the perp methods are, though I find the author is over-eager to connect some findings to make his case. In the main, it is readable and likely represents the physics that the perps apply to their victims; e.g. teleportations, modification of physical objects and surfaces and control of all materiality. The author connects many of the "dots" of solid-but-get-no-respect science; Kozyrev, Larson, Expanding Earth theory, Grebnikov and many others that were new to me.
02-10-2013
Sunday, and a mellow start at first. Then I went to get the car cleaned at 1130h, and lo, if there wasn't a huge back up of waiting vehicles, so screw that. This is the second day in succession where huge back up at this same car wash was arranged (IMHO). Onto the LD store where the Sunday freaks were out in force, not to mention the shiftless males loitering near the few locations I needed to go. And an aisle blocking cluster fuck of five women talking in a group in the center of a main aisle. A strange combination of young light skinned Middle East persons and a Caucasian granny among two others I don't recall. The Middle Eastern women came by again on a gangstalking reprise at the back of the store a minute or so later. Just as I was approaching an aisle end, why one came out and turned L, and her sister (it seemed) came out behind her and turned R toward me. Fucking bizarre, but not too different than the vehicular choreography that goes on.
And three separate dipshits while driving failed to proceed at a green light until 10 seconds later, and another waited at an intersection as I was approaching to my R and I thought he was stopped at the stop sign to allow me to pass, but no, at the last second he decides to turn his monster pickup, the identical color grey to my vehicle, in front of me and I was obliged to brake to let the fucker get by. In other words, deliberate incursion to slow me up, and occupy that revered space that I was to drive over with minimal time in between the Fuckwit and me passing over the identical location. Exciting moments in this Perp-town.
And the perps pulled another blocked toilet stunt, the first in two weeks or so. All to direct me to piss in the bathtub until the toilet has had sufficient working time with Liquid Plumber. Most of the new toilet designs nowadays, (or at least the ones arranged for me), are not circular and so do not work with a plunger.
Masers now follow me all over my suite; these blackish blobs that float into my vision, or more now, persist in the same location I am looking at to interfere with my concentration. Even looking at familiar objects or locations isn't allowed any more.
Month end (January 3013) accounting turned out to me a major pain in the ass. And it doesn't help that the totals or numbers change each time I look at a new window. Another missing $20 from cash again, which is why I hardly ever use it any more. Last year $1600 went missing, and I am a fanatic about keeping financial records.
Enough from Victim Central and onto posting this. Please let me know if this blog is worthwhile reading as I may have less time if I pick up a weekend pruning job for the next two months.
Temple pressure, both sides, always relievable for a few minutes if I rub my head. Then a malware attack that got through my antivirus software. The browser got redirected to another along with a tab bar l cannot get deleted. Then a round with "ransom-ware", a malware detection download that finds the malware but then wants $50 to get rid of it. Manual deletion worked.
The recovery (re-ripping)of 38 CD's of music, metadata augmentation, attendant file moving and a new backup has cost me the whole weekend.
02-04-2013
Wine making work; the plans for a blended rose got dashed, the owner didn't like the combinations that represented his wines on hand. Rose wines are tricky in that the ratio of white wines to red limits one's options as to blending. To be fair, the owner is moving ahead with getting apple juice ordered, and another fermentation vessel, along with a pump and filter.
The darling pixie yoga instructor was back after having a two week holiday somewhere warm with her family. And tight shorts and a cleavage revealing top didn't hurt, even if the latter was in red. Another red shirted male hanger-around posted near my room at this motel after I walked back from the class.
The big blonde yoga instructor "happened" to be hanging around at the entrance door to yoga, in her long coat and with her son. Doing a family gangstalk I suppose, in streetwear too. And for the last three weeks the perps have pumped me every day as to her real identity, and of course I don't know, nor care. But having family does make it highly unlikely she is who the perps make her out to be, initials ML will suffice for now.
A mighty browning-around event this morning; a B-train, a tractor trailer with a pup trailer behind it had one of those trailers that have fabric sides, and lo, if they weren't all brown, the first trailer and the towed pup behind it in identical dark brown. It has to be the largest brown vehicle they have put together in ten+ years of this abuse and all the browning around they have done to date.
And speaking of which, the co-owner of the vineyard is getting a colonoscopy in a few days. I don't know much about this particular clinical procedure, save that they flush all one's shit out and ensure no remnants in the lower intestine. But as it "so happened", in the months immediately before the perps went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002, both my brother and my hang-around pal Ms. L had colonoscopies within two weeks of each other. Which is a long way of saying that the perp's relentless and abiding interest in excrement just might be served by this particular medical procedure. No doubt I will get it done to me sometime, though the perps have kept this from me all these years. Meanwhile, last year. my brother gets his second one done, as the prerequisite interval had come up.
And while on this grim topic, one of my roomates at the hospital where I was illegally incarcerated in 2003 "happened" to be a patient who had his lower intestine and/or bowel removed and had a bag attached. Why he was kept with me was a mystery at the time, but no more, given the long brown streak (metaphorically) the perps have laid behind me all these years.
And speaking of associated events, the vineyard co-owner told me how to work her new washing and dryer, as it has all these lights and dials on them, far removed from what I would know. And why is she telling me this? Are more shit events planned this summer? I pray not.
An online parts order got totally sabotaged; I made a long and deliberate effort to get them all correct, and then the very parts I needed the most got converted into other parts I didn't need. This is just fucking insane. I would like to say I was screaminglly infuriated over this $100 jerkaround, but it was more like an hoarse whispering of total infuriation as to my order sabotage, so no one would hear through the walls.
02-05-2013
Winemaking work, then taking the owner to the hospital for a colonoscopy as her husband hadn't returned from his outing to obtain and juice apples over two widely dispersed cities. So yes, we are on the brown topic again, though I really didn't want to go there. And with someone new in my passenger seat, in a long brown down coat and travelling to the clinic to get her brown irrigated, it indeed was a mighty perp gangstalking. So much so, they sent someone down the road in the wrong (opposing) lane for 100' in a same colored vehicle as mine and eventually they got onto the correct side of the road, as in RH drive. And the front door of the hospital was good enough for two ambulances and a police vehicle to converge there.
I get back to the vineyard and two vehicles are parked in the driveway in front of the gate. This is a rural area, and one vehicle backs out to give me room to get by. When I get out to attend to the open gate, I approach the camper van and ask if he wants to come in, rather than me closing the gate on him and seen to be rude. "No" he says, "we are just talking". LIKE WTF; two drivers of two vehicles somehow agree to convene at a small vineyard gate after the mightiest brown event of the year so far, and maybe for a few. The other vehicle was a dumbshit-car, a so-called Smart Car that I had seen on the road when driving my boss into town. I went into the house, changed into my gear for pruning, and walked about 2/3 of the way back to the vehicles that were still there. They stayed in place for another 40 minutes or so, and when they got the call, they both departed downhill toward town. Like WTF; why would anyone drive to this obscure place and plant two vehicles blocking the driveway for all this time?
02-06-2013
Various winemaking duties today, the big one was adding 900g of bentonite into water and stirring so no lumps formed. And too, the solution went from turbid to opaque, finishing at a tan brown color. Exciting brown moments again.
And what it the deal with the extra mud-flicked/sprayed vehicles on gangstalking duty now? Another was tailing me with a tow truck for 80% of my way back after tanning tonight, shining yet more light on me as it had very bright HID headlights and was higher up so to spread the headlight beams through the cab of my vehicle rather than them pointed at my trunk. And too, the traffic lights were arranged some 6 in succession for this vehicle to yet again, arrive behind me while I was waiting at the red traffic control light.
02-07-2013
The brown B-train semi-trailer and pup again, though at least 20 min. earlier this morning than two days ago. I did a fair amount of outside work, cleaning snow in two areas in preparation for the arrival of the apple juice. The 5,000 liters of apple juice was to arrive late today, but for some reason was delayed.
When I get back to my motel suite, I see the city has arranged an excavator nearby, sitting on top of a 4' high mound in a small park. And I see one of the perp's favorite trademarks on the sidewalk, painted lines as if a digging job is planned soon. In the past ten years of this abuse they have dug many places around where I lived, or on the way in my travels, but there were plenty of sidewalk painted lines they did not dig up and arranged to fade out over the course of two years or so.
And I find that some of the electrical circuits not working in my suite; the fridge and stove, each on different voltages. I ended up making a chicken salad instead of quesadilla, the stove was found to be not working after putting a pan and coconut oil in it. The same oil was poured into my salad - an exceptional dinner whereby the frypan/metal energy and transferred into a blue plastic bowl to mix salad. My kettle is a stove top model, but I found a plug-in kettle, with the only findable outlet right at my feet as I type this.
02-08-2013
A new shaving razor insert today, usually replaced on Fridays, and with follow-on extra hassle and unwanted attention. Friday is the day my room gets made up; new bedding, towels and some cleaning, which might fuel extra perp antics and stupidity.
A hectic start to wine making this morning, as two 500 liter tanks need to be freed up within a week. Added into this was a futile mission that in hindsight didn't make any sense. But as I get one of this every week or so, futile exercises aren't new.
While doing a wine bench test and pouring wine into a funnel over a graduated cylinder the perps blanked me out twice in succession, causing similar spills onto the bench, floor and me. Then they pulled a third mess/spill while involved in bench testing different concentrations of bitartrate seeding. Never in my life have I watched myself make a mess, being totally disconnected from what I was doing.
Full electrical power back in my suite today; I thought I was done for a weekend long jerk-around. Extra neighbor noise tonight, mostly voice and hacking.
02-09-2013
A Saturday and a mellow one at that, getting laundry done this morning. The perps have an obsession over laundry, but strangely they have left me alone apart from the lounging dudes smoking and hacking outside their suites. It is a $500 charge if guest/tenants smoke in the suites. That should change behavior, but in perp-land everything gets distorted; not only conventional physical events but also human behavior.
The perps started pounding and vibration from an adjacent suite under the guise of renovations when they have all the weekdays of the week to do this. I departed for awhile for a significant vehicular gangstalking coverage as it "happened". It seemed the perps wanted me out of here after purchasing a very dark heather-brown sweater at nearby sports store. And that is significant event as all my brown toned clothes were either separating at the seams in the washing machine or getting green stains on them while hanging in the closet. They purged me of all brown colored clothes in 2003. This would be the very first brown colored clothing I have owned, (and presumably wear) since then.
Much increased human voice noise this evening while reading The Source Field Investigations by David Wilcock. I would reservedly recommend this book for TI's to get a better appreciation of what the perp methods are, though I find the author is over-eager to connect some findings to make his case. In the main, it is readable and likely represents the physics that the perps apply to their victims; e.g. teleportations, modification of physical objects and surfaces and control of all materiality. The author connects many of the "dots" of solid-but-get-no-respect science; Kozyrev, Larson, Expanding Earth theory, Grebnikov and many others that were new to me.
02-10-2013
Sunday, and a mellow start at first. Then I went to get the car cleaned at 1130h, and lo, if there wasn't a huge back up of waiting vehicles, so screw that. This is the second day in succession where huge back up at this same car wash was arranged (IMHO). Onto the LD store where the Sunday freaks were out in force, not to mention the shiftless males loitering near the few locations I needed to go. And an aisle blocking cluster fuck of five women talking in a group in the center of a main aisle. A strange combination of young light skinned Middle East persons and a Caucasian granny among two others I don't recall. The Middle Eastern women came by again on a gangstalking reprise at the back of the store a minute or so later. Just as I was approaching an aisle end, why one came out and turned L, and her sister (it seemed) came out behind her and turned R toward me. Fucking bizarre, but not too different than the vehicular choreography that goes on.
And three separate dipshits while driving failed to proceed at a green light until 10 seconds later, and another waited at an intersection as I was approaching to my R and I thought he was stopped at the stop sign to allow me to pass, but no, at the last second he decides to turn his monster pickup, the identical color grey to my vehicle, in front of me and I was obliged to brake to let the fucker get by. In other words, deliberate incursion to slow me up, and occupy that revered space that I was to drive over with minimal time in between the Fuckwit and me passing over the identical location. Exciting moments in this Perp-town.
And the perps pulled another blocked toilet stunt, the first in two weeks or so. All to direct me to piss in the bathtub until the toilet has had sufficient working time with Liquid Plumber. Most of the new toilet designs nowadays, (or at least the ones arranged for me), are not circular and so do not work with a plunger.
Masers now follow me all over my suite; these blackish blobs that float into my vision, or more now, persist in the same location I am looking at to interfere with my concentration. Even looking at familiar objects or locations isn't allowed any more.
Month end (January 3013) accounting turned out to me a major pain in the ass. And it doesn't help that the totals or numbers change each time I look at a new window. Another missing $20 from cash again, which is why I hardly ever use it any more. Last year $1600 went missing, and I am a fanatic about keeping financial records.
Enough from Victim Central and onto posting this. Please let me know if this blog is worthwhile reading as I may have less time if I pick up a weekend pruning job for the next two months.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Flight Time
06-16-2012
I fly out later today, so this is just to fill the time until I am ready to go.
A yoga class, and a Saturday one to avoid the Sunday one with the heavy breathing fat male who likes to get close. And lo, if they didn't put on a negro male and a blonde girl, with my vineyard work colleage (female, redhead), behind them. Said negro saw fit to remove his shirt for more brown exposure it would seem, and thankfully he was mostly hidden by his blonde babe. I don't why the perps are so fascinated with matching blonde Caucasian girls with male negroes, but it is nothing new to me. "Hide the negro" (Unfavored demographic group specimen) has become the operative word, just as "hide the brown vehicle" (Unfavored color) games when driving and surrounded by my gangstalking posse in their arranged formations to obstruct the particular vehicle until it is too close to do so.
And I did get at least three deep brown vehicles, in separate gangstalking vehicle streams when driving from the house to the tanning salon (five minutes). I stopped into this shared house at my room after yoga and the owner had the vaccum cleaner going, and only then did I phone to see if the tanning salon was availble, which it was. When I asked if the lie-down bed was avaiible soon, she said "1:30" when it was 11:30. I said something like "sooner than 1:30" and she said "I meant 11:30". Like WTF; I get all these over-obvious mistakes too often, and getting screwed around like this is plain fucking disturbed. And of course they screwed my out of having my watch on to immediately check the time, all in keeping with the perp's obsession over all details related to this concept as well as the general FUD agenda.
Then onto another perp event they dearly like me to be doing, tanning. This time it was at a salon, and with an extra contingent of vehciles around me, as I have never done a back-to-back yoga and tanning before. There were extra gangstalking vehicles sporting PVC pipe on my way, so who knows what this is about, again, nothing new.
And I am begining to find my Android phone is more useless that I expected. Yes, it takes pics, but how does one get them off? Only yesterday did I have to ask to find out how to access voice mail. By holding down the "1" key I was told at the counter, and was duly informed the adjacent symbol it was the "universal symbol for voice mail". Like WTF; I had cell phones before, and all I had to do was select the Voice Mail menu item, and I got there. But now, one has to decode this obscure symbol on a key that is clearly marked for another purpose. Owing to this undeclared wretched dual modality, if one holds the key for longer, you don't get a "1": but whatever the dumbassed symbol means. And lets be clear; the "universal symbol" is of a reel-to-reel tape deck, as obsolete as it is obscure. So who writes this, never mind the neanderthal-like penchant for obsolete motifs with a current day touch screen interface phone feature?
06-20-2012
Back in the land of the sunny Okanagan after four days in Victoria, British Columbia, the Gangstalking Capital of Canada. Soo... many gangstalking and perp set-up stunt to recount here, even if in summary form. The wheelbarrow tire idiocy continues, Westjet didn't even charge me for the extra box, very kind of them it was. And I got an 3/4" cold rolled length of steel as the new axle, after the culls at Casterland sent me the wrong size and weren't too sympathetic about redressing this screw-up. After plenty of extra attention from the vehicular gangstalking force on the way to the steel supplier, and then a mighty piss after I ordered it at the front counter, and lo, if it wasn't there ready on the counter after filling the toilet, (and flushing of course). Funny the steel wasn't warm from being cut in the saw, but who knows, as the perps seriously diverted me from observing matters with a forced visit to the toilet. I had the old part (5/8" diameter axle), recieved the new replacement 3/4" steel, and OMG, what a might vehicular gangstalking as I drove to downtown Victoria to do other errands. As of mid-April I have a mid-grey Toyota Camry, and lo, if the same mid-grey colored vehicles weren't out in force; adjacent, at intersections etc. I was finally allowed to "get it"; grey gangstalking vehicles, (I was driving my mother's barely metallic tan Ford Escape, brown interior though), and a chunk of grey steel in the vehicle.
Then onto an irrigation supply house to get some new parts for my mother's wretched sprinkler, though of good quality, it was beset by poor fittings. And lo, if they didn't put a negro pseudo-staff member on, almost as black as the ill-lit shop, the mofo coursing around behind me for no reason, asking someone else if they had been helped (how did he know who to ask as he wasn't observing?), then across the counter, and then aiding said customer at a counter section 90 degrees offset in keeping with the perp anisotropic energetic research. I had to wait five min. longer, and finally the store proprietor came by, casual like, distracted too, and I assumed he was drunk or stoned so irregular was his manner. I got helped at the counter by the 300lb Fat Man, another freak-du-jour, though he was friendly at least. And have I mentioned how often the perps hound my ass over water supply, pipe material, sprinkler head types and material, what crops got irrigated with what pipes, and then eating said crops? Many times, and I suppose a visit to the irrigation supply house was way too exciting for the perp sick-asses.
Then back to the First Feral Family house to deal with the wheelbarrow, but I ran out of steam when I couldn't get the U-bolts I was looking for. I settled for redi-rod and will have to bend it at a later date with a borrowed propane or hotter torch. I was reminded I did this wheelbarrow wheel and axle rebuild way back in 1996, when the then wheelbarrow was the only farm "vehicle" for the six acres I owned with the ex. Then it was a new wheel, a new axle of cold rolled steel, and consummating with a visit to the neighbor with a welding shop to heat and bang the purchased U-bolts to a new shape that I couldn't do myself. (Propane torches aren't hot enough to work steel I found out). And said wheelbarrow was the means by which the extensive alpaca poo was removed, and for so many other chores on this infernally prohibitive and demanding property at the time. And I believe I mentioned that I fixed 600' of waterline, putting in 2" PVC instead of steel and this deformed blue plastic line, as well as five connection boxes and many other irrigation upgrades, including 200 new spray heads for the one acre of kiwi fruit. I did all that wheelbarrow rebuild, water supply upgrade (and its use), and countless other agricultural activities that I have since been forced to do yet again since the perps went overt in 04-2002. No...sir, it wasn't enough to lose our shirts on that wretched hobby farm, they had to run me out of an IT job three years later and start me working as a peasant in the strawberry and daffodil fields begining in 2008 when they finally let me work again, for a pittance this time. Now, in 2012, they let me "graduate" to working in a vineyard, which is where I presently work until the harvest is over.
So yes, it would seem this four day visitation to Gangstalking and Nonconsensual Human Experimentation Central, Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, was indeed a significant test event as they have had me out of town since early 01-2012, apart from a post-viticulture course two week visit in April to purchase abovementioned Camry. The perps have a long history of sending me out of town after an educational experience, and it is most curious as to why.
I woke up Sunday morning, and my mother announced the neighborhood deer had somehow eluded the deer fencing I installed the year before (2011) and now ate some of her garden plants, namely tomatoes and runner beans. And that became the emergency I had to deal with for the four days, using the remainder of the 4' wide stucco wire from last year (2011). The 4'x4' garden bed had to be fenced as the beans got moved to it. The 8'x4' bed was done last year in chicken wire. I had the posts, and kept the intact chicken wire rolled up over the winter. I expected to only re-erect the posts, and unravel the chicken wire and tie it up like last year. BUT, the first oddity was that there was a splice in it when it was a continuous section, as chicken wire is hell to deal with once cut. Once the posts were up, the chicken wire was found to be woefully inadequate in length, like 10' missing of 24'. To remind my readers; this roll of chicken wire was 24' long, a single continous length, and fitted the 8'x4' garden bed all the way around. I took it down at the end of last year (fall 2011), stored it as a single roll, and what happened to it over the winter? Why, "someone" severed it in mid-span, cut out 10' and spliced the ends back together. The latter is no mean feat, as a 4' wide roll of chicken wire has very many ends to deal with and bend, twice for a lapped splice. Soo.. the story is, some insane Fuckwit stole 10' of 4' wide chicken wire from a mid-length roll of 24' and spliced it back together again (a 30 minute job by conventional means), all to mess me around so I had to shorten up the fence and re-locate two poles, for which I had already drilled and installed four galvanized 4" lag bolts. And given the number of times the perps have me install, and then remove fasteners (nails, screws, bolts, nuts etc.), one can be sure that this indeed might of been the central objective. As for their rationale, and what it is all about, I have no idea. This Chicken Wire Section Theft and Re-splice Event has to be one of the more obvious and totally insane extra-conventional jerkarounds of the past ten years. But it hasn't gone unnoticed the perps like to arrange wire mesh in my proximity, and by cranking on the suburban deer problem, they got their wish yet again.
And the above deer invasion became the new-emergency, perfectly timed it was to my first morning in Gangstalk Central and re-configuring my activities, errands etc. I had to put the wheebarrow steel axle away, after rubbing it down with grease so it would not rust. And lo, if some three hours later when driving on the above mentioned errand trip, they tailed me with a bulk lubricant semi-trailer tanker for ten minutes or so, in a distinctly residential district. Funny how the petroleum products harassment and stunts continue.
As well, the plant hormone games continue, my mother dutifully acquiring Miracle-Gro again, and leaving it on the kitchen counter, first unopened, and a day later, the box was opened. The active ingredient for said product is 2,4-D, but just a little so not to cause the plant to grow rapidly into indehiscence, which is what the herbicide form does. Funny, Miracle-Gro never puts the active ingredient on the packaging. It would seem that plant hormone manipulation is part of the perp agenda too, based how often this "happens" in this protracted hell that I have been cast into.
An uneventful 45 min. flight back, and plenty of red-dressed passengers on board. A seat row to myself next to the window, and a 45 min. reverie over the beautiful sunlit landscape and overflying some notable natural landmarks (the Lions peaks that overlook Vancouver BC, Garibaldi Park where I once worked for a summer). All to have me "forget" to read my book that I had arranged in the seatback after take-off. No good practice can go undisrupted in perp-land.
Another evening on this four day visit was a dinner with my farmworker colleague, one who makes that I am an interesting person and how she wants to meet up with me. And to be straight, there is no romantic interest on my part, it is she that pursues me, as it is clear she is connected to Fuckwit Central, and the gig was scripted. The waitress was a total blonde doll by comparison, and it is rare the perps let me have that much observation time with a pretty and personable young woman. I suppose this was the protracted plain-woman (colleague) to gorgeous woman (waitress) comparison outing/test, as normally the perps like to arrange fleeting Unfavored-Favored contrasts among the gangstalker encounters.
What followed was a classic perp stunt; the tanning salon I frequented last year was next door to the restaurant and I wanted some of the scentless tanning intensifier (not a colorant or bronzer). And lo, if they weren't out of it, and I cannot get this online anywhere, or where I now live, Penticton, BC. Having me get skunked, as in not finding/acquiring what I was looking for, is a long time perp arrangement, usually in concert with Fuckwit gangstalkers around me. Though this time, it was my erstwhile farm colleague, and post-dinner time too, and extra challenging moment for the perp's remote energetic reading/analysis on me. That a blonde babe was also at the counter to tell me that a shipment was due this week wasn't a coincidence either, borrowing from the waitresses' look.
A family outing the next afternoon and evening (yesterday), following my daughter's graduation from the local community college. Much pictures in the evening under the trees after dinner in a nearby Thai restaurant with family. And per cue, out came the smart phones, and later the iPad, all in keeping with the perp's preoccupation with proximate individuals to be looking at LED screens. I don't know what the perps derive from this activity, but it has been clear from early on, that they just love to have me looking at CRT or LED displays with personnel/family, or even in proximity in the case of gangstalkers. That my classmates in my 2009 Oracle DBA classes would have the same red covered netbook at their desk, passing it on to other classmates, taking turns with the same netbook from class to class. Can we get more fucking obvious than that, netbook/LED display stalking? A related item was the new Samsung Galaxy Note cell phone I had for a few days before I took it back. It had an OLED display on it. Whatever it is that the perps are pumping through the wires and cell phone aerials needs to be tested on me for differing kinds of glass, LED resolutions, LED type and all the other technical parameters like circuit board color, wire color etc.
And now back at the cramped shared house, I was put onto "shit refugee" status within a half hour of getting back. First I was distracted from unpacking my suitcase by the six week overly long delivery of my cellphone accessories that had been just delivered on the doorstep for my arrival. Soo..., I get to unpack a suitcase and briefcase along with sorting out my laundry and then attending to the new cellphone accessories. After changing into new clothes, the forced "need" to take a crap came on, and so off to the mall to use the shitter there after being burned with a sudden onset of blocked toilets at this shared house. (And one at the vineyard owner's house where I work, which was a total blatant sabotage event for the minimal toilet content). And lo, if there wasn't the coursing dudes, one of whom was the cell phone service attendant I encountered last week. Some of the dudes were assigned concurrent craps, but no toilet blocking. The toilet even flushed by itself afterward, twice. And lo, if my Phillipino (read, brown) women gangstalkers that led me to the washrooms weren't there on my exit, loitering in the nearby food mall.
Then a "need" came on to get a stack of 100g bars of chocolate while there at the nearby LD store, and lo, if one stalking/stocking twit wasn't handling deep brown letter boxes across the aisle in front of me on my way to the chocolate. Then a planted notion to get some cash at the nearby ATM and cash the yellow colored check my mother gave me before I departed in compensation for the expenses I incurred in dealing with fencing, irrigation and wheelbarrow tire projects.
And in keeping with the perp's brown imperative, mixed in with the irrigation research imperative, I see that my perp abetting mother purchased 50' of brown garden hose, still coiled. So we are now entering a new phase of perp research, mixing/integrating their brown color games with thier irrigation supply research, and presumably by extension, its downstream color energetic effects on the plants that consume such supplied water, and too, the food consumed therefrom. Sounds like another ten years of insane abusive and deranged nonconsensual human experimentation is planned out.
The Summer Soltice was today, another perp parameter I have come to find, though I have no idea if it was central to above planning/arrangements.
06-21-2012
First evening after yesterday's flight, and I was jerked out of sleeping mostly, awake at 0300h, up at 0400h. The next door roomie artfully times his getting up earlier to match mine so he is showering while I am using the same water supply to clean dishes (concurrent water use). At least the 10th time this has "happened" in three weeks.
On the vineyard job, I took off my shirt, and then sun went behind high cloud 10 min. later and thereafter for the remainder of the day.
06-22-2012
More vineyard work today, but no tanning due to overcast conditons. Lots of deep mid-grey clouds in the distance, and I suppose this was interesting to the perps, given that I now have and use a mid-grey colored vehicle. On the way home they tailed me with a same mid-grey colored pickup truck towing a white aluminum trailer, and in front of me was a new white Volvo S-60. It only took the Volvo designers 10 years to clean up the look of the rear trunk, tailights and bumper design, and I must say it looks halfway decent. The perps go to great lengths to have me see vehicles with attractive design aesthetics, and after the horrid jelly-bean job they did on Volvos in 2000, they finally got it about right. The perps wanted me to know, as it is rare that I personally encounter new vehicles, being so financially strapped. And the perps know I have a fondness for Volvos, being a near-perfect confluence of design integrity, features, quality and durability IMHO. And too, the perps had me owning Volvos for 20 years in the past, so there must be something in it for them. It is also interesting that they ply me with Saabs in the vehicular gangstalking, a Swedish vehicle manufacturer that might get their steel from the same source as Volvo.
Other games that are going on are having me not use my regular mid-grey handled shaving razor while visiting Victoria, per above. I had my hand on the shaving razor to pack it, but "somehow" it didn't get packed, so I used these wretched white handled BIC razors while there. I survived OK, it is just that arms and body shaving never got done, and I have caught up in the last few days, doing one each morning in conjunction with shaving my face.
Another shaving method variation as also been imposed; normally after my shower I shave by applying a hot face cloth to the area and then proceed to shave in discrete sections (e.g. five passes on my face). Two weeks ago, they had me "discover" that I didn't need to use the face cloth to soften the hairs as I was fresh from the shower. So this big "discovery" has meant that I can speed up shaving and not apply the face cloth in advance of each discrete section that has shaving foam applied. Another adjunct to this was that I can take another short (sub-minute) shower to clean up my shaving hairs and foam all over me instead of using the face cloth, again in iterations to recharge it once it has loaded up. And because I must wait for the slow draining sink after shaving, I can take this second shaving-debris cleaning shower before the sink has finished draining. All this must sound like boring triviality, but in fact, the perps have a huge vested interested in absolutely every aspect of shaving and towelling dry, so this is a SIGNIFICANT advent in them changing this long running routine. Do I care? No; just leave me the fuck alone is all I ask, and it isn't going to happen anytime soon if it took them ten years to get this far.
06-23-2012
A visit to the market in downtown Penticton where they block four blocks off for vendors who set up their stalls. The Fuckwit Crush was out, including the step-in-my-way rude shit by assholes who were looking at me from less that 3' away. I was finally allowed to find a salad mix on the return pass, and lo, within a minute, they didn't pull a rain shower to accompany me for the 10 min. walk back. And too, this fucks me up, as I want to clean up my grease spotted raingear outside, and ironically it is raining, same as two weeks ago. The landlady's dude/boyfriend had to come and walk the driveway while I had the bag of salad in hand, just as his landlady girlfriend had to arrive in the kitchen when I was putting it in the fridge. What a bag of salad mix can do in Perpland.
And I see they wiped out two paragraphs that I had entered this morning in this here blog, and I am just too annoyed to replicate it. Besides, the perps manage mood down to full level control, and so it goes, more of what I have written is deleted by THEM.
More order obstruction and blocking. I am attempting to get a sunshade for my vehicle, and lo, if the Billing-Shipping address mapping doesn't put me into Alaska after typing "British Columbia" in the first list. Then it magically corrects itself when requesting shipping options. Then it screwed me out of having my password entered, so once that it is re-entered I resubmit. And lo, if the the application doesn't blow up and spew a page full of errors. I go back one screen to get to my details (now keyed in twice), and lo, if they didn't time me out after one minute of aforementioned adversity. All this was subsequent to "inadvertent" deletion of my order in the first place, having switched from the always-compromised (partial display) Firefox to running IE in Firefox browser window. Which begs the question, why does this keep happening to me? Because there is a total adversity/coincidence control office which oversees every aspect of what I do. I don't know how any reasonable person can come to any other conclusion after this same kind of abusive and obstructing inanity has been going on for ten fucking years.
Later, my first salad from above market shopping trip that I ate here in Penticton gets extra attention. The landlady was on the wireless phone talking all the time while I was eating it. (I was seated between her 10' away, and the reciever, 5' away, in the path of the EMF signals. Post lunch (salad now in me), she starts up the vacuum cleaning. And have I mentioned how often vacuum cleaning stalking erupts around me since the harassment began. At least 5x/year.
A 1.75 hour long forced nap after lunch, salad now digesting, which is way excessive when they screwed me into an extra two hours sleep last night. I suppose I could chalk this up to the post-salad consumption event.
An afternoon shopping trip, and why is it that so many people wander into my path and then don't make any effort to get out of it? I walk around them and lo, if they haven't turned yet again to walk at me, leading me to make extra effort to get out of their way. And they are uniformily trained to be totally blase/emotionless about it too. I have never met so many rude pedestrians since this abuse began.
Enough rants for the day, though further order obstructions did erupt, as it seems to be the day the assholes want me to put online shopping through, now four different orders on the day when I had been backlogged for months on getting on with them. They had me hold off until I moved in early June, and then kept up the sabotage and harassment plus the cell phone dysfunction games to distract me for a further three weeks. And so it goes, one slow weekend day.
06-24-2012
Another weekend day (Sunday), this time getting up at 0600h, which gave me 7 hours of sleep, more like normal. No one else was up, and I have yet to find out the source of the snoring I heard in the night and this morning. No one on the couch this time, and too loud for it to be from the detached garage where the landlady sleeps.
Just like last Sunday, yoga and then to the tanning salon, and still with this scented pong from the intensifier lotion. The thought of not using it just didn't occur to me.
The yoga class had the heavy breather dude again, he sdroitly getting in front of my view in the side mirror wall. Some people, usually the Unfavored specimens, need to be in my vision much more than others. The one delectable babe was obstructed by a chinless older blonde woman, and so it goes, sprinkle in a few Favoreds, and then plant an Unfavored in front of them.
After tanning, then to engage with the petroleum interest/stungs of the perps, they reminding me that I needed to fill the tank up again, having passed the desired filling station. So on my way back to fill the vehicle, why, a gasoline tanker truck was filling at the Chevron with the old pumps and I was on my way to the one, a quarter mile away at most, that had the familiar pumps. And lo, if the only availible pump was the one where the four in-ground tank filler ports where arranged, me parking over top of them while I filled the vehicle. The prequisite hot-rod muffler noises started up while filling, and then the motorcycle noise was added to the noisescape. The perps made sure two motorcycles were on show, parked at a pump when selecting one to fill at. A three way vehicular clusterfuck when it came time to depart, a vehicle doing back-and-forths in front of me, someone waiting behind me, and two more sitting with their backup lights to get in the way. And so they did, one departing ahead of me and the other departing behind me.
The perps pulled a rainstorm while I was tanning, and so that was my greeting upon exiting the salon and walking to my vehicle. The trip to the gasoline station, while filling the tank, and driving back to my roomie hell was duly rained upon. Even if there was some sun and blue sky, someone likes to arrange rainstorms more than is coincidence for key Fuckover events (e.g. tanning, gasoline filling).
More of the protracted impasse over getting files onto the Android phone's SD card. I see that I am not alone as this generates plenty of web traffic, though none that seems to help me. And too, the perps could be up to their usual cognition abuse games, and have me all over the solution but unable to effect one. This is the stuff of what they like doing best; cognition disruption. After the color coordinated gangstalkers (both ambulatory and vehicular), the dogs and kids they like to put out, the vacuum cleaners, ladders, backpacks, plastic shopping bags, the vagrants, the cell phoners, and other assorted Unfavored Fuckwits, hammering my ability to percieve things comes next. Who knew that abuse could be so subtlely appplied?
Anyhow, I am going to publish this now (06-24-2012, 1420h PDT) and if anything eventful erupts for the remainder of the day, I will append it below.
I fly out later today, so this is just to fill the time until I am ready to go.
A yoga class, and a Saturday one to avoid the Sunday one with the heavy breathing fat male who likes to get close. And lo, if they didn't put on a negro male and a blonde girl, with my vineyard work colleage (female, redhead), behind them. Said negro saw fit to remove his shirt for more brown exposure it would seem, and thankfully he was mostly hidden by his blonde babe. I don't why the perps are so fascinated with matching blonde Caucasian girls with male negroes, but it is nothing new to me. "Hide the negro" (Unfavored demographic group specimen) has become the operative word, just as "hide the brown vehicle" (Unfavored color) games when driving and surrounded by my gangstalking posse in their arranged formations to obstruct the particular vehicle until it is too close to do so.
And I did get at least three deep brown vehicles, in separate gangstalking vehicle streams when driving from the house to the tanning salon (five minutes). I stopped into this shared house at my room after yoga and the owner had the vaccum cleaner going, and only then did I phone to see if the tanning salon was availble, which it was. When I asked if the lie-down bed was avaiible soon, she said "1:30" when it was 11:30. I said something like "sooner than 1:30" and she said "I meant 11:30". Like WTF; I get all these over-obvious mistakes too often, and getting screwed around like this is plain fucking disturbed. And of course they screwed my out of having my watch on to immediately check the time, all in keeping with the perp's obsession over all details related to this concept as well as the general FUD agenda.
Then onto another perp event they dearly like me to be doing, tanning. This time it was at a salon, and with an extra contingent of vehciles around me, as I have never done a back-to-back yoga and tanning before. There were extra gangstalking vehicles sporting PVC pipe on my way, so who knows what this is about, again, nothing new.
And I am begining to find my Android phone is more useless that I expected. Yes, it takes pics, but how does one get them off? Only yesterday did I have to ask to find out how to access voice mail. By holding down the "1" key I was told at the counter, and was duly informed the adjacent symbol it was the "universal symbol for voice mail". Like WTF; I had cell phones before, and all I had to do was select the Voice Mail menu item, and I got there. But now, one has to decode this obscure symbol on a key that is clearly marked for another purpose. Owing to this undeclared wretched dual modality, if one holds the key for longer, you don't get a "1": but whatever the dumbassed symbol means. And lets be clear; the "universal symbol" is of a reel-to-reel tape deck, as obsolete as it is obscure. So who writes this, never mind the neanderthal-like penchant for obsolete motifs with a current day touch screen interface phone feature?
06-20-2012
Back in the land of the sunny Okanagan after four days in Victoria, British Columbia, the Gangstalking Capital of Canada. Soo... many gangstalking and perp set-up stunt to recount here, even if in summary form. The wheelbarrow tire idiocy continues, Westjet didn't even charge me for the extra box, very kind of them it was. And I got an 3/4" cold rolled length of steel as the new axle, after the culls at Casterland sent me the wrong size and weren't too sympathetic about redressing this screw-up. After plenty of extra attention from the vehicular gangstalking force on the way to the steel supplier, and then a mighty piss after I ordered it at the front counter, and lo, if it wasn't there ready on the counter after filling the toilet, (and flushing of course). Funny the steel wasn't warm from being cut in the saw, but who knows, as the perps seriously diverted me from observing matters with a forced visit to the toilet. I had the old part (5/8" diameter axle), recieved the new replacement 3/4" steel, and OMG, what a might vehicular gangstalking as I drove to downtown Victoria to do other errands. As of mid-April I have a mid-grey Toyota Camry, and lo, if the same mid-grey colored vehicles weren't out in force; adjacent, at intersections etc. I was finally allowed to "get it"; grey gangstalking vehicles, (I was driving my mother's barely metallic tan Ford Escape, brown interior though), and a chunk of grey steel in the vehicle.
Then onto an irrigation supply house to get some new parts for my mother's wretched sprinkler, though of good quality, it was beset by poor fittings. And lo, if they didn't put a negro pseudo-staff member on, almost as black as the ill-lit shop, the mofo coursing around behind me for no reason, asking someone else if they had been helped (how did he know who to ask as he wasn't observing?), then across the counter, and then aiding said customer at a counter section 90 degrees offset in keeping with the perp anisotropic energetic research. I had to wait five min. longer, and finally the store proprietor came by, casual like, distracted too, and I assumed he was drunk or stoned so irregular was his manner. I got helped at the counter by the 300lb Fat Man, another freak-du-jour, though he was friendly at least. And have I mentioned how often the perps hound my ass over water supply, pipe material, sprinkler head types and material, what crops got irrigated with what pipes, and then eating said crops? Many times, and I suppose a visit to the irrigation supply house was way too exciting for the perp sick-asses.
Then back to the First Feral Family house to deal with the wheelbarrow, but I ran out of steam when I couldn't get the U-bolts I was looking for. I settled for redi-rod and will have to bend it at a later date with a borrowed propane or hotter torch. I was reminded I did this wheelbarrow wheel and axle rebuild way back in 1996, when the then wheelbarrow was the only farm "vehicle" for the six acres I owned with the ex. Then it was a new wheel, a new axle of cold rolled steel, and consummating with a visit to the neighbor with a welding shop to heat and bang the purchased U-bolts to a new shape that I couldn't do myself. (Propane torches aren't hot enough to work steel I found out). And said wheelbarrow was the means by which the extensive alpaca poo was removed, and for so many other chores on this infernally prohibitive and demanding property at the time. And I believe I mentioned that I fixed 600' of waterline, putting in 2" PVC instead of steel and this deformed blue plastic line, as well as five connection boxes and many other irrigation upgrades, including 200 new spray heads for the one acre of kiwi fruit. I did all that wheelbarrow rebuild, water supply upgrade (and its use), and countless other agricultural activities that I have since been forced to do yet again since the perps went overt in 04-2002. No...sir, it wasn't enough to lose our shirts on that wretched hobby farm, they had to run me out of an IT job three years later and start me working as a peasant in the strawberry and daffodil fields begining in 2008 when they finally let me work again, for a pittance this time. Now, in 2012, they let me "graduate" to working in a vineyard, which is where I presently work until the harvest is over.
So yes, it would seem this four day visitation to Gangstalking and Nonconsensual Human Experimentation Central, Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, was indeed a significant test event as they have had me out of town since early 01-2012, apart from a post-viticulture course two week visit in April to purchase abovementioned Camry. The perps have a long history of sending me out of town after an educational experience, and it is most curious as to why.
I woke up Sunday morning, and my mother announced the neighborhood deer had somehow eluded the deer fencing I installed the year before (2011) and now ate some of her garden plants, namely tomatoes and runner beans. And that became the emergency I had to deal with for the four days, using the remainder of the 4' wide stucco wire from last year (2011). The 4'x4' garden bed had to be fenced as the beans got moved to it. The 8'x4' bed was done last year in chicken wire. I had the posts, and kept the intact chicken wire rolled up over the winter. I expected to only re-erect the posts, and unravel the chicken wire and tie it up like last year. BUT, the first oddity was that there was a splice in it when it was a continuous section, as chicken wire is hell to deal with once cut. Once the posts were up, the chicken wire was found to be woefully inadequate in length, like 10' missing of 24'. To remind my readers; this roll of chicken wire was 24' long, a single continous length, and fitted the 8'x4' garden bed all the way around. I took it down at the end of last year (fall 2011), stored it as a single roll, and what happened to it over the winter? Why, "someone" severed it in mid-span, cut out 10' and spliced the ends back together. The latter is no mean feat, as a 4' wide roll of chicken wire has very many ends to deal with and bend, twice for a lapped splice. Soo.. the story is, some insane Fuckwit stole 10' of 4' wide chicken wire from a mid-length roll of 24' and spliced it back together again (a 30 minute job by conventional means), all to mess me around so I had to shorten up the fence and re-locate two poles, for which I had already drilled and installed four galvanized 4" lag bolts. And given the number of times the perps have me install, and then remove fasteners (nails, screws, bolts, nuts etc.), one can be sure that this indeed might of been the central objective. As for their rationale, and what it is all about, I have no idea. This Chicken Wire Section Theft and Re-splice Event has to be one of the more obvious and totally insane extra-conventional jerkarounds of the past ten years. But it hasn't gone unnoticed the perps like to arrange wire mesh in my proximity, and by cranking on the suburban deer problem, they got their wish yet again.
And the above deer invasion became the new-emergency, perfectly timed it was to my first morning in Gangstalk Central and re-configuring my activities, errands etc. I had to put the wheebarrow steel axle away, after rubbing it down with grease so it would not rust. And lo, if some three hours later when driving on the above mentioned errand trip, they tailed me with a bulk lubricant semi-trailer tanker for ten minutes or so, in a distinctly residential district. Funny how the petroleum products harassment and stunts continue.
As well, the plant hormone games continue, my mother dutifully acquiring Miracle-Gro again, and leaving it on the kitchen counter, first unopened, and a day later, the box was opened. The active ingredient for said product is 2,4-D, but just a little so not to cause the plant to grow rapidly into indehiscence, which is what the herbicide form does. Funny, Miracle-Gro never puts the active ingredient on the packaging. It would seem that plant hormone manipulation is part of the perp agenda too, based how often this "happens" in this protracted hell that I have been cast into.
An uneventful 45 min. flight back, and plenty of red-dressed passengers on board. A seat row to myself next to the window, and a 45 min. reverie over the beautiful sunlit landscape and overflying some notable natural landmarks (the Lions peaks that overlook Vancouver BC, Garibaldi Park where I once worked for a summer). All to have me "forget" to read my book that I had arranged in the seatback after take-off. No good practice can go undisrupted in perp-land.
Another evening on this four day visit was a dinner with my farmworker colleague, one who makes that I am an interesting person and how she wants to meet up with me. And to be straight, there is no romantic interest on my part, it is she that pursues me, as it is clear she is connected to Fuckwit Central, and the gig was scripted. The waitress was a total blonde doll by comparison, and it is rare the perps let me have that much observation time with a pretty and personable young woman. I suppose this was the protracted plain-woman (colleague) to gorgeous woman (waitress) comparison outing/test, as normally the perps like to arrange fleeting Unfavored-Favored contrasts among the gangstalker encounters.
What followed was a classic perp stunt; the tanning salon I frequented last year was next door to the restaurant and I wanted some of the scentless tanning intensifier (not a colorant or bronzer). And lo, if they weren't out of it, and I cannot get this online anywhere, or where I now live, Penticton, BC. Having me get skunked, as in not finding/acquiring what I was looking for, is a long time perp arrangement, usually in concert with Fuckwit gangstalkers around me. Though this time, it was my erstwhile farm colleague, and post-dinner time too, and extra challenging moment for the perp's remote energetic reading/analysis on me. That a blonde babe was also at the counter to tell me that a shipment was due this week wasn't a coincidence either, borrowing from the waitresses' look.
A family outing the next afternoon and evening (yesterday), following my daughter's graduation from the local community college. Much pictures in the evening under the trees after dinner in a nearby Thai restaurant with family. And per cue, out came the smart phones, and later the iPad, all in keeping with the perp's preoccupation with proximate individuals to be looking at LED screens. I don't know what the perps derive from this activity, but it has been clear from early on, that they just love to have me looking at CRT or LED displays with personnel/family, or even in proximity in the case of gangstalkers. That my classmates in my 2009 Oracle DBA classes would have the same red covered netbook at their desk, passing it on to other classmates, taking turns with the same netbook from class to class. Can we get more fucking obvious than that, netbook/LED display stalking? A related item was the new Samsung Galaxy Note cell phone I had for a few days before I took it back. It had an OLED display on it. Whatever it is that the perps are pumping through the wires and cell phone aerials needs to be tested on me for differing kinds of glass, LED resolutions, LED type and all the other technical parameters like circuit board color, wire color etc.
And now back at the cramped shared house, I was put onto "shit refugee" status within a half hour of getting back. First I was distracted from unpacking my suitcase by the six week overly long delivery of my cellphone accessories that had been just delivered on the doorstep for my arrival. Soo..., I get to unpack a suitcase and briefcase along with sorting out my laundry and then attending to the new cellphone accessories. After changing into new clothes, the forced "need" to take a crap came on, and so off to the mall to use the shitter there after being burned with a sudden onset of blocked toilets at this shared house. (And one at the vineyard owner's house where I work, which was a total blatant sabotage event for the minimal toilet content). And lo, if there wasn't the coursing dudes, one of whom was the cell phone service attendant I encountered last week. Some of the dudes were assigned concurrent craps, but no toilet blocking. The toilet even flushed by itself afterward, twice. And lo, if my Phillipino (read, brown) women gangstalkers that led me to the washrooms weren't there on my exit, loitering in the nearby food mall.
Then a "need" came on to get a stack of 100g bars of chocolate while there at the nearby LD store, and lo, if one stalking/stocking twit wasn't handling deep brown letter boxes across the aisle in front of me on my way to the chocolate. Then a planted notion to get some cash at the nearby ATM and cash the yellow colored check my mother gave me before I departed in compensation for the expenses I incurred in dealing with fencing, irrigation and wheelbarrow tire projects.
And in keeping with the perp's brown imperative, mixed in with the irrigation research imperative, I see that my perp abetting mother purchased 50' of brown garden hose, still coiled. So we are now entering a new phase of perp research, mixing/integrating their brown color games with thier irrigation supply research, and presumably by extension, its downstream color energetic effects on the plants that consume such supplied water, and too, the food consumed therefrom. Sounds like another ten years of insane abusive and deranged nonconsensual human experimentation is planned out.
The Summer Soltice was today, another perp parameter I have come to find, though I have no idea if it was central to above planning/arrangements.
06-21-2012
First evening after yesterday's flight, and I was jerked out of sleeping mostly, awake at 0300h, up at 0400h. The next door roomie artfully times his getting up earlier to match mine so he is showering while I am using the same water supply to clean dishes (concurrent water use). At least the 10th time this has "happened" in three weeks.
On the vineyard job, I took off my shirt, and then sun went behind high cloud 10 min. later and thereafter for the remainder of the day.
06-22-2012
More vineyard work today, but no tanning due to overcast conditons. Lots of deep mid-grey clouds in the distance, and I suppose this was interesting to the perps, given that I now have and use a mid-grey colored vehicle. On the way home they tailed me with a same mid-grey colored pickup truck towing a white aluminum trailer, and in front of me was a new white Volvo S-60. It only took the Volvo designers 10 years to clean up the look of the rear trunk, tailights and bumper design, and I must say it looks halfway decent. The perps go to great lengths to have me see vehicles with attractive design aesthetics, and after the horrid jelly-bean job they did on Volvos in 2000, they finally got it about right. The perps wanted me to know, as it is rare that I personally encounter new vehicles, being so financially strapped. And the perps know I have a fondness for Volvos, being a near-perfect confluence of design integrity, features, quality and durability IMHO. And too, the perps had me owning Volvos for 20 years in the past, so there must be something in it for them. It is also interesting that they ply me with Saabs in the vehicular gangstalking, a Swedish vehicle manufacturer that might get their steel from the same source as Volvo.
Other games that are going on are having me not use my regular mid-grey handled shaving razor while visiting Victoria, per above. I had my hand on the shaving razor to pack it, but "somehow" it didn't get packed, so I used these wretched white handled BIC razors while there. I survived OK, it is just that arms and body shaving never got done, and I have caught up in the last few days, doing one each morning in conjunction with shaving my face.
Another shaving method variation as also been imposed; normally after my shower I shave by applying a hot face cloth to the area and then proceed to shave in discrete sections (e.g. five passes on my face). Two weeks ago, they had me "discover" that I didn't need to use the face cloth to soften the hairs as I was fresh from the shower. So this big "discovery" has meant that I can speed up shaving and not apply the face cloth in advance of each discrete section that has shaving foam applied. Another adjunct to this was that I can take another short (sub-minute) shower to clean up my shaving hairs and foam all over me instead of using the face cloth, again in iterations to recharge it once it has loaded up. And because I must wait for the slow draining sink after shaving, I can take this second shaving-debris cleaning shower before the sink has finished draining. All this must sound like boring triviality, but in fact, the perps have a huge vested interested in absolutely every aspect of shaving and towelling dry, so this is a SIGNIFICANT advent in them changing this long running routine. Do I care? No; just leave me the fuck alone is all I ask, and it isn't going to happen anytime soon if it took them ten years to get this far.
06-23-2012
A visit to the market in downtown Penticton where they block four blocks off for vendors who set up their stalls. The Fuckwit Crush was out, including the step-in-my-way rude shit by assholes who were looking at me from less that 3' away. I was finally allowed to find a salad mix on the return pass, and lo, within a minute, they didn't pull a rain shower to accompany me for the 10 min. walk back. And too, this fucks me up, as I want to clean up my grease spotted raingear outside, and ironically it is raining, same as two weeks ago. The landlady's dude/boyfriend had to come and walk the driveway while I had the bag of salad in hand, just as his landlady girlfriend had to arrive in the kitchen when I was putting it in the fridge. What a bag of salad mix can do in Perpland.
And I see they wiped out two paragraphs that I had entered this morning in this here blog, and I am just too annoyed to replicate it. Besides, the perps manage mood down to full level control, and so it goes, more of what I have written is deleted by THEM.
More order obstruction and blocking. I am attempting to get a sunshade for my vehicle, and lo, if the Billing-Shipping address mapping doesn't put me into Alaska after typing "British Columbia" in the first list. Then it magically corrects itself when requesting shipping options. Then it screwed me out of having my password entered, so once that it is re-entered I resubmit. And lo, if the the application doesn't blow up and spew a page full of errors. I go back one screen to get to my details (now keyed in twice), and lo, if they didn't time me out after one minute of aforementioned adversity. All this was subsequent to "inadvertent" deletion of my order in the first place, having switched from the always-compromised (partial display) Firefox to running IE in Firefox browser window. Which begs the question, why does this keep happening to me? Because there is a total adversity/coincidence control office which oversees every aspect of what I do. I don't know how any reasonable person can come to any other conclusion after this same kind of abusive and obstructing inanity has been going on for ten fucking years.
Later, my first salad from above market shopping trip that I ate here in Penticton gets extra attention. The landlady was on the wireless phone talking all the time while I was eating it. (I was seated between her 10' away, and the reciever, 5' away, in the path of the EMF signals. Post lunch (salad now in me), she starts up the vacuum cleaning. And have I mentioned how often vacuum cleaning stalking erupts around me since the harassment began. At least 5x/year.
A 1.75 hour long forced nap after lunch, salad now digesting, which is way excessive when they screwed me into an extra two hours sleep last night. I suppose I could chalk this up to the post-salad consumption event.
An afternoon shopping trip, and why is it that so many people wander into my path and then don't make any effort to get out of it? I walk around them and lo, if they haven't turned yet again to walk at me, leading me to make extra effort to get out of their way. And they are uniformily trained to be totally blase/emotionless about it too. I have never met so many rude pedestrians since this abuse began.
Enough rants for the day, though further order obstructions did erupt, as it seems to be the day the assholes want me to put online shopping through, now four different orders on the day when I had been backlogged for months on getting on with them. They had me hold off until I moved in early June, and then kept up the sabotage and harassment plus the cell phone dysfunction games to distract me for a further three weeks. And so it goes, one slow weekend day.
06-24-2012
Another weekend day (Sunday), this time getting up at 0600h, which gave me 7 hours of sleep, more like normal. No one else was up, and I have yet to find out the source of the snoring I heard in the night and this morning. No one on the couch this time, and too loud for it to be from the detached garage where the landlady sleeps.
Just like last Sunday, yoga and then to the tanning salon, and still with this scented pong from the intensifier lotion. The thought of not using it just didn't occur to me.
The yoga class had the heavy breather dude again, he sdroitly getting in front of my view in the side mirror wall. Some people, usually the Unfavored specimens, need to be in my vision much more than others. The one delectable babe was obstructed by a chinless older blonde woman, and so it goes, sprinkle in a few Favoreds, and then plant an Unfavored in front of them.
After tanning, then to engage with the petroleum interest/stungs of the perps, they reminding me that I needed to fill the tank up again, having passed the desired filling station. So on my way back to fill the vehicle, why, a gasoline tanker truck was filling at the Chevron with the old pumps and I was on my way to the one, a quarter mile away at most, that had the familiar pumps. And lo, if the only availible pump was the one where the four in-ground tank filler ports where arranged, me parking over top of them while I filled the vehicle. The prequisite hot-rod muffler noises started up while filling, and then the motorcycle noise was added to the noisescape. The perps made sure two motorcycles were on show, parked at a pump when selecting one to fill at. A three way vehicular clusterfuck when it came time to depart, a vehicle doing back-and-forths in front of me, someone waiting behind me, and two more sitting with their backup lights to get in the way. And so they did, one departing ahead of me and the other departing behind me.
The perps pulled a rainstorm while I was tanning, and so that was my greeting upon exiting the salon and walking to my vehicle. The trip to the gasoline station, while filling the tank, and driving back to my roomie hell was duly rained upon. Even if there was some sun and blue sky, someone likes to arrange rainstorms more than is coincidence for key Fuckover events (e.g. tanning, gasoline filling).
More of the protracted impasse over getting files onto the Android phone's SD card. I see that I am not alone as this generates plenty of web traffic, though none that seems to help me. And too, the perps could be up to their usual cognition abuse games, and have me all over the solution but unable to effect one. This is the stuff of what they like doing best; cognition disruption. After the color coordinated gangstalkers (both ambulatory and vehicular), the dogs and kids they like to put out, the vacuum cleaners, ladders, backpacks, plastic shopping bags, the vagrants, the cell phoners, and other assorted Unfavored Fuckwits, hammering my ability to percieve things comes next. Who knew that abuse could be so subtlely appplied?
Anyhow, I am going to publish this now (06-24-2012, 1420h PDT) and if anything eventful erupts for the remainder of the day, I will append it below.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Monday Games
1735h
A day off from the labors of farm work, a stayover at the First Feral Family house, and then fielding and watching, as well as being subject to later gangstalking, and an obstruction stunt at the PO, an ongoing saga that continues. All over picking up a freaking parcel in a brown box, and here they stacked the waiting queue with wierds, including the 300lb negro in black and white clothes. The perps deem it important of late that I get to witness thick ropey necks, usually on fat people, also another Unfavored category besides aforementioned racial group member.
And the three shiftless Asians in black and white clothing at the street corner outside the PO were ready for gangstalking when I emerged from the PO, without parcel. They started some 8' ahead of me, the middle one carrying a cardboard box on his shoulder for no apparent reason, said cardboard having some red overprint on it as well. And so the brown cardboard box stalking has reached a new level of absurdity; ambulatory box packing next to one's face, a very light brown if at all. That the box bearing Fuckwit looked like Michael Jackson wasn't lost on me, though I really don't know why, as I never cared for his music or other show biz trappings.
But I did get to take my wool linting socks back, and still have to suffer another week or so of this nonsense before the acrylic ones arrive, doubtless to more parcel pick-up shenanigans. Another wicking T shirt got sabotaged in the laundry; a stain on it that won't come out, a deeper blackened area of the grey shirt that has survived in good shape for the past four years. It seems the perps want to move me onto colored shirts.
I did get some more cotton shirts today, my mother insisting I take back some brown shorts that she bought at the same store that were never used. All these feints and games over the color brown, and that wasn't the end of it. Later, we stopped at an irrigation supply business to get a fitting to connect the two ends from a sabotaged tear in her soaker hose. And lo, when the topic of soaker hoses came up, why, the store assistant showed us a roll of brown colored polyethylene emitter line, what the pros use apparently, with a filter and regulator installed as well. All that plastic, especially the water bearing pipe, is of intense perp interest, not to mention the brown casing it had on it. I believe I have previously mentioned the perps' obessions with water supply, the nature and color of the delivery pipe, and then the seeming consequent changes that this conveys to crops that are watered with these various water delivery/irrigation systems. Which is why they will have tractors tow those big 14' high reels of poly hose behind their tractors past me, as part of the vehicular gangstalking scene. This year and last, they seem to be most interested in the 3" aluminum pipe that the farms use, both my employers' water delivery methods, and the large poly pipe reels/sprinklers are being sidelined. And too, if the crop is feed for animals, say hay for beef cattle, this is also important to the perps, these downstream uses and the irrigation methods,water source, watering regimen, and color and material of the pipe. Their seemingly endless quest over combinations and permutations of water delivery and its interaction on and inside us nonconsenual human experimentations subjects continues. It wasn't enough that I swam in a swim club for 15 years in two different cities, so who knows where all this bullshit is going to end up.
2015h
Getting close to bed time for this 0430h awakening farm worker, cum TI. I just finished a screaming rage show over a sudden takeover of this PC, leaving the taskbar hidden, and the usual Firefox headers (e.g. address bar) missing as well. Pissing with the Windows settings of Autohide on/off didn't help, and I don't know how I got all of it back on the next Firefox bootup. The perps have given up on forcing keystroke blunders to cover their machinations as to changing the settings, it just "happens" by itself. That, and a prior shutdown at bootup of the PC with no message as to what transpired.
I did the two walk trot to get my parcel at the drugstore Post Office (PO), who have now changed all days of the week to close at 1845h instead of 1700h. It was just on Fridays that they pulled this stunt, and lo, today a Monday, all weekdays of the week are now posted as 1845h. The regular PO clerk was there even with the "Closed" sign up, and made mention of their new hours, and was reasonable about getting my parcel. She gave me an extra long stare, all in the friendly context, as she knows me from two visits in the last week. (But it was an irregular stare all the same, and I have no idea why this erupts so many times. It was the second blatant staring today, the first by some dude I didn't know on the first downtown outing today). This was the same PO that was open until 2300h a few months ago, so clearly this jerking around with the PO desk in the drug store is a big game for some insane perp orchestrator. Shades of "The Prisoner" again, funny how that show comes to mind, all these hidden and gratuitous changes by a mysterious governing agency.
I had my gangstalker entourage all over me when entering the PO this second time, a cyclist with a red helmet seemed bound and determined to hound me in, and to the first store aisle, though not to the back of the store where the PO desk is. One more parcel to go, and having got skunked on getting kneepads at the workwear store earlier today, this looks to be another web shopping. A MIB like skinhead was also on gangstalking duty in the store aisle; black suit for crissakes and shiny and totally bald pate. Fucking disgusting it was, but only one of the many increased dude stalking types I get. The waddling large gutted male in baggy shorts is also a highly prevalent Unfavored archetype.
And a new form of gangstalking dude, one who sits on a railing in red shorts on the N. side of the street when headed out for the parcel, and the same fucker was on the S. side of the street when I returned, wearing grey and black with a huge black backpack on. Like WTF; strange enough to have a shiftless dude sitting around doing nothing in mid-block, and then to switch the Fuckwit's clothing and side of the street when returning is just too stupid for words. Stupider and stupider is the catchphrase that comes to mind in predicting the next stunt.
And the parcel contained my six pairs of non-wool socks I had to order from the manufacturer directly, not being availible here. That prompted a final washing of the remaining wool socks sitting out for their own washing load, and hopefully puts an end to this insane litany of wool sock lint that has being building over the past 10 months. The lint problem persisted even when having a wool sock only laundry load, and as mentioned in a few prior postings, it is all about taking away the excuses. Though this doesn't always apply, as they manipulate each method of fuckery to end as they see fit; apparent ending of the source problem (e.g. disposal of all wool socks) or just a sudden self fixing, (e.g. above mentioned Windows Taskbar hiding.
And another WTF over my parcels at the PO; no GST (federal sales tax on nearly everything), no HST (provincial tax on nearly everything) and it came from North Carolina, USA. I am nearly always getting nailed for extra money to pick up my internationally sourced parcels, and got roundly screwed over this keyboard when it was shipped from California. My umbrella from New Zealand didn't beget me any extra GST or HST charges, nor did my clothes from Duluth Trading, Wisconson USA. There is no rhyme or reason as to when I am getting nailed for extra parcel border crossing fees, e.g the usual taxes one pays here.
Onto bedtime, and the rest of the evening, hopefully spent in sleep instead of the typical Monday night tossing and turning. Last week they had me flip over, on my front, then back, and repeating this inanity incrementaly every six inches of bed width from N. to S.
A day off from the labors of farm work, a stayover at the First Feral Family house, and then fielding and watching, as well as being subject to later gangstalking, and an obstruction stunt at the PO, an ongoing saga that continues. All over picking up a freaking parcel in a brown box, and here they stacked the waiting queue with wierds, including the 300lb negro in black and white clothes. The perps deem it important of late that I get to witness thick ropey necks, usually on fat people, also another Unfavored category besides aforementioned racial group member.
And the three shiftless Asians in black and white clothing at the street corner outside the PO were ready for gangstalking when I emerged from the PO, without parcel. They started some 8' ahead of me, the middle one carrying a cardboard box on his shoulder for no apparent reason, said cardboard having some red overprint on it as well. And so the brown cardboard box stalking has reached a new level of absurdity; ambulatory box packing next to one's face, a very light brown if at all. That the box bearing Fuckwit looked like Michael Jackson wasn't lost on me, though I really don't know why, as I never cared for his music or other show biz trappings.
But I did get to take my wool linting socks back, and still have to suffer another week or so of this nonsense before the acrylic ones arrive, doubtless to more parcel pick-up shenanigans. Another wicking T shirt got sabotaged in the laundry; a stain on it that won't come out, a deeper blackened area of the grey shirt that has survived in good shape for the past four years. It seems the perps want to move me onto colored shirts.
I did get some more cotton shirts today, my mother insisting I take back some brown shorts that she bought at the same store that were never used. All these feints and games over the color brown, and that wasn't the end of it. Later, we stopped at an irrigation supply business to get a fitting to connect the two ends from a sabotaged tear in her soaker hose. And lo, when the topic of soaker hoses came up, why, the store assistant showed us a roll of brown colored polyethylene emitter line, what the pros use apparently, with a filter and regulator installed as well. All that plastic, especially the water bearing pipe, is of intense perp interest, not to mention the brown casing it had on it. I believe I have previously mentioned the perps' obessions with water supply, the nature and color of the delivery pipe, and then the seeming consequent changes that this conveys to crops that are watered with these various water delivery/irrigation systems. Which is why they will have tractors tow those big 14' high reels of poly hose behind their tractors past me, as part of the vehicular gangstalking scene. This year and last, they seem to be most interested in the 3" aluminum pipe that the farms use, both my employers' water delivery methods, and the large poly pipe reels/sprinklers are being sidelined. And too, if the crop is feed for animals, say hay for beef cattle, this is also important to the perps, these downstream uses and the irrigation methods,water source, watering regimen, and color and material of the pipe. Their seemingly endless quest over combinations and permutations of water delivery and its interaction on and inside us nonconsenual human experimentations subjects continues. It wasn't enough that I swam in a swim club for 15 years in two different cities, so who knows where all this bullshit is going to end up.
2015h
Getting close to bed time for this 0430h awakening farm worker, cum TI. I just finished a screaming rage show over a sudden takeover of this PC, leaving the taskbar hidden, and the usual Firefox headers (e.g. address bar) missing as well. Pissing with the Windows settings of Autohide on/off didn't help, and I don't know how I got all of it back on the next Firefox bootup. The perps have given up on forcing keystroke blunders to cover their machinations as to changing the settings, it just "happens" by itself. That, and a prior shutdown at bootup of the PC with no message as to what transpired.
I did the two walk trot to get my parcel at the drugstore Post Office (PO), who have now changed all days of the week to close at 1845h instead of 1700h. It was just on Fridays that they pulled this stunt, and lo, today a Monday, all weekdays of the week are now posted as 1845h. The regular PO clerk was there even with the "Closed" sign up, and made mention of their new hours, and was reasonable about getting my parcel. She gave me an extra long stare, all in the friendly context, as she knows me from two visits in the last week. (But it was an irregular stare all the same, and I have no idea why this erupts so many times. It was the second blatant staring today, the first by some dude I didn't know on the first downtown outing today). This was the same PO that was open until 2300h a few months ago, so clearly this jerking around with the PO desk in the drug store is a big game for some insane perp orchestrator. Shades of "The Prisoner" again, funny how that show comes to mind, all these hidden and gratuitous changes by a mysterious governing agency.
I had my gangstalker entourage all over me when entering the PO this second time, a cyclist with a red helmet seemed bound and determined to hound me in, and to the first store aisle, though not to the back of the store where the PO desk is. One more parcel to go, and having got skunked on getting kneepads at the workwear store earlier today, this looks to be another web shopping. A MIB like skinhead was also on gangstalking duty in the store aisle; black suit for crissakes and shiny and totally bald pate. Fucking disgusting it was, but only one of the many increased dude stalking types I get. The waddling large gutted male in baggy shorts is also a highly prevalent Unfavored archetype.
And a new form of gangstalking dude, one who sits on a railing in red shorts on the N. side of the street when headed out for the parcel, and the same fucker was on the S. side of the street when I returned, wearing grey and black with a huge black backpack on. Like WTF; strange enough to have a shiftless dude sitting around doing nothing in mid-block, and then to switch the Fuckwit's clothing and side of the street when returning is just too stupid for words. Stupider and stupider is the catchphrase that comes to mind in predicting the next stunt.
And the parcel contained my six pairs of non-wool socks I had to order from the manufacturer directly, not being availible here. That prompted a final washing of the remaining wool socks sitting out for their own washing load, and hopefully puts an end to this insane litany of wool sock lint that has being building over the past 10 months. The lint problem persisted even when having a wool sock only laundry load, and as mentioned in a few prior postings, it is all about taking away the excuses. Though this doesn't always apply, as they manipulate each method of fuckery to end as they see fit; apparent ending of the source problem (e.g. disposal of all wool socks) or just a sudden self fixing, (e.g. above mentioned Windows Taskbar hiding.
And another WTF over my parcels at the PO; no GST (federal sales tax on nearly everything), no HST (provincial tax on nearly everything) and it came from North Carolina, USA. I am nearly always getting nailed for extra money to pick up my internationally sourced parcels, and got roundly screwed over this keyboard when it was shipped from California. My umbrella from New Zealand didn't beget me any extra GST or HST charges, nor did my clothes from Duluth Trading, Wisconson USA. There is no rhyme or reason as to when I am getting nailed for extra parcel border crossing fees, e.g the usual taxes one pays here.
Onto bedtime, and the rest of the evening, hopefully spent in sleep instead of the typical Monday night tossing and turning. Last week they had me flip over, on my front, then back, and repeating this inanity incrementaly every six inches of bed width from N. to S.
Monday, May 03, 2010
Musical Bus Seats
1350h
I have never seen so much seat swapping on the bus until today, and it would seem it has increased of late, and has an Unfavored Fuckwit sitting in the just-vacated seats of the Unfavored. Then they swap again, this time with the other passenger who was gangstalking me at the bus stop when I boarded against a stream of two with large baggage that needed to get off at the front door of the bus, replete with a large piece of wheeled luggage. First the E. Indian sitting two seats from me in the transverse seats sprang up at the next stop to sit in the very seat of the just-vacated blonde woman, who oddly only got off her seat to exit when the bus stopped, as if a last moment decision, and had to ask the bus driver to open the rear door as he didn't see her there at first, as the bus stopped for the reason to pick someone up.
After a few minutes, maybe 5 stops later, the E. Indian gets up and exits the bus, and lo, if the red-dyed haired woman in this ridiculous long florid jacket who was doing the pacing back and forth a the the bus stop where I waited didn't then immediately sit where the E. Indian was. After that I gave up watching the seat, but there was at least two more cases of seat swapping that seemed to be important for the show. And at least two cases of road works to pinch down the through lanes from two to one, and one of then was at a bus stop I sometimes use when my perp-abetting mother drops me off at the nearest shopping plaza. They have been busy running cable under the road in my mother's neighborhood, and it would seem that this job is a continuation of the same, now along a major arterial roadway, the same route that the bus takes.
And heavy on the red colors today, with the least-likely-bus-passenger being the elegant Asian woman in a red jacket, hair done up nice, and looking so out of place sitting with us shmo's on the rear bench seat, two seats away. Then they inserted a dude between us, so it would seem they want to blend these particular fuglies (red, dude) together in some way.
And major wind this morning when starting to dig a small section of ground in the frontyard of my mother's place, to build a platform for the garbage cans which stupidly sit on the slope of a bed of St. John's Wort. I suppose the perps were excited that I was digging the very ground where the garbage was, and all the more so that one can is made of brown plastic.And I don't suppose on the theme of brown color harassment it was any bit of a coincidence that they forced me to have a shit after the digging job and then backed the toilet up as well, another first as this one has nevef been backed up before, and has been there for some 10 years or more.
1755h
A sudden shutdown of the water, both hot and cold, and in the kitchen and bathroom, not even a residual drop which is most strange. But it seems that I am not allowed to use the water for making dinner, mostly for clean up, hands included. As part of the deal of finding out there was no water, the dish detergent clod that magically accretes at the spout was used to wash my hands, and it gets to stay in the drain trap until the water is resupplied.
This preceded dinner making, and the perps were also good for enraging me at least eight times in full voice, no dynamic windpipe constrictions this time; fake touches, the tortilla sliding in the pan by itself, noise associations where there was no causitive effect (like unsynchronized video and audio), some tapenade flicking, and tickling that arrived at my left sock for me to yell at the assholes, observed the navy blue sock touch the sock and pull on it.
Not as bad as the Boston water main leak, a 10' pipe that leaked big time. That is another perp hotspot, and it just might be related to the perp's ongoing fuckery over water supply, water uptake and whatever else interests they have with water. I am good for at least 20 runny nose events in any given day, and most often when I don't have kleenex at hand and am busy working on something.
This morning it was the above mentioned First Feral Family home garden digging that begat at least two nose running, using my glove to wipe it off, something they just love to instignate. The perps have a leather fetish to be sure, and I suspect it is that the tanning introduces all manner of metal salt interactions that the perps find so interesting.
1910h
Font size fucking is still ongoing, a relatively minor two year long game they play, changing the font size smaller when I return to a web page from a link I followed. I don't understand why they do this, but the size of text fonts is a big deal for my tormentors, and even reporting about it as I am typing begets overhead pounding noises (12" concrete ceiling/floors) that are heard through the earmuffs I am wearing.
Said earmuffs are deep metallic green colored, with dark grey foam inside that has mysteriously stained a lighter shade in places, and it is quite common for this color of vehicle to be present when I first set outside. And today, at the house opposite the First Feral Family home, why, a deep metallic green pickup truck parked there for no seeming reason, as the house owner is on the two tone white and brown pickup ownership assignment. Not a big deal, but it is most curious that they like to hound me with certain colors of vehicles on certain days. Mondays, being a no yellow color medication intake day, due to the constant "forget" situation when packing for a FFF stayover (last night), are usually big days for yellow colored vehicles to be gangstalking. And lo, if they didn't park a yellow taxi some 100' from the bus stop today, hiding (sort of) in the shade of a tree in a playground parking lot. A great place to find cab fare, har, har.
Other bullshit at the FFF home was to have a glass bowl sitting on the ceramic bowl stack, and the one that I used for cereal this morning. And it "happened" to be the identical bowl in which I made salad there some four days ago, though I did not eat from it. Funny how that happens, and of course with a cooperative asshole as a parent, and a disgustingly disorganized one at that, all manner of novel juxtapositions of objects and filth are completely in character with the way the place is kept. I am holding my nose in figurative terms as there is so many pockets of uncleaned splatter, or like messes, and if the perps taught me one thing, is that I don't like messes. (Even if they did demotivate me at times to have a nominal mess, though never in the kitchen).
2105h
And the water was on again, arranged to have me do the dishes immediately before making tea. And the side plate that was cleaned and dried was re-used within minutes to then be used for the chocolate that goes with tea. This might of been the grand plan; shorten the interval between plate usage. I have only two side plates as the other two mysteriously didn't return from Seattle, and one is dedicated for leftover tortilla use, and the other for breakfast and tea times. All this is extremely important for the sickos as any food contact and digestion needs to be quantified in some way with the crockery or glassware it was eaten from.
As part of this first time back to back dishes then tea time I also ended up towelling the 12" chefs knife blade dry, as it always air dries for the hour or more it sits in the rack before being put away. Not unexpectedly, they put on extra outside vehicle noise at the moment of drying the knife blade, as this would be the first time in over eight years they have arranged towel drying this knife blade. Wonders never cease, but it also shows how particular the assholes are, and how much further they have to go. Two more years of this insane abuse they say, which is likely bullshit, as the "one year more" mantra started (per mind fuck games) back in 2003. Occasionaly, about once per year, a run of planted notions as to a near term cessation of hostilities, but I don't see that happening. Not only do they have 55 years invested in me, but 8 years of intense abuse, and if they are still fucking around noisestalking my every utterance, and sabotaging even the word "the" when typing, they aren't going anywhere soon. Even if they get to 100% mind control, which they might in 2010, they aren't going anywhere until they get their brown color games sorted out as it seems to be integral to so many things; remotely reading victims, the petroleum interest, and their long running games with shit, toilets and sewers.
2315h
The month-end accounting is done, always a major screwed-over activity; typos, mis-reads, changing totals when I go back to the prior web page, miscounts, then getting the Provincial Sales Tax wrong (per mind-fuck), then ditto for the General Sales Tax, transposing the respective percentages of 7% and 5%. It is just hilarious for the perp sickos to have me use the wrong tax percent and then have me not bother to fix the error, and then tell me what the error is partway through the month. And making sure it wasn't worth the bother to fix it. Another fuckaround is to change totals, seeming after entry in the prior month, and then putting in a small sub-dollar adjustment transaction to fix the error for the same reasons; it is too murky for me to figure it out for amount that the error is, as the Quicken entry exercise is strictly for record keeping as the bank has the correct amounts/totals.
Only $213 on chocolate last month, less than for food this time. Wonders never cease. And a strange deposit in my account, from "Canada Fed", for $258, and $180 from them last month. I don't know who this is even, and it almost sounds like a prison payment, perverse as it sounds. Though, (per planted though flash), it could be the staged deposits for my training grant going back to December. Normally I would recall the odd name from the earlier transactions with them, but in accordance with perp fuckery/recall deletion games, I am not allowed to recall what I normally would. Part of the ongoing FUD show, and the assholes picked the wrong person to fuck with.
And how about that Times Square bomber on camera, changing his clothes (jacket) in mid side-walk. Funny, that is the very thing the perp sickos do around me! There is some kind of color interactions with clothing they are quantifying, and they are all over me if I make a clothing change before going out, say, to yoga. And they did send me to NYC in 2001 in my permitted working days, and I did stay at the Mariott at Times Square and had my only look at the city there. I was kept busy working to get out much. And they are putting on extra noise of loud mufflered vehicles as I type this and come to detail these "coincidences".
Enough of the banter; I have an early dental cleaning appointment and then a full day of squat. The job interests of last week, at least four all have come to zip.
I have never seen so much seat swapping on the bus until today, and it would seem it has increased of late, and has an Unfavored Fuckwit sitting in the just-vacated seats of the Unfavored. Then they swap again, this time with the other passenger who was gangstalking me at the bus stop when I boarded against a stream of two with large baggage that needed to get off at the front door of the bus, replete with a large piece of wheeled luggage. First the E. Indian sitting two seats from me in the transverse seats sprang up at the next stop to sit in the very seat of the just-vacated blonde woman, who oddly only got off her seat to exit when the bus stopped, as if a last moment decision, and had to ask the bus driver to open the rear door as he didn't see her there at first, as the bus stopped for the reason to pick someone up.
After a few minutes, maybe 5 stops later, the E. Indian gets up and exits the bus, and lo, if the red-dyed haired woman in this ridiculous long florid jacket who was doing the pacing back and forth a the the bus stop where I waited didn't then immediately sit where the E. Indian was. After that I gave up watching the seat, but there was at least two more cases of seat swapping that seemed to be important for the show. And at least two cases of road works to pinch down the through lanes from two to one, and one of then was at a bus stop I sometimes use when my perp-abetting mother drops me off at the nearest shopping plaza. They have been busy running cable under the road in my mother's neighborhood, and it would seem that this job is a continuation of the same, now along a major arterial roadway, the same route that the bus takes.
And heavy on the red colors today, with the least-likely-bus-passenger being the elegant Asian woman in a red jacket, hair done up nice, and looking so out of place sitting with us shmo's on the rear bench seat, two seats away. Then they inserted a dude between us, so it would seem they want to blend these particular fuglies (red, dude) together in some way.
And major wind this morning when starting to dig a small section of ground in the frontyard of my mother's place, to build a platform for the garbage cans which stupidly sit on the slope of a bed of St. John's Wort. I suppose the perps were excited that I was digging the very ground where the garbage was, and all the more so that one can is made of brown plastic.And I don't suppose on the theme of brown color harassment it was any bit of a coincidence that they forced me to have a shit after the digging job and then backed the toilet up as well, another first as this one has nevef been backed up before, and has been there for some 10 years or more.
1755h
A sudden shutdown of the water, both hot and cold, and in the kitchen and bathroom, not even a residual drop which is most strange. But it seems that I am not allowed to use the water for making dinner, mostly for clean up, hands included. As part of the deal of finding out there was no water, the dish detergent clod that magically accretes at the spout was used to wash my hands, and it gets to stay in the drain trap until the water is resupplied.
This preceded dinner making, and the perps were also good for enraging me at least eight times in full voice, no dynamic windpipe constrictions this time; fake touches, the tortilla sliding in the pan by itself, noise associations where there was no causitive effect (like unsynchronized video and audio), some tapenade flicking, and tickling that arrived at my left sock for me to yell at the assholes, observed the navy blue sock touch the sock and pull on it.
Not as bad as the Boston water main leak, a 10' pipe that leaked big time. That is another perp hotspot, and it just might be related to the perp's ongoing fuckery over water supply, water uptake and whatever else interests they have with water. I am good for at least 20 runny nose events in any given day, and most often when I don't have kleenex at hand and am busy working on something.
This morning it was the above mentioned First Feral Family home garden digging that begat at least two nose running, using my glove to wipe it off, something they just love to instignate. The perps have a leather fetish to be sure, and I suspect it is that the tanning introduces all manner of metal salt interactions that the perps find so interesting.
1910h
Font size fucking is still ongoing, a relatively minor two year long game they play, changing the font size smaller when I return to a web page from a link I followed. I don't understand why they do this, but the size of text fonts is a big deal for my tormentors, and even reporting about it as I am typing begets overhead pounding noises (12" concrete ceiling/floors) that are heard through the earmuffs I am wearing.
Said earmuffs are deep metallic green colored, with dark grey foam inside that has mysteriously stained a lighter shade in places, and it is quite common for this color of vehicle to be present when I first set outside. And today, at the house opposite the First Feral Family home, why, a deep metallic green pickup truck parked there for no seeming reason, as the house owner is on the two tone white and brown pickup ownership assignment. Not a big deal, but it is most curious that they like to hound me with certain colors of vehicles on certain days. Mondays, being a no yellow color medication intake day, due to the constant "forget" situation when packing for a FFF stayover (last night), are usually big days for yellow colored vehicles to be gangstalking. And lo, if they didn't park a yellow taxi some 100' from the bus stop today, hiding (sort of) in the shade of a tree in a playground parking lot. A great place to find cab fare, har, har.
Other bullshit at the FFF home was to have a glass bowl sitting on the ceramic bowl stack, and the one that I used for cereal this morning. And it "happened" to be the identical bowl in which I made salad there some four days ago, though I did not eat from it. Funny how that happens, and of course with a cooperative asshole as a parent, and a disgustingly disorganized one at that, all manner of novel juxtapositions of objects and filth are completely in character with the way the place is kept. I am holding my nose in figurative terms as there is so many pockets of uncleaned splatter, or like messes, and if the perps taught me one thing, is that I don't like messes. (Even if they did demotivate me at times to have a nominal mess, though never in the kitchen).
2105h
And the water was on again, arranged to have me do the dishes immediately before making tea. And the side plate that was cleaned and dried was re-used within minutes to then be used for the chocolate that goes with tea. This might of been the grand plan; shorten the interval between plate usage. I have only two side plates as the other two mysteriously didn't return from Seattle, and one is dedicated for leftover tortilla use, and the other for breakfast and tea times. All this is extremely important for the sickos as any food contact and digestion needs to be quantified in some way with the crockery or glassware it was eaten from.
As part of this first time back to back dishes then tea time I also ended up towelling the 12" chefs knife blade dry, as it always air dries for the hour or more it sits in the rack before being put away. Not unexpectedly, they put on extra outside vehicle noise at the moment of drying the knife blade, as this would be the first time in over eight years they have arranged towel drying this knife blade. Wonders never cease, but it also shows how particular the assholes are, and how much further they have to go. Two more years of this insane abuse they say, which is likely bullshit, as the "one year more" mantra started (per mind fuck games) back in 2003. Occasionaly, about once per year, a run of planted notions as to a near term cessation of hostilities, but I don't see that happening. Not only do they have 55 years invested in me, but 8 years of intense abuse, and if they are still fucking around noisestalking my every utterance, and sabotaging even the word "the" when typing, they aren't going anywhere soon. Even if they get to 100% mind control, which they might in 2010, they aren't going anywhere until they get their brown color games sorted out as it seems to be integral to so many things; remotely reading victims, the petroleum interest, and their long running games with shit, toilets and sewers.
2315h
The month-end accounting is done, always a major screwed-over activity; typos, mis-reads, changing totals when I go back to the prior web page, miscounts, then getting the Provincial Sales Tax wrong (per mind-fuck), then ditto for the General Sales Tax, transposing the respective percentages of 7% and 5%. It is just hilarious for the perp sickos to have me use the wrong tax percent and then have me not bother to fix the error, and then tell me what the error is partway through the month. And making sure it wasn't worth the bother to fix it. Another fuckaround is to change totals, seeming after entry in the prior month, and then putting in a small sub-dollar adjustment transaction to fix the error for the same reasons; it is too murky for me to figure it out for amount that the error is, as the Quicken entry exercise is strictly for record keeping as the bank has the correct amounts/totals.
Only $213 on chocolate last month, less than for food this time. Wonders never cease. And a strange deposit in my account, from "Canada Fed", for $258, and $180 from them last month. I don't know who this is even, and it almost sounds like a prison payment, perverse as it sounds. Though, (per planted though flash), it could be the staged deposits for my training grant going back to December. Normally I would recall the odd name from the earlier transactions with them, but in accordance with perp fuckery/recall deletion games, I am not allowed to recall what I normally would. Part of the ongoing FUD show, and the assholes picked the wrong person to fuck with.
And how about that Times Square bomber on camera, changing his clothes (jacket) in mid side-walk. Funny, that is the very thing the perp sickos do around me! There is some kind of color interactions with clothing they are quantifying, and they are all over me if I make a clothing change before going out, say, to yoga. And they did send me to NYC in 2001 in my permitted working days, and I did stay at the Mariott at Times Square and had my only look at the city there. I was kept busy working to get out much. And they are putting on extra noise of loud mufflered vehicles as I type this and come to detail these "coincidences".
Enough of the banter; I have an early dental cleaning appointment and then a full day of squat. The job interests of last week, at least four all have come to zip.
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