Bottle Bashing

06-15-2015
I was on the bottling line today, that is, inside the mobile trailer and either "dumping glass", (unloading) or packing the filled bottles in the empty cases from the unloading. And of course, many occasions of glass bottles bashing each other, empty of filled. And do the perps ever love to create vibrations and noise from ceramics of glass banging on something. All the better if it is bottle-to-bottle etc.

The unloading is the more precarious task. The cases of boxes are upside down on a pallet load, and it is my job to ensure no bottles fall out and then at the feed point of the bottling line, pull up on the box to then have the 12 bottles on their bases and then ease them onto the 5" wide conveyor and making sure they all are standing up. And through the day, I lost four, which somehow eluded my detection at the outset and were on the ground when I first saw them. Funny how that happens, consistently being foiled and only noticing when it is too late. Though, given the generalized perp adversity, I should be thankful it wasn't four cases worth that ended up on the floor. Depending on the pallet loading, some cases are high and at the limit of my reach, and someone else usually helps to make them available. And of course, keeping one's hands on the bottom to prevent unexpected unloading.

On the case packing, the assholes pulled another of their mindfulness sabotage games, having me (inexplicably) two partially filled cases down the line, which was caught by the case sealing and labelling twosome. Never, in my entire life, save the last time doing this about a month ago, have I ever incompletely fulfilled my production line duties, from daffodil bulbs, potatoes, carrots, and tree seedlings. And of course I can count on the perps for these esoteric agricultural jobs, as I hadn't done any of the like until the assholes arrived in a fantastic display of high tech wizardry in my Seattle apartment in 04-2002.

On the yoga front, and all those spinal twists and turns, Star Girl made a now rare appearence and scooped my usual mat placement. She would of known that too, as she was once a regular and her usual mat location was beside the mirrors on the SW corner. (On mirror blocking duty seemingly). She arrived the same time as me, and got out of her vehicle adroitly timed to tail me into the building. Though she did deign to say "hello" in the parking lot, a first.


In the recent games of putting an unnatural red haired woman in my presence, the perps were on top of it. An unnatural red hair dye job was there for the first time, aided in the vile red show by her day-glo fuschia colored top. And to add more from the Unfavaored list, she had a pot belly and tattoos.

As always, I haven't really figured out what the yoga practice/gangstalk rotation is exactly, but who know what is going on with all those spinal twists the perps love so very much. Though, the attractive pixie instructor has been a constant.

06-16-2015
Still on bottling wine today, and "somehow: I dropped a single bottle, and never saw its trajectory until it hit my foot, to then break on the concrete below the bottling trailer, a 5" gap that wasn't there yesterday, per pallet placement. Thankfully that was the only one, and no case loads of dropped bottles,

A rash of box inserts dropping off today; those cardboard separators that separate each bottle in a cardboard case of 12. There was some 20, when ordinarily  there maybe less than five. Some cases had a gash or cut on them, also needing extra attention to get repaired. And lo, a case with a gash AND a box insert drop out "happened" together, immediately following a case with a gash.

The girl with the (natural) red hair and the orange pack came today, coming for a few days at a time like the last bottling.

06-17-2015
Onto vineyard work, with the bottling crew/noise working in the background. I was tucking, an ongoing job for the next three weeks I reckon. Tucking in placing the shoots, now 3' long or more, in between the horizontal trellis wires so they take on a vertical positioning, and that the fruit is grown in a predictable place on the vine.

At the end of day I dropped in on the alterations lady, as my last purchase PI tights had to be altered for length. And lo, if it wasn't a skunk jog.  A sign on the door, "Sorry...will be back in 20 minutes" message on the door, no doubt to play into the games of dashed expectations the assholes love so very much.

After two weeks of the PC headphones not working from Amazon, suddenly they work. Still no progress on getting the PC to play through a known device (disc player), which was working for all of a few days until it suddenly stopped. Seems to be problem for others on the web, trying all manner of obscure utilities.

06-18-2015
Skunked again on picking up my alterations ; "Back in 20 minutes". I have never had this problem with this particular dressmaker until this week, and it has erupted two days in succession.

Tucking vines in the vineyard, and a new guy,18 yo. or so, for temporary help in the vineyard. he did the scared shitless/ignore me act once introductions were over. Or at best, grunting as a form of acknowledgement, but not looking at me. Later he told me he did a good job and will be back tomorrow.


An earthquake this evening; a big boom, shook this detached house twice, and that was it, this was after my in-chair sleep, and I was active in the kitchen at the time. A rare instance when the assholes didn't have exam studying, on-the-phone events arranged simultaneously.

06-19-2015
Tucking in the vineyard all day, good sunny hot weather, which I now have come to like, ever since 2010 when the perps changed my temperature tolerance level, now at the point that is in excess of 40C.

After work on the errands shuttle, two strikeouts; the wretched alterations lady had that infernal sign up again, "Back in 20 minutes.." while the pit lamping (headlights on) mega dude with the big tattoos on his sizable arms and long hair strangely sat in his vehicle for the two minutes it took to park, walk to the store front, find it was closed (temporarily apparently) and for me to return to my vehicle and drive off, infuriated yet again, having three strikeouts in one week. The store is only open four days a week, and for three of them I was skunked. The Dashed Expectations theme again.

And if that weren't enough, I drove to the shoe maker to see about my boots that were delaminating in the sole, for the third time. Why the Fuckwit didn't repair all of the sole and not just the heels is beyond me, as he claims he fixes Chinese made boots and sells Canadian ones. I have only two pairs of work boots and he has the other pair as well, as they need to be re-soled. And lo, if he doesn't finish early on Fridays, as his hours indicated that he finishes up at 1600h on Fridays. Two skunks in succession, and we know who likes to pull that stunt don't we?

