Brown Concrete

09-25-2012
It had to happen, now twice. The 60' driveway  (13.2 cubic meters) of concrete poured yesterday at the vineyard where I work, was colored brown by way of post manufacturing colorants that are added to the redi-mix truck before it departs the yard so it is thoroughly mixed by the time it gets to the jobsite. And as regular readers will know, the perps hound me with redi-mix concrete trucks (and the cement tankers too), and also like to arrange brown colored objects/skin color proximate to me. And now, the culmination of both at once, surely a perp coup; working on a brown concrete pour. This was significantly larger than the 12' long single step pour of three weeks ago, also a brown concrete job, different brown though, even if it adjoins this driveway.

I was working for the fellow who built the forms and was responsible for the job for the last week, doing raking, digging, soil transport, soaking the ground (with a hose and nozzle). Two days ago we were working on the steel reinforcement (rebar), and even yesterday morning before the first load of redi-mix concrete came in the large redi-mix truck. In other words, pouring of the concrete was the culmination of a considerable amount of work. This time there was a concrete crew of three, plus the fellow, plus me attempting to look busy as I had never worked on a concrete job before. I was the one pulling the rebar up so it didn't sit on the ground, so it would be positioned mid-height in the concrete pad. But I had to wonder if it was any useful, as the crew would routinely walk on the rebar as they waded through the wet concrete slop to do their screeding (smoothing it out with long implements). I also did my bit and helped the fellow out with the vibrator electrical cord so it didn't get into the sloppy mix.

09-26-2012
I walked on the finished driveway today, also soaking it with a hose each hour. The perps pulled a shit stunt, forcing a crap after a long series of shit stunts through the summer that suddenly stopped about six weeks ago. Thankfully, no toilet blocking, a rarity given their past record of toilet obstruction games at this location. But "somehow" a shit pebble arrived on the floor of the route to the washroom, found on my way out, with the cat drawing my attention to it first. I have had shit flicking games in the bathroom before, but nothing as obviously imposed as extending these games to another room.

A yellow shirt on today, always a big deal for the perps as it is rare they let me wear it. The yellow and brown color association games have been long noted, and I suppose this is par for the course.

Another perps theme they have me doing, is watering from the various hoses at the vineyard; vegetable garden, ornamental roses, petunias at the fishpond. then more powerwashing today, then hosing down the above mentioned concrete pad to keep it moist to slow down the cure and make it stronger. In the latter instance, using a green hose on the S end, and a blue hose on the N end. And at this rented residence, I do hand irrigation (=watering) of the plants that don't quite make in the range of the underground sprinklers. Different colors of hoses, and differing combinations of hose material.

A get-my-attention stunt this morning; driver of a pickup coming head on in my lane, 80' away before he yanked it back into his lane. And no excuse of bicyle or anthing else, just a blatant oncoming vehicle on a tertiary artery that has profuse traffic whenever I am driving there.

In the evening, a wacko woman in the checkout lineup getting way too close, then grabbing my items on the checkout belt, and when I objected, she went into a babble about "stuff", re-using the same word I got stiffed with. The faux nutter is a favorite perp guise, along with faux vagrants.

09-27-2012
Vineyard- all over the place, the owner doesn't want to commit to what kinds of wines he wants to make. The contractor vintner came by to tour the vineyard, and I was tagging along. I didn't get any pressure washing done today, it seems they need to string out this job as much as possible

An amazingly warm and cloud free day, unlike yesterday's cloud games, aka contrails. Shirt off again, now past the fall equinox and I am still picking up a little tan. I did bunch counts, and crop estimates. Only 200kg of Pinot Noir is forecast, which will equal 120 liters of wine at the general 60% Kilograms to Liters yield conversion. Not much of a crop there, but only 71 vines. About 5000 vines in Pinot Blanc, all contracted to the aforementioned party.

The double notice jerkaround from the Post Office again; sending me a second parcel delivery attempt notice two days after the first, and I take it there and they say it isn't available. Well of course, I picked it up yesterday. Then to the alterations woman who fixed the zipper in my pack, botched the job of making shorter shorts from the on-sale pair I supplied. Even the simplest tasks get sabotaged.

A one hour nap when I got back for no reason as my sleep is up-to-date.

09-28-2012
Not quite the glorious cloud free day of yesterday, but plenty warm enough for off-shirt time of some three hours before cloud cover came over and ended my on-the-job tanning.

Back to watering, this time a blue hose from the above concrete job was used, always a big deal for the perps when they can change up hoses and nozzles. And by extension, crop irrigation pipes, sprinklers and water dispersal heads. The last vineyard I worked at was changing out their PVC ball valves and putting in the better quality brass ones for reasons that weren't explained. There was nothing wrong with the PVC ones, though they don't last in the weather as the brass ones do. No doubt the wine from this new irrigation item will be duly evaluated by the perps. Endless amounts of variation in water delivery pipes and sprinkers remains a firmament in their research objectives. And too, water itself, from various sources and that would include the bottled water industry and all the schmoes who imbibe it. The vineyard I work at has two water sources and two storage tanks. The creek water supplies the first part of the year, and the Skaha lake water the latter, coming from the S and N respectively. This is identical to their immediate N neighbor who farms an orchard. I am sure the perps like to compare the energetic properties of his orchard fruit and whatever enegetic differences there are, also considering some of the irrigation line is common, and the submain lines' delivery to the trees and vines isn't. All too exciting for perp research.

09-29-2012
A Saturday, and in the realm of gentrified vineyard work, the start of a two day weekend. A haircut is due this morning, and the perps plant absurd ideations along with this, the second time in 6 weeks they have pulled this identical ideation theme.

The new location of the stylist I go to is the 300 block of downtown, and lo, if there isn't a Saturday market in mid-street, which makes for all kinds of passers-by, aka malingering gangstalking, though not visible from the haircut station. They even had one lying down on the curb-sidewalk (concrete-asphalt) interface, pretending to be sick or something with a female "friend" helping him. And lo, if the putative sick dude wasn't wearing plaid shorts, the perps very special fugly male wear they arrange almost year round for this town.

And continued perp-planted ideations over getting liposuction, absurd to say the least given the cost, never mind that the perps can add or substract fat as they like, and have done so in the past, under the guise of medication side effects. They have cycled me from pre-04-2002 normal (190lb) down to 180lb, then up to 215lb, and now have me at 195lb, about 5lb more than the start of this year. It is just plain tiresome to be so jerked with, in all its facets and manifestations. One year when working at a farm, they had me weighing myself on the pallet scales, and jacked with the display, indicating that I was 175lb. I wasn't losing any such weight, but the perps were consistently messing with the display.

In the waiting area of the cosmetology school,I selected O Magazine to read, though before I could sit down,  the head instructor asked me if I was "feeling strong", and I said no different than usual, and she asked me if I could do a favor and open the a gallon can of acetone as the safety cap was slipping. It slipped for me too, and I suggested pliers, but those didn't work either as they were the fixed hinge kind. She asked me if the screwdriver would work, and I said it would as a brute force method. So she applied herself to prying the cap off. She thanked me for my help, and I said it wasn't very much as she was the one that got the cap off. Anyhow, my stylist came to watch for a bit, and I suppose that is all part of the gangstalk deal, have the same in-close folks move to different places along with me before the extended contact time of sitting in her chair for the haircut. Never mind the chemical ether interaction of the acetone. And what is going on when the perps arranged two unrelated persons with hats on? One a customer that just finished something, and a woman as a "friend" of a customer.

I had the same stylist twice before, and the perps totally wiped my recall in not recognizing her. She looked a little different with heavy eye makeup, and only halfway through the haircut did I get to read her name tag and was allowed to recognize the name. I never, ever, forget a face, especially one seen at length, and even more so, I had her as a stylist twice before. For her part, she didn't make reference to any prior conversations we had and treated me like I had never met her before.

The perps have done this faked "forget" mind fuck before, often in service job personnel. They wipe my recall to the point of only having a vague notion that I might of seen the person before, and augment this with the person having much different makeup and/or wearing heavy glasses and not offering any recognition. Go figure.

Back from the haircut, and it is always a big deal then; ambulatory gangstalkers at the ready, and later a siren show with the big red firetruck coming down the main drag. And back to the mall where they forced me to take the fourth piss of the morning, replete with the shiftless loitering males and quite a pong too. At the LD store they put on a wheelchair stalker twice in the aisle and had her loitering at the checkout, and then timed her departure to do a lead-ahead stalking out the doors to the mall. Other Fuckwits who kept popping up wherever I was also did an obligatory visit-the-wheelchair while it was posted while engaging in a financial transaction.

Onto settling accounts with the landlady who lives upstairs. I do the garden maintenance and other duties to be tallied against the rent, bringing it down by $100 or so per month. I hand watered parts of the front and backyard that miss sprinkler coverage and it was taking 20 to 25 minutes. I claimed 20 minutes and she then tells me it only takes 15 minutes. Well, OK, if I hurry it along, and do less watering per plant, maybe 15 minutes. So if she knew this in advance, why didn't she tell me to do only a quick (though not adequate IMHO) job in 15 minutes? The endless FUD and disinfo fuckery that goes on each day is relentless.

Same at the vineyard where I work; a said-to-be important task of arranging the fruit bunches to be individually suspended from the vine and not on the wire or massed with other bunches was to be done in two weeks, all six acres. A tall order without mangling the fruit and wasting some of it, but anyhow, I start the job, but he wants it faster, so I take shortcuts. Then a week later I am "finished with the vineyard" and am the assistant winemaker, cleaning up the assorted, if not disorganized equipment. So... was the fruit arranging really that important or not? I don't know, as I don't have sufficient viticultural experience, but there wasn't anyone else to do it.

Now to post this Saturday evening, as it seems that I am getting interference in posting it on Sunday evenings. No habit or routine goes unfucked with.

Petrovoltaic Stone Mason

2125h
A rare day when the perps let me out to do something new, and didn't frustrate me at every turn, only every other turn. This was the event of building a 8' long wall some 3' high and tie it into the remaining wall that didn'f fall down this winter. This is at my in-town brother's place, he putting on this constant act of loathing house and property maintenance when he is a die hard garage sale wheeler and dealer. In his day job he works at a hospital to clean and prepare all the surgery equipment. And he gets seven weeks of annual vacation because of his seniority there. But he is a strange case; job loathing but not doing anything about it, and constantly complains about the vagaries of garage sales, his obsessive hobby. So when it comes to house and property maintenance, I get the call if it fits the perps' objectives of course.

The plant pruning certainly does, as they were all over me with noise at the moment of severing the excessive branches, and once my brother even timed his squirrel abatement activity to the moment I was cutting a branch off nearby. But today, it was on to masonary, playing with motar mix and pre-mixed concrete, and regular readers will know that the perps are plenty beserk about these products and placing them around me, including putting gangstalking redi-mix trucks through downtown to "join me". They love to have me witness major public construction road works and the like, to have me there for a big pour day along with the concrete finishers. And then have me walk on fresh but firm concrete a day or so later, and keep me walking on these surfaces, in some cases for over three years. There are many sections of public sidewalks that get dug up for no seeming reason, 4' or so to 20', sometimes with more than one pour, or perhaps, source of concrete. They also like to arrange "grind downs", where the concrete edges have lifted, and the surface is levelled by grinding down the raised edges.

So...., making up concrete from the bags got me extra noise attention today, but my in-town brother was "hanging around", smashing old mortar off the rocks of the former wall section, and then had to answer a cell phone call and then circulate around me while I was mixing concrete, pacing around and circling me, just like a downtown gangstalker. As there are plenty of EMF signals with an cell phone transmissions, and that the perps are keeping me in a densified magnetic field (over 1600 Gauss), it is important for them to have cell phoning Fuckwits posted around me, especially for big events (for them) like entering or exiting buildings, moving from room to room, and when the bus is turning corners. I reckon that cell phones are good for the asshole's electromagnetic investigation games, as well as whatever reaction one has from whatever they do to the LCD displays on cell phone, just like on this here PC. There is something that comes off LCD displays that is of use to the perps, as they will often have a Fuckwit standing in mid aisle or nearby on the bus, just looking at the screen on the cell phone. Or else, in more limited ways, do the same with the laptop, having them open and active two seats next to when on the bus.

I have never built a rock wall before, but as we had gathered the rocks two days ago, I reckon the perps convinced my brother that I was up for the job. Why else would he hand this task over to me when I am totally inexperienced? Over the course of six hours I had made a passable foundation of rock bedded in by mortar, and had poured concrete into a gouge in the bedrock to level it up. I asked my brother to put in a stringline for where he wanted the wall, but by the time that I had need of it he had strung it skewed, so it was useless to me. But useful for the perps to have a brown string just over my head and then brown vertical string as well. Regular readers will know how much the perps covert having brown things around, me, but not worn by me, and the rest of their beserk fascination with all things brown, especially when in the bathroom.

I used my new gloves for the rock wall job, as the other pair I keep at my brothers has been trashed by someone cutting holes in two fingers of the left hand. This new pair is of the same type of yellow leather, but with black stretchy panels on the backs of the hands. And I should not of been too surprised to find that the gloves, likely via the perps, had made my hands yellow from "dye bleed off" by the end of the day. This then fed the Fuckwit Frenzy at the bus stop. I arrived at the bus stop at 1700h, just missing one because of the traffic light timing. within five minutes, five Fuckwits had arrived at the bus stop, mouths agape, bald head on display, or otherwise seeming totally odd. One had a yellow shirt on and was determined to step into the center of the sidewalk and block my view of any oncoming buses. And he seemed also determined to block the sunlight as well, until I leaned forward and put an end to that bullshit. After waiting some eight minutes for a bus, another Fuckwit arrives with a folded yellow T-shirt in hand, coming closer that the yellow shirted Fuckwit. And that was the signal it was time to go, and walk back into town, as waiting for a fucking bus turns into a sicko feeding event, color coordinated to the dye they put on my hands.

A forty minute walk into town didn't ensure that I was Freak Free (aka gangstalker) by any means, as there were all manner of weirds stationed at the bus stops when walking past, but at least I didn't have to deal with their fucking stake-out games. The perps don't normally let me do much exercise, especially running and walking,  as it seems they cannot get enough of their irradiation fuckery on me while moving. Sure enough, when I get back to my apartment and onto this PC, some kind of vision buggering irradiation is coming off this LCD panel, just like in the days when they did let me out for extensive (greater than 30 minutes) of walking. Back then, 2006 and 2008, after each walking outing, they would hammer me with some kind of eye-buggering irradiation off the LCD panel, as it seems that exercise has a dissapative effect, as well as they cannot measure me accurately when I am moving. The stopped me running in 2003, as presumably that presented even more technical challenges for the Fuckwits.


It was interesting to note the noisestalking timing today while rock wall building. Anytime rocks were grinding or binding was a big deal for the assholes by adding more noise, the reasons noted in the recent blog posting, introducing the concept of petrovoltaics, rock sourced electromagnetics, which isn't new, it is just that it also likely serves the perps' agenda, as they like me to be exposed to soil and rock diggings as much as they can arrange. (wikipedia has it as petravoltaics, misspelled). And to have me get rocks from one location and place them on bedrock at another location is just too exciting for them. And to add mortar mix and cement into the picture, and then to have me later walk home for 40 minutes on all kinds of new streetwork poured concrete surfaces, why, it it just too much for a perp sicko to contain themselves.

I am getting the knee pain jabbings tonight, and the ear ringing noise is getting way to vexing, so it is time to make excuses and blog off.

Call of the Daffodils + 02-23-2010 Updates

2050h
Two days of daffodil flower picking are over. I will take tomorrow off (a Tuesday) to sort out the back ordered/no show removable hard drive rack for my PC. And of course the perps make me do this ass backwards. The process should of been to confirm the local source first, then cancel the back ordered item second. But no, I got fucked into doing it backwards, without confirmation of local supply, and I "forget" and send an email to cancel the backorder. I hope I can sort this all out tomorrow with a minimum of fuss, but this entire bullshit was exacerbated by the fact that the backorder outfit didn't reply to my email today, and neither did the local supplier. One fuck up after another, and then they have me fuck up as well, putting this much protracted exercise, now into its third week, into deeper doubt. And this removable rack order started because the perps wouldn't let me load a boot manager (tried four different ones) and then they wouldn't let me install VMWare, which would of provided a Linux environment, which is what I want. This insane litany of technical sabotage has been playing out for at least five weeks, and I am sick fucking fed up of this, and the rest of this senseless obstruction and sabotage.

And that is only the PC and the Linux environment. Then I want to load Oracle 11g on it, plus some Oracle software tools, and then use it to learn and study what is being taught in my evening class. I am only six weeks late already. And as well, the assholes continually dither me after an hour of studying, so this is all getting rather tense as I want to write two exams on this material to earn some kind of credential, rather than being only a course participant. My plan is to study most of April and write the exams in the latter part. But as I am doing this with "new company", erstwhile sabateurs from hell, and it behooves me to get on with it, and I cannot. One delay after another after another and then the technical hurdles mentioned above still must be accomplished.

Back to other perp arranged inanity. Two extened 1.5 hour delays before picking was permitted, today and yesterday. That means no pay for hanging around with some 100 daffodil pickers, now getting infiltrated with some wackos. There were more housewife types last week, but they seemed to have dropped out, and the trail of strange dudes (mostly males) has been inserted. Why, even a skateboarder "happened" to catch the crew bus on the approach to the highway, so the bus stops in the adjacent lane and picks up this tall blonde weird with long hair, beard, red sweater and his freaking skateboard. Never seen the guy before, so how did he know to get the bus there, which by rights, shouldn't of stopped there and obstruct the traffic behind it. Stranger things have "happened" on the crew bus, but not more blatant ones.

Me, and some hundred gringos or so, plus 50 Mexicans, got to hang around in the farm warehouse grounds until the chief grower allowed us to set off picking, as the daffodil stems were frozen from the frost. And of course it it prime gangstalking time then, having the victim captive with all the weirds. Lets see; there were at least two lying down horizontal on the packed gravel surface, two doing some kind of ass-to-ass yoga, at least four dudes aligned and doing some kind of stretches, one with his feet wide and a plastic grocery bag dangling between his legs, and  then there was the grotesque red fuzzy mop haired dude did at least three pass-bys as I was sitting on the concrete wall for the entire time. All the while I got to listen to the inane banter going on, though thankfully no Scottish or British accents, though some other Germanic languages which doesn't seem to perturb me in the same way. (Or, at least, that is how the perps control my "reactions" to be).

And how is it that I am either first or last on the bus so often? This morning, after waiting, and the word came down that we could go picking, I went to get the right gear for a warm day, which it was, and wasn't gone more than three minutes and when I came out, both buses were filled up and I was the last to get on. Yesterday, two identical crew/school buses were lined up at the day's end, and I sat on the first one, and no one came on board. Then after some 15 minutes, the 50 Mexicans arrive plus one gringo and fill the bus. Their foreman tells us two gringos that the bus wasn't going back to the farm, so we got off to go in the bus behind where all the gringo daffodil pickers were on the bus. So how did everyone know they were to go to the second bus and not the first one, and how did they know that the Mexicans were going to have their own bus when the  two crews were mixed in the morning's run to the daffodil fields? Funny how all this groupthink is just so plain efficient and I am not in on it. And as it turned out, the bus with the Mexicans DID stop at the farm warehouse, and we could of stayed on board.

What else is there about the continuing toil in the fields of daffodils? Plenty, especially when I am handling the groups of 25 elastic bands (think brown color) that I arrange on black carabiners so they are stored ready in discrete quantities. They had three around me first thing this morning when I was first transferring the 25 elastic bands on the black colored carabiner to my leftmost two fingers on my black gloved left hand where they stay slightly stretched, enough to hold them there. Anytime I do this in the field, and not just when starting with other milling around me, the perps put on extra street/road traffic noise, extra tractor noise or someone starts a conversation. Yesterday, my daffodil row mate "needed" some of my elastics immediately after I finished replenishing my supply onto the carabiners. All to sample the brown, it seemed, the brown being the color of the elastics that bunch ten daffodils, the unit of pay. (See the posting  All Things Brown and Beautiful under the Consolidated Links List at the right if you are unfamiliar as to the perp's obsession over all things brown). We are to pick over 7 million daffodils as part of the contract to the Canadian Cancer Society. That is a whole lot of daffodils any way you cut it.

Another pisser today was my daffodil cutting knife, one that I kept sharp each day by sharpening it up with a diamond hone, was lost. I left it in a box of daffodils at the far end of the field as there was no foreman around to tally the count. When I later encounter the forewoman, I ask her to retrieve my knife as a favor when she does her rounds to tally my daffodil bunches. And lo, it "so happens", that she does retirieve it, but she loses my knife before she got back. I don't believe it; she isn't a careless person, she even lost her own personal knife, and somehow she loses my knife too. I had a spare, so it was put to use; the knife had been in my kitchen drawer in a plastic tray for the past 2.5 years, so it is likely that this knife losing stunt was well planned. I just don't get it; why have someone else lose my knife for me when they could of fucked me into losing it "myself"?

And it seems as part of the show, it is important to the perps as to how I sharpen the knife, and what color the honing device is, and what materials it is made of. I switched to a two grit diamond hone for the first time last week, and marvelled at how I didn't have to hone the knife for an hour to get the edge sharp. And not having to dress the stone to unclog the porous structure is another bonus. So I would assume this knife losing incident is part of the stunt of testing the interaction of the two different kinds of knife steel with that of the sharpening device and that of the daffodil stem cutting. And too, the color of the plastic "dots" filler on the hone; why didn't they make the entire surface the diamond hone the same material instead of adding the plastic filler? Go figure.[later, I read that it is to allow the residual metal space so it doesn't clog the hone surface].

I could riff on for all the knives that I have "lost" over the years, now assigned to perp meddling and fuckery, as they still go apeshit with noise anytime I use a knife, especially when I cut up the cooked chicken meat, (and even as I type this). I have had knives that got lifted from my airline luggage, one that strangely flipped out of what I considered to be a secure sheath, a Buck knife that went missing "by itself" in my apartment in 2003, and its predecessor Buck knife that strangely broke and was replaced. The perps constantly lobby me to get a ceramic knife for the kitchen, but as they cost $100 or more, I tell them to deliver one instead, which they don't do of course. Their modus operandi is to have me "find" one somehow, though for such an exotic item, that would be truly odd. I need a better gig than daffodil picking to afford that kind of luxury.

And how long have humans being making cultery; swords, knives, etc. in the bronze age, then the iron age, etc. and here we have the perps hounding me over which kind of knife I use and how I sharpen it. My 12" chef's knife has been in my posession for over 30 years, and always leached some rust if it was left to air dry, so I would dry it immediately after doing the dishes. In 2003, the perps decided they didn't like the kind of steel it was made from, and slowly changed it over a week or two into a different kind of steel that does not leach iron oxide (rust). I haven't devoted much thought to why the perps are so fucking beserk over knives, and my use of them, but I would surmise that the iron, and all the other elements that are made into the knife steel all have various "earth energies" (from the ore), and these are conveyed to the food or object when it is being cut. Some people say they can taste the metal on knife cut food, though that isn't true for me.

A possible "countermeasure" or perp confounding measure might be for the TI to ingest some iron powder, assuming this is safe after one does their homework to determine this. I have looked in the past, but could not find any Canadian suppliers, as I didn't want to take the risk it would be intercepted and not allowed. Idle speculation on my part; dither one's own electromagnetic signature. Perhaps ingesting colloidal silver in healthful quantities might be a better method of achieving the same end.

There were other strange eruptions on the daffodil picking front that aren't coming into memory, so I will leave this posting for now, and will add them in later.

02-23-2010 Updates

0945h
More recollections from yesterday's daffodil picking in the farm fields are now permitted. It was the day of wearing the deep grey undershirt, and hence, per past experiences, extensive flypasts of the deep grey colored military helicopter that frequents that area for some unknown reason as there is no military base or helicopter operations center nearby, only a commercial (international) airport. I gave up wearing this undershirt as there was an undeniable correlation of the Sea King flypasts whenever wearing it when doing farm work duties in the fall last year, (09 to 11-2009), but as it "happened", this same deep grey undershirt was my only option yesterday, and so it wasn't too much of a surprise to see this very same helicopter making at least 15 passes by the farm fields yesterday. As always, some kind of blackish beam emanated from the radome. And too, these daffodil fields are a half mile further south and west of where I was working last fall, and the flight path seemed to be changed to accomodate its usual E. flight path to be in the same respective horizon position of the daffodil fields I was working in. As mentioned last fall, the Sea King helicopters are usually a light colored grey, but this particular one is a deep grey color, matching that of my single deep grey undershirt. Time to toss it.

Other deep grey color attention yesterday was a bulk cement transporter, presumably loaded with cement, that lead the crew bus for most of the 10km drive into downtown at the end of the day. I see about two bulk cement tractor trailers a month, so who knows, maybe it was just coincidence. Plenty of perp beserkness over this deep grey color has been noted in the past, and I suppose they are working through their leveraging of small amounts of the color on clothing, the deep grey vinyl palms of my black stretchy work gloves, to that of my undershirt (under black fleece sweater and a mid blue fleece vest), and who knows what, up to a tractor trailer and pup load of cement. I don't know the reason for these incremental color exposures, a small amount immediately close (e.g. clothing portion) leading up to a larger amount further away (e.g. bulk cement some 40' in front), but it is as consistent as it is relentless.

And on the negro exposures front, they introduced a negro male onto the crew who was working some 20' distant, and then pulled him further away after some 10 minutes, which is what they nearly always do. (On the city bus they werre pulling off the male negroes within five minutes for a time). A mentioned before, they are less than 3% of the population in this area,  and yet have a disporportinate amount of perp arranged gangstalking exposure. And when doing the forced outing to the LD for a pharmacy refill because their phone refill system was inexplicably on the fritz, why, there was a negro male on "just standing there" duty (aka sentry duty) outside my apartment building on the sidewalk of the same height and build as the one in the daffodil crew yesterday. It was too dark for a positive identification, but chances are it was the same one, going by this same coincidence being played out earlier (described next).

When I got off the crew bus yesterday in downtown, and walked a half block, why, there was one of the dudes on the daffodil picking crew who wasn't on the bus, "happening" to be waiting at a traffic controlled street corner some 15' ahead. And as I was making the identification it was the same Fuckwit, he slowly turns around for absolutely no reason and looks at me through his ridiculous wrap around shades on 1750h, close to dusk), and then slowly turns around to return his gaze to look at the street he was about to cross. This isn't the first time that a Fuckwit has done a "pose and stare", to expressly look behind himself (note, spinal twist, perp favorite move after head scratching) for absolutely no reason, but it is interesting that they have Fuckwit bait in place that I gradually identify as a co-worker or doppelganger thereof, who gives me the stare for no reason, looking behind them so to incorporate a spinal twist. Advice for the sickos; stick to blondes instead of these fugly dudes.


Enough of yesterdays Fuckwit World, and on with today's.

Combination Activity Day

1610h
The nonconsensual human experimentation research might be progressing; they are having me do multiple activities in one day. It was laundry, bathroom cleaning and before all that, a 25 min. round trip to get my hair cut at 0900h. Even my gangstalkers when outbound on my way to getting my haircut were still in place on my way back. The excuse for someone to be loitering for so long was that they were watching a big concrete pour at the construction site that began work in the summer. There were at least three full size redi-mix trucks, one lined up behind the other, and two abreast, and a full size pump to send the concrete up into the boom and over the fence and into the pour location that was still below grade. Regular readers will know I am routinely gangstalked by concrete delivery trucks, concrete pump trucks, cement powder delivery trucks (to the concrete plant), and other major objects of this industry. I wondered why my hair was growing faster than usual and it would seem that the perps wanted me to be walking past this major concrete pour job this morning.

I haven't quite figured out what the perp's obsession is over with respect to concrete, but they have put on many small jobs, and one whole nearby block of street bedded concrete, and many other proximate jobs for me to walk by when they are pouring. One was a 50 story office tower with the biggest continual pour in Seattle's history. They also like me to walk on concrete of varying ages as well. I suspect they want to fully quantify the energetic interaction between me and concrete which would then aid them in isolating other substances' energetic interaction, which likely includes the planet Earth itself. There has been plenty of recent garden digging to suggest they are attempting to isolate the soil component from this equation, and they even put a 4' square hole 5' from the checkout in the supermarket I frequent. (It was poured about a week ago). I also suspect the limestone in the concrete is a problem to energetically separate from limestone like compounds in our skeletal bones.

And I am sure that passing by the concrete job without my hair cut (outbound), and then again with my hair cut just might serve the perp's purposes in distinguishing the difference between the multiple sources of limestone energetics. And no, I will not ever wear the disgusting skinhead look that is all the rage in this town for likely related reasons. The perps had already set me up for a hurl-worthy negro skinhead gangstalker who obediently tipped his head forward the instant my eyes were directed at him, which also "happened" to be a shade to direct sunlight transition location. Again, I ponder why there is all these shiftless males wandering around who seem to lack a day job.

Another shiftless male gangstalker was dressed in a black jacket and white pants, and "happened" to be behind a construction walkway, but his blonde gangstalker companion was visible from afar. And so when I got closer, the dude "happened" to be revealed next to his blonde girl co-gangstalker. The signficance of this is that the Favored one is presented, (the blonde), and when closer, the Unfavored one (the dude in black and white) is revealed in the etheric penumbra of the blonde. I remarked on this in yesterday's blog posting, the auric co-opting of the Unfavored with the Favored, even for a short duration. And the white pants as viewed from behind is a particularly fugly sight for me, and I wonder how I got that subconscious reaction to that garment/color/presentation that the perps work at so assiduously and consistently in showing me. The perps tell me that these are to prompt elicitations of subconscious recall, which begs the question as to how these causal traumatizations happened, as I have no recollection of it. Because the white pants gangstalker act is so frequently displayed, I suspect that their story is for real. They wiped my recall clean from 1957 to 1959, ages 2 to 5, and their traumatization events/fuck-ups may have taken place then. It would of been far simpler to leave me alone that to spend over six years of attempting to elicit certain subconscious recollections that only they can detect. I didn't know I had them until this concerted gangstalking program, and I was functionally OK. But it seems that these subconscious aversions and loathings that I have are a problem for the responsible party, and moreso, something they want to correct without my permission. Just leave me the fuck alone, and fill up my bank account bigtime like you do for all the other shills and quislings.

Similarly, the male skinhead act is very common, and two weeks ago they even put a male Caucasian dude in front of me and my mother when at the shopping mall. Yet more shiftless males wandering about and putting their Unfavored selves for me to see. Today's negro skinhead would be another example, and this has a fairly high incidence for the few negros in this city. Regular readers will recall that about two months ago they put a female negro skinhead gangstalker on me immediately after departing the chocolate section of the LD store. Talk about fugly, that was worst one of the week.

Once I exited the hair stylist's they had at least four gangstalkers converging on me, a near swarm but not the can't-move ones they sometimes pull.

1725h
A run-up of street noise, mainly loud mufflered vehicles with extended sound decay as they "travel". Many of the road traffic noises are so silly that I suspect that most of it is faked by some sound projection capability. They like putting in Vespa noises (like a mosquito), then deeper mufflered vehicles winding out to high rpm as they seem to become more distant. The overhead pounding and rumbling has started up, and just before, they gave me a full body zapping with a simultaneous vibration through me to get me riled up and to then "cause" me to take the earmuffs off. It is the pre-mealtime noise flurries and harassment that I nearly always get.

And too, the fact that I am reading Alien Jigsaw , Project Open Mind, and the stories about military abductions is also interesting to the perps. The author, Katharina Wilson postulates that part of the abductions is about mind control experimentation. I agree, coming from the human nonconsensual experimentation side and being subjected to various never-before behaviors that spells mind control in the appalling absence of the clinical community and the paucity of evidence that they have to offer. We TI's don't get the luxury of any evidence, just our stories which are remarkably consistent all over the world.

It is also interesting that Katharina Wilson describes red haired "greys", aliens, and that the perps also have an obsession over presenting this fugly hair color whenever they can as part of the Unfavored. It does cause me to ponder the commonality of our experiences.

2135h
More exploration of the abduction and alien experience world until I was somehow cognitively dithered and made to quickly scan the web pages and get nothing out of it. As always, the perps prevent me from knowing what is going on until they later let me in on what they are doing to me. This is one method of activity redirection, though not the only one.

And for tomorrow's activity complexity they have me lined up to do yoga and a later dental appointment. There must be some intended downstream benefits for the perps after yoga, as it is a high gangstalked event, just merely walking the three short blocks to get back to my place after the class. And when living further away from the yoga practice venue in 2007, they put on the military personnel for me to see. I have never seen so many in town and all they were doing was shopping, standing around and smoking or some such bullshit activity. I rarely get the military dressed gangstalkers now, though the police and firemen might be substitutes in part, though not the same clothing color which is all important to my tormentors.

2210h
The latest; the perps won't let me listen to music online. All the videos are blanked out, and by "happenchance" when I clicked on the bounded empty box the video controls "arrived", and only spoken word ones will work. The music sites don't load, all for the perps to place more tabs and flickering windows for no useful purpose. It was bad enough the assholes cut me off of movies, but they have now extended this constraint more. It is fucking insane to be kept like this, and if you didn't know it, I spend a lot of my day dealing with my reactions (more like, planted "reactions") to this imposition. Imagine, spending six years of being violated up the asshole, even literally, and not have any recourse to the train of stress, sabotage and collateral damage. And the only reason I attempted to listen to music was that they cut me off from reading, per above cognitive dithering. Now to find another diversion online to pass the time.

Catch Up

2010h
No posting yesterday, as I was subject to a very unusual nap attack. I was made to nap for two hours in the evening, from 1930h to 2130h (9:30 pm) and was awakened only to find myself unable to get up from the nap, and then I lapsed into another two hour sleep before I got up at 2330h. Essentially, I was "napped" the entire evening on the bed, only to be awakened at bedtime to then sleep in the bed.

The precursor events are likely tied to the above nap attack, as it was a day of digging daffodil bulbs in the rain for the most part. Not a good experience as my rain gear was sabotaged as part of the skullduggery. The rain coat zipper "broke" and was unusable, and the pants leaked at the knees as I was kneeling when digging the bulbs. The rain finally lifted in the mid afternoon, though that did not prevent me from five pounds of caked mud per boot.

Today I got some new raingear, having thrown out yesterday's rather than cleaning it as it was not functional. That the raingear was directly placed in a black garbage bag with the other trash, and taken down to the ground level garbage room was likely another bonus for the perps. They have shut down the garbage chute, and that means walking the garbage out. I also noted that the recycle tote bins and the dumpster were pulled out of the garbage room still, with the latter being used as some kind of makeshift room for "camping" by the faux vagrants. Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed over the energetic interactions of me and concrete, and that having operatives camp, lie down, sit, or otherwise contact concrete more directly is all part of the continuing research/harassment.

Today, I was back on the daffodil bulb sorting line, and it was a special event as a purchase of a new variety was the subject of an Agriculture Canada inspection. So far, we have processed four palettes of this new daffodil variety, scrutinizing the unloaded sacks on a conveyor for any soil clots or rocks. They had eight sorters ensuring that there was to be no soil contamination from this UK supply of daffodil bulbs. I was moved around to do sorting on both sides of the conveyor, and I noted that others came to stand in my old spot, all part of the ongoing games in attempting to stand in my precise former location on concrete. This bulb sort was "so special" that we had to place olive drab green plastic tarps underneath the working area, and double bag (plastic again) all the rock and soil lumps. We were to even let the rotten bulbs go, something that is totally opposite to what we usually do, culling out the defective ones. Anyhow, all manner of special measures were in place, and much of it related to utilizing plastic bags and tarps at greater frequencies than we normally do. Having someone sweep a broom over where I formerly stood or traversed on top of the plastic tarp is also a huge draw for the perps in choreographing my every move.

My new raingear was given to me free by the outgoing manager, and lo, if it wasn't a bright dayglo orange with reflective strips across the front and back of the rain coat. Most TI's know that the perps are rabid about getting dayglo colors in as close as possible to the victim, and today, in taking the raingear home was a huge vehicular gangstalking event. There were some 3,000 to 5,000 vehicles on the 20 minutes of highway travel, and they even were bold enough to put four to six red vehicles together in mobile formations, usually lead and followed by white and silver-grey vehicles. The perps were into heavy color formations for the mid-greys and black colored vehicles, often moving up the greyscale from white through black with at least four intervening tones. They were also heavy on the deep metallic blue vehicles in some locations, having one lead the crew bus for the first 10 minutes of travel. It was lead by a tractor trailer (white trailer) that took a circuitous route to also stay out in front for about 20 minutes of travel.

One physics researcher of the unconventional, J. K. Harms has a reasoned theory on what properties constitute dayglo colors (constructive interference). I suspect he is correct, as it fits the perp agenda/behavior with so many other of their activities. The perps make sure I cannot understand his lucid writings, keeping me cognitively impaired as to the physics of what they are up to. Which makes me wonder when next, and in what circumstances will I be using this newly acquired dayglo raingear. One can be sure that I will be the last to know; all manner of planted notions of hitting big-time money in the Athabaska oilsand projects "come to mind", but this has to be wholly planted, as keeping me broke is keeping me contained.

2150h
I have the suspicion there is much more to write about, and yet I cannot form a theme bring these into this blog posting. What I am trying to say is that the full scope of the last two day's harassment activities isn't getting as fully detailed as it could be. There has been so many feints and games going on, especially the interpersonal distance challenges that go on for no seeming reason. On the bulb conveyor line for example, of all the seven sorting personnel, they placed the red net bags the UK bulbs came in some 2' behind me, and no one else. After I was moved to a new location on the conveyor belt, they then moved these same red net bags opposite for me to see the entire time, and were adding to the pile of them incrementally as the bags were emptied of bulbs. Then the perps dropped some notion that I have always hated the sight of red mesh, and of course failed to enlighten me as to how that came about. The red mesh bags might be yet another subconscious recall prompt, but I have no way of verifying it, and don't particularly care. Just leave me alone and the cash in my bank account.

The above is another way of saying that I am running out of gas to add to this posting, and I am getting some severe pop-up sabotage in mid-word as I am typing, along with yelling at the assholes to remove them, which they won't.

Time to call this one done, and post it.

2225h
One more notion that "came to mind"; what is with all the shills and operatives placing their head onto surfaces for extended durations? In the crew bus at least one person is leaning on the rail in front of them as if totally tired and whacked out on their way to work, and others doing the same, putting their head on the conveyor belt frame (red painted steel) as if too tired to hold their head up. Other strange dudes have been leaning on utility poles at intersections, as if they need to support themselves waiting for the traffic signal to change. They even had two men at diagonally opposite corners both leaning on the nearest utility pole. Today, while headed to and from the laundry room in the hallway, a blonde woman was leaning her head on the wall, as if totally tired and unable to hold it up. More head hanging stunts are sure to follow.

Rage-ification With Brown Color Foods (+ one added paragraph )

1040h
The perps are continuing with their brown color obsession by having me infuriated at any juncture in making coffee and applying peanut butter to toast. They wouldn't let me get the package of coffee open, and kept dithering my finger control. This stunt that is regularly applied to me most mornings of the past two weeks was extended to at least a eight attempts, at which point they invoked me to become enraged at this fuckery. Getting me infuriated is their pre-eminent harassment technique, and to also note, that they control my "reactions", and ensure it is never, ever calm or deliberative. The ongoing background of noise has also been amped up, including the unerring coincidence of the most loathed chopped motorcycle noise when I have both hands busy at that very moment.

Then the perps go on to infuriate me over the peanut butter by creating clods of it in the base of the jar that roll around themselves, as if self-propelled, and "fail" to adhere to the knife. I have never had peanut butter behave like this before, but for me, all physicality is mutable should there be some harassment potential in it, all to create duress and tension, aka infuriation at these constant assaults. Today was just another morning, and it would seem that I am being prepared for the regular events of Thursdays, yoga and then gym in the afternoon. I expect a huge number of ambulatory gangstalkers today, as they attempt to correlate whatever bioenergetics assay results they have between my apartment, walking in the local streets, and the yoga practice room. Then this will repeat for this afternoon's trip to the gym. The empahsis seems to be on red dressed male gangstalkers of late, after a suitable introductory duration of 20 minutes or more.

The vision impairment fucery is also coming on strong today; the sensation of hair being stuck in my left eye is continuing since it started just out of the shower. Now, it has re-arrived to "happen" while at my desk.

1335h
This is the interim between yoga and gym; the noise parade is on along with the plasma and maser beams in my field of vision. I am wearing the track pants to both activities, these being the pair that had to be washed twice yesterday, the latter by themselves as a "lint track" erupted on them after the first washing and would not come off in the dryer. Adding tracks of lint when the clothes are supposed to get cleaner, not worse, from laundering has been going on for a few months now, only white colored lint so far. Regular readers will know of the perp's abiding obsession over laundering clothes, and that they have gone as far as to have my out-of-town brother acquire and operate a commercial laundry. And as well, it was the one business they had me "help out" with repairing dryers, and dryer motors in September 2007 on a week's outing trip that I took with my parents.

When transiting to and from yoga today I had plenty of skinheads as ambulatory gangstalkers, and with them, large numbers of the "helmet heads", the cyclists, some of them walking their bicycles on the sidewalk for crissakes. And more of the ambulatory gangstalkers are packing brown paper bags, coffee or both as portable brown color references the perps seem to need in my proximity. I also note that my black acrylic fiber underwear has now been enhanced with brown colored thread ends. Funny how that "happened" to all five pairs about the same time.


At yoga, the perps put on only women class members, and the instructor is a woman too. Normally, they put on the one guy who is OK, and then increased by one, the dude in his freaking white long johns underwear. This time we picked a card from a specialized deck about intention, and I selected one about "cleaning out the debris", that being the assholes who are hounding and abusing me. I am sure that was planned, as the card had a deep red color theme to it. And lo, if there wasn't a deep red shirt stashed about 4' away and under the chairs against the wall. One could not lose a shirt in that circumstance, and there was no way it could fit past the tight packed chairs. Anyhow, apart from removing the six or so exotic threads, dog hairs and sparkle glitter pieces that arrive on me or around me, at yoga, I still wasn't done with them. There was a 10 minute natter after class about a certain activist and book author we "happened" to know (the instructor and I), and lo, if the theme word, "trauma" didn't get mentioned. Once I departed, and was about 10' from the door, someone called out to me and showed this burgundy red shirt to me, indicating that I left it, which I didn't of course. I replied that it wasn't mine, and it belonged to someone else (har, har). For anyone else to find that shirt where it was placed meant that they were informed about it, and someone "needed" me to be exposed to the color when I was on the street. I suppose that natter time, rare as it is, was all about conditioning me to another location in the room, the opposite wall, before the shirt was pulled out for its gangstalking display purposes. It is fucking bizarre, all these feints and dodges over clothing color, and the nature of the lighting when seen. The perps are a long way from done if this is what they are fucking with.

1730h
Did I predict more harassment? And so it was, an all-out silly show. I was intending to complete a check and mail it to the income tax authorities when on my way to gym. Just as I was reaching into my briefcase to extract the check book and the stamps, the fire alarm went on, and stayed on. And of course it isn't far away, across the hallway from my front door. Regular readers will know that I am constantly hounded by noise, and/or gangstalkers when paying for anything, by debit card at the checkout or even writing out checks and putting them in envelopes. So... "I decided" (read, imposed behavior control) to keep going and write the check out, fill out the remittance form, seal the envelope, fill out my return address on the envelope, and put a stamp on it while the fire alarm was ringing the entire time. Eventually the sirens started up, but I was determined to get this done and pay my income taxes, and then post the envelope (brown and blue colored, note), on my way to the gym.

I cannot recall if this is the seventh or eight fire alarm in a year at this residence location, but the perps pulled it at the one activity they rountine fuck me over about, and that is paying by way of mailed check and remittance coupon. And the stairwell hadn't been cleaned up since last week's fire alarm that was for no genuine reason. There was a red spattered sticky substance on the floor and newspapers lying on the floor as well, seemingly stuck there. In additon, they had a rolled up carpet in the stairwell, totally illegal to place it there, the backing being visible, and brown colored too.

Once I got into the stairwell I had two thuggy dudes in front of me in varying black, white and grey colors, and then further down, a skinhead was letting in people from another floor, and then inserted himself ahead of me. For the last few floors I had this odious bobbing skinhead in front of me. At the second floor there was real smoke, and real firement no less, so I scuttled past and into the lobby and then outside were there were some 50 "residents" on either side of a central exit path to the sidewalk, where I proceeded to deal with the rest of the freakshow on my way to the gym. Outside the building, parked on the street, was a firetruck, yellow and white colored in this city. Once I was a block away, there were four more fire vehicles arriving with horns blaring. Anyhow, more freaks were in place, some of them brightly dressed in near day-glo orange and fuschia, and I eventually got to the mailbox and mailed my letter.

Proceeding further, it was like a parade almost; extra "pedestrians", four in succession wearing crimson red no less, others were sitting outside for no reason, and by walking on the N. side of the major aterial street (Yates for locals), I ended up walking past the very firehall where the firetrucks came from. And lo, if the yellow and white command vehicle wasn't returning as I passed in front. The rest of my trek to the OB Rec. Center for gym class was uneventful, save the increased gangstalkers they put ahead or behind me. They had a white boomtruck at the OB Junction, the scene of the November assault, and later, they were still digging up the road with more delivered asphalt to smooth out a small ramp for the steel plates to cover the full road-width ditch they created. Regular readers will know about the perps' intense interest in petroleum products, and having me proximate to their associated props and games. I had the usual 500 to 1,000 mobile gangstalking vehicles in color and vehicle type configurations, with greater emphasis on red colors today. At one location they arranged six red vehicles within my field of view, headed in differing directions. The arranged parked vehicles was likely the same number again, and there was more arrangements; three same crimson red vehicles with four black colored vehicles and not other colors in one apartment parking lot. There were so many same color vehicle arrangements, mobile or parked, or both together, that I gave up counting them all.

1915h
I am getting the "phenomenon crossfire"; selective overhead pounding or clunking, faux neighbor water use noise, that past-mentioned plasmic faux reflection of light beaming down on me from an impossible angle (as pictured in past blogs), and some vision fuckery, all the while reading, with plastic earmuffs on, a blog posting about JFK Jr.'s apparent sabotaged aircraft. I was obliged to pull the curtains owing to ongoing flashes across my desk and keyboard. I haven't followed the JFK Jr. case, but the circumstances of the event seems to be highly irregular in the least. Anyhow, as I was so attentive in reading an article that covered the theme words of; death, assassin, sabotage, and like skullduggery, I was put in the center of this directed activity. It should be noted that topics of this nature are always noisestalked, and often with additional phenomenon.

1930h
More phenomenon convergence; a screeching tire from outside with an overhead clicking noise at the very same instant.

2025h
A chirpy on-off siren noise has started up, and now a honking from the same noise source, ostensibly the police, but usually the perps playing games.

A new phenomenon has come to "join" in the above mentioned convergence; an electric like pulse up my leg, from my foot to the knee, and lasting a second or so. So far, it has only been on the left leg, and it will no doubt be used elsewhere if it is successful. And it is the same story as above, "happening" when I read someone's name, especially in the obituaries.

Yesterday was a heavy obituary read as my professional forester monthly publication came in the mail. There were at least two that I had met who had recently died, and others that I had heard of but didn't meet. All this was grist for the perps' mill, the noisestalking and the leg pulsing with other simultaneous events like transitory vision impairments.

2145h
Getting back to the trip to the gym; I had two incidents where someone was coming at me in close, within 2', and then breaks his conversation off and stares at me for no fucking reason. The new red hatted class member was coming at me as I had turned a corner and came into his view, he was talking to his "pal", and then crosses my path immediately in front of me, stops talking and stares at me as if I had any relevance to what he was saying to his pal. The dude doesn't even know me, but somehow knew to act this strange "for me"; bizarre to say the least.

Then on the way back, walking along the sidewalk of an aterial street, an East Indian and an Asian dude "pop out" from an entrance 8' in front of me, turning a corner to enter onto the sidewalk, and in true harassment fashion, don't look to see that there might be someone coming at them, and then when I wanted to get by, and said "excuse me", the Asian fucker turns around and stares and me, which I (read, mind controlled me) say, "I would like to get by" (because I walk so much faster than nearly everyone I encounter). This asshole made it out that he had no clue that he stepped into someone's path and then impeded them. I think we have heard this story before, if I am allowed to report these events accurately in this blog. Two days ago when coming back from the gym, and across the street from this particular event, I was returning from the gym, and there was this woman sitting on something next to an unused planter, facing my direction as I was approaching her from 30' away. She looked well dressed and appeared to be waiting for someone, though it was rather contrived. I looked at her, and she was staring at me, straight on, eyes boring into me. Then when I was some 4' away, I looked nearly sideways, and there was an oxygen tube across her face, feeding into her nose. There was no evidence of a tank I could see, but the entire arrangement was decidedly odd, as usually women of means have a vehicle at their disposal to avoid waiting in a public area outside a hairdressers. That was the day that I got my haircut, which I sure was not the factor, and more likely it had to do with the vinyl tube across her face and the oxygen feed. The perps have been unfurling my sink mat of late, and there has been other events to suggest that they are "exercising" more stunts involving vinyl and PVC of late.

In my thirties, the perps created panic attacks, and one incident had me in emergency with the same kind of setup, a narrow diameter oxygen tube. It was the first time I had seen one of these, and perhaps the above event was a replication attempt, she being the one breathing oxygen through a vinyl tube and not me. The perps have focussed some of their stunts and fuckery around my breathing, and related inhalation. By "coincidence" this is also a regular component of the yoga, and the gym class. In my analysis of the pre-overt harassment (before 05-2002) activities that I engaged in, it would seem that the perps have a problem related to pollutants taken in by my lungs, plastics and the like. As always, not my problem, so why am I involved in this ongoing abuse and harassment without consent and in outrageous violation of my civil liberites? All meted out by the same assholes who have monitored my every breath since I was born, an all out demonstration of thanklessness; fuck the victim some more (over six years now), because they screwed up.

My answer to that question is more noisestalking, seemingly coordinated with each word, and the completion of the sentence, forced typos, typo repairs, and thoughts related to all that.

The most-loathed motorcycle noise is still going strong today. There were at least 12 motorcycles on my walking to the gym and back, real ones, and not the noise-only games that go on outside my apartment, still continuing. I reckon the total count of all motorcycle noise is over 150 today, an absurdly high number when I get close to none some days. And no, there is no biker club for 5 miles, and this is not their kind of town. Somehow, the perps know I cannot stand this fucking noise, and play it for key moments in their action-at-a-distance activities, also aided by pounding the 12" of concrete floor/ceiling overhead.

And when walking to the gym and back, by dint of "coincidence" the perps arranged the same white colored redi-mix concrete truck to go past me when headed to the gym, and then again when headed home, both events taking place within a 100 yards of each other. Other road material obsessions relate to asphalt, and again, they were re-working their diggings of two days ago, making a street-wide trench that was covered in steel plates with fresh asphalt ramps for ease of vehicle tires traversing them. Regular readers will know of the perps' obsession over concrete and asphalt, and in this instance, they are digging a trench at an intersection they completed in Feburary. Two days ago it was a half street width trench, and today it is a full width trench. There has been at least five re-pavings of asphalt after their first paving, and this will invoke one more.

There seems to be something important about the color of the redi-mix trucks that the perps are working on, as the most dominant concrete delivery service in town has white colored drums with two 2' wide bands around the drum, one black colored, the other red colored. Their cab is a light yellow color. And for some reason, a new concrete delivery service has been started up with all white vehicles with some navy blue lettering on the drum and cab. There are at least two more residential towers that are going to be built within a block of my apartment, and it would seem that this is going to factor into the perps' plans for yet more exposure to concrete and all its bioenergetic interactions they are attempting to remotely assay. I note that my high school is getting a seismic upgrade, and the perps (I think) are building large concrete abuttments and staircases at the ends of the building. I am sure all this is related, and possibly because there are similar constituents of bone and concrete, and this makes their energetic distinction much more problematic. Same retort as above.

2250h
Time to call this day done, and blog off, up and down as it has been.

Four Hour Sleep

1245h
My usual short Monday night sleep record was kept intact by the perps keping me awake in bed in attempting to go to sleep, and then an inordinantly early getup time of 0700h. I reckon I had four hours of sleep. The usual parade of noisy vehicles was scripted while awake, for the hour before getting up. As soon as I got to the window and opened the curtain, why all the "traffic noise" suddenly abated and there was just the odd sedan. Nothing new there, and the likely scenario is that the traffic noise was projected and artificial, and then when the deemed causal source is investigated, then no more noise as it is patently absurd to have that much passing by at 0700h, and to have it that loud six stories up.

There were some strange dreams added into the nightime mix, nothing too dramatic or perturbing thankfully. The earlier than usual awakening has given me plenty of early online time this morning, and it fits the progression of some of my regular news and blog reading to be slowly shifted from evening time to post noon. There are certain categories of news, e.g. cinema, that were only read at the evening time going back a few months, and of late there has been plenty of morning time where this last resort of news and blogs reading has progressively been "happening" earlier each day. Not a big deal for me, just a note of the very careful goings on in this scripted life.

My perps let me in on why they are so cranked up about the dusk onset, and pull all manner of stunts then to test me all the more. This is the period at which one's vision shifts from the use of cones (see in color and detail), to predominantly rods (more light sensitive). Anyhow, it is not a big deal to me, but ask the perps and you will get a different response.

This is a Tuesday, and is my gym day, scheduled for 1430h, and when I walk a half hour to the recreation center with huge swarms of gangstalking vehicles around me, always color coordinated. There have been plenty of pictures of this in past blogs, and now it "so happens" that I "forget" to take my camera each time. Which suggests it was really only for the perps, as it seems they can co-opt cameras for their own remote energy assay purposes, even if switched off in my pocket.

The all-quiet order has gone out for abating noise, save the odd selected one added into the mix and usually timed with select, cut, paste, link and other Windows commands. I see that the perps are getting ready for more concrete pouring within my view, some 400' away, and appear to be working on getting better distance dependent readings of me and whatever energetic interaction I have with concrete. And it seems that having roads and other concrete surfaces left unused is a big deal, hence games like the library strike in town, going on for at least three weeks now. The intersection where the perps poured new sidewalks, paved and patched with asphalt, Fort and Lee streets for locals, is usually arranged to have six or more gangstalkers arranged around me each time I am returning from gym. Before completion of this street works project on my walking beat, the perps had plenty of extra "workers" standing around this intersection, and one even assigned to sit down on the concrete sidewalk while the ashpalt workers were busy all around her. It is simply amazing the degree of careful planning that goes on in scripting my life, only outdone by the need to be surrepticious and furtive. Why can't they come out of the closet? This is a question all TI's have, and there is no specific reason except the generality that whatever the objective is must be so important that they will forgo any efficiency and conduct themselves covertly instead, even if the cost and project duration is at least two orders of magnitude greater.

Now the noise has started up; the faux neighbor water usage in ons and offs, sirens, heavy duty vehicles and brake squealing. In concert, the perps have dried out my mouth, something they often do, as it seems that this facet of the brain cannot be understood in energetic terms. Hence the operatives with their mouths hanging open, eating food, moving their tongue around in their mouth, chewing gum, spitting, or otherwise displaying their mouth contents. This is the "open mouthing" habit/method, and it is near universal for those operatives that are most proximate, say, 10' or so.

1650h
I am back from gym, and have finished my tea and chocolate, always a big event for the perps in their "browning around". I had the usual color coordinated 500 to 1,000 gangstalking vehicles and at least forty parties of ambulatory gangstalkers there and back, when half that was "normal". The perps were big on orange colored gangstalkers, on the street, and two buzzing around me in the gym. The gym class was a three freak event; Fatboy, Ethnic Gut and New Bald were featuring themselves in about equal measure, meaning that anytime I looked up or around, they were planted in my vision. There were some other freaks there as too; the Regular Granny, the Down's Syndrome person and another skinhead. Of that group, Ethnic Gut and Regular Granny were on me again when I exited and was headed out. More of the gangstalkers are reprising outside, and then loitering around me when inside the gym. Fatboy was on lead-ahead gangstalk mode when I was headed to the gym for the last block. Yet another designed coincidence.

More gym gangstalkers are wearing their outside clothing inside; these Goretex anoraks and cycling jackets are still being worn when the fucker is circulating around me. And more of the fuckers are going out of their way to come by closer rather than taking the shorter route. Other games were putting on at least two gangstalkers to stare at me for no reason. And the perps kept me off the treadmill, whacking my hands for no reason except to be abusive, and the routine is that I bail on the exercise when that fuckery is applied to me. There was at least one dude parading around in his orange shirt; I couldn't quite figure out why he was acting so spaced out after having done some exercise just before. It seems that the rare energetic gangstalker also likes to strut around and do nothing at specific intervals. All part of the deal, only about 20% of them are actually doing anything at any one moment, the rest are in transit or standing around. Nothing new there since the harassment started, as I have never seen anything like it before, and I worked out in many gyms in Everett, Seattle, New York even, and other locations.

And lo, if the above mentioned Fort and Lee street intersection wasn't the site of more street works, which must be the fourth or fifth time that they have "reworked" their maintenance and upgrade of the sidewalk, crosswalk, adjacent asphalt, and on-demand pedestrian traffic control. The dudes were cutting the asphalt with a specialized cutting device, and shut it down as soon as I was proximate, and then the dude followed me with the asphalt cutter and its leading rotary blade, and then "needed" to cross the street with it, even if he hadn't finished his task at the first location. And the setup was that he shouted out to his (purported) buddy across the street and the perps managed me to jump in reaction to hearing this from close behind me when I did not expect it. And I don't jump much as I am quite familiar with all the ongoing fuckery, but the perps managed my "reaction" again, a stunt that is becoming of increasing use. Two weeks ago they used a kid to scream for no reason some 3' behind me, and again fucked me into a shocked "reaction" with a turn around to see what the source of the noise was.

On this particular project, the perps have put in new sidewalk at each corner, about 80' total, and have paved at least three times, maybe more. They even repaved over their paving, lifting up about a 2" depth and repaved this as a patch, all for no discernable reason as far as I could tell. So here they are, cutting up the asphalt, and then chasing me with the asphalt cutter. This stunt has been done before, where they walked past with the concrete cutter on their way to the work that had been completed. This project does not include the adjacent house they tore down, and having left it for at least two months, they put the excavator on today, that big yellow mass behind the green steel mest fence.

And as predicted above, the perps put on at least 10 ambulatory gangstalkers around me when I crossed the Fort and Lee intersection. This seems to be the one where they have invested the most gangstalking of all the three public works projects that "erupted" on my walk to the OB Rec. Center for gym. They even put on a wretched cyclist gangstalker, riding on the sidewalk when there was a cycle lane. Can we get any more fucking obvious than this?

And at my end of town where there is still a block long public works project in progress, seen in some of the pictures, and also augmented with pointless ashphalt patching as well, the perps have poured some more concrete for the new sidewalks, which is something they wanted me to see between the gangstalking vagrant parties they put on for the last half block. Not only were they vagrants, but also native Indians with large guts, another case of "gutstalking", with brown skin. As an accompaniment, they also put on a young attractive woman in a goofy brown hat and a light brown jacket as a seeming reference for "aura" or what ever is the reason the perps interleave the Favored (she) and the Unfavored (vagrants, brown skin (brown anything)). And to add to the moment, they also put on siren noise, and followed up with more once I got to my apartment.

And I notice that the perps are putting on more large excavation equipment around me, or other large mass vehicle. Yesterday at the lumber yard they had a forklift with a load of cedar fence sections on it and ran it past me. Today, they put on a huge Caterpillar loader for loading up the steel mesh fence for separating the street works project some 20' away. They could of used a pickup truck, but no, they had this large logging-like loader with forks mounted on it rather than a bucket. As mentioned above, they also had an excavator working behind a steel mesh fence on my outing. All were yellow colored, and I am sure this was part of the arrangement; attempting to tease out my neural yellow responses with a high mass yellow painted vehicle.

And speaking of responses and testing; the perps were flashing a red plasma beam at me as I was walking toward Fort and Lee intersection, the above mentioned locus of perp excitement over their asphalt and concrete construction. The plasma beam stayed about 4' in front of me and was pulsing about every two seconds and it did not matter where I looked, it was in the same place in my central vision. This is not the first time this has happened at this location, but it is getting fucking tedious.

Time for some unsubstantiated news, but making some very curious assertions. The author claims that the Rwanda genocide event of 1994 was directed by US military mind control aircraft, and even has some pictures of them. Then he further suggests that the same kind of activity is going on in Bagdad, particularly the looting of the antiquities. While speculative, it is interesting in that it seems to fit a pattern that I have noticed, that there are too many odd events going on that defy rational explanation.

2100h
The aspiring fim project took a new turn tonight; she came by to lay the task on me, something I thought was going to happen, as why would she write me a script and no one else? This project is detailing the lives of the residents of this Chelsea Apartments, in a fashion that Warhol did in the Chelsea in New York City. I have to pull a 10 minute script together for next week.

She did purchase the book titled the Air Loom Gang, one that I promote on the panel to the right, as it refers to organized harassment over 200 years ago, a little more on the blatant side as the regular harassors used a loom part that they directed toward their victim, James Tilley Mathews. An excerpt from the book is at this site. The concept is that I develop a script which draws from the Potemkin Village metaphor, the Air Loom Gang and my own experiences.

And while talking to her the perps were doing something horrid to me, making me feel "floaty" which means they were de-energizing my temporal lobes again. I cannot count the number of times they have done this to me, and they appear to want to do this in more critical situations for them. And for the the ten minutes she was here, they sucked the moisture out of my mouth and also added some kind of off-flavor too. Just another day dealing with the sickos.

2235h
I made some updates to the template and added some more TI stories, one being a dairy. It is unbelievable what the perps are doing to Matti Koski in Finland, and Canada before that, and it has gone on since 1979. All the while I was adding his sites to my template the perps were pounding the floor/ceiling overhead by dint of some fuckery, as it is 10" of concrete. And they were adding in street shouting and hallway sourced clunking sounds as if it were noisey locks and door closures. This is common; reading other TI's blogs or stories will always get me noisestalked in some way, and usually multiple sources.

Time to blog off for the day, and call this one done. Maybe I will get some sleep tonight, and I seemed to have not missed any sleep on account of last night's jerkaround.

Forced Pee, Sirens and then Vision Impariments

1010h
All those things in the title followed sequentially and more. A faint sustained whine noise was reason enough to put the dark green hearing protection on, then in about three minutes there was a sudden need to pee, and while in the bathroom I "discovered" there was a post-shaving facial bleed (from a pore, not a nick), an 1/8" spot of blood that had been sitting on my face for the past hour or so, and I then cleaned up. Coming back to my office chair, I get the sirens noise, then the faked neighbor water use noise, then transitory vision impairments, overhead clunking, hallway door closing noise and the usual screen of plasma and fuzzy maser balls hopping about in my vision. Too much fun for sick minds, and they do like to take blood samples, and for the first time, they aren't bothering to attach it to my shaving activity, as if it were causal, which it never has been. More than a noise flurry, more like a designed phenomenon flurry, the new name for these concentrations of activity.

1315h
I just got zapped with a simultaneous overhead floor tapping, all the more curious that the apartments have carpeted floors. And I yelled at the assholes for this, and I likely didn't have a choice (read, mind-control). This is my 50 minute break between yoga and setting off for gym class, and they are also making a lot of rumbling noise directly overhead, a noise that followed me from the kitchen to my desk, a distance of 8'. It seems it is more important that the rumbling noises be directly sourced overhead as this will happen in the same way when in the bathroom.

The perps are likely cranked up about the fact that I wore my black fleece pants to yoga, and still have them on in readiness in walking 30 min. to the gym. Last Thursday, I swapped from my thin track pants to the fleece pants immediately before setting off. Changing my weekly routine, and having me wear certain pants for the first time at a regular event, extra harassment favorable fleece especially, is the kind of event that perps get worked up about. Not that they haven't done their usual games of pissing me off and gangstalking me when walking back from yoga.

The perps even posted some furniture outside this apartment block; it had a relocation context as there was a moving van outside and the door was kept open when I left for yoga, but the context is now gone, and the furniture is still outside in the same place. No doubt it will be there when I head off for yoga, offering outside energetics to inside items. Surely they have surveilled enough garage sales for the past 30 years to figure this one out, and don't need to mess with me. But no, they still are fucking (me) around, largely because of their past substantial mistakes and current timidity in declaring themselves. Not my problem.

There were no military dressed gangstalkers on North Park St. post-yoga, while walking back. This is odd, as they were very consistent at one time in planting this kind of gangstalker. Maybe it looked too stupid, these military dudes with white plastic shopping bags strutting around. Though stupid never bothered the perps any.

I got the usual "introductory plasma" at yoga, getting there 10 min. before class. They put on countless 1' to 2' spots of blue, yellow and green in front of me, and the instructor would of seen them too, but the perps buzzed me out so "I" didn't think to look at her expression, but I am assuming she was rehearsed for this. In the yoga classroom, the perps also put up a white board on the wall, and a brown corkboard as well, even if the walls are brown colored. I got my "plastic bag" people (gangstalkers with garbage or shopping bags) when coming back; the operative color was orange colored bags, and lo, if an orange 2' diameter colored plasma beam didn't accompany me for a few seconds while the orange plastic was visible.

1340h
It wasn't enough to pound the ceiling overhead to make rumbling noise; I just got a rumbling noise delivered directly to my left ear which was most unsporting. The in-ear pounding noise has continued, and has taken on the habit of most noises, "happening" in concert with routine Windows activities of select, copy, paste, mouseclick; nothing new save the audacity of planting a foreign noise in my ear without a cover story.

1905h
I have been to gym and back, and have finished dinner, such as it was, a rare "pate day". I don't know what the perp's fixation is exactly over eating pate, but they tried in on me in 2003 or early 2004, and after one use, they accelerated mold on it to cut their experiment short. Then, just before Christmas 2007 (last month), my mother picks some up while we were shopping, and she gave the majority of it to me afterward, claiming she doesn't eat it. It was duly eaten me in early January, and nearly four weeks later, they had me buy another local specialty brand. It was good too, and no doubt it will be finished off as a mealtime protien source while I am out of chicken.

Another more venturesome dietary change was the perps are allowing me to eat kiwi fruit, something they cut me off of in fall 2006. It was a regular daily item before that, and then it was over when I changed grocery stores. It seems that the perps have a long way to go yet before I am allowed a normally varied cuisine, something they haven't permitted since they mugged me for their overt treatment in 2002.

There were the usual 600 to 1,000 vehicles on vehicular gangstalking duty when walking to the gym and back. Equi-spaced clusters of red, white and silver grey vehicles, and then later, the odd light brown, yellow or red vehicle. They were all over me at the gym, and put on the male jocularity act around me; they like to have me around social males, or more like, the noise thereof. I am not allowed any friendships in this depraved purgatory.

The two regular class freaks that are paraded around me were still on "see me" duty; Mr. Ethnic Gut (stubby, large gut, mid-Eastern skin tone) was in his street clothes today, a light tan brown even. It is very daring for the perps to dress a brownskinned person in brown clothing. Mr. New Bald was also skirting around in my peripherial vision, looking freakish as he now does, head shorn since the New Year. There were at least two more skinheads on duty, and the negro dude from two days ago was back, sans corn row hair which I totally despise. It was a big negro gangstalker day today; some nine of them all told, some doing the dumbshit shill pedestrain act of pretending not to notice me and thereby threatening to get in my way.

At the gym they had two red shirted gangstalkers on atationary equipment, one on either side of me. Both took off their respective red garments and put them on the floor beside them. And when some minutes passed of this arrangement, another (third) red shirted gangstalker arrives to work out beside me. This is getting as tedious as obvious; these red shirted dudes hanging around me.

I also got a biker like gangstalker; the leather vest, shades, unshaven and loitering around and shooting the breeze. He even followed me to another location, putting on the posing act and I kept looking at the floor. He kept inching along, attempting to get into my peripherial vision, and I moved my head away some more. Eventually he gave up on this dumbfuck game and took off. It just shows how detailed the perps are over attempting to recreate scenes from past possible traumatizations. They told me telepathically that there was a biker exposure/traumatization in Quebec (1956-7), and my dislike of vagrant types stems from this as well. No wonder the Quebec biker gangs are in the news so often, its the perps whipping them up and ensuring it gets exposure. Not my problem, why am I being fucked with over someone else's blundering stupidity?

There was more wheelchair gangstalkers, at least three for the day and a few more with those dumbshit walkers. In the latter case, walkers weren't around in 1956-7 for that year I was in Montreal and where the traumatizations were likely created. The perps are jangling me in some way to react to things like wheelchairs when I never did before. It is the same for skinheads, and the perps had three of them on me in the gym today.

The big event for the perps today was likely the big concrete pour on mid-900 View St. pictured in yesterday's blog posting. They poured 2' thick of concrete slurry, street wide (30') for some 100' of street. This is the new street construction style I have learned, or at least around here, as it was done on another adjacent street. Then they will put sand on top of the concrete and pack it down ready for a final 3" or so of asphalt. The perps put on the negro laborer again just for concrete hose handling while the slurry poured out the pipe. This is the only time I see this dude on the job in over four months, when a concrete pour is on. He was on the inside of the street work's separating fence and lo, if the perps didn't put another negro gangstalker coming toward me on the pedestrian throughway, the other side of the fence. They put on at least eight gangstalkers while I walked by this street project, beefing up my usual coverage for this big event.

On another project on my Tuesday and Thursday walking beat, the perps dug out around a two week old poured concrete curb they had put it in, and in recent practice, had a white van parked next to it, as if it were some kind of support vehicle. Yesterday's pictured mid-street sit-there 5 tonne delivery vehicle is an example of using large white surfaces and/or mass to "gangstalk" the immediate locality. On the third street project, now completed, the perps put on a remant of Tuesday's goofy gangstalk, on "stand-there" duty, having him "take notes" (their paper fixation again), in the same dumbshit yellow jacket he had on then. And of course no municipal service vehicle was around to suggest where he might of come from, like Tuesday.

I had two almost-for-sure teleported gangstalkers today; I make one look down, or and intermediary obstructing vehicle passed through, and then I look up and there they are. I sense they are testing these teleported operatives as they would of come from somewhere else, and want to determine the energetics interactions of our respective localities by measuring the energy interaction between me and the gangstalker. As mentioned in past blogs, they have a fixation over geographic location, and this seems like the begining of another long haul of fucking around at my expense.

To end today's outing, a gangstalker was in lead-ahead mode, and with a dolly of brown boxes containing bedding, who "happened" to be traversing the street with this, and "happened" to be delivering this to my apartment block, and got in the elevator ahead of me, and subsequently got off ahead of me. There were also four loitering dudes in the apartment lobby, and this was the arranged gauntlet for me to pass through with this brown box act ahead of me. It doesn't get any more blatant than this, having a homecoming posse, right into the elevator.

Taken 01-31-2008, today. A special arrangement of vehicles for when I had the camera in hand to take the second picture; there it was, a red-green vehicle special formation. A fourth red vehicle was next to the one you see in the foreground parking lot; not visible in this picture, obscured by the balcony.













This is the top end of today's street concrete pouring; the concrete being the reflective surface for some strange reason, likely plasma games fuckery. Note the excavator boom has been relocated from yesterday's pictures, even when it was not used as the concrete pouring job was on. My only guess is the perps wanted to frame some of the concrete job with the boom. They sometimes put gangstalkers close in, but apart enough to frame a "featured" gangstalker sitting further back and only visible in the space between the close-in pair. The two lights seen against the brick backdrop have been "arranged" to be particularly bright and are on all day long. This is likely for the same reasons they like to "pit-lamp" me; having me in the headlights of a stationary vehicle. Today, they even had me double "pit-lamped", in two street side vehicles, both with headlights on in the daytime.













2230h
More reading from the early stage chapters of a developing book on Thomas Townsend Brown. A fascinating story. Of interest is the minor shop talk; the term "arrested" means all body systems have stopped, but the person can still be derived in some way. Another term is the "concrete world", meaning what we know as our physical universe, the term suggesting that there are others we don't know about. And that one real life character gets transported by black helicopter with another to provide support. Interesting stuff, and who knows, it may have connection to the present circumstances in some way, like so many past events.

It is time to blog off and comtemplate a Chicken Run tomorrow, always a big gangstalk event. The perps are constraining me to half cooked chickens now, and thereby increasing my shopping frequency.

Hissing and Rumbling

1230h
The simultaneous hissing and rumbling noises are from the recycling garbage truck that arrived below, some 20 minutes after having lunch. I am now allowed to eat fruit again, and picked up a small bag of local kiwi fruit. This added "dimension" might be what all the post-mealtime digestion period noise is all about. The perps have had me off fruit since 01-2007 or so, and have only supplied it judiciously when I have visited family. They tell me there are reverse electron spins on the fructose molecules, and I have no idea if this is true or not. I was a regular kiwi fruit eater for all of 2003 to mid 2006 when I switched grocery stores when I gave up my vehicle. I even owned a farm for two years or so which had an acre in a mature kiwi plantation. Still it wasn't enough for the sadists running and ruining me, as they have experimented with taking me off fruit altogether, and are only allowing selective introductions. I was allowed to purchase kiwi fruit about three weeks ago, and then they shut it down until yesterday.

The perps had about 20 gangstalkers in the produce section when I picked up a small bag of local kiwi fruit. Immediately before that, they had some four gangstalkers around me when picking up goat's milk, about the usual number for that latter food item. One gangstalker was in a horrendous yellow jacket, and given the games that go on with that color, it wasn't a big surprise. They have likely done red gangstalkers when I pick up the goat's milk, and will likely script a brown dressed gangstalker next. All these Favored and Unfavored demographic groups (aka freakshow) are also connected in some way to the colors and patterns that I loathe, which I find out about from the "reaction" the perps plant, or else governed down my more reasonable adaptations since their possible traumatization asssociations in my developmental years. Another "who knows" supposition, as it has come from the very assholes who harass me.

1330h
More forced yawning with noise add-ons from the hallway (right side) and outside heavy duty vehicles (left side). I also get plenty of noisestalking when flossing and rubber tipping my teeth (mouth is open). On this theme of remote assay of my mouth's energetics (because it is next door to part of the brain that is behind one's forehead), the perps dried out my mouth plenty often when doing the 40 minute phone interview two days ago. They like to schedule a sustained mouth dry-out every so often, and to do this, they need to divert my attention from me and have me open my mouth. In mid-December I gave a 1 hour rundown of my helping to a newly hired paid staff member as a "brain dump" to convey what I had learned about the Excel scheduling activity I undertook. Funny how they don't ask me back anymore, even if I was an exemplary volunteer IMHO. Perhaps the perps are still evaluating my furniture interaction energetics and don't want it crossed up with me coming back too soon.

I noticed that the carpet sale helping was also modified in a similar way; for unloading the carpets the owner parked the van at the front doors that were closest to the display room, and when packing the carpets back into his van, he parked further away at the front doors some 12' distant which made no logistical sense at all. But it aided the perps to look at each activity, loading and unloading at separate, but parallel locations. The local library strike might be all about some "de-energizing break" so these sites can be remotely assayed for bioelectromagnetic interactions while dormant, and not get crossed up with continual ongoing interactions. Hence some significant road closures in the past 12 months; a ramp entrance collapsed in Oakland, and the main I-5 corridor was closed in S. California as two examples in this W. North America region. The recent snows in Vancouver could be another perp enforced respite in concrete and asphalt surface use. They have some major problems with these two substances and are totally squirrely over getting me exposed, yesterday's dumbshit jackhammering of 1 week old asphalt with a concrete curb on it was an example.

1400h
Here is what the perps did to my pillows; they dyed them some way, and this has occured progressively since I bouth them three years ago. They are basic $10 polyester fill pillows, and this seeming inert color has gradually accumulated on them. This is happening at my head, and isn't what it might look like, and doesn't smell either, nor does it wash out.












Taken 01-23-2008, 10:34:17, a week ago from my apartment and is zoomed in some. At the bottom of the photo are one white colored van, two white pickup trucks and a white SUV, all lined up together, one facing N. (bottom most vehicle, the van), and three facing S. The top two white vehicles of this cluster are parked on grass and not the parking lot, even if there is no actual access to the grassy area, and no tracks in the grass either. Simply amazing how two vehicles "arrived" on a wet grassy inaccessible surface to pair up with the regular two that frequent this small parking lot for some mysterious reason. (No tradesmen accessing them or "looking busy").

On the street portion, viewable if zoomed in, the closest side (N.), are a file of five silver grey parked vehicles with one black colored vehicle in the file, second from last. The front most vehicle of this file has the rear hatchback open with a red colored object sitting in the cargo area. On the opposite side of the one-way street is one parked white colored vehicle, and a red parked vehicle ahead and through the tree branches. One same red vehicle is proceeding on the E. bound street. And one red coated gangstalker next to a burgundy red sign is in the photo next to the last mentioned white vehicle. Another red and pink dressed gangstalker is visible through the tree branches on the upper left corner of the street. How can any of this be construed as random and normal public vehicular activity?















Taken 01-23-2008, 10:34:46, same scene as above, with a slightly different angle, revealing another white color parked car on the far side of the street, this time with a mobile white colored vehicle passing between the street parked vehicles. Did I mention that white and red colors are commonly used in association? In all, four vehicle colors; white, silver grey, black (one) and red of parked 13 vehicles total. And one one of the silver grey vehicles, in some kind of partial blend of the colors, has a large red object or blanketed object in the rear open hatchback. The only two "pedestrians" are predominantly dressed in red colors. What will my new shrink think of this, and what will be the denial script?














Taken 01-30-2008:12:01:09 (today) of the same view above. The closest street parked (N. Fort); from right to left, two black vehicles, one mid gray colored vehicle, one black vehicle and one white vehicle. On the S. side, parked vehicles from right to left and partially obscured by transiting sewage services truck and school bus are; navy blue (partially obsured by the blue-white truck), red, black and a silver grey vehicle partially obscured by the tree, left most parked vehicle. In this case, the transiting vehicles are a yellow school bus and a septic services vehicle (truck). Is there a familiar pattern, here? Read on about the PVC sewer line installation below. One white pickup truck is following the sewer services truck.














Taken 01-30-2008:12:01:16 (today). Now that the S. side street side parking is visible, there is an additional white and silver grey vehicle parked. In transit, a red pickup truck and two blued colored vehicles. For all parked vehicles there are five black colored vehicles, three white colored vehicles, and one of silver grey, mid-grey and navy blue. The transiting vehicles, apart from the two trucks, are white, red and navy blue. Funny how that works out, the transiting vehicle colors are drawn from the same colors as those of the parked vehicles, large vehicles excepted again.














Taken 01-30-2008:12:01:19 (today). A final photo from this same vantage point series; a mid-grey vehicle is transiting between the parked vehicles.














Taken 01-23-2008: 10:17:56 A general progress photo of the View St. rip up job, moving toward me from a block away and putting in new septic sewer lines, two parallel 30" buried PVC green pipe. The smaller section of 12" green PVC pipe poking out from behind the sand pile seems to be left out and turned 90 degrees from the sand buried pipe; Turning objects or facsimilies thereof orthogonally is a long noticed perp practice. Placing the sand pile partially in front of the visible pipe also emulates the buried pipe conditions. The two runs of 30" PVC green pipe are buried in the imported sand, connected to the concrete caission, under the surface of the trench (foreground, closest sunlit area). My suspicious mind, or possibly by planted thought, tells me that the perps are going to connect this pipe up to my apartment building and be the sole first user so to speak, to continue with the perps' quest of incrementally attempting to understand how brown colored things (you guess) interact with green colored things (PVC).












Taken 01-28-2008: 1425h:52 another generalized street shot of the View St. rip up, this time with the green PVC broken up and moved down street some. A wood crate has been added beside the excavator for the usual reasons the perp like to "woodstalk" me everywhere I go. Sometimes they put on a pallete carrying truck to pass by. The temporary wood retaining wall has begun to take shape in the far end of the ditch, where the recently installed 30" green PVC pipe has been installed and burried. I figure the small diameter broken PVC is a non-buried surrogate for the buried pipe. There are four seeming gangstalkers on the sidewalk, a sudden cluster IMHO.












Taken 01-30-2008, 1206h 53s. The excavator has been turned around, and the plywood retaining wall has been extended. They don't appear to be doing anything today, except put on a 5 tonne delivery truck in mid-street to "gangstalk" the adjacent excavator for 30 minutes or so until it dissapeared. I cannot think of any reason why a delivery truck with its tailgate lowered to the road surface "needs" to stop by a dormant excavator. (The excavator has been dormant for the remainder of today).













1640h
I check out MySpace for the first time, without linking from somewhere else. I look up musicians and find a favorite, Jan Arden, and the perps have greyed out her webpage there, or at least the one that I am allowed to see. Just looking up a web page of a known performer is cause enough for the absurd sabotage that keeps going on. It is no doubt their method of gradually introducing the webpage, a greyed down image because, in their depraved estimation, seeing a full color picture all at once is too much for them to cope with. Not my problem; why am I being screwed over as to what I see, and why can't you get your sick asses in front of me and explain this fucking nonconsensual human experimentation?

And that got answered with the squeak noise I routinely get from outside, and then some throat clearing from the hallway. This must be a big moment after my tea and chocolate. And it is, the manager has made his first trip up today as I write this, putting on the cellphone and voiceover from the hallway. This is the third day in succession he has made at least one "voiceover" show. So, no, that standard phrase I use to berate the perps with was typed out, and for them, that is an exciting moment.

Then I use the mouse to insert a new word into the above paragraph, and then the perps have this Blogspot application flip to a new page view, all to have me swear out loud to them, and a simultaneous smacking noise goes off inside my mouth, not related to any jaw discomfort as I don't have any. It never ends, this senseless merrygoround of being antagonized merely for their deranged notions of sport. As in fuck the victim again, as 5.5 years isn't long enough.

1720h
I just got a mild thud overhead and a simultaneous zapping at the very moment of a web page change, where there was an alien picture scrolling by. What is the perp's problem that they need to keep zapping me, as they can tell better than I can as to how much I loathe this particular form of abuse.

1925h
The hallway sneezing has started up at this post-mealtime juncture; at least four spaced about a minute apart. I had the cheese flicking again when making dinner tonight; this is the first block of cheddar that is 3 year old, as I was "forced" to buy it when there was a "shortage" of the one year old cheddar, cheaper by far. I have also suffered "shortages" to end up buying the five year old cheddar cheese, all in the same line, which I am not allowed to know at the moment. There was a time when I knew precisely the manufacturers of all my grocery products and price of every item. That capability got purged from me long ago, keeping me in the clueless court has always been a perp objective. And I am sure the colored label is also important for them too; so far, black (one year), green (three year) and navy blue (five year old) cheddar cheese. And for the perps, that is exciting stuff, having arranged these cheeses and the packaging a few years ago in readiness for my harassment visitation, still going on. As they are so obsessed over cheese, and me eating it, surely they could also drop the price of it by half, and save me money to afford the chocolate they make me purchase every month. Bizarre, and not of my doing.

2020h
A forced scratch my nose and then a loud mufflered vehicle noise followed. I am still under the microscope, and made sure that I know it. I was reading an article about "milabs", (pdf file) or military abducted individuals who are often trained in military exercises and survival training. I am not one of those, and that might be a better existence that to be constantly riled up all the time. Who knows how all this covert activity fits together at the upper reaches; there has to be more than one faction it seems, though no one has guarded me all these years like they did with Thomas Townsend Brown.

2230h
I see the above book in progress on TT Brown has advanced since I last read it, and it is fascinating. And it does point to a mysterious hidden big picture that TT Brown was aware of, and it also being outside his regular duties. And so it is time to blog off for the day, as one who is also involved in a bigger picture, but is not in any way informed as to what is going on and why am I being dragged into someone else's problem without my consent.