02-29-2020
A Leap Year moment of sudden and unexpected access to my own blog. It seems that way. I have spent the last three days attempting to get to this blog that I have been writing since 2006 by way of endless and senseless "Google verification" fuckery of unimaginable contortions, re-directions and proportions. You won't get a real person to talk to of course, but for now, and I am not out of the woods yet, I seem to be able to get to this blog and post something. And this is it. I just may not be able to post to this blog again, I don't know.
As this blog and attendant Google Gmail user ID was created in 2006, it just seems they didn't ask a whole lot of details as to how to recover one's account. Back in 2012 when I got my new cell phone account, the cell phone network required me to create a new Gmail account which I didn't want to do because I already had one, and being an IT guy, I instinctively knew having two accounts from the same outfit (Google) would create problems, and I have been absolutely correct.
In 01-2020 I managed to (somehow) get back into this account and reset the password, and now a month later, the Google Gmail/Blogger crowd, (or their puppet masters if you prefer) decided to put me through Google Verification Hell again. My regular password of a month ago, duly recorded on paper, "somehow" just didn't work. Around and around I went from the "default" account (the 2012-created one Google decided) to attempt to get back into this one. Last night I had the inspiration to make the 2006-created account the "recovery account" even if I couldn't get into it with this "verification" password blocking, and as of now, I somehow got back into TIWorld.
It has been a long round of password fucking hell to say the least. Tricks like sending my "verification code" to an email address that didn't arrive was a good trick. Giving me verification codes that didn't allow access, but instead "we are reviewing your account" (code for not happening). Even now, the account that displays on the upper right of this page is the 2012-created account, not the 2006-created account that owns this blog and desperately needs extra recovery information added. I have come to the conclusion that the Google masters have taken nearly every measure possible to stop me from accessing the 2006-created account and this blog by extension, and keep sending me to the 2012-created account which does NOT have this blog attached to it.
So.... why not merge them? Why Google, who likely yanked the chain of the cell phone carrier in the first place which created this account bifurcation fuckery, doesn't have this functionality as stated in their own FAQ. Which to me seems like a tacit acknowledgement that there are two classes of Gmail accounts depending on when they decided to embrace the "mobility" scene and hang cell phone access and all the rest of the data particulars they would of captured from the cell phone network off of Gmail accounts.
FFS Google, just allow Gmail account consolidation/merging so I can access my blog from a single Gmail account. Or this the plan; to screw me out of owning it? Besides, I don't use my Gmail account for regular email as Google likes to read other's mail as a matter of course.
All this was also precipitated by someone messing with the browser settings and not allowing persistent "cookies" which then caused me to log in each new session. Not the end of the world, but that seemed to be the excuse to kick off the latest round of fuckery whereby my password got blocked.
After all that, and while on this blog editing, I cannot get to my 2006-created account to reset the password and add more recovery details. The only clue is that it says "Sign Out of All Accounts" versus "Sign Out of Account". They don't make it easy, don't plan to, don't want users to access their own blogs (possibly selectively), don't have any real people to talk to and don't give a shit. Well done Google; only you could outdo Microsoft for creating intense user interface/interaction vexation. And I am making an assumption it is only you, not someone else jacking me around which is usually the case.
02-16-2020
I would of though that going to yoga class would be plenty of spinal flexing and twisting by the ongoing proximate gangstalking tourists for the week, but no, add in the new mobile (tractor trailer) bottling operation and the new hire at the other vineyard, and there is more. The new hire dude, tubby and a little rough around the edges, "just happened" to engage in unnecessary and extensive spinal flexing while in my proximity some 4' away. It was especially noted when I was having an infrequent break in the production line action and he sat down 4' opposite, on the roller conveyor no less, facing me and did lateral (side to side) spinal flexing. And he really got going on spinal flexing when I had a sip from my water bottle. Normally I don't need to keep it near me for this kind of work, but "for some reason" I got thirsty, placed the bottle near me on break, just when the new hire dude was re-assigned from other work further away to work near me on the production line. Funny how that "happens". I have never known anyone to do spinal flexing while on a bottling line before while they are busy handling and packing bottles. First impressions are lasting, and perhaps the new hire dude is going to be one to get under my skin all this vineyard working season. Woohoo, more work adversity, as if I haven't had enough over my working life.
Some time ago, my youngest brother was doing similar senseless spinal flexing nearby at the First Feral Family house, and I told him that is exactly what so many of the gangstalkers do, so therefore, he must be one too. He kind of blanched and ceased flexing his spine, and did so for good. So we shall see if the new-hire bearded-boy has a real need to flex his spine as part of his "natural work habit" or else was he putting on this shit just for me.
At least three others at the bottling line operation could of introduced this new-hire to me over two days, and didn't. Like WTF; why does this shit behavior persist and is so consistent. Even going back three decades, the then-wife, a fully compliant plant, also pulled this shit and I began to wonder if she was being so fucking rude on purpose. Well, as I later found out, she was. The perps constantly thwart, delay and protract the introduction of others in my orbit. Why don't they just get over it, and put name tags on these Fuckwits titled, "Gangstalker #nnn, goes by, xxxxx"? Given that the new-hire dude ranks mid-level on the Unfavored scale (male >20yo., facial hair, fat, a rude ass (as he later demonstrated apart from the aforementioned spinal flexing gangstalker habit) and is full of himself), maybe he will be the upcoming summer-long (co-worker) Unfavored test specimen for incremental inculcation in an attempt to have me "accept" such scum without immediate loathing on first sight.
This new mobile bottling line was a very smooth operation and there was little down time for a change. There was the odd hiccup, as production rate dithering, slowing or stopping it, is another one of the perp's fuckery favorites. With all the production lines on this planet, why do they need to round on me and have them mess up? Well I suppose I am a test subject, and whatever neural correlates and psychic reactions to even work flow is detectable when I am in the groove (everything is going smoothly and therefore I am relaxed some), and then I suddenly become more attentive while the slowdown causes are analyzed, all the more study fodder for all the poor souls on production lines everywhere else. Just my theory of course, but the perp's interests do seem to have a very consistent pattern.
Back to wallet "forget" fucking, now twice in two weeks; both times having me "forget" to take my wallet to the grocery store and only happening to find out at the check out with a full carry basket. Once I got back into my vehicle with the windows closed I made sure they knew I was utterly infuriated. They pulled this stunt maybe 10 years ago in the same circumstances, and now it "happens" twice in two weeks. There have been other wallet "forgets" in the interim, but none where I needed it until this latest eruption of fuckery. Regular readers and possibly other TI's will know the Psychopaths have a long running interest in my wallet's contents, the color of the bills (very colored in Canada) and the cards in my wallet.
02-19-2020
Ths Psychopaths were on the rag today, that is to say, they were fucking me with "forgets" and dropping things from my hands far beyond their "normal" harassment rate, which is of course an order of magnitude that would happen to unharassed mortals. Three forced "forgets" on turning the stove burner off/on in succession this morning, then "forgets" on taking supplements (a daily jerkaround now), then again for my Rx, and then extra insane fuckery when attempting to get out the door (boots, clothing, gear) which is a daily battle of fuckery, infuriation and delay. Then later at work, vine pruning mistakes I hadn't made for the three weeks I have been doing it this year, adding the hot-rod muffler noise of passing traffic in considerably greater frequency, incessant dog barking noise from multiple locations, an overflight by a military aircraft that had blackish emanations from it and plenty of helicopters (at least 12) etc. The assholes didn't relent all day, save perhaps the last hour of work. Then on my ass at home, getting the order of things wrong making dinner etc. -likely about 200 infuriation stunts today, well beyond their 80-100 average. What the got into the assholes today?
When this extra infuriation fuckery goes down there is usually a reason, and today "just happened" to be the day I dropped off a shit sample at the lab, and given the Psychopath's intense interest in excrement, it just might of been the event to trigger their insane minds to lay on substantially more fuckery and abuse. Longer term readers may recall when I was about to exit my vehicle at this same lab location with the same sample, they sent a negro on a bicycle at high speed about 6" past my door as I was about to open it. I could not believe it then or now as to how utterly stupid it was for a cyclist to go so fast and so close to street parked vehicles unless of course they were assured that they would come to no harm. This negro Fuckwit stalker could of moved over by 12-24" and still there would of been plenty of room for motor vehicles to get by. Never mind the rarity of negroes in this town, and the even greater unlikelihood that they would of been on a bicycle, excepting street sports events which was not the case. Funny how all these improbabilities add up all the time, isn't it?
And the last month has also been evidenced by increased sleep disruptions; heavy nap attacks after work of 1.5 to 2 hours and longer on weekends, and even throwing in some unconventional sound invasions. On two occasions I was napping, maybe only 15-20 minutes into it and drifting off into a deeper sleep it seemed, when they planted a noise to bring me out of it. This residence has no one upstairs or down or anyone else on any side, and nor does it have anyone else here, and on one of these occasions they planted the noise of someone clearing their throat. I was immediately awakened as there is no one else here, and "somehow" I was also calmed with the suggestion that "it's just the Psychopaths planting a noise again" so that I did not get up. And in this state of heightened and constant threat assessment and reaction to any and all fuckery conventional and unconventional alike, nearly running 18 years now, there is no way my normal self would of not got up and investigated the possible presence of someone in my place that somehow got past a locked door. I believe the second nap noise event was a wall pounding (of no known conventional cause), and as I get these about 6x/year I would of assumed it was them again because of its familiarity.
Funny how the sleep disruptions suddenly came on too; I was doing fine in December into mid-January on this job with 6 hours of sleep and no evening time nap attacks. Then when I switched jobs, why, the sleep disruptions came on and have persisted for at least 6 weeks now.
The weekend prior, the night before going to the walk-in clinic for an Rx refill, why, I couldn't get any sleep "for some reason". Though as "usual" I didn't suffer for the lack of sleep.
The usual situation at the walk-in clinic is to sit around in the waiting area for an hour (or more) with a presumed orchestrated gangstalking scene around me. On this occasion, a five yo. child was staring at me furtively, and twice when I looked at her, she immediately averted her gaze as if looking at me was prohibited. Probably was, but she couldn't help it. As to what she was staring at exactly I don't know for sure, but I suspect I must have some visible emanation about me as I can never figure out why I often get stared at by people whom I have never seen before.
Another Psychopathic campaign this week is to have me feel poorly while
at work in the vineyard continuing with the vine pruning. As if my ADD
stimulant Rx never kicked on one day (and I know I took them), another
day feeling like I was slowed down and weaker (also not an Rx intake problem).
Then when I get enough sleep (per pre-harassment normal), why, I still feel like hell this week. So just what are they up to and why all this sleep fuckery, which to be fair, had a sudden onset when they first invaded my apartment and went beserk/overt in 04-2002. As one TI reader noted, one may be more psychically accessible while sleeping, which accounts for the instances of more enforced sleep, aka, nap attacks. But also, the revelations of Donald Marshall, if they are to believed, suggests that there is much covert ongoing research to ensure the human clones have a tranferable/replicable conscience/awareness while the parent being is awake. Apparently, the clones do have a conscience when the parent being in REM sleep. An interesting technical issue which may have relevance to the Psychopath's relentless sleep fuckery games that I endure. This being a more speculative notion I usually entertain but possibly very relevant.
Anyhow, I am going to post this in the hope that I can gain access to this blog again on a continued basis. We shall see what the Google Verification Fuckery Maze has in store for me. I didn't expect this one, but as password keyboard entry, desktop and at the checkouts on one's debit card, is another long running Psychopathic research theme, we shall see.
Showing posts with label perp's wallet fixation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label perp's wallet fixation. Show all posts
Sunday, March 01, 2020
Thursday, January 30, 2020
Back to Pruning
28-01-2020
Back to the regular vineyard gig again, this being my first day back. As always, any new event, be it a new job, job location or even a resumption such as this, begets extra imposed fuckery. You know, the "usual" problems that vineyard pruners face, e.g. making mistakes (cutting the wrong cane). Except that I know this place, the vines, and have sufficient experience that I would not ordinarily make these mistakes. Funny how the "mistakes" rolled off after a few hours. The next day the assholes fucked me out of taking my regular ADD medications, which was when the new boss lady dropped by. (She is working at the other vineyard).
A Monday, and yoga in the evening, and in concert, an extra large crowd. So many new faces at this shit show tonight and at least 20% were utterly hopeless and if not for a practice session (my supposition, as many seem to know the next move before the instructor), I would think they would be best suited for couch surfing. So what is yoga class but a "TI Gangstalk Tour" for the invited? I was looking up alternate yoga studios, and one was attesting to their casual "vibe" and that laughter was not only common, but promoted. There ain't no laughter at the sessions I go to, just this heads down grimness, long the calling card of these orchestrated Fuckwits. Though to be fair, the staff are fine. In fact, one instructor who was making jokes, didn't last too long, even if she was cute, blonde and young.
And again at yoga, more wierds, and even compounding three profound Unfavored" features in the form of one individual; a male with tight curly hair (blonde) hair with the fugliest set of fine bluish tattoos all over his arms and some coverage on his legs. I couldn't bear to look at this multiple Unfavored freak, and yet the Psychopaths kept sending my gaze there, about three mats away.
And again, why is this class getting so full, so early? Time was that I was the first one in at 10 minutes early, but I am now pressed to find a spot leaving at my usual time. And what is with the pre-selected mat locations? One woman who came a minute or two after me, as I saw her coming through the door, (a time honored gangstalking location), just "happened" to have her studio supplied mat in place before she arrived in the practice room next to me. She put her towel on the mat, but I don't get it; how did she know the mat was there for her?
Onto the TI community. Here is a TI that managed to finish his PhD while the heat was on; individual21 -Stephen Mullet's 89pp story of how targeted abuse and arranged coincidences came down on him, and in addition, his conclusions as to the greater picture this fits into. For example, the police are a criminal organization (my own determination too, based on personal experience), and others. Some details on numeric and syntactical "coincidences", with the bottom line (mine); don't use so-called social media. Quoting from his conclusions:
Speaking of orchestrated/planted girlfriends, back before the perps went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002, they planted two girlfriends over a three year span. One stayed in circulation after the apartment invasion, and who alternately stated she wanted to help me (har, har) and then would be clearly abetting the Psychopathic torturers. And she wasn't too big on empathy when the chips were down, as they were so often in those helter-skelter days of intense and unconventional abuse. That would be Ms. C of my story, (elsewhere in the blog), and when I departed her place in 2003 with some of my belongings of my own apartment, she claimed that she loved me etc. A ridiculous proclamation to say the least, especially given her spotty track record with the truth and obvious perp abettance. To this day I cannot fathom why the Psychopaths would put on that highly absurd and transparent act for so little outcome. Because when I attempted to return two weeks later and pack up the rest of my belongings and clean out my apartment, (and also visit her) the border patrol pulled their guns on me for no reason whatsoever. So her absurd statement of fond attachment was the last time I saw her, though some emails and phone communications persisted for three more years with declining content. That is my biggest WTF moment of this whole abuse-athon of its nearly 18 years (and running). And will likely be the biggest WTF moment of my existence.
Interesting that individual21's harassment started in 2002, when mine did, as I term it, they "went berserk/overt".
01-30-2020
Onto the more mundane but repeated fuckery; the assholes lost my keys to the landlord's house I am looking after. Which meant that I took their mail to my place for safe-keeping, which is probably the plan in the first place. I just don't know what it is about mail, but the perps are berserk over it, and handling someone else's mail is cause for them to ramp up the fuckery and idiocy. Last year I picked up a parcel for the landlady, and having the same street address on my ID allowed me to pick it up for her. That event brought me all kinds of gangstalking action and a "hold-up" at the pokey, (normally not busy) PO. A "hold-up" at cashiers and public counters is my term for when they plant a Fuckwit ahead of me who has a "difficult problem" that requires extensive time to resolve. Another variant is stacking the line ahead of me with a Fuckwit/gangstalker surge, for the same reason; to keep me waiting in line for this blatant obstruction to conclude. And do the Psychopaths ever love to have me in a queue so their Fuckwits can slowly tread over top of where I was standing.
The missing keys may be findable at the location where I parked my vehicle at the vineyard; I take much care in handling my keys, and ensured they were in a zippered pocket with my car keys so they don't go missing in the vineyard or other such unfindable location. But "somehow" the keys just flipped out on their own, "somehow" unnoticed. The assholes also pulled this shit with the same zippered ski pants about four weeks ago, with a different key. I figured the key was lost for good in some vineyard location (prior gig with many vineyards), but were found in the snow once it melted near my parked vehicle at the landlord's house.
And what is it about keys that so fixates the Psychopaths? Co-workers leave their keys in ridiculous places in the vineyard (on the ground FFS), then another time, unintentionally as it seemed as I "found" her keys at her locked vehicle when I was on a weed whacking job that morning. Another time, she lost her keys at her place and another co-worker drove her to retrieve them.
Which is a segue to this same (key misplacing) co-worker who I "happened" to meet at a supermarket after work yesterday. You know, the designed coincidence; I stopped at this particular grocery store after work that I had never patronized before as it had sausages that were particularly good, and lo, she was there shopping too. As it turns out, she is pruning the other vineyard. We met with a hug, another long running perp stunt, though it was an entirely appropriate greeting in the context. (I just cannot stand these orchestrated "huggie" events the Fuckwit gangstalkers put on with such frequency in my proximity). So here I was, involved in the same.
And as it "so happens" as part of the lead-up to permit my after work grocery shopping and co-worker hug (per above), I did not have the usual urgency to get to the bathroom after work. For the past two weeks, it has been such that I need to get to the crapper within a minute or less of my return to my residence, every work day. This is highly unusual timing, especially the forced bowel movements, and the assholes usually don't permit me to remove my ski pants (over my running tights as long underwear), or my large boots. One day they even pulled a double; a forced crap as I was about to head out the door, forcing me to remove my coat, though without sufficient time to remove my ski pants or boots. Then when I came home that same day, another forced crap similarly attired given the imposed urgency. The Psychopaths insane and relentless fixation in defecating and shit is limitless. And I don't think it is just me, given the profusion of street crapping in California that has been making the news for the last few months. It was to the degree that it even spawned an app for one's phone spotting the latest crap locations.
Then if the fuckery over losing the keys today wasn't enough, the assholes struck again this evening with another stunt; the "forget the wallet" jerkaround. And of course I was caught out big time as I had a basket full of groceries that I was about to pay for, and lo, no fucking wallet. I am sick fucking fed up of the insane fuckery over what is in my wallet, and the forced "forget" games over having it on my person. Just leave me the fuck alone, I have had enough. And if you really want to unpack my grocery basket for me, just come by, introduce yourself and wave a $1000 bill and I won't ask any questions, as much as would like to. You fucking insane assholes.
Speaking of that gangstalking hole, the SOF supermarket and their heads-down staff, what was the point of that ridiculous cough-stalking Fuckwit last week? A male ponytail (in grey FFS) was walking toward me in a store aisle that I frequent as my last shopping before the checkout, and here he was doing this fake cough with a consistent tone while walking along for at least 30'. It was like; I don't stop for throat clearing, because I am not really here for shopping anyhow (no basket), and besides, my throat wasn't that bad anyhow but needed to keep up the noise trace. If I was allowed to be witty, I should of told him to keep his Corona virus to himself (a joke).
I reckon that perambulating throat clearing Fuckwit was an paid operative; they cannot rely on locals to look so absurd, never mind being able to keep a throat clearing act going for so long and consistent in tone. I have known the Psychopaths to screw with my throat function many thousands of times, at the most strangest of times, and even when on the move. I doubt if they would entrust a local person to pull this off the way they wanted, and too, reveal another of their invasive stunts; we can fuck with your throat, mucus in your throat and/or your vocal cords anytime or anywhere we want.
And what was with the dog barking coverage today? For at least two hours in the morning, a distant big dog bark that kept up. Later in the afternoon, the Pyrenees belonging to a vineyard house about 80m away, and kept in a pen, kept up the barking for at least an hour. Said dog's owner was there all the time, but she just put it outside in the pen and let it bark. Sometimes they let it out and the dog comes by and we play for a short span. And with no tractor activity these days, and the owner home, why didn't they let it out? They know I like the dog and it is no problem. (Or at least, none that I will confess to, protecting the dog's reputation and not saying anything about his tendency to chew on the vines to get my attention and keep the game going).
I met my new boss lady two days ago, in keeping with the Psychopath managed game of incremental introduction. Going back a few weeks ago I asked the vacationing boss via email who was my new foreman (woman as it turned out) and he didn't reply for a week. Another winery person I asked didn't know, and took three days to return my text. I finally got a name and a number and called the next day, introducing myself on her voice mail. A few days later I got a return call and negotiated which vineyard I was to work in. She said that she would come by Tuesday, after I started Monday, which she did. So all this back and forthing, voice mail and finally meeting took at least ten days. This kind of "incremental introduction", typically of someone I will have a longer association with, is straight out the Psychopath's playbook. In fact, nearly all my introductions to others have been like this since they went berserk/overt in 04-2002, and likely many before. Another variant is to have others talk the person up with name-dropping before I meet them.
Enough for a posting I reckon, as my regular weekly schedule seems to be getting interfered with.
Back to the regular vineyard gig again, this being my first day back. As always, any new event, be it a new job, job location or even a resumption such as this, begets extra imposed fuckery. You know, the "usual" problems that vineyard pruners face, e.g. making mistakes (cutting the wrong cane). Except that I know this place, the vines, and have sufficient experience that I would not ordinarily make these mistakes. Funny how the "mistakes" rolled off after a few hours. The next day the assholes fucked me out of taking my regular ADD medications, which was when the new boss lady dropped by. (She is working at the other vineyard).
A Monday, and yoga in the evening, and in concert, an extra large crowd. So many new faces at this shit show tonight and at least 20% were utterly hopeless and if not for a practice session (my supposition, as many seem to know the next move before the instructor), I would think they would be best suited for couch surfing. So what is yoga class but a "TI Gangstalk Tour" for the invited? I was looking up alternate yoga studios, and one was attesting to their casual "vibe" and that laughter was not only common, but promoted. There ain't no laughter at the sessions I go to, just this heads down grimness, long the calling card of these orchestrated Fuckwits. Though to be fair, the staff are fine. In fact, one instructor who was making jokes, didn't last too long, even if she was cute, blonde and young.
And again at yoga, more wierds, and even compounding three profound Unfavored" features in the form of one individual; a male with tight curly hair (blonde) hair with the fugliest set of fine bluish tattoos all over his arms and some coverage on his legs. I couldn't bear to look at this multiple Unfavored freak, and yet the Psychopaths kept sending my gaze there, about three mats away.
And again, why is this class getting so full, so early? Time was that I was the first one in at 10 minutes early, but I am now pressed to find a spot leaving at my usual time. And what is with the pre-selected mat locations? One woman who came a minute or two after me, as I saw her coming through the door, (a time honored gangstalking location), just "happened" to have her studio supplied mat in place before she arrived in the practice room next to me. She put her towel on the mat, but I don't get it; how did she know the mat was there for her?
Onto the TI community. Here is a TI that managed to finish his PhD while the heat was on; individual21 -Stephen Mullet's 89pp story of how targeted abuse and arranged coincidences came down on him, and in addition, his conclusions as to the greater picture this fits into. For example, the police are a criminal organization (my own determination too, based on personal experience), and others. Some details on numeric and syntactical "coincidences", with the bottom line (mine); don't use so-called social media. Quoting from his conclusions:
Once again, I have done the impossible. I have proven convincingly that the U.S. government is behind nearly every mass shooting and terrorist attack on U.S. soil, and even those occurring in other nations. Considering the sheer number of shootings, terrorist attacks, and homicides I have proven in this post, and then considering all those I have not yet addressed but have confirmed to be manipulated, we can reasonably infer that the US government is orchestrating the socio-political and cultural order through the strategic manipulation of events, including major terrorist attacks, celebrity deaths, high profile legal cases, and more, in order to control the unfolding of history as we proceed towards the New World Order, and the utopian one world government."Proved" is a stretch IMHO, but worth a read. I have yet to be convinced of a "one world government" master plan by anyone, but perhaps I am being contrary on this one. And as a footnote to other complaints he has stated in the document I have a warning for hm; if you suspect your girl action is orchestrated, termed as "police snitches", then prepare yourself for similar related issues that come down, e.g. no libido, no functional ephemeral bone etc.
In this 89 page document, I have shattered the sacred beliefs of the American ideological system. Liberty is a lie. The American dream is a lie. Capitalism and the free market are lies. America is fundamentally a planned economy and social order. The powers that be have merely deceived the public into believing that the socio-political order is being governed by the invisible hand. In reality, it’s the government that controls everyone’s fortune. The government has determined everything you are, everything you have ever accomplished, and everything you will ever accomplish. This restraint upon the liberty rights of the populace appears to be accomplished through ties to the education system, workplace, interest groups, and other social outlets through the COPS program.
Speaking of orchestrated/planted girlfriends, back before the perps went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002, they planted two girlfriends over a three year span. One stayed in circulation after the apartment invasion, and who alternately stated she wanted to help me (har, har) and then would be clearly abetting the Psychopathic torturers. And she wasn't too big on empathy when the chips were down, as they were so often in those helter-skelter days of intense and unconventional abuse. That would be Ms. C of my story, (elsewhere in the blog), and when I departed her place in 2003 with some of my belongings of my own apartment, she claimed that she loved me etc. A ridiculous proclamation to say the least, especially given her spotty track record with the truth and obvious perp abettance. To this day I cannot fathom why the Psychopaths would put on that highly absurd and transparent act for so little outcome. Because when I attempted to return two weeks later and pack up the rest of my belongings and clean out my apartment, (and also visit her) the border patrol pulled their guns on me for no reason whatsoever. So her absurd statement of fond attachment was the last time I saw her, though some emails and phone communications persisted for three more years with declining content. That is my biggest WTF moment of this whole abuse-athon of its nearly 18 years (and running). And will likely be the biggest WTF moment of my existence.
Interesting that individual21's harassment started in 2002, when mine did, as I term it, they "went berserk/overt".
01-30-2020
Onto the more mundane but repeated fuckery; the assholes lost my keys to the landlord's house I am looking after. Which meant that I took their mail to my place for safe-keeping, which is probably the plan in the first place. I just don't know what it is about mail, but the perps are berserk over it, and handling someone else's mail is cause for them to ramp up the fuckery and idiocy. Last year I picked up a parcel for the landlady, and having the same street address on my ID allowed me to pick it up for her. That event brought me all kinds of gangstalking action and a "hold-up" at the pokey, (normally not busy) PO. A "hold-up" at cashiers and public counters is my term for when they plant a Fuckwit ahead of me who has a "difficult problem" that requires extensive time to resolve. Another variant is stacking the line ahead of me with a Fuckwit/gangstalker surge, for the same reason; to keep me waiting in line for this blatant obstruction to conclude. And do the Psychopaths ever love to have me in a queue so their Fuckwits can slowly tread over top of where I was standing.
The missing keys may be findable at the location where I parked my vehicle at the vineyard; I take much care in handling my keys, and ensured they were in a zippered pocket with my car keys so they don't go missing in the vineyard or other such unfindable location. But "somehow" the keys just flipped out on their own, "somehow" unnoticed. The assholes also pulled this shit with the same zippered ski pants about four weeks ago, with a different key. I figured the key was lost for good in some vineyard location (prior gig with many vineyards), but were found in the snow once it melted near my parked vehicle at the landlord's house.
And what is it about keys that so fixates the Psychopaths? Co-workers leave their keys in ridiculous places in the vineyard (on the ground FFS), then another time, unintentionally as it seemed as I "found" her keys at her locked vehicle when I was on a weed whacking job that morning. Another time, she lost her keys at her place and another co-worker drove her to retrieve them.
Which is a segue to this same (key misplacing) co-worker who I "happened" to meet at a supermarket after work yesterday. You know, the designed coincidence; I stopped at this particular grocery store after work that I had never patronized before as it had sausages that were particularly good, and lo, she was there shopping too. As it turns out, she is pruning the other vineyard. We met with a hug, another long running perp stunt, though it was an entirely appropriate greeting in the context. (I just cannot stand these orchestrated "huggie" events the Fuckwit gangstalkers put on with such frequency in my proximity). So here I was, involved in the same.
And as it "so happens" as part of the lead-up to permit my after work grocery shopping and co-worker hug (per above), I did not have the usual urgency to get to the bathroom after work. For the past two weeks, it has been such that I need to get to the crapper within a minute or less of my return to my residence, every work day. This is highly unusual timing, especially the forced bowel movements, and the assholes usually don't permit me to remove my ski pants (over my running tights as long underwear), or my large boots. One day they even pulled a double; a forced crap as I was about to head out the door, forcing me to remove my coat, though without sufficient time to remove my ski pants or boots. Then when I came home that same day, another forced crap similarly attired given the imposed urgency. The Psychopaths insane and relentless fixation in defecating and shit is limitless. And I don't think it is just me, given the profusion of street crapping in California that has been making the news for the last few months. It was to the degree that it even spawned an app for one's phone spotting the latest crap locations.
Then if the fuckery over losing the keys today wasn't enough, the assholes struck again this evening with another stunt; the "forget the wallet" jerkaround. And of course I was caught out big time as I had a basket full of groceries that I was about to pay for, and lo, no fucking wallet. I am sick fucking fed up of the insane fuckery over what is in my wallet, and the forced "forget" games over having it on my person. Just leave me the fuck alone, I have had enough. And if you really want to unpack my grocery basket for me, just come by, introduce yourself and wave a $1000 bill and I won't ask any questions, as much as would like to. You fucking insane assholes.
Speaking of that gangstalking hole, the SOF supermarket and their heads-down staff, what was the point of that ridiculous cough-stalking Fuckwit last week? A male ponytail (in grey FFS) was walking toward me in a store aisle that I frequent as my last shopping before the checkout, and here he was doing this fake cough with a consistent tone while walking along for at least 30'. It was like; I don't stop for throat clearing, because I am not really here for shopping anyhow (no basket), and besides, my throat wasn't that bad anyhow but needed to keep up the noise trace. If I was allowed to be witty, I should of told him to keep his Corona virus to himself (a joke).
I reckon that perambulating throat clearing Fuckwit was an paid operative; they cannot rely on locals to look so absurd, never mind being able to keep a throat clearing act going for so long and consistent in tone. I have known the Psychopaths to screw with my throat function many thousands of times, at the most strangest of times, and even when on the move. I doubt if they would entrust a local person to pull this off the way they wanted, and too, reveal another of their invasive stunts; we can fuck with your throat, mucus in your throat and/or your vocal cords anytime or anywhere we want.
And what was with the dog barking coverage today? For at least two hours in the morning, a distant big dog bark that kept up. Later in the afternoon, the Pyrenees belonging to a vineyard house about 80m away, and kept in a pen, kept up the barking for at least an hour. Said dog's owner was there all the time, but she just put it outside in the pen and let it bark. Sometimes they let it out and the dog comes by and we play for a short span. And with no tractor activity these days, and the owner home, why didn't they let it out? They know I like the dog and it is no problem. (Or at least, none that I will confess to, protecting the dog's reputation and not saying anything about his tendency to chew on the vines to get my attention and keep the game going).
I met my new boss lady two days ago, in keeping with the Psychopath managed game of incremental introduction. Going back a few weeks ago I asked the vacationing boss via email who was my new foreman (woman as it turned out) and he didn't reply for a week. Another winery person I asked didn't know, and took three days to return my text. I finally got a name and a number and called the next day, introducing myself on her voice mail. A few days later I got a return call and negotiated which vineyard I was to work in. She said that she would come by Tuesday, after I started Monday, which she did. So all this back and forthing, voice mail and finally meeting took at least ten days. This kind of "incremental introduction", typically of someone I will have a longer association with, is straight out the Psychopath's playbook. In fact, nearly all my introductions to others have been like this since they went berserk/overt in 04-2002, and likely many before. Another variant is to have others talk the person up with name-dropping before I meet them.
Enough for a posting I reckon, as my regular weekly schedule seems to be getting interfered with.
Sunday, February 04, 2018
Thwarted Awakening Again
01-30-2018
Another thwarted awakening when planned, similar to last week. Today, though a Tuesday, was the first work day of this week, as was Monday last week. In both instances, the alarm clock, though set, somehow was turned off. Today, they let me get up an hour early instead of two; last week they gave me a whole 5 minutes of advance notice. This isn't the first time they have pulled this over the 15 years of this insane harassment and abuse, and likely won't be the last. I reckon they didn't want me showered and shaved, always a major deal for the perps, though today there was enough time for me to make and eat breakfast and make my lunch and get ready for work. I know they like to change up the combinations of activities, and each (food digestion, shaving, showering) has its own energy signature, and it would seem they like to play with each. After 47 years of covert abuse and surveillance, and now 15 years of overt and much more abuse and enragement, one would think they would throw in the towel and give it up. But no, they are legion, they can swap out abusers, and they are patient as they are psychopathically deranged and organized. Most TI's know this, though I am not sure they get the degree of interference and abuse that I get on a regular basis. It is different for every victim I suspect.
Yoga turned overpopulated last night, my return after getting screwed out of going last week. That meant I had yogis on four sides of me, unusual in that I rarely have someone in front of me as I am near the front. Anyhow, this young woman snuck in at the last moment to block my view in the mirrors, an escalation of the usual fuckery. (Side mirrors are nearly always blocked). The woman on my R had a seriously dense case of tattoos on her arms, and it has been made quite plain to me, the perps want to me to see this Unfavored Feature all too often. The young women in front and on my L side had more discreet tattoos, slowly revealed as the class progressed. One guy had a serious tattoo outbreak down his leg, made all the more notable by the baggy shorts he wore, another Unfavored Feature I have come to loathe despite its popularity.
The yoga business owner gave the class, which I thought was rather irregular in that she had a wrist brace on her sprained wrist. I thought this was peculiar as she has the authority to direct whomever to lead the class, usually students going by past classes. But no, the owner gives the class for whatever reason. Another of those "I don't get it" events.
Another "I don't get it" was that the perps kept hammering me with planted notions of their current theme that they are going to cease harassment and abuse hostilities. They had slacked off on this campaign for the prior week, but suddenly turned it on during yoga, my first class in two weeks. Funny how they must suddenly lay on this nonsense at times, and then back off.
I saw a documentary on Amy Winehouse on Netflix recently; I just cannot believe how she was hounded by the paparazzi, even when she wasn't well. And to boot, she was bulimic and no one seemed to be taking charge of the whole show. Another famous bulimic, Princess Diana was also hounded to the grave by the paparazzi. Just what is it that the press smells and has to harass the living piss out of well known people. The media just seems like such an insensitive shit show designed for a macabre outcome; like the fox hound hunting they banned in the UK. Instead, they do it to an exceptionally talented musician, and then blame her. And her whole management seemed like such a fumbling bunch of fools, though not to the level of foolhardy, but dysfunctional about conserving her health.
I was to be connected to an new ISP today, but as it "happened", the line from the street to the house is broken, so it didn't get completed. What could of taken an hour, took two, and still no result. Funny how these things "happen". It must be a perp method/mantra; never do anything unless it can be done by halves" (partially). So the new fibre connection box was installed and the modem too, but no service. Thankfully I didn't shut the regular service down, so who knows when this is going to get fixed.
02-01-2018
More games with appointment times; two of them in one look at my email; one for Feb. 08, and the second for 0800h on Feb. 15. Farting around with "8" now; how more tedious does this get? It is bad enough that they jack with my appointment times, pulling day-before change ups; one on this year so far.
A visit to the incision doctor this morning; my basal sarcoma spot on my forehead needs to be done in a hospital as it turns out. Another appointment. A small scab that never heals on my R ear was attended to, and the freezing was the biggest pain, being an injection that he didn't tell me about coming, euphemistically telling me it was a freezing agent. Another appointment for the biopsy results.
The computer repair shop phoned today to tell me that my spare computer, one that I wanted to convert to Linux for exploration purposes, has a motherboard problem and is unfixable. As it is a proprietary manufacture, it is unlikely that a third party mobo is available. I will have to look into it; for a used computer it didn't fare well; new drive, added a video card, and now the mobo has failed. Nice case though.
02-02-2018
Another day of pulling vine canes for the propagation collection job. The bowel issues came on, but nothing messy. I felt slightly nauseous all day though. And for three days in succession, a sudden need for a bowel movement the instant I was in the door of my residence. I still didn't feel well and laid down for an hour, and still feel only marginally better. For the better part of last year I had to take a piss almost immediately after getting home from work in the vineyard. Now that is "solved", possibly with a certain medication I take, and now the same deal all over again, this time with my bowels. Try telling a doctor that it is a dopamine deficiency problem. I am not even going to attempt it, but I see that GI issues figure predominantly in another dopamine deficient subpopulation (or cohort), Parkinson's Disease patients. That and nausea too, plus a host of other complaints that I have mentioned in past blog postings. Don't ask me where this is all going, as I have no idea.
As mentioned in this 12-2017 posting, the wacko-shrink jerked my ass around and declared that I had a dopamine surplus when I had a SPECT scan diagnosing ADD (=dopamine deficiency) and a urine test which indicated dopamine deficiency. I still cannot figure out if the shrink was playing up being a wacko, or was authentically one. His line when he greeted me at the third and last visit was "congratulations, you have never been in more control in your life" (with no further explanation) still resonates as the all time whacked out shrink statement. As to what he was alluding to, or as to why he was hamming it up to demonstrate his whack-iness credibility is unknown to me, though I still ponder it. The same difference to me though; an blatant obstruction of needed medical care, specifically to address dopamine deficiency. Interestingly, and uncharacteristically for a shrink, he had no medication to offer. In other words, he didn't want to be proven wrong, another way of saying "don't come back". He also was keen that I seek a second opinion, something I have never heard any doctor say before.
That act of this theater of the absurd has yet to be resolved of course, and I am getting stalled out on this one too; it seems the one clinic that could do some useful testing responds once per week, and the US clinic hasn't responded at all, now two weeks. Same old, same old; medical care obstruction continues as it so often has, especially last year's epic stunt, mentioned above. And what is the point of that? Why not just depress the hell out of me, by way of remotely applied demotivation, which they can do handily, so I don't get on to these matters instead of hitting a brick wall with these constitutionally inept clinicians who make a point of not listening, or else, not doing anything.
And the planted notion from the perps is that they are going to cease hostilities soon, and are winding things up, and don't wish to engage in new initiatives. And if one believes that after nearly 16 years of this relentless abuse and harassment, on top of 47 years of covert surveillance and orchestrating my existence, you must be smoking something strange. These assholes do not give up; they are relentless as they are organized as they are deranged.
No word from the viticulture outfit that interviewed me for a full time job two weeks ago; a puffball interview if there ever was. After the fact, I assumed it was either some kind of orchestrated stunt, or else they had someone else in mind and it was a forgone exercise in futility. Of course I don't know for sure, but I do slightly favor the first explanation, given the near-smirks I was getting from the two interviewers. Given that the owner of the regular vineyard I worked at last year, and to be shortly this year, is building a house, it just seems that this might be the perp's form of payoff which requires a multi-season commitment. I cannot recall the number of "outbreaks" in my work or living vicinity where a new building is going up. From towers (both at work and at my residence when I lived in Seattle), to even my former employer who also built a house. (I worked there two seasons). The question is, just how long in advance do they plan these rather significant pay-outs?
02-04-2018
A return of the night time brutal leg cramps last night. I haven't had these for at least 8 months, but suddenly it came back with avengence. I was pacing the floor for at least 15 minutes to work through the cramp. And here we go again; dopamine deficient patients suffer this very problem. And can I get this attended to? No; the health care Gestapo has decided I need to suffer some more. As if 15 years of being the subject of this senseless and relentless abuse-athon isn't enough.
Out and about today; somehow I "forgot" that washing my vehicle was a major Fuckover event. Meaning that the assholes were all over me at the bank, and then following that, at LD store, hounding my ass in every aisle. The bank visit was something else; three young dudes as the cashiers, and I went to the cashier as I had to sort out why my new bank card could not be activated. Well as it "happened" he couldn't get it activated either, and when visible on his monitor, he said the card was closed. So I asked him, "you mean to say that the bank sent me a new card to be activated that was already closed?" To which he said "yes". Gotcha; nice to embarass somebody (the bank) over their ineptitude. Though in fact, I am sure it was the perps up to something; like their infatuation with my wallet contents, including this bank card I couldn't use that I kept in my wallet until finding out it was useless on arrival.
I notice I have more energy today, though I don't know why; perhaps the perps are doing something to me to finally get me out of the dysthymic state they have kept me in for the last 60 years. How big of them; I rather be fucking dead than live under the heel of these insane psychopathic assholes. No choice in that.
Anyhow, enough said for the week, and onto a new gig, though it will be pruning in the vineyard, and nothing new there.
Another thwarted awakening when planned, similar to last week. Today, though a Tuesday, was the first work day of this week, as was Monday last week. In both instances, the alarm clock, though set, somehow was turned off. Today, they let me get up an hour early instead of two; last week they gave me a whole 5 minutes of advance notice. This isn't the first time they have pulled this over the 15 years of this insane harassment and abuse, and likely won't be the last. I reckon they didn't want me showered and shaved, always a major deal for the perps, though today there was enough time for me to make and eat breakfast and make my lunch and get ready for work. I know they like to change up the combinations of activities, and each (food digestion, shaving, showering) has its own energy signature, and it would seem they like to play with each. After 47 years of covert abuse and surveillance, and now 15 years of overt and much more abuse and enragement, one would think they would throw in the towel and give it up. But no, they are legion, they can swap out abusers, and they are patient as they are psychopathically deranged and organized. Most TI's know this, though I am not sure they get the degree of interference and abuse that I get on a regular basis. It is different for every victim I suspect.
Yoga turned overpopulated last night, my return after getting screwed out of going last week. That meant I had yogis on four sides of me, unusual in that I rarely have someone in front of me as I am near the front. Anyhow, this young woman snuck in at the last moment to block my view in the mirrors, an escalation of the usual fuckery. (Side mirrors are nearly always blocked). The woman on my R had a seriously dense case of tattoos on her arms, and it has been made quite plain to me, the perps want to me to see this Unfavored Feature all too often. The young women in front and on my L side had more discreet tattoos, slowly revealed as the class progressed. One guy had a serious tattoo outbreak down his leg, made all the more notable by the baggy shorts he wore, another Unfavored Feature I have come to loathe despite its popularity.
The yoga business owner gave the class, which I thought was rather irregular in that she had a wrist brace on her sprained wrist. I thought this was peculiar as she has the authority to direct whomever to lead the class, usually students going by past classes. But no, the owner gives the class for whatever reason. Another of those "I don't get it" events.
Another "I don't get it" was that the perps kept hammering me with planted notions of their current theme that they are going to cease harassment and abuse hostilities. They had slacked off on this campaign for the prior week, but suddenly turned it on during yoga, my first class in two weeks. Funny how they must suddenly lay on this nonsense at times, and then back off.
I saw a documentary on Amy Winehouse on Netflix recently; I just cannot believe how she was hounded by the paparazzi, even when she wasn't well. And to boot, she was bulimic and no one seemed to be taking charge of the whole show. Another famous bulimic, Princess Diana was also hounded to the grave by the paparazzi. Just what is it that the press smells and has to harass the living piss out of well known people. The media just seems like such an insensitive shit show designed for a macabre outcome; like the fox hound hunting they banned in the UK. Instead, they do it to an exceptionally talented musician, and then blame her. And her whole management seemed like such a fumbling bunch of fools, though not to the level of foolhardy, but dysfunctional about conserving her health.
I was to be connected to an new ISP today, but as it "happened", the line from the street to the house is broken, so it didn't get completed. What could of taken an hour, took two, and still no result. Funny how these things "happen". It must be a perp method/mantra; never do anything unless it can be done by halves" (partially). So the new fibre connection box was installed and the modem too, but no service. Thankfully I didn't shut the regular service down, so who knows when this is going to get fixed.
02-01-2018
More games with appointment times; two of them in one look at my email; one for Feb. 08, and the second for 0800h on Feb. 15. Farting around with "8" now; how more tedious does this get? It is bad enough that they jack with my appointment times, pulling day-before change ups; one on this year so far.
A visit to the incision doctor this morning; my basal sarcoma spot on my forehead needs to be done in a hospital as it turns out. Another appointment. A small scab that never heals on my R ear was attended to, and the freezing was the biggest pain, being an injection that he didn't tell me about coming, euphemistically telling me it was a freezing agent. Another appointment for the biopsy results.
The computer repair shop phoned today to tell me that my spare computer, one that I wanted to convert to Linux for exploration purposes, has a motherboard problem and is unfixable. As it is a proprietary manufacture, it is unlikely that a third party mobo is available. I will have to look into it; for a used computer it didn't fare well; new drive, added a video card, and now the mobo has failed. Nice case though.
02-02-2018
Another day of pulling vine canes for the propagation collection job. The bowel issues came on, but nothing messy. I felt slightly nauseous all day though. And for three days in succession, a sudden need for a bowel movement the instant I was in the door of my residence. I still didn't feel well and laid down for an hour, and still feel only marginally better. For the better part of last year I had to take a piss almost immediately after getting home from work in the vineyard. Now that is "solved", possibly with a certain medication I take, and now the same deal all over again, this time with my bowels. Try telling a doctor that it is a dopamine deficiency problem. I am not even going to attempt it, but I see that GI issues figure predominantly in another dopamine deficient subpopulation (or cohort), Parkinson's Disease patients. That and nausea too, plus a host of other complaints that I have mentioned in past blog postings. Don't ask me where this is all going, as I have no idea.
As mentioned in this 12-2017 posting, the wacko-shrink jerked my ass around and declared that I had a dopamine surplus when I had a SPECT scan diagnosing ADD (=dopamine deficiency) and a urine test which indicated dopamine deficiency. I still cannot figure out if the shrink was playing up being a wacko, or was authentically one. His line when he greeted me at the third and last visit was "congratulations, you have never been in more control in your life" (with no further explanation) still resonates as the all time whacked out shrink statement. As to what he was alluding to, or as to why he was hamming it up to demonstrate his whack-iness credibility is unknown to me, though I still ponder it. The same difference to me though; an blatant obstruction of needed medical care, specifically to address dopamine deficiency. Interestingly, and uncharacteristically for a shrink, he had no medication to offer. In other words, he didn't want to be proven wrong, another way of saying "don't come back". He also was keen that I seek a second opinion, something I have never heard any doctor say before.
That act of this theater of the absurd has yet to be resolved of course, and I am getting stalled out on this one too; it seems the one clinic that could do some useful testing responds once per week, and the US clinic hasn't responded at all, now two weeks. Same old, same old; medical care obstruction continues as it so often has, especially last year's epic stunt, mentioned above. And what is the point of that? Why not just depress the hell out of me, by way of remotely applied demotivation, which they can do handily, so I don't get on to these matters instead of hitting a brick wall with these constitutionally inept clinicians who make a point of not listening, or else, not doing anything.
And the planted notion from the perps is that they are going to cease hostilities soon, and are winding things up, and don't wish to engage in new initiatives. And if one believes that after nearly 16 years of this relentless abuse and harassment, on top of 47 years of covert surveillance and orchestrating my existence, you must be smoking something strange. These assholes do not give up; they are relentless as they are organized as they are deranged.
No word from the viticulture outfit that interviewed me for a full time job two weeks ago; a puffball interview if there ever was. After the fact, I assumed it was either some kind of orchestrated stunt, or else they had someone else in mind and it was a forgone exercise in futility. Of course I don't know for sure, but I do slightly favor the first explanation, given the near-smirks I was getting from the two interviewers. Given that the owner of the regular vineyard I worked at last year, and to be shortly this year, is building a house, it just seems that this might be the perp's form of payoff which requires a multi-season commitment. I cannot recall the number of "outbreaks" in my work or living vicinity where a new building is going up. From towers (both at work and at my residence when I lived in Seattle), to even my former employer who also built a house. (I worked there two seasons). The question is, just how long in advance do they plan these rather significant pay-outs?
02-04-2018
A return of the night time brutal leg cramps last night. I haven't had these for at least 8 months, but suddenly it came back with avengence. I was pacing the floor for at least 15 minutes to work through the cramp. And here we go again; dopamine deficient patients suffer this very problem. And can I get this attended to? No; the health care Gestapo has decided I need to suffer some more. As if 15 years of being the subject of this senseless and relentless abuse-athon isn't enough.
Out and about today; somehow I "forgot" that washing my vehicle was a major Fuckover event. Meaning that the assholes were all over me at the bank, and then following that, at LD store, hounding my ass in every aisle. The bank visit was something else; three young dudes as the cashiers, and I went to the cashier as I had to sort out why my new bank card could not be activated. Well as it "happened" he couldn't get it activated either, and when visible on his monitor, he said the card was closed. So I asked him, "you mean to say that the bank sent me a new card to be activated that was already closed?" To which he said "yes". Gotcha; nice to embarass somebody (the bank) over their ineptitude. Though in fact, I am sure it was the perps up to something; like their infatuation with my wallet contents, including this bank card I couldn't use that I kept in my wallet until finding out it was useless on arrival.
I notice I have more energy today, though I don't know why; perhaps the perps are doing something to me to finally get me out of the dysthymic state they have kept me in for the last 60 years. How big of them; I rather be fucking dead than live under the heel of these insane psychopathic assholes. No choice in that.
Anyhow, enough said for the week, and onto a new gig, though it will be pruning in the vineyard, and nothing new there.
Wednesday, September 03, 2014
Naramata Food Trip
09-03-2014
Wednesday; the forecast called for a 30% chance of rain, but it became 100% after the frst hour of vineyard work. By then a low rain cloud came down the valley, and stayed in place for at least two hours, messing up all my plans to get outside vineyard work done. The afternoon was on and off; enough to draw one outside to do certain things, then the rain came on. It got sunny at 1500h when driving back from Naramata (see below).
There was enough rain that I stopped work an hour early and made a food trip to a raw foods wholesaler in Naramata. I ordered it last night and it was ready for pick up before they close at 1500h. A number of last minute things erupted to delay my departure by 20 minutes, which left me in constant doubt if I would maker it there by closing. A number of vehicles chose to slow down ahead of me, though the monster silver grey Lincoln had to be in front of me nearly the entire Penticton to Naramata leg, outbound; before that it was a grey and then a charcoal colored vehicle in front of me. On the return trip it was a silver grey train of three vehicles, the middle one with a skim coat of brown dust on it, one of those "browning around" moments they cannot get enough of. Not only that, browning around with soil dispersed on a vehicle of varying thickness; thicker at the bottom, to thin at the top. And given last night's rain, and rain much of today, someone must of been working real hard to ensure that this skim coated vehicle kept its carefully applied soil skim coat in place, as it was timed for the only part of the day that wasn't raining. Clever.
The assholes didn't make any bones about tailing me either. Just when setting off, a substantial pull-out area had two large SUV's about 6' apart, pointed at different directions, though mostly the same general direction. As soon as I came round the bend, why, the silver grey lead one made an effort to get ahead of me, and the one that was more transverse came in behind me. I cannot imagine in conventional social terms, how two SUV drivers having a confab in a pull-out and then jointly arranging to erupt as soon as they saw me, one to lead and the other to follow. The lead SUV stalker had to go all of a mile or so and then pull off on a side road that runs parallel to the main road, but increases in elevation. Ever notice how the perps like to place gangstalkers up and down stairs in one's proximity?
This pull-out was the site of the near head-on collision of two weeks ago, where I could of diverted to avoid an oncoming vehicle (overtaking another beside it) in my lane some 60' in front, but was totally mindfucked into not being that concerned and kept driving at it, no evasive action allowed. I really don't know how we missed, but the asshole must of been a fully trained perp to have that much faith in their system, as there was no apparent plan B.
In about 1988 when driving a company vehicle I had a tractor trailer coming at me halfway into my lane on a two lane highway at night time. I pulled wide onto the shoulder but I really don't know how we missed. Weeks later, when I saw the location in the daytime, there was a wider area to pull into but it was without a guard rail and had I drove into this pull out blind, I would of gone off a 40' bank into a swamp (at night). I suppose the perps could of pulled one of their teleportational games and re-materialized the tractor trailer back into its lane. The perps had me duck down at the last instant to avoid the flat deck corner at windshield height, so I don't know what happened to the tractor trailer for sure, though he was back in his lane when I looked in my rear view mirror.
One teleportational stunt the perps likely pulled off of major note, would be Flight 77 of 09-11, that did a 270 degree spiral turn and apparently crashed into an unreinforced section of the Pentagon, one of the most fortified and protected buildings in all of the USA, outside a military base. The Pentagon has its own antiaircraft batteries that somehow were not deployed for crissakes. They said the Flight 77 transponder was turned off; not only was that lame, but at the following press meeting that day, when the authorities were telling the gathered media that a 757 crashed into the building, the first questions the press asked were, "where are the wings, ...where is the tail?" The answer they were given was, "no comment". If that doesn't say, "we are hiding the facts from you", nothing does. What I really want to suggest is maybe that was Flight 77 was indeed careering low toward the Pentagon and at the last-most instant was dematerialized elsewhere and a Cruise missle was teleported in its place. Yes, there was some aircraft wreckage in the rubble that was found a week or so later, but it took three days to put the fire out. Plenty of time to yet again, teleport pieces of that very same aircraft back into the rubble. I know, this sounds way out there, but when one is dealing with teleported crumbs and hairs all day long, along with many other unconventional arrivals and missing items, all to abuse the piss out of me for over 12 years, then large scale teleportational stunts (e.g. Boeing 757 and all occupants) are unlikely to be beyond the perp's capability.
Back in about 2010 when working at a farm that had a lunch room upstairs with a picture view of the Gulf Islands toward Sidney and San Juan Island, the Washington State Ferry from Anacortes was emerging from the pass N of San Juan Island and about to cross Haro Strait as it does once per day, most days of the year, at that time of day. I had seen it before from this same vantage point, and was familiar with its steady rate of progress, like any large seagoing vessel. I was by myself, a little unusual in the co-workers gangstalking choreography, but at any rate, I had another bite from my lunch, and looked up, and the ferry was halfway across the strait, a distance of 10 miles. I looked again to make sure I wasn't imaging things, and yes, the ferry had somehow traveled this distance in less than a minute or so, and I was progressing through my lunch at the normal rate. As best as I could make out, there was a wake the entire distance, an entirely normal one. Anyhow, objects and beings, large and small, can be teleported a will by whomever is pulling the strings on all of us. (Or else, I could of been totally mind blanked, but I don't think so as our lunch hours were tightly regulated. Check out the Fortean Times and the It Happened to Me section for more such events.
Yoga this evening, and for this Wednesday which is rare, there was the very large instructor of two years ago. I situated myself at the back of the room as my regular front location had someone's mat there, and they came later moved it to fake me out. So here was this mat-less gap in the class room, and as the large instructor paced about and did her teaching poses, she invariably did them not from her mat (expectable, normal), but from this location that I normally use. And too, to put her oversized ass on display, which for me, was a little too much to take. (As in being repulsed by it, just like before). Anyhow, she did more roaming teaching, something she had not done before, just like all the yoga instructors now.
And how do they go about arranging yoga instructors? From the Freak Files? That is, Fat Girls, balding and big gutted males, now with one cutie in the mix, the Darling Pixie on Mondays. (Not this week due to Labor Day).
10-04-2014
Some sun finally; a near week without, including the Labor Day holiday- thanks assholes.
More center-line vehicular straddlers coming at me, doing the extra wide passing of a bicyclist or R turning vehicle and they just couldn't wait. These drivers coming at me over the center line while passing by a cyclist in a dedicated shoulder lane for their use are just absurd. They make a point of leaving at least 8' of room between the cyclist and their "passing" vehicle. One could drive another vehicle between them and miss the cyclist for crissakes. Any excuse to cross the centerline, and they nearly all do it, either vehicles in my lane ahead or behind me, or else the oncoming centerline drivers. Bizarre, and all this erupted in 05-2012 when taking the Eastside Road to do vineyard work.
I worked an extra hour today, and lo, if there weren't late day visitor arrivals. The first party was the contracted grape buyer's winemaker and his female assistant, whom I see a couple of times per year doing their vineyard walk-throughs. They stayed in their silver grey pickup and pretended not to hear me when I called out when 40' away. There seemed to be some commotion as the woman had a bleeding mole that the guy felt he had to attend to by getting a bandage for her. It seems she is at least an inch bigger in the middle than last time, plump enough then. So what is this act; a shorted male with a plump Fat Girl. She didn't even say hello this time, when she had done so in the past. No big deal, they walked about and circled around so to leave without me hearing them go when I was only 40' from their truck watering plants, behind taller trees so that I could not witness their departure. Most strange; it seems they came for this stunt alone as they were gone in under 10 minutes.
Then the Aussie came after that, and I got to find out from him that the vineyard owner has ordered a hopper for the grapes loading to be made of galvanized steel. Like WTF; has anyone seen any winery equipment made of anything but stainless steel, wood or food grade plastic? Not in over half a century. And two years ago he was talking about getting copper equipment when I told him that there should be no reactive metals in winemaking , and all were except for stainless steel. He understood that, and was telling others. Now two years later he has "forgotten" and of course didn't ask me. Here we go again; blatant inanity heading for a major fuckup unless I get to line the galvanized hopper with a polyethylene sheet.
09-06-2014
Saturday, and laundry; a fat man in a white mini-van was seemed to be giving me the stare for no reason in the parking lot, and so I stared right back at him. I chatted with the male owner of the laundromat about his hockey gear ozone cleaner the kills bacteria too. As it "happened" the fat man comes in and starts chatting to me, and he seems OK, nothing to do with his staring act or my response. Once I get back out in the parking lot, why, he had re-parked his vehicle next to mine for no earthly sane reason.
I go to the Penticton farmer's market, this about 0900h and NOT last weekend, (Labor Day), and there was this ongoing ambulatory cluster fuck around me. Dawdlers who stop in front, fast walkers who also go ahead and then stop in my way, and at least six such incidents of blatant obstruction.
The clue to get out of there was when I was buying at one, and only one stall. A woman moves in close behind me on her cell phone, the #1 stalking aid, and while paying, these two young kids about 6-9 y.o. close in on me and are staring up at me. I needed to give them the "excuse me" reminder they were getting in way too close. All this was likely about me paying cash and giving one green $20 to get coins and a blue $5 back. That is, the color transition change due to my wallet contents, is of intense perp interest. So sending in these twerps was just what the perps like to do.
I took the sidewalk out of there, and lo, if a skinheaded adult male isn't standing in middle of sidewalk and didn't move when I came close, forcing me onto the grass to go around the prick. LIke WTF; what would he be staring at anyhow?
The more young kids, males similar in age to above mentioned ones, didn't do the same thing at the laundromat. Close in on me and stare up at me. This artfully arranged to make their entrance as I was about to exit for the last time today. Obstruction, even for a passing five seconds, is a big deal for the perps these days.
While making dinner,the perps moved my L middle finger under the knife blade while cutting onions up. And of course blood, and I was screamingly infuriated for a good five minutes. And we all know who likes to collect blood samples, especially if the victim is dying in a massacre arranged at a school or tourist location. Like WTF; they can, probably do, extract bodily fluids and substances from me anytime they want, and for some reason they need to cut me. Or, it just maybe a ruse to get me out of the kitchen for a few minutes so they can look at the cut up onions free of my proximity. And too, the classic perp timing, the Fuckup is arranged when about 70-80% through the task. And too, we know who finds cutting up meats and vegetables so fascinating, along with knife sharpening.
An after noon time in the sun, but no tan from it, when I can get tanned into mid-October at this latitude. But it was an excuse to run motorcycle noise ad nauseum for at least 30 minutes, 3x/minute. Then they started up the aircraft noise and aircraft overhead, culminating in the peculiar gyrocopter that likes to hound me about 10x/year, both at my residence and the vineyard where I work.
A new cognitive dehabilitation stunt revealed itself for the first time today. While reading down alphabetical lists of names online (singers or band names), the first capitalized letter gets "modified" to the point of not being able to read it. If I move my head a little, why, I can read just fine (as much as I am allowed, as they can mess with my word recognition, something they could do for the last five years or so).
09-07-2014
I just got sacked into paying for shipping on Amazon when I needn't have. An item was $17 and to get free shipping I needed an order for $25 or more. So I add and additional item, and then got screwed out of noticing where it is stocked, and lo, if it wasn't a Amazon reseller partner. Which means that I pay for shipping for eadh item as it is shipped from elsewhere. The entire intent was to have both items ship from Amazon themselves and I don't pay shipping. Since normally I am totally on top of the shipping charge games, as one must do in Canada, It would seem yet again, I got screwed by remote means. And no less, the reason for getting the first item, a sleeping bag liner which I sleep in every night, is that the sleeping bag liner I use got mysteriously ripped, and then ripped some more so it is nearly in half. Yet again, one sabotage exercise leads to another.
A hike today, the usual location, and they even left me alone to get an hour's tanning in. Some seven other parties on the trail, and three of them were on me at the end. One party about 100m from the trailhead, another arrived when I was at the gate, and and a third party walking down the road three abreast when I was some 60' past the trailhead. Can we say "covered" for a trailhead exit?
As the trailhead is at an organic farm I sometimes stop by to get some produce. And lo, if a red shirted Mexican didn't show up to then loiter in the small shop to get his Coca Cola, brown sugar water in a red colored aluminum can), and this wretched red head freak/store assistant came to my aid to "help" me find a bigger ear of corn, as I was about to purchase two. This goof has been hanging around with a dumbshit Tilley hat most times, and seems to be the appointed clown to hound me there. Most times I get the E Indian woman as the store assistant who seems to be reasonably pleasant and unobtrusive.
Ditto the "swap in the male" in place of the female at two locations I shop often at. That is, I am now getting male cashiers at the till when they had assigned me females for these past two years, since I moved into this town. The male for female swapping at the checkout or cash desk hasn't gone unnoticed these past 12 years, but this represents a extra step up when they put on the male cashier at the outset without any swapping games. If I don't like male cashiers on account of male perpetrated abuses in my recall blanked years, aged 2 to 5 (1956-1959), then I don't see why I should be put through this insane stalking and hounding abuse, along with the extra conventional gravitic fuckery to constantly enrage me all the time. It would seem I had already suffered enough when the assholes went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002.
Wednesday; the forecast called for a 30% chance of rain, but it became 100% after the frst hour of vineyard work. By then a low rain cloud came down the valley, and stayed in place for at least two hours, messing up all my plans to get outside vineyard work done. The afternoon was on and off; enough to draw one outside to do certain things, then the rain came on. It got sunny at 1500h when driving back from Naramata (see below).
There was enough rain that I stopped work an hour early and made a food trip to a raw foods wholesaler in Naramata. I ordered it last night and it was ready for pick up before they close at 1500h. A number of last minute things erupted to delay my departure by 20 minutes, which left me in constant doubt if I would maker it there by closing. A number of vehicles chose to slow down ahead of me, though the monster silver grey Lincoln had to be in front of me nearly the entire Penticton to Naramata leg, outbound; before that it was a grey and then a charcoal colored vehicle in front of me. On the return trip it was a silver grey train of three vehicles, the middle one with a skim coat of brown dust on it, one of those "browning around" moments they cannot get enough of. Not only that, browning around with soil dispersed on a vehicle of varying thickness; thicker at the bottom, to thin at the top. And given last night's rain, and rain much of today, someone must of been working real hard to ensure that this skim coated vehicle kept its carefully applied soil skim coat in place, as it was timed for the only part of the day that wasn't raining. Clever.
The assholes didn't make any bones about tailing me either. Just when setting off, a substantial pull-out area had two large SUV's about 6' apart, pointed at different directions, though mostly the same general direction. As soon as I came round the bend, why, the silver grey lead one made an effort to get ahead of me, and the one that was more transverse came in behind me. I cannot imagine in conventional social terms, how two SUV drivers having a confab in a pull-out and then jointly arranging to erupt as soon as they saw me, one to lead and the other to follow. The lead SUV stalker had to go all of a mile or so and then pull off on a side road that runs parallel to the main road, but increases in elevation. Ever notice how the perps like to place gangstalkers up and down stairs in one's proximity?
This pull-out was the site of the near head-on collision of two weeks ago, where I could of diverted to avoid an oncoming vehicle (overtaking another beside it) in my lane some 60' in front, but was totally mindfucked into not being that concerned and kept driving at it, no evasive action allowed. I really don't know how we missed, but the asshole must of been a fully trained perp to have that much faith in their system, as there was no apparent plan B.
In about 1988 when driving a company vehicle I had a tractor trailer coming at me halfway into my lane on a two lane highway at night time. I pulled wide onto the shoulder but I really don't know how we missed. Weeks later, when I saw the location in the daytime, there was a wider area to pull into but it was without a guard rail and had I drove into this pull out blind, I would of gone off a 40' bank into a swamp (at night). I suppose the perps could of pulled one of their teleportational games and re-materialized the tractor trailer back into its lane. The perps had me duck down at the last instant to avoid the flat deck corner at windshield height, so I don't know what happened to the tractor trailer for sure, though he was back in his lane when I looked in my rear view mirror.
One teleportational stunt the perps likely pulled off of major note, would be Flight 77 of 09-11, that did a 270 degree spiral turn and apparently crashed into an unreinforced section of the Pentagon, one of the most fortified and protected buildings in all of the USA, outside a military base. The Pentagon has its own antiaircraft batteries that somehow were not deployed for crissakes. They said the Flight 77 transponder was turned off; not only was that lame, but at the following press meeting that day, when the authorities were telling the gathered media that a 757 crashed into the building, the first questions the press asked were, "where are the wings, ...where is the tail?" The answer they were given was, "no comment". If that doesn't say, "we are hiding the facts from you", nothing does. What I really want to suggest is maybe that was Flight 77 was indeed careering low toward the Pentagon and at the last-most instant was dematerialized elsewhere and a Cruise missle was teleported in its place. Yes, there was some aircraft wreckage in the rubble that was found a week or so later, but it took three days to put the fire out. Plenty of time to yet again, teleport pieces of that very same aircraft back into the rubble. I know, this sounds way out there, but when one is dealing with teleported crumbs and hairs all day long, along with many other unconventional arrivals and missing items, all to abuse the piss out of me for over 12 years, then large scale teleportational stunts (e.g. Boeing 757 and all occupants) are unlikely to be beyond the perp's capability.
Back in about 2010 when working at a farm that had a lunch room upstairs with a picture view of the Gulf Islands toward Sidney and San Juan Island, the Washington State Ferry from Anacortes was emerging from the pass N of San Juan Island and about to cross Haro Strait as it does once per day, most days of the year, at that time of day. I had seen it before from this same vantage point, and was familiar with its steady rate of progress, like any large seagoing vessel. I was by myself, a little unusual in the co-workers gangstalking choreography, but at any rate, I had another bite from my lunch, and looked up, and the ferry was halfway across the strait, a distance of 10 miles. I looked again to make sure I wasn't imaging things, and yes, the ferry had somehow traveled this distance in less than a minute or so, and I was progressing through my lunch at the normal rate. As best as I could make out, there was a wake the entire distance, an entirely normal one. Anyhow, objects and beings, large and small, can be teleported a will by whomever is pulling the strings on all of us. (Or else, I could of been totally mind blanked, but I don't think so as our lunch hours were tightly regulated. Check out the Fortean Times and the It Happened to Me section for more such events.
Yoga this evening, and for this Wednesday which is rare, there was the very large instructor of two years ago. I situated myself at the back of the room as my regular front location had someone's mat there, and they came later moved it to fake me out. So here was this mat-less gap in the class room, and as the large instructor paced about and did her teaching poses, she invariably did them not from her mat (expectable, normal), but from this location that I normally use. And too, to put her oversized ass on display, which for me, was a little too much to take. (As in being repulsed by it, just like before). Anyhow, she did more roaming teaching, something she had not done before, just like all the yoga instructors now.
And how do they go about arranging yoga instructors? From the Freak Files? That is, Fat Girls, balding and big gutted males, now with one cutie in the mix, the Darling Pixie on Mondays. (Not this week due to Labor Day).
10-04-2014
Some sun finally; a near week without, including the Labor Day holiday- thanks assholes.
More center-line vehicular straddlers coming at me, doing the extra wide passing of a bicyclist or R turning vehicle and they just couldn't wait. These drivers coming at me over the center line while passing by a cyclist in a dedicated shoulder lane for their use are just absurd. They make a point of leaving at least 8' of room between the cyclist and their "passing" vehicle. One could drive another vehicle between them and miss the cyclist for crissakes. Any excuse to cross the centerline, and they nearly all do it, either vehicles in my lane ahead or behind me, or else the oncoming centerline drivers. Bizarre, and all this erupted in 05-2012 when taking the Eastside Road to do vineyard work.
I worked an extra hour today, and lo, if there weren't late day visitor arrivals. The first party was the contracted grape buyer's winemaker and his female assistant, whom I see a couple of times per year doing their vineyard walk-throughs. They stayed in their silver grey pickup and pretended not to hear me when I called out when 40' away. There seemed to be some commotion as the woman had a bleeding mole that the guy felt he had to attend to by getting a bandage for her. It seems she is at least an inch bigger in the middle than last time, plump enough then. So what is this act; a shorted male with a plump Fat Girl. She didn't even say hello this time, when she had done so in the past. No big deal, they walked about and circled around so to leave without me hearing them go when I was only 40' from their truck watering plants, behind taller trees so that I could not witness their departure. Most strange; it seems they came for this stunt alone as they were gone in under 10 minutes.
Then the Aussie came after that, and I got to find out from him that the vineyard owner has ordered a hopper for the grapes loading to be made of galvanized steel. Like WTF; has anyone seen any winery equipment made of anything but stainless steel, wood or food grade plastic? Not in over half a century. And two years ago he was talking about getting copper equipment when I told him that there should be no reactive metals in winemaking , and all were except for stainless steel. He understood that, and was telling others. Now two years later he has "forgotten" and of course didn't ask me. Here we go again; blatant inanity heading for a major fuckup unless I get to line the galvanized hopper with a polyethylene sheet.
09-06-2014
Saturday, and laundry; a fat man in a white mini-van was seemed to be giving me the stare for no reason in the parking lot, and so I stared right back at him. I chatted with the male owner of the laundromat about his hockey gear ozone cleaner the kills bacteria too. As it "happened" the fat man comes in and starts chatting to me, and he seems OK, nothing to do with his staring act or my response. Once I get back out in the parking lot, why, he had re-parked his vehicle next to mine for no earthly sane reason.
I go to the Penticton farmer's market, this about 0900h and NOT last weekend, (Labor Day), and there was this ongoing ambulatory cluster fuck around me. Dawdlers who stop in front, fast walkers who also go ahead and then stop in my way, and at least six such incidents of blatant obstruction.
The clue to get out of there was when I was buying at one, and only one stall. A woman moves in close behind me on her cell phone, the #1 stalking aid, and while paying, these two young kids about 6-9 y.o. close in on me and are staring up at me. I needed to give them the "excuse me" reminder they were getting in way too close. All this was likely about me paying cash and giving one green $20 to get coins and a blue $5 back. That is, the color transition change due to my wallet contents, is of intense perp interest. So sending in these twerps was just what the perps like to do.
I took the sidewalk out of there, and lo, if a skinheaded adult male isn't standing in middle of sidewalk and didn't move when I came close, forcing me onto the grass to go around the prick. LIke WTF; what would he be staring at anyhow?
The more young kids, males similar in age to above mentioned ones, didn't do the same thing at the laundromat. Close in on me and stare up at me. This artfully arranged to make their entrance as I was about to exit for the last time today. Obstruction, even for a passing five seconds, is a big deal for the perps these days.
While making dinner,the perps moved my L middle finger under the knife blade while cutting onions up. And of course blood, and I was screamingly infuriated for a good five minutes. And we all know who likes to collect blood samples, especially if the victim is dying in a massacre arranged at a school or tourist location. Like WTF; they can, probably do, extract bodily fluids and substances from me anytime they want, and for some reason they need to cut me. Or, it just maybe a ruse to get me out of the kitchen for a few minutes so they can look at the cut up onions free of my proximity. And too, the classic perp timing, the Fuckup is arranged when about 70-80% through the task. And too, we know who finds cutting up meats and vegetables so fascinating, along with knife sharpening.
An after noon time in the sun, but no tan from it, when I can get tanned into mid-October at this latitude. But it was an excuse to run motorcycle noise ad nauseum for at least 30 minutes, 3x/minute. Then they started up the aircraft noise and aircraft overhead, culminating in the peculiar gyrocopter that likes to hound me about 10x/year, both at my residence and the vineyard where I work.
A new cognitive dehabilitation stunt revealed itself for the first time today. While reading down alphabetical lists of names online (singers or band names), the first capitalized letter gets "modified" to the point of not being able to read it. If I move my head a little, why, I can read just fine (as much as I am allowed, as they can mess with my word recognition, something they could do for the last five years or so).
09-07-2014
I just got sacked into paying for shipping on Amazon when I needn't have. An item was $17 and to get free shipping I needed an order for $25 or more. So I add and additional item, and then got screwed out of noticing where it is stocked, and lo, if it wasn't a Amazon reseller partner. Which means that I pay for shipping for eadh item as it is shipped from elsewhere. The entire intent was to have both items ship from Amazon themselves and I don't pay shipping. Since normally I am totally on top of the shipping charge games, as one must do in Canada, It would seem yet again, I got screwed by remote means. And no less, the reason for getting the first item, a sleeping bag liner which I sleep in every night, is that the sleeping bag liner I use got mysteriously ripped, and then ripped some more so it is nearly in half. Yet again, one sabotage exercise leads to another.
A hike today, the usual location, and they even left me alone to get an hour's tanning in. Some seven other parties on the trail, and three of them were on me at the end. One party about 100m from the trailhead, another arrived when I was at the gate, and and a third party walking down the road three abreast when I was some 60' past the trailhead. Can we say "covered" for a trailhead exit?
As the trailhead is at an organic farm I sometimes stop by to get some produce. And lo, if a red shirted Mexican didn't show up to then loiter in the small shop to get his Coca Cola, brown sugar water in a red colored aluminum can), and this wretched red head freak/store assistant came to my aid to "help" me find a bigger ear of corn, as I was about to purchase two. This goof has been hanging around with a dumbshit Tilley hat most times, and seems to be the appointed clown to hound me there. Most times I get the E Indian woman as the store assistant who seems to be reasonably pleasant and unobtrusive.
Ditto the "swap in the male" in place of the female at two locations I shop often at. That is, I am now getting male cashiers at the till when they had assigned me females for these past two years, since I moved into this town. The male for female swapping at the checkout or cash desk hasn't gone unnoticed these past 12 years, but this represents a extra step up when they put on the male cashier at the outset without any swapping games. If I don't like male cashiers on account of male perpetrated abuses in my recall blanked years, aged 2 to 5 (1956-1959), then I don't see why I should be put through this insane stalking and hounding abuse, along with the extra conventional gravitic fuckery to constantly enrage me all the time. It would seem I had already suffered enough when the assholes went berserk/overt on me in 04-2002.
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Manic Monday Again
Nothing like a Monday to get the victim riled up; a letter (finally, two months late) asking for $15k of overpayment of my disabiltiy benefits. Seemingly it is not enough to sink me financially in the past, they must do it again. Last October, (11-2013) I was attempting to discontinue these disability payments, but "somehow" I forgot. Then in December (12-2013), no one mentioned anything about them, which to me, confirms a financial hit was in the making.
More BS over getting shafted on finding roomies; a male (I assume) was looking for a roomie for a 1600 sq. ft. condo, and the room had a private bathroom. (After the sudden onset of toilet blocking assaults in this same situation on 2012, it is very important to have one's own shitter). I sent all the major relevant information to the person, and they sent their phone number back within two hours. I phoned, and no answer, and I left a message. No returned message, and I phoned again, and still no response. The promising lead went totally dead. Or more like, the ruse had run its course. I cannot count the number of times I have been looking for roomies or jobs, and the right situation comes up, save one deal breaker. This time, no deal breaker, just no response.
My new monitor arrived today, packed in a brown cardboard box, with more brown cardboard inserts to keep it in the middle of the box. And it was also the excuse for getting all my Firefox tabs wiped out, later to return in another session.
Then yoga; the one other male was up to his wheezing, grunting and the rest of it for whatever purpose that serves.
06-11-2014
At the daytime vineyard job this 19 y.o. kid arrived from Vancouver. He is said to be interested in winemaking, and so he was shipped to this Okanagan vineyard to get some experience. He seems a little afraid of me for no apparent reason; perhaps my "reputation" (as a TI kept in a densified magnetic field and perhaps a visible plasma field too) has preceded me.
And more games with human voice noise from adjacent properties, and the perps making sure they got through my headphones while listening to music. This erupted at the start of the row, so I walked to the other end, and lo, withing t=two minutes, the same noise erupted from the adjacent road.
A call from the FFF mother; pops (the FFF father-quisling) might not make it because he has had a turn for the worse in the nursing home facility where he lives.
And so, for the entire evening the perps filled me with plans to pay off my above debt with the possible inheritance. Well, he isn't dead yet, so why these macabre ideations?
And the next day, awaiting the news via a phone call, why someone else phoned who need not have, as he wanted above vineyard helper's phone number which I didn't posess. All to heighten the drama over a potentially bad news phone call.
06-12-2014
This new vineyard worker in training; did he really have to wear fricking red baggy shorts to his knees, a purple shirt and big deck shoes, all like some misguided clown? I learned in Thanks for the Memories by Brice Taylor, that her keepers liked to use clowns on young children. And so it might be that clowns are another abreaction from the memory deleted years of 1956 to 1959. But the perps have it right; I loathe the sight of clowns, and all that Ronald McDonald schtick that goes with it. Perhaps it might be the reason I loathe red hair so much, another abreactive Unfavored trait they play up.
Working at a second vineyard in the evenings, on across Skaha Lake, and near where the propane cannon goes off all day long. Who needs gunshot sounds over the whole day, and why isn't there a riot in Kaleden where this is over such an invasive and noisy sound?
06-13-2014
Raining all day, until I drove to the other side of Skaha Lake and worked two more hours on de-suckering their vineyard.
The vineyard helper wore gumboots, the same ridiculous (and soaking wet) red shorts, a yellow shirt, and a thin rain coat over top. Possibly the rain coat to hide the infernal red+yellow color combination, as we know who likes to arrange this one in the form of vehicle combinations, gangstalker attire (one in red, and one in yellow, and lo, if they "happen" to know each other and coalesce into one visible unit), etc. And if I do not like red, and vile yellows, and absolutely loathe the two colors together, why is it that some psychopathically insane agency hounds me for over 12 years in two countries and presents this fugly color combination to me in varying forms, various distances, spatial alignments and directions? The Pyschopathic Confederacy tells me that it simulates the colors of ketchup (cannot stand the sight of it) and mustard (ditto), which were prominently displayed in some military run child abuse camp. Possibly the Indian Lake Project, as the timing was right, seeming in the late 1950's, coinciding with my recall deleted years, 1956-59.
I drove in my raingear and knee pads, (gumboots on too), a first for such driving attire, but it worked out OK and I was ready to start this extra job in no time.
At least 20 rage-fications when I got back; pulling items from my grasp, standing dumbstruck when there was something obvious to do, etc. A new mind-fuck stunt that is gaining more prominence of late is to have something in mind to do, and then switched to a new task altogether, and while in the middle of this second task, why, the original intent "comes to mind". Then they often extend this some more, screwing me out of attending to the first task yet again. Fun stuff, not trusting one's self. Never have I had such a problem of staying on task until the last six months or so.
06-14-2014
A full Saturday of getting chores done, like visiting Walmart, getting laundry done, and then setting off to do this side job of de-suckering the vines. This task has been left too late, as the suckers are getting woody and shooting up into the canopy of shoots intended for this year's harvest. Which means I must follow these sucker shoots and cut them out piece by piece, as pulling on them will pull these shoots out too.
So far, pops seems to be doing OK, based on the absence of bad news. Which means to me, the entire stunt was fabricated to project the possibility in mind and the follow-on ridiculous financial planning.
And I see that I am already $700 overdrawn at the bank; back to these days again. They kept me in the hole for much of 2007-2008, and it took me forvever to get out of it, as the only extra income (over the disability payments) was from farm work. The perps just love to inflict financial duress, and all the better if one is indebted.
06-15-2014
The Father's Day ridiculousness; though to be fair, my 24 y.o. daughter sent me a card and a bar of chocolate, the first time EVER since the Day of Infamy 04-2002 she has acknowledged this day. And believe me, there is no bad blood or bad anything in the relationship, save this orchestrated nightmare to which she abides, though the ex does most of the talking for her.
And I see my web search at Newegg is getting compromised all the more. It was that there was a one-time nag window asking me if I wanted to go to Newegg.ca, and the answer is "NO" because the Canadian child sites are usually with less selection. But now, the nag window comes up every time I change the web page, and to add insult to injury, they show the search result in the greyed down background, and when I answer "NO", they remove the search results and send me to a generic introduction page. Just the kind of thing the perps love, incrementally reduced functionality, especially this greyed down background nonsense/method that seems to be au courant.
At least 30 screamings at the perps tonight, coming off the second lost wallet jerkaround in two weeks. Somehow, my back pocket wasn't zippered, and usually is, and lo, no wallet. This "discovered" when the vineyard owner was paying me when I was at the vehicle after an 8 hour stint of de-suckering the vines. I get back to my place to look, as I had a distracting phone call this morning before I was about to depart, adroitly timed when my L boot was tied up, and my R boot was on, but without the laces tightened and tied. I often get fucked with when I am tying up my boots and shoes, but this little stunt takes the cake.
Back to the second lost wallet inside two weeks; my back pocket of my work pants ALWAYS zippered to keep my wallet secure, but "for some reason", wasn't there when I reached for it. I was, and still am totally livid over this second wallet theft/teleportation, and again, I would of totally destroyed this place and my vehicle if they hadn't dociled me. What billion dollar/year operation needs to jerk victims senseless without declaring themselves for over 12 years? All this is predicated on the fact that whatever they are after has to be done without being positively known to their victims. I just don't get it, and am fucking sick and fed up of this insane train of relentless abuse, wallets and otherwise.
From the perp's perspective, they get me to return to this vineyard I have worked 4 evenings at, and a Saturday and Sunday. Not only that, but at 0600h, my usual regular morning time departure for the regular full time vineyard. And too, they have held me up from transferring some money to my daughter, which I was going to do online with the aid of my debit card.
Onto posting this one, hoping that Monday is calmer than the last.
More BS over getting shafted on finding roomies; a male (I assume) was looking for a roomie for a 1600 sq. ft. condo, and the room had a private bathroom. (After the sudden onset of toilet blocking assaults in this same situation on 2012, it is very important to have one's own shitter). I sent all the major relevant information to the person, and they sent their phone number back within two hours. I phoned, and no answer, and I left a message. No returned message, and I phoned again, and still no response. The promising lead went totally dead. Or more like, the ruse had run its course. I cannot count the number of times I have been looking for roomies or jobs, and the right situation comes up, save one deal breaker. This time, no deal breaker, just no response.
My new monitor arrived today, packed in a brown cardboard box, with more brown cardboard inserts to keep it in the middle of the box. And it was also the excuse for getting all my Firefox tabs wiped out, later to return in another session.
Then yoga; the one other male was up to his wheezing, grunting and the rest of it for whatever purpose that serves.
06-11-2014
At the daytime vineyard job this 19 y.o. kid arrived from Vancouver. He is said to be interested in winemaking, and so he was shipped to this Okanagan vineyard to get some experience. He seems a little afraid of me for no apparent reason; perhaps my "reputation" (as a TI kept in a densified magnetic field and perhaps a visible plasma field too) has preceded me.
And more games with human voice noise from adjacent properties, and the perps making sure they got through my headphones while listening to music. This erupted at the start of the row, so I walked to the other end, and lo, withing t=two minutes, the same noise erupted from the adjacent road.
A call from the FFF mother; pops (the FFF father-quisling) might not make it because he has had a turn for the worse in the nursing home facility where he lives.
And so, for the entire evening the perps filled me with plans to pay off my above debt with the possible inheritance. Well, he isn't dead yet, so why these macabre ideations?
And the next day, awaiting the news via a phone call, why someone else phoned who need not have, as he wanted above vineyard helper's phone number which I didn't posess. All to heighten the drama over a potentially bad news phone call.
06-12-2014
This new vineyard worker in training; did he really have to wear fricking red baggy shorts to his knees, a purple shirt and big deck shoes, all like some misguided clown? I learned in Thanks for the Memories by Brice Taylor, that her keepers liked to use clowns on young children. And so it might be that clowns are another abreaction from the memory deleted years of 1956 to 1959. But the perps have it right; I loathe the sight of clowns, and all that Ronald McDonald schtick that goes with it. Perhaps it might be the reason I loathe red hair so much, another abreactive Unfavored trait they play up.
Working at a second vineyard in the evenings, on across Skaha Lake, and near where the propane cannon goes off all day long. Who needs gunshot sounds over the whole day, and why isn't there a riot in Kaleden where this is over such an invasive and noisy sound?
06-13-2014
Raining all day, until I drove to the other side of Skaha Lake and worked two more hours on de-suckering their vineyard.
The vineyard helper wore gumboots, the same ridiculous (and soaking wet) red shorts, a yellow shirt, and a thin rain coat over top. Possibly the rain coat to hide the infernal red+yellow color combination, as we know who likes to arrange this one in the form of vehicle combinations, gangstalker attire (one in red, and one in yellow, and lo, if they "happen" to know each other and coalesce into one visible unit), etc. And if I do not like red, and vile yellows, and absolutely loathe the two colors together, why is it that some psychopathically insane agency hounds me for over 12 years in two countries and presents this fugly color combination to me in varying forms, various distances, spatial alignments and directions? The Pyschopathic Confederacy tells me that it simulates the colors of ketchup (cannot stand the sight of it) and mustard (ditto), which were prominently displayed in some military run child abuse camp. Possibly the Indian Lake Project, as the timing was right, seeming in the late 1950's, coinciding with my recall deleted years, 1956-59.
I drove in my raingear and knee pads, (gumboots on too), a first for such driving attire, but it worked out OK and I was ready to start this extra job in no time.
At least 20 rage-fications when I got back; pulling items from my grasp, standing dumbstruck when there was something obvious to do, etc. A new mind-fuck stunt that is gaining more prominence of late is to have something in mind to do, and then switched to a new task altogether, and while in the middle of this second task, why, the original intent "comes to mind". Then they often extend this some more, screwing me out of attending to the first task yet again. Fun stuff, not trusting one's self. Never have I had such a problem of staying on task until the last six months or so.
06-14-2014
A full Saturday of getting chores done, like visiting Walmart, getting laundry done, and then setting off to do this side job of de-suckering the vines. This task has been left too late, as the suckers are getting woody and shooting up into the canopy of shoots intended for this year's harvest. Which means I must follow these sucker shoots and cut them out piece by piece, as pulling on them will pull these shoots out too.
So far, pops seems to be doing OK, based on the absence of bad news. Which means to me, the entire stunt was fabricated to project the possibility in mind and the follow-on ridiculous financial planning.
And I see that I am already $700 overdrawn at the bank; back to these days again. They kept me in the hole for much of 2007-2008, and it took me forvever to get out of it, as the only extra income (over the disability payments) was from farm work. The perps just love to inflict financial duress, and all the better if one is indebted.
06-15-2014
The Father's Day ridiculousness; though to be fair, my 24 y.o. daughter sent me a card and a bar of chocolate, the first time EVER since the Day of Infamy 04-2002 she has acknowledged this day. And believe me, there is no bad blood or bad anything in the relationship, save this orchestrated nightmare to which she abides, though the ex does most of the talking for her.
And I see my web search at Newegg is getting compromised all the more. It was that there was a one-time nag window asking me if I wanted to go to Newegg.ca, and the answer is "NO" because the Canadian child sites are usually with less selection. But now, the nag window comes up every time I change the web page, and to add insult to injury, they show the search result in the greyed down background, and when I answer "NO", they remove the search results and send me to a generic introduction page. Just the kind of thing the perps love, incrementally reduced functionality, especially this greyed down background nonsense/method that seems to be au courant.
At least 30 screamings at the perps tonight, coming off the second lost wallet jerkaround in two weeks. Somehow, my back pocket wasn't zippered, and usually is, and lo, no wallet. This "discovered" when the vineyard owner was paying me when I was at the vehicle after an 8 hour stint of de-suckering the vines. I get back to my place to look, as I had a distracting phone call this morning before I was about to depart, adroitly timed when my L boot was tied up, and my R boot was on, but without the laces tightened and tied. I often get fucked with when I am tying up my boots and shoes, but this little stunt takes the cake.
Back to the second lost wallet inside two weeks; my back pocket of my work pants ALWAYS zippered to keep my wallet secure, but "for some reason", wasn't there when I reached for it. I was, and still am totally livid over this second wallet theft/teleportation, and again, I would of totally destroyed this place and my vehicle if they hadn't dociled me. What billion dollar/year operation needs to jerk victims senseless without declaring themselves for over 12 years? All this is predicated on the fact that whatever they are after has to be done without being positively known to their victims. I just don't get it, and am fucking sick and fed up of this insane train of relentless abuse, wallets and otherwise.
From the perp's perspective, they get me to return to this vineyard I have worked 4 evenings at, and a Saturday and Sunday. Not only that, but at 0600h, my usual regular morning time departure for the regular full time vineyard. And too, they have held me up from transferring some money to my daughter, which I was going to do online with the aid of my debit card.
Onto posting this one, hoping that Monday is calmer than the last.
Sunday, June 08, 2014
The Provenance of Water
06-03-2014
Where water comes from, and its energetic interaction with yours truly, a high abuse state TI, is of constant and abiding perp interest. And today, they added some more variations on the vineyard and roads and IN my vehicle.
For starters, they pulled a water spill in my vehicle last night after yoga, almost a liter somehow spilled out of a just-purchased 4L jug of water I was taking back to my place. This was a sealed cap and somehow the water leaked out onto the front passenger foot well. The second container didn't spill somehow, and I cleaned it up with paper towels (also a perp fetish substance). I left the windows open for the night, the car being parked outside.
And today at the vineyard, a sudden need to get the irrigation going and lo, if the sprinkler heads didn't throw more water into my vehicle's open window, as it was parked on the adjacent driveway. Needless to say, I was fucking pissed about this, two in-vehicle water attacks in 24 hours.
And per "usual", walking the irrigated area to poke the debris out of a few sprinkler heads, and then to the red grape section to do the same on the low-flow sprinklers in the row. And some split hose lines to repair, in two places. The area will be irrigated for 24 hours, and as it was partial coverage, more to follow tomorrow. All to soak my ass first thing in the morning without benefit of rain gear or gumboots. And do they ever love to soak my hiking boots to change their color to a darker green and then have them slowly dry out and of course, monitor the color change effects, whatever they may be.
There are two agricultural water sources for this vineyard; a creek that has a shared weir that is some 200m upstream, and Skaha Lake, some 130' elevation lower, so it must be pumped up. There are two storage tanks on the property, and a well that is only good for grey water use.
But it seems that the creek water source might not be available this year, as the connecting 5" pipe is split in many places, having helped bring out the 30' sections over a month ago. And of course the perps have an abiding interest into which crops recieve which water from their sources, rainfall included.
A "dry storm" day again; thunder and lightning building up and passing through but no rain for the most part, just some sprinkling added to getting sprinkled from fixing the irrigation sprinkers. As it "happened' this city some 10 km away did get rained upon, something that was evident from the puddles on the ground. Obviously, driving on wet pavement from rainfall is a big deal, and I have long given up counting the street sweeping (and wetting) games that are in advance of me driving on them. Before this latest car ownership since 04-2012, it was public transportation bus trips over certain cleaned and wetted intersections and roads.
A 3 hour nap attack tonight, putting a serious hole in this Tuesday evening. Per "usual", no sleep deficit to account for this. This preceded me getting cooked chicken from the supermarket, which was my only purchase. And we know who goes berserk over cooked meats as well as carving them up. It was 30 min, of sleeping in a chair, and then 2.5 hours in lie-down mode.
My daughter deigned to call me last night, a near first since 2002, when all this shit came down, it was made plain to me that she wouldn't call. Thanks a bunch assholes
06-04-2014
At the vineyard, I was soaked again, doing irrigation fixes; they like to arrange this with having removed my pants and in shorts, and to soak my boots and then darken them this time with bare (tanned) legs, and then examine the effects of them drying and becoming their lighter normal olive green.
No thunderstorms today, though they did arrange high cloud to tone down the sun intensity for the afternoon
I learned that last year's vineyard helper who came up from Texas to help the owners who were confined to medical issues in Vancouver BC, was in a motorcycle accident; both ankles broken and plenty of orthopedic surgery ahead for him [Motorcycle noise as I typed this up] Plenty more parked motorcycles as props today. The part I don't get is surely that this person was aiding the perps, and everything was scripted to the microsecond, and was likely compensated by now, a year later. (We got on just great). And yet, the perps go screw him by arranging for a motorcycle accident a year to the week ago, and cripple him big time. So did he sign up for this, or is there another perp layer above the gumshoes and handlers and the compensation keepers, that lays on the heavy life-altering (for weeks at least) accidents?
Not forgetting that the vineyard owners for whom I work, and who cooperate with the perps full time, got hit last year, when the fellow got hit with an unknown condition that sent him to hospital for six weeks at this critical time of vineyard work. (Not that he does much of it anyhow, but his Vancouver located medical conditions meant that his OR nurse trained wife went down to aid him). So did the owner sign up for this one, or not? I suspect the latter, as he was intensely pissy when he got back, and seemed to be resigned to these medical "irregularities" erupting.
The usual post town vehicular gangstalking silliness; made a stop at the drycleaners as I found mold on my ski jacket that had been hanging on the same hook for over a year, as I did not wear it this past winter. The third mold attack on my belongings in the last month. I suspect I will have to move out of here.
While doing the routine vineyard work, I was planted with ideations of immaginary conversations with roomies I have not yet met, the ones that lay it all up front; shared dutties, no drama expectations etc.And another lead came to a dead stop; a person advertised a roommate situation in a 1600 sq ft. condo, with a private bathroom etc. and I replied with relevant details, and he emails back within a few hours from his Iphone with his phone number. I call him, and left a message on his answering service, referencing the email and gave him my number. This person never phoned me back, and I emailed the same message the next day, and still no response. This situation isn't ideal, (a roomie of any kind), but I could of saved $400/month in rent and yet the perps screw me out of it. This is fucking tiresome to say the least, never mind expensive beyond my income level they keep me at, as a vineyard laborer for crissakes.
Some stinging eye attacks tonight of No Ostensible Cause (NOC). Then later I was so de-energized so I couldn't get up from my chair, in near sleep but not able to move. Another never-before condition I never had until this insane abuse stream came down on me in 04-2002.
06-05-2014
At the vineyard, more water system repairs and operations; soaked to the ass in the morning for the third day in a row. The owner brings out bottled water in a red plastic cup and plants it on the repairman's deep grey Toyota truck for a few hours. It too got soaked, "happening" to be in the sprinkler range. When seeing the sprinkler water coming toward his open truck window I ran to his truck and got his keys to close the window while the owner stopped the sprinkler head from turning. Sounds so routine, but the perps totally scrambled me, and had me mess with this dumb-assed cup at first when there was a more important thing to do, close the window. Yesterday, it was my Toyota that got soaked, and as I did not leave the keys in it, unlike the repairman today, it was an object of later remarks.
Seven low-level (300' above ground) flyovers with an P-3 Orion sub tracking aircraft today, and the aircraft making no landing at the airport (4 miles away) at all. Each time it made an arc over top of where I was, some 300' above where I was, fairly low to see details of the underside. This from the above Wikipedia link:
Just to think, they sent this military aircraft from the coastline of Canada (presumably) 400 miles inland, to come and make seven passes overhead at low elevation just to sweep me and the area with the MAD (magnetic anomaly detection) device in its rearmost "stinger" tail. And have I not long complained of being kept in a high density magnetic field, some 1700 Gauss when last measured in 2009 or so? Lets make it blatant this time; no need whatsoever to have this specialized sub tracking aircraft over land areas, and yet it arrived to make seven low level passes just for this TI victim. As always, the perps should just go fuck yourselves.
And more per-worsity, as in blatant abuse support. I see the landlord had this nanny suite painted on the outside today, and lo, if the freaky painter didn't have his tray and roller and paint sitting in front of the door, forcing me to step over it before I could get inside. Brilliant timing, as always. Which might partly explain why I am running into the "painter" acts of late. Dudes in paint splotched clothing as if they just stepped off a painting job, just "happening" to be crossing the street, another one in the laundromat the next day etc.
06-06-2014
I got totally screwed, as in a lost, (as in teleported) wallet theft today; I was screaming infuriated at this stunt as it was so fucking blatant; I stopped at a store with wallet in hand as I had no pockets, and didn't get far into the store (5') when a staff member met me and I asked about a scratch ticket I was told to bring back from two days earlier. She said no, one goes online. Fine, I turned around and departed and then drove home with extra heavy gangstalking action, including the fire department and four police vehicles blocking the street I usually take, so I had to take a detour around this green area, driving on the wrong side of the road. I looked my vehicle over most carefully, but no fucking wallet.
I went back to the store and asked there, retraced my steps, looked under vehicles that were parked over top of where I had been when it happened, and the vehicular gangstalking legions seemed to have been doubled. No fucking wallet; it didn't go anywhere but in my hand, and yet it somehow went missing. I checked all floor surfaces, including the passenger side and seat-door space, to no avail. I was so infuriated I was ready to trash this place and my vehicle (while parked) to either find it or register my total rage over this Fuckover stunt, as it happened quite often, every two years or so before they went berserk/overt in 04-2002. Since then I have had one wallet theft (2004) and one wallet trashing in the laundry in 12 years of insane fucking abuse. (Read on).
Just to think; the sole reason for this abusive insanity of being a nonconsensual human experiment subject is that the perps don't want to declare themselves to their victims. And what is the reason for that? No one knows for sure, but I suspect it has something to do with the quantum energies associated with the measurement problem, and to have a fully unsuspecting subject, though I don't know where it goes from there, and it is likely that the street walker perps don't know either. And yes, I know the link is full of quantum-babble, but the nub of it is that an observer is part of a quantum energy activity (e.g. transference, transition event etc.) and the perps need to somehow eliminate the observer by taking them over in all their quantum energetic properties. A tall order to be sure, but they have only been abusing the shit out of me, figuratively and literally for 12 years and haven't let up yet.
06-07-2014
And was I allowed to talk directly with my daughter on her birthday today? No-sir, not allowed, per dictate of the Psychopathic Confederacy, the Relentless Abuse Division. Sure, I was allowed to "remember" (read, remotely applied recall deletion) unlike past years, but the phone tag went at least three rounds each.
And when I "happened" to check my vehicle again before setting off to do my weekly laundry at the laundromat, why, the freaking wallet was tucked between the passenger side and the door. Like WTF; I checked there at least twice and there was no fucking wallet there. So, it was either a teleport job, or else they blanked me out so I could not even know it was there while physically looking straight at it. They have been able to do object-based non-recognition games since about 2005, when one can see something and not know what it is, and then a few years later, not even see it (recognize it) while looking at the very object one is searching for at invoked consternation.
So, some new financial cards will arrive, (read new magnetic stripes), and single card for driver's licence and medical care instead of the two separate ones they formerly issued. Some cards (about four) will be retained, moved from the old wallet to the new one (read on), and of course the cash will be retained. Plus, a "spare" wallet that was (oddly) purchased extra in 2004 with the last wallet loss is now the wallet I will use. Call it a "blended wallet contents" test; new bill fold, new financial cards, some money from the old one along with some retained loyalty cards. Just to think, this is likely the culmination of a 10 year long plan to jerk me out of my wallet while having a spare one (in fallow) all this time. And why would I have brought such a useless thing when moving to Penticton in 2012?
06-08-2014 Sunday
I got a hike in today, though again, a herd at the top of McIntyre Bluff, and most strangely some five parties on the way up while I was returning, spaced about two minutes apart. They have laid off the heavy hiking gangstalk parties this year, apart from the herds at the destination, but have now returned to form with the multiple passing parties stalking.
Warm today, sunny was forecast, but lo, if a high cloud cover didn't move in and prevent any real tanning today. I was set to loaf for an hour of tanning time and they pulled this one for whatever reason. Though they did pull some sunlight on-off games later while reading The Scientist, an autobiography of John C. Lily MD. After that, came the nap attack.
I am still buzzed out from a 2.5 hour nap attack that began at 1600h, and here it is 1940h. Some sleep deficit, though they can fix that if they need to without sending me into near fugue state after the nap. Back in the high harassment days of 2002, they would have me drive the I-5 and I-90 all night and show up to work at 0800h at my IT office job and there would be absolutely no problem of tiredness. Once I would get back to my apartment at the end of the working day, say 1700h, the head pain beams would start up and I would only find relief by driving in my vehicle for another night time adventure, maybe picking up a few hours at a rest area, and perform another day of office work without tiredness.
I have never been a nap person until all this came down, but for the rare event, I would never suffer these incredible sufferings of being awake and not have the energy/ability to get up for a half hour or more, which is nearly standard for these nap attacks, perp induced of course.
And it is a good way to put a hole in one's day, forcing them off their intended accomplishment task list, also another perp interest item.
Anyhow, a tumultuous week has passed, all to ponder the games for this week.
A new "follower" I see this week; welcome to Malice In Blunderland, a near 60 year old MKULTRA case gets unconventionally abused nonstop for 12 years and counting and his family was in on it from the get-go. (Hence calling them the First Feral Family). And the abuses of three recall deleted years when aged 2 to 5, are a seeming problem for the rest of the human nonconsensual experimentation objective, so they inundate me with orchestrated abreactive freaks and follies to undo their psychic wreckage I was unaware of. It gets worse, but that is enough for anyone to be introduced to.
Where water comes from, and its energetic interaction with yours truly, a high abuse state TI, is of constant and abiding perp interest. And today, they added some more variations on the vineyard and roads and IN my vehicle.
For starters, they pulled a water spill in my vehicle last night after yoga, almost a liter somehow spilled out of a just-purchased 4L jug of water I was taking back to my place. This was a sealed cap and somehow the water leaked out onto the front passenger foot well. The second container didn't spill somehow, and I cleaned it up with paper towels (also a perp fetish substance). I left the windows open for the night, the car being parked outside.
And today at the vineyard, a sudden need to get the irrigation going and lo, if the sprinkler heads didn't throw more water into my vehicle's open window, as it was parked on the adjacent driveway. Needless to say, I was fucking pissed about this, two in-vehicle water attacks in 24 hours.
And per "usual", walking the irrigated area to poke the debris out of a few sprinkler heads, and then to the red grape section to do the same on the low-flow sprinklers in the row. And some split hose lines to repair, in two places. The area will be irrigated for 24 hours, and as it was partial coverage, more to follow tomorrow. All to soak my ass first thing in the morning without benefit of rain gear or gumboots. And do they ever love to soak my hiking boots to change their color to a darker green and then have them slowly dry out and of course, monitor the color change effects, whatever they may be.
There are two agricultural water sources for this vineyard; a creek that has a shared weir that is some 200m upstream, and Skaha Lake, some 130' elevation lower, so it must be pumped up. There are two storage tanks on the property, and a well that is only good for grey water use.
But it seems that the creek water source might not be available this year, as the connecting 5" pipe is split in many places, having helped bring out the 30' sections over a month ago. And of course the perps have an abiding interest into which crops recieve which water from their sources, rainfall included.
A "dry storm" day again; thunder and lightning building up and passing through but no rain for the most part, just some sprinkling added to getting sprinkled from fixing the irrigation sprinkers. As it "happened' this city some 10 km away did get rained upon, something that was evident from the puddles on the ground. Obviously, driving on wet pavement from rainfall is a big deal, and I have long given up counting the street sweeping (and wetting) games that are in advance of me driving on them. Before this latest car ownership since 04-2012, it was public transportation bus trips over certain cleaned and wetted intersections and roads.
A 3 hour nap attack tonight, putting a serious hole in this Tuesday evening. Per "usual", no sleep deficit to account for this. This preceded me getting cooked chicken from the supermarket, which was my only purchase. And we know who goes berserk over cooked meats as well as carving them up. It was 30 min, of sleeping in a chair, and then 2.5 hours in lie-down mode.
My daughter deigned to call me last night, a near first since 2002, when all this shit came down, it was made plain to me that she wouldn't call. Thanks a bunch assholes
06-04-2014
At the vineyard, I was soaked again, doing irrigation fixes; they like to arrange this with having removed my pants and in shorts, and to soak my boots and then darken them this time with bare (tanned) legs, and then examine the effects of them drying and becoming their lighter normal olive green.
No thunderstorms today, though they did arrange high cloud to tone down the sun intensity for the afternoon
I learned that last year's vineyard helper who came up from Texas to help the owners who were confined to medical issues in Vancouver BC, was in a motorcycle accident; both ankles broken and plenty of orthopedic surgery ahead for him [Motorcycle noise as I typed this up] Plenty more parked motorcycles as props today. The part I don't get is surely that this person was aiding the perps, and everything was scripted to the microsecond, and was likely compensated by now, a year later. (We got on just great). And yet, the perps go screw him by arranging for a motorcycle accident a year to the week ago, and cripple him big time. So did he sign up for this, or is there another perp layer above the gumshoes and handlers and the compensation keepers, that lays on the heavy life-altering (for weeks at least) accidents?
Not forgetting that the vineyard owners for whom I work, and who cooperate with the perps full time, got hit last year, when the fellow got hit with an unknown condition that sent him to hospital for six weeks at this critical time of vineyard work. (Not that he does much of it anyhow, but his Vancouver located medical conditions meant that his OR nurse trained wife went down to aid him). So did the owner sign up for this one, or not? I suspect the latter, as he was intensely pissy when he got back, and seemed to be resigned to these medical "irregularities" erupting.
The usual post town vehicular gangstalking silliness; made a stop at the drycleaners as I found mold on my ski jacket that had been hanging on the same hook for over a year, as I did not wear it this past winter. The third mold attack on my belongings in the last month. I suspect I will have to move out of here.
While doing the routine vineyard work, I was planted with ideations of immaginary conversations with roomies I have not yet met, the ones that lay it all up front; shared dutties, no drama expectations etc.And another lead came to a dead stop; a person advertised a roommate situation in a 1600 sq ft. condo, with a private bathroom etc. and I replied with relevant details, and he emails back within a few hours from his Iphone with his phone number. I call him, and left a message on his answering service, referencing the email and gave him my number. This person never phoned me back, and I emailed the same message the next day, and still no response. This situation isn't ideal, (a roomie of any kind), but I could of saved $400/month in rent and yet the perps screw me out of it. This is fucking tiresome to say the least, never mind expensive beyond my income level they keep me at, as a vineyard laborer for crissakes.
Some stinging eye attacks tonight of No Ostensible Cause (NOC). Then later I was so de-energized so I couldn't get up from my chair, in near sleep but not able to move. Another never-before condition I never had until this insane abuse stream came down on me in 04-2002.
06-05-2014
At the vineyard, more water system repairs and operations; soaked to the ass in the morning for the third day in a row. The owner brings out bottled water in a red plastic cup and plants it on the repairman's deep grey Toyota truck for a few hours. It too got soaked, "happening" to be in the sprinkler range. When seeing the sprinkler water coming toward his open truck window I ran to his truck and got his keys to close the window while the owner stopped the sprinkler head from turning. Sounds so routine, but the perps totally scrambled me, and had me mess with this dumb-assed cup at first when there was a more important thing to do, close the window. Yesterday, it was my Toyota that got soaked, and as I did not leave the keys in it, unlike the repairman today, it was an object of later remarks.
Seven low-level (300' above ground) flyovers with an P-3 Orion sub tracking aircraft today, and the aircraft making no landing at the airport (4 miles away) at all. Each time it made an arc over top of where I was, some 300' above where I was, fairly low to see details of the underside. This from the above Wikipedia link:
The P-3 is equipped with a magnetic anomaly detector (MAD) in the extended tail. This instrument is able to detect the magnetic anomaly of a submarine in the Earth's magnetic field. The limited range of this instrument requires the aircraft to be near the submarine at low altitude. Because of this, it is primarily used for pinpointing the location of a submarine immediately prior to a torpedo or depth bomb attack. Due to the sensitivity of the detector, electromagnetic noise can interfere with it, so the detector is placed in P-3's fiberglass tail stinger (MAD boom), far from other electronics and ferrous metals on the aircraft.[14]
Just to think, they sent this military aircraft from the coastline of Canada (presumably) 400 miles inland, to come and make seven passes overhead at low elevation just to sweep me and the area with the MAD (magnetic anomaly detection) device in its rearmost "stinger" tail. And have I not long complained of being kept in a high density magnetic field, some 1700 Gauss when last measured in 2009 or so? Lets make it blatant this time; no need whatsoever to have this specialized sub tracking aircraft over land areas, and yet it arrived to make seven low level passes just for this TI victim. As always, the perps should just go fuck yourselves.
And more per-worsity, as in blatant abuse support. I see the landlord had this nanny suite painted on the outside today, and lo, if the freaky painter didn't have his tray and roller and paint sitting in front of the door, forcing me to step over it before I could get inside. Brilliant timing, as always. Which might partly explain why I am running into the "painter" acts of late. Dudes in paint splotched clothing as if they just stepped off a painting job, just "happening" to be crossing the street, another one in the laundromat the next day etc.
06-06-2014
I got totally screwed, as in a lost, (as in teleported) wallet theft today; I was screaming infuriated at this stunt as it was so fucking blatant; I stopped at a store with wallet in hand as I had no pockets, and didn't get far into the store (5') when a staff member met me and I asked about a scratch ticket I was told to bring back from two days earlier. She said no, one goes online. Fine, I turned around and departed and then drove home with extra heavy gangstalking action, including the fire department and four police vehicles blocking the street I usually take, so I had to take a detour around this green area, driving on the wrong side of the road. I looked my vehicle over most carefully, but no fucking wallet.
I went back to the store and asked there, retraced my steps, looked under vehicles that were parked over top of where I had been when it happened, and the vehicular gangstalking legions seemed to have been doubled. No fucking wallet; it didn't go anywhere but in my hand, and yet it somehow went missing. I checked all floor surfaces, including the passenger side and seat-door space, to no avail. I was so infuriated I was ready to trash this place and my vehicle (while parked) to either find it or register my total rage over this Fuckover stunt, as it happened quite often, every two years or so before they went berserk/overt in 04-2002. Since then I have had one wallet theft (2004) and one wallet trashing in the laundry in 12 years of insane fucking abuse. (Read on).
Just to think; the sole reason for this abusive insanity of being a nonconsensual human experiment subject is that the perps don't want to declare themselves to their victims. And what is the reason for that? No one knows for sure, but I suspect it has something to do with the quantum energies associated with the measurement problem, and to have a fully unsuspecting subject, though I don't know where it goes from there, and it is likely that the street walker perps don't know either. And yes, I know the link is full of quantum-babble, but the nub of it is that an observer is part of a quantum energy activity (e.g. transference, transition event etc.) and the perps need to somehow eliminate the observer by taking them over in all their quantum energetic properties. A tall order to be sure, but they have only been abusing the shit out of me, figuratively and literally for 12 years and haven't let up yet.
06-07-2014
And was I allowed to talk directly with my daughter on her birthday today? No-sir, not allowed, per dictate of the Psychopathic Confederacy, the Relentless Abuse Division. Sure, I was allowed to "remember" (read, remotely applied recall deletion) unlike past years, but the phone tag went at least three rounds each.
And when I "happened" to check my vehicle again before setting off to do my weekly laundry at the laundromat, why, the freaking wallet was tucked between the passenger side and the door. Like WTF; I checked there at least twice and there was no fucking wallet there. So, it was either a teleport job, or else they blanked me out so I could not even know it was there while physically looking straight at it. They have been able to do object-based non-recognition games since about 2005, when one can see something and not know what it is, and then a few years later, not even see it (recognize it) while looking at the very object one is searching for at invoked consternation.
So, some new financial cards will arrive, (read new magnetic stripes), and single card for driver's licence and medical care instead of the two separate ones they formerly issued. Some cards (about four) will be retained, moved from the old wallet to the new one (read on), and of course the cash will be retained. Plus, a "spare" wallet that was (oddly) purchased extra in 2004 with the last wallet loss is now the wallet I will use. Call it a "blended wallet contents" test; new bill fold, new financial cards, some money from the old one along with some retained loyalty cards. Just to think, this is likely the culmination of a 10 year long plan to jerk me out of my wallet while having a spare one (in fallow) all this time. And why would I have brought such a useless thing when moving to Penticton in 2012?
06-08-2014 Sunday
I got a hike in today, though again, a herd at the top of McIntyre Bluff, and most strangely some five parties on the way up while I was returning, spaced about two minutes apart. They have laid off the heavy hiking gangstalk parties this year, apart from the herds at the destination, but have now returned to form with the multiple passing parties stalking.
Warm today, sunny was forecast, but lo, if a high cloud cover didn't move in and prevent any real tanning today. I was set to loaf for an hour of tanning time and they pulled this one for whatever reason. Though they did pull some sunlight on-off games later while reading The Scientist, an autobiography of John C. Lily MD. After that, came the nap attack.
I am still buzzed out from a 2.5 hour nap attack that began at 1600h, and here it is 1940h. Some sleep deficit, though they can fix that if they need to without sending me into near fugue state after the nap. Back in the high harassment days of 2002, they would have me drive the I-5 and I-90 all night and show up to work at 0800h at my IT office job and there would be absolutely no problem of tiredness. Once I would get back to my apartment at the end of the working day, say 1700h, the head pain beams would start up and I would only find relief by driving in my vehicle for another night time adventure, maybe picking up a few hours at a rest area, and perform another day of office work without tiredness.
I have never been a nap person until all this came down, but for the rare event, I would never suffer these incredible sufferings of being awake and not have the energy/ability to get up for a half hour or more, which is nearly standard for these nap attacks, perp induced of course.
And it is a good way to put a hole in one's day, forcing them off their intended accomplishment task list, also another perp interest item.
Anyhow, a tumultuous week has passed, all to ponder the games for this week.
A new "follower" I see this week; welcome to Malice In Blunderland, a near 60 year old MKULTRA case gets unconventionally abused nonstop for 12 years and counting and his family was in on it from the get-go. (Hence calling them the First Feral Family). And the abuses of three recall deleted years when aged 2 to 5, are a seeming problem for the rest of the human nonconsensual experimentation objective, so they inundate me with orchestrated abreactive freaks and follies to undo their psychic wreckage I was unaware of. It gets worse, but that is enough for anyone to be introduced to.
Monday, April 07, 2014
Double My Order
03-31-2014
Monday, always a high abuse day, though Fridays are catching up. Did more wine pumping to blend two vintages of the same grape, this time the owners leaving after I started and returning about when I had finished cleaning up. Funny how all these strategic departures when wine pumping; either blending, racking or filtering. Though, no major abuse/Fuckover hassle while they were away.
My order for rack mount brackets got screwed with; I have four pairs of slides which need four mounting brackets per pair, 16 in all. All that was clear, and "somehow" I got scrambled and ordered only 4 pairs when I needed 8. I emailed the ebay outfit over the weekend, but no answer, and they shipped the original order for 4 pairs. So I order another 4 pairs, and take a $50 hit again on shipping. Like WTF; what is the point of this senseless fuckery by scrambling my order and halving it and then foiling any recovery effort to get all 8 pairs shipped together? As most TI's will know, doing same thing more than once is just too hilarious for our Abuser-in-Chief. As for details, maybe it was that I was listening to Lindi Ortega when I ordered the first time, and Wanda Jackson the second time. Such details are truly vital to the perps for whatever reasons they have.
[04-01-2014 Update to above; the ebay outfit sent me an email to say they only had one pair left when their page/item counter said there were six pairs remaining (10 minus the first 4 I ordered. I cancelled the order as I need four more pairs. No doubt this order fuckery has more legs; e.g. getting another four from elsewhere and paying a three times as much. At least, they forced another delay of this wretched rack mount project I got stiffed with, as it has been two months since I got the mating slides and wanted to get a custom plexiglas spacer instead of these rack mount brackets. Such is life in the TI World].
Yoga class with the pixie this evening; they moved the British accented Man in Red to my L. with an intervening regular woman. This shorts wearing goof was kept without saying a peep this session, though he was a total rube to walk into the practice room with his shoes on, place his mat, and then depart for whatever reason, and come back changed. All the class at various times before it began, had to exit the practice room for whatever reason, and then return. Fits the pattern of entrances and exits, something like a farce, though deranged, protracted and out of control.
04-01-2014
Tuesday, and my first day of trying this Almased diet, though in fact it is likely to be hopeless. One, the perps can control how much weight one gains or loses based on past experience. Two, they just love me to look a overweight stalkers, the most Unfavored Fat People, and what better way than having the TI victim overweight? Three, the perps have been pumping the liposuction angle for years now, and with an evaluation visit to the doctor last year (01-2013), I suspect they aren't going to give up on this, despite my usual disregard of perp statements. (When they beat on a theme for years, like 8 or 10, it is very likely to happen that way, as much as one doesn't want to, as they are aces at planting rationalizations in mind).
Though, this Almased thing might have a purpose in food/color energetics games, being a light yellow powder color, and in a mid yellow container with a silver colored coating inside. They have laid on extra yellow colored gangstalking vehicles of late, especially today. And of all things they laid on three fugly colored vehicles in serial formation; a red, a mid-brown and a mustard yellow. This has NEVER happened all at once until yesterday for the very first time. I get plenty of red colored stalking vehicles, sometimes two dissimilar reds in file, and about 1% or less of the vehicular stalking parade is a red-yellow combination, usually bright red with bright yellow. But to insert one of their most reserved vehicle colors, (and loathed/Unfavored colors) between a red-yellow pair is truly exceptional.
Another perp coup was to cause my debit card to split into the chip area and have it "malfunction", with at least three freaks and two light camel colored dogs clustered behind me at the ATM yesterday. The gangstalking parade was at least doubled in driving in from the vineyard today, even a black vehicle passing a white vehicle at a blind bend, and the next oncoming vehicle was white. Then a vintage motorcycle with sidecar act got into it by leaning his motorbike over and elevating the sidecar in the opposite (oncoming) lane. This particular act has never done anything so stupid as this before, but someone needed the sidecar tire elevated and supplied him with the cash/motivation. It seemed like this elevated sidecar act was rather proficient, as he cut a straight line and wasn't wobbling any, though he could of been aided by some extra-gravitational support, all in a day at the office for the Fuckwits.
So... I stopped in at the bank and the customer service evaluated the card, and then concurred with my assessment the split in the plastic running into the chip area was the "problem". I had to supply my driver's licence for ID, and recieved a new card and left the old one behind. And have I not articulated the perp's intense interest in my wallet contents, especially related to the color and composition of bills? Many times, but this stunt of breaking the card and leaving it behind must of been exceptional, as there was at least 30 vehicles in the parking lot when there is no more than 10 for a Tuesday afternoon. And as I departed, why, five of them coalesced and arrived ahead of me, one being this fugly white and red splotch painted cube van with grey primer paint. Another great stunt/coup for wallet contents games today.
They even put on one of their very obvious finest to do a vehicular gangstalk after visiting the bank. The big black Suburban with tinted windows came for a cruise by. I haven't seen this particular one since about 08-2012.
Not to mention the morning time was highly irregular; they fucked me into sleeping in an extra hour, so it was just the Almased "meal", and shaving my face only. Very often on special Fuckover events they will have me shave just my face, nothing else, for all they like me to be shaved.
04-02-2014
Day 2 of this diet thing, and one more to go on the extreme front. And I see the perps dithered me, and had me eat 3 teaspoons of this special mix, instead of tablespoons. No wonder I felt a little faint today. The gangstalk crush was on; the very large and rotund apple farmer came to natter about the flail mower job he was to perform in the next few days. How did I know, I wasn't in on the discussions last year, and chances are, he would do it the same anyhow. Then the owners drove past the property while we were chatting, and then returned in a short time. Most strange, though I forget the excuse that was proferred at the apple farmer's question to the owner. Later in the afternoon the winemaker for the contract grape buyer came, and said he was in the neighborhood and thought he would drop in. No problem says me, and I direct him to where I thought the owner was. A few minutes later the owner makes some excuse to troop through the winery (two car garage), mentioning her husband was sleeping upstairs, and therefore she couldn't supply the visitors with a bottle of wine. Like WTF; I am the one that makes them up, so why not ask me? No answer.
04-03-2014
1235h A rare mid-day break from work as the boss is so fraught with making last minute additions to the wine that is to be filtered and bottled in two days. So I, (meaning perp planted notions) suggested going off to do errands for a few hours while he makes his mind up about the last minute additions. I didn't even know this was coming, let alone having to hang tough while this last minute hiatus was imposed. I can do my laundry at his place as a partial compensation. And do we know who likes to fuck with my laundry constantly? Why, the Psychopathic Confederacy who have stolen laundry, have their shills wear my clothes (just stolen) to orchestrating the detergent availability, to having Ms. C (in 2002) of the story volunteer to do my laundry, and of course, the relentless wackos and freaks at the laundromat and other semi-public locations like those common apartment locations. Even the coin collecting dweebes arranged their shift to coincide with mine for a few laundry visitations.
All the while strung out for the third and last day of this initial phase Almased diet, and with a few fluid ounces of wine in me, as I was doing wine tasting with the boss before I departed for this mid-day break. And lo, if the gangstalking pods weren't arranged for this time too, and not just for my usual day end parade. They even sprayed the road down with water and followed with a sweeping machine outside the vineyard. And no less, they did road spraying/cleaning this morning in town when I was passing through. Obviously there is a big expectation/jerkaround going on, as per the above confluence in events. Another was the next door neighbor apple farmer arriving on the just-wetted road in his blue tractor as I was about to depart the vineyard, having just closed the gate. This would make it the third time I have seen him in a week, and I don't see him more than 3x/year. Funny how that happens, these confluences of diet change, street wetting/cleaning eruptions, neighbors and of course the vehicular gangstalking, heavy on metallic maroon (deep red) colors.
04-04-2014
Wine filtering hell again, and no coincidence it was on a Friday when extra equipment cannot be acquired. If I had filtered yesterday like I planned, and the boss thwarted, I could of got an extra filter today, as the co-owner went to the wine supplies supplier today to get an extra 0.45 filter for tomorrow's bottling activity. The perps would screw me totally and constantly on setting shut-off valves the correct (intended) way, caused considerable problems with getting the filter housing screwed on, plugged up the cartridge filter, had hoses leak, had me "forget" which way to turn a screw, and endless insane insults on one's competance. The owners were away much of the time, and then would come by on their way through as they had to get a truck rented etc.
(What is it about threaded nuts and screws that drives the perps to such amazing relentless abuse?)
The boss' mircromanagement incursions resulted in a boneheaded idiot show, arranging the trailer ramp to be backed into a tree so I couldn't use it, forcing me to go over the trailer rail about 80x while tending to the three wine tanks in it (valves, floating lid gaskets inflation and deflation), and he never figured out that it was a total inconvenience. In other words, a self-saboteur without a sliver of cognizance as to what a major job impediment he created.
As I departed late today, why, the perps drove a pickup past me that was towing a trailer with a little one person gyrocopter, or helicopter on it. Last week on one of their considerable vehicular gangstalk parades, they were towing a small single engine aircraft on a trailer. And who knows what is inside all these mainly pickup towed black and white trailers anyhow? I got some aircraft flyovers today, a few helicopters and one small jet, possibly a military one. The usual high altitude jet aircraft were on duty with their muted roar and spewing contrails for whatever the perps get from that. I suspect it has something to do with delineating sky regions, and sometimes the contrails match local mountain peak angles.
04-05-2014
Bottling wine off-site, taking it there, and the mission was accomplishteed. Though the intense micro-management by the boss, fussed and yet not that capable of managerial insight, and was treating me like a child when I demontrated plenty of production line and warehousing smarts. (Having past work experience). Of course that doesn't bother a micromanager at all, seen to be a total idiot, who will never understand the trail of emotional wreckage they leave behind. He is a carbon copy of my father being such a person, and was I ever glad to leave the family home at age 18 and work elsewhere, anywhere, than be in such verbally abusive circumstances. And today, the perps pulled off the same thing with the same personality type; a over-mangaging and under-cognizant wind bag who thinks he always has a better perspective of what is important in any given situation and his directives are about 90% wrong and never, ever, validates the outcomes, and therefore learns nothing.
So..., a serious abreaction arrangement today along with personal space encroachments by most of the others. They cannot get onto the location I am standing at fast enough it seems.
04-06-2014 Sunday
Cleaning up tanks and fittings after yesterday's epic accomplishment. The perps kept in a dumbstruck mode, clogged and fogged so to make many more back and forth trips than I needed to. In the afternoon I was re-directed to do irrigation work, and help the next door apple farmer's son in connecting the irrigation system at the creek. The job site is a perfect perp location; four water supplies (lake, creek, well and bottled) and a power line covering the E side of the property. When connecting the water supply we found a 5" aluminum pipe that came apart at a joining fitting. I was my duty to raise it for the apple farmer's son to bang with a mallet and hammer while I was holding it up in an attempt to get the fitting back together. It was very difficult to remove with the bolts removed, and all were tight, so how did it come apart by itself? And too, it had rubber seals that popped out, and needed the guy to go back to his place to get more tools. It is very common for the perps to arrange entrances, exits and returns while keeping me in place. In this case it was forest cover, as the pipes run down beside the steep creek gully once being fed from a common weir. Once we fixed the pipe in the gully we went upstream to find a split in the aluminum pipe further upstream, As this was the end of our water line/creek gully work for the present. As it will "happen", the wine tank lids got cleaned with well water, and the tanks will get cleaned with lake water. Such things are important to the perps.
04-07-2014
A rare Monday off today, and I shall get this cleaned up and posted.
Monday, always a high abuse day, though Fridays are catching up. Did more wine pumping to blend two vintages of the same grape, this time the owners leaving after I started and returning about when I had finished cleaning up. Funny how all these strategic departures when wine pumping; either blending, racking or filtering. Though, no major abuse/Fuckover hassle while they were away.
My order for rack mount brackets got screwed with; I have four pairs of slides which need four mounting brackets per pair, 16 in all. All that was clear, and "somehow" I got scrambled and ordered only 4 pairs when I needed 8. I emailed the ebay outfit over the weekend, but no answer, and they shipped the original order for 4 pairs. So I order another 4 pairs, and take a $50 hit again on shipping. Like WTF; what is the point of this senseless fuckery by scrambling my order and halving it and then foiling any recovery effort to get all 8 pairs shipped together? As most TI's will know, doing same thing more than once is just too hilarious for our Abuser-in-Chief. As for details, maybe it was that I was listening to Lindi Ortega when I ordered the first time, and Wanda Jackson the second time. Such details are truly vital to the perps for whatever reasons they have.
[04-01-2014 Update to above; the ebay outfit sent me an email to say they only had one pair left when their page/item counter said there were six pairs remaining (10 minus the first 4 I ordered. I cancelled the order as I need four more pairs. No doubt this order fuckery has more legs; e.g. getting another four from elsewhere and paying a three times as much. At least, they forced another delay of this wretched rack mount project I got stiffed with, as it has been two months since I got the mating slides and wanted to get a custom plexiglas spacer instead of these rack mount brackets. Such is life in the TI World].
Yoga class with the pixie this evening; they moved the British accented Man in Red to my L. with an intervening regular woman. This shorts wearing goof was kept without saying a peep this session, though he was a total rube to walk into the practice room with his shoes on, place his mat, and then depart for whatever reason, and come back changed. All the class at various times before it began, had to exit the practice room for whatever reason, and then return. Fits the pattern of entrances and exits, something like a farce, though deranged, protracted and out of control.
04-01-2014
Tuesday, and my first day of trying this Almased diet, though in fact it is likely to be hopeless. One, the perps can control how much weight one gains or loses based on past experience. Two, they just love me to look a overweight stalkers, the most Unfavored Fat People, and what better way than having the TI victim overweight? Three, the perps have been pumping the liposuction angle for years now, and with an evaluation visit to the doctor last year (01-2013), I suspect they aren't going to give up on this, despite my usual disregard of perp statements. (When they beat on a theme for years, like 8 or 10, it is very likely to happen that way, as much as one doesn't want to, as they are aces at planting rationalizations in mind).
Though, this Almased thing might have a purpose in food/color energetics games, being a light yellow powder color, and in a mid yellow container with a silver colored coating inside. They have laid on extra yellow colored gangstalking vehicles of late, especially today. And of all things they laid on three fugly colored vehicles in serial formation; a red, a mid-brown and a mustard yellow. This has NEVER happened all at once until yesterday for the very first time. I get plenty of red colored stalking vehicles, sometimes two dissimilar reds in file, and about 1% or less of the vehicular stalking parade is a red-yellow combination, usually bright red with bright yellow. But to insert one of their most reserved vehicle colors, (and loathed/Unfavored colors) between a red-yellow pair is truly exceptional.
Another perp coup was to cause my debit card to split into the chip area and have it "malfunction", with at least three freaks and two light camel colored dogs clustered behind me at the ATM yesterday. The gangstalking parade was at least doubled in driving in from the vineyard today, even a black vehicle passing a white vehicle at a blind bend, and the next oncoming vehicle was white. Then a vintage motorcycle with sidecar act got into it by leaning his motorbike over and elevating the sidecar in the opposite (oncoming) lane. This particular act has never done anything so stupid as this before, but someone needed the sidecar tire elevated and supplied him with the cash/motivation. It seemed like this elevated sidecar act was rather proficient, as he cut a straight line and wasn't wobbling any, though he could of been aided by some extra-gravitational support, all in a day at the office for the Fuckwits.
So... I stopped in at the bank and the customer service evaluated the card, and then concurred with my assessment the split in the plastic running into the chip area was the "problem". I had to supply my driver's licence for ID, and recieved a new card and left the old one behind. And have I not articulated the perp's intense interest in my wallet contents, especially related to the color and composition of bills? Many times, but this stunt of breaking the card and leaving it behind must of been exceptional, as there was at least 30 vehicles in the parking lot when there is no more than 10 for a Tuesday afternoon. And as I departed, why, five of them coalesced and arrived ahead of me, one being this fugly white and red splotch painted cube van with grey primer paint. Another great stunt/coup for wallet contents games today.
They even put on one of their very obvious finest to do a vehicular gangstalk after visiting the bank. The big black Suburban with tinted windows came for a cruise by. I haven't seen this particular one since about 08-2012.
Not to mention the morning time was highly irregular; they fucked me into sleeping in an extra hour, so it was just the Almased "meal", and shaving my face only. Very often on special Fuckover events they will have me shave just my face, nothing else, for all they like me to be shaved.
04-02-2014
Day 2 of this diet thing, and one more to go on the extreme front. And I see the perps dithered me, and had me eat 3 teaspoons of this special mix, instead of tablespoons. No wonder I felt a little faint today. The gangstalk crush was on; the very large and rotund apple farmer came to natter about the flail mower job he was to perform in the next few days. How did I know, I wasn't in on the discussions last year, and chances are, he would do it the same anyhow. Then the owners drove past the property while we were chatting, and then returned in a short time. Most strange, though I forget the excuse that was proferred at the apple farmer's question to the owner. Later in the afternoon the winemaker for the contract grape buyer came, and said he was in the neighborhood and thought he would drop in. No problem says me, and I direct him to where I thought the owner was. A few minutes later the owner makes some excuse to troop through the winery (two car garage), mentioning her husband was sleeping upstairs, and therefore she couldn't supply the visitors with a bottle of wine. Like WTF; I am the one that makes them up, so why not ask me? No answer.
04-03-2014
1235h A rare mid-day break from work as the boss is so fraught with making last minute additions to the wine that is to be filtered and bottled in two days. So I, (meaning perp planted notions) suggested going off to do errands for a few hours while he makes his mind up about the last minute additions. I didn't even know this was coming, let alone having to hang tough while this last minute hiatus was imposed. I can do my laundry at his place as a partial compensation. And do we know who likes to fuck with my laundry constantly? Why, the Psychopathic Confederacy who have stolen laundry, have their shills wear my clothes (just stolen) to orchestrating the detergent availability, to having Ms. C (in 2002) of the story volunteer to do my laundry, and of course, the relentless wackos and freaks at the laundromat and other semi-public locations like those common apartment locations. Even the coin collecting dweebes arranged their shift to coincide with mine for a few laundry visitations.
All the while strung out for the third and last day of this initial phase Almased diet, and with a few fluid ounces of wine in me, as I was doing wine tasting with the boss before I departed for this mid-day break. And lo, if the gangstalking pods weren't arranged for this time too, and not just for my usual day end parade. They even sprayed the road down with water and followed with a sweeping machine outside the vineyard. And no less, they did road spraying/cleaning this morning in town when I was passing through. Obviously there is a big expectation/jerkaround going on, as per the above confluence in events. Another was the next door neighbor apple farmer arriving on the just-wetted road in his blue tractor as I was about to depart the vineyard, having just closed the gate. This would make it the third time I have seen him in a week, and I don't see him more than 3x/year. Funny how that happens, these confluences of diet change, street wetting/cleaning eruptions, neighbors and of course the vehicular gangstalking, heavy on metallic maroon (deep red) colors.
04-04-2014
Wine filtering hell again, and no coincidence it was on a Friday when extra equipment cannot be acquired. If I had filtered yesterday like I planned, and the boss thwarted, I could of got an extra filter today, as the co-owner went to the wine supplies supplier today to get an extra 0.45 filter for tomorrow's bottling activity. The perps would screw me totally and constantly on setting shut-off valves the correct (intended) way, caused considerable problems with getting the filter housing screwed on, plugged up the cartridge filter, had hoses leak, had me "forget" which way to turn a screw, and endless insane insults on one's competance. The owners were away much of the time, and then would come by on their way through as they had to get a truck rented etc.
(What is it about threaded nuts and screws that drives the perps to such amazing relentless abuse?)
The boss' mircromanagement incursions resulted in a boneheaded idiot show, arranging the trailer ramp to be backed into a tree so I couldn't use it, forcing me to go over the trailer rail about 80x while tending to the three wine tanks in it (valves, floating lid gaskets inflation and deflation), and he never figured out that it was a total inconvenience. In other words, a self-saboteur without a sliver of cognizance as to what a major job impediment he created.
As I departed late today, why, the perps drove a pickup past me that was towing a trailer with a little one person gyrocopter, or helicopter on it. Last week on one of their considerable vehicular gangstalk parades, they were towing a small single engine aircraft on a trailer. And who knows what is inside all these mainly pickup towed black and white trailers anyhow? I got some aircraft flyovers today, a few helicopters and one small jet, possibly a military one. The usual high altitude jet aircraft were on duty with their muted roar and spewing contrails for whatever the perps get from that. I suspect it has something to do with delineating sky regions, and sometimes the contrails match local mountain peak angles.
04-05-2014
Bottling wine off-site, taking it there, and the mission was accomplishteed. Though the intense micro-management by the boss, fussed and yet not that capable of managerial insight, and was treating me like a child when I demontrated plenty of production line and warehousing smarts. (Having past work experience). Of course that doesn't bother a micromanager at all, seen to be a total idiot, who will never understand the trail of emotional wreckage they leave behind. He is a carbon copy of my father being such a person, and was I ever glad to leave the family home at age 18 and work elsewhere, anywhere, than be in such verbally abusive circumstances. And today, the perps pulled off the same thing with the same personality type; a over-mangaging and under-cognizant wind bag who thinks he always has a better perspective of what is important in any given situation and his directives are about 90% wrong and never, ever, validates the outcomes, and therefore learns nothing.
So..., a serious abreaction arrangement today along with personal space encroachments by most of the others. They cannot get onto the location I am standing at fast enough it seems.
04-06-2014 Sunday
Cleaning up tanks and fittings after yesterday's epic accomplishment. The perps kept in a dumbstruck mode, clogged and fogged so to make many more back and forth trips than I needed to. In the afternoon I was re-directed to do irrigation work, and help the next door apple farmer's son in connecting the irrigation system at the creek. The job site is a perfect perp location; four water supplies (lake, creek, well and bottled) and a power line covering the E side of the property. When connecting the water supply we found a 5" aluminum pipe that came apart at a joining fitting. I was my duty to raise it for the apple farmer's son to bang with a mallet and hammer while I was holding it up in an attempt to get the fitting back together. It was very difficult to remove with the bolts removed, and all were tight, so how did it come apart by itself? And too, it had rubber seals that popped out, and needed the guy to go back to his place to get more tools. It is very common for the perps to arrange entrances, exits and returns while keeping me in place. In this case it was forest cover, as the pipes run down beside the steep creek gully once being fed from a common weir. Once we fixed the pipe in the gully we went upstream to find a split in the aluminum pipe further upstream, As this was the end of our water line/creek gully work for the present. As it will "happen", the wine tank lids got cleaned with well water, and the tanks will get cleaned with lake water. Such things are important to the perps.
04-07-2014
A rare Monday off today, and I shall get this cleaned up and posted.
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