 Then off to get my vehicle fueled up, which is strangely going through a lot of gasoline and yet is driven fewer miles.

My debit card got messed up at the pump and I had to go inside to have it rest. After fueling the printer wouldn't print my receipt. On top of that the pump was extraordinarily slow, taking 2x as long. And have I mentioned how much the perps like to noisestalk or otherwise sabotage fuel transfers?

06-21-2014
Summer Solstice and Fathers Day all rolled into one. This being a Sunday, and as of Saturday evening, I hadn't received any mail, thinking I might get a card from my daughter for the second time ever. Weekly mail delivery is Mon. to Friday only, so I figured no card. But no, the landlord held my mail back and brought the envelope Sunday morning, placing it at the door for crissakes. Artful withholding of my mail to cause an incorrect notion to ponder. Haven't we done this a few hundred times or more, as in many hundreds of like events in any given year? Just the usual FUD-dery, as in Doubt this time. Or perhaps FUDE, as in E for Erroneous determination.

I went for a hike to a closer location, as both my heavy duty boots are out of action. The shoemaker has one pair that is there for new soles, and the other pair has the sole coming off in places on account of his earlier partial repairs that didn't last, entirely predictable IMHO.

This was meant to be a real trail, low grade (below 20%), as I was hiking in my runners. It was not to be, as the bull was at the gate, where the cattle guard is. Like WTF, this is inside a provincial park, and two kilometers closer than the last bull event of two years ago, when I had to abort a hike because of a threatening bull. A hiking couple arrived nearby, and told me there was a backwoods trail up the side hill, and the bull didn't bother them as it was in the opposite direction, and steep, some 80+%. I took this "route", as it was a scrambling trail with loose scree rock. So it would seem this entire adverse event was to get me hiking on difficult terrain in running shoes, which I never, ever use for rough ground. A total piss off, as I now had to negotiate difficult terrain in inappropriate footwear. And we know who exploits new situations don't we? Especially if it has something to do with one's balance.

I scrambled up enough terrain to find a rocky ledge to then get tanning for a few hours.

06-23-2014
Apologies for not getting this posted online two days ago, keeping to a weekly format, but I got hit with a baby ant invasion in the kitchen and all the duress that goes with cleaning it up.

One Hour Early

05-14-2013
I got royally screwed this morning. The perps controlled to alarm clock to ring one hour early, though it was a different ring, as it sounded only once. I got up, did all the morning time things like breakfast, showering, shaving etc. and set off to work. Only when I was 1 km away after a 20min. drive was I allowed to know that I was headed for work at 0600h, and not my usual 0700h. So... I turn around and hang out on the web for 20 minutes, looking up towable pallets, ones that can be moved on wheels on rough surface.

This notion of getting a towable pallet has has been planted in mind due to the cooler container being 200' away from the winery, and it is a packed surface, but not one that can be used with a pallet jack. (Or maybe not the one I am familiar with). The boss hasn't exactly been too interested in the concept, but keeping maturing wine and fermentations cool enough is very important. He agrees, and fobs me off with "we will do what we can". Like WTF; if you are in the commercial wine business, show some basic grasp of the business and act on it, instead of dishing out hoary evasions. What is that line about vision exceeding one's grasp?

05-15-2013
I got plenty of attention from the two males in the vineyard today, as in gangstalking (or pointless parading and emulating). This was at about 1000h when I put on sun block , a long time perp study objective, at my break time and just when the sun had come out and I was kneeling at the vines to prune out the canes that were not laid down on the trellis wire. One passes by for no seeming reason, and that "happened" to be to get the other so both could pass by from the opposite direction. The went and had a confab at the house for a while, one sitting in the same chair I had been sitting in only a few minutes before. (And where I applied the sun block lotions).

Sun block lotion, as well as shade and sunny areas are a constant perp study fixation. Most of my farm-worker colleagues who were participating would put on their sun block lotion at 0800h or so, while I put it on at the first break at 1000h. I have mentioned a past event in 2008 where I had my shirt off in the back of a farm field for maybe five minutes, and then the sun going behind a cloud suddenly and the air got cool to force me to put my shirt on again. My shirt wasn't on for a half minute when five different parties descended on me and the proximate area. All were doing their regular job, e.g. foreman, crates delivery truck etc., but it demonstrated to me the sub-second choreography that can also be timed to atmospheric conditions and the temperature of the air.

I told the vineyard owner he will be in the vinegar business if he does get on with getting his reefer running with the Acerbactor spoilage on 900L of cider I made for him. That seemed to motivate him into putting it on. He said he would do it two days ago and didn't. It is most strange to me how someone can profess to be driven to enter the commercial winemaking business and be so slack about attending to getting on with vital tasks. Naturally, he hasn't trained me on starting it up and the generator too, so he is the point man on keeping his cider cool. The problem is that it is in a IBC pallet tank which has a high surface area to volume. I sparge it with CO2 each time I open it up, but that hasn't helped. The owner has allowed about 4 drums of apple juice to self-ferment, so his track record isn't inspiring to say the least.

05-16-2013
I was pruning vines most of the day, so it is interesting to note when the noise games start. In the winter the vines are pruned to four canes (long shoots), and while still dormant, the vines are laid down on horizontal trellis wires, two per plant, one each side of the trunk. But it seems that the former crew missed a few, and so I take an upright  vine, a spare until cutworm season is over, and lay it down on the trellis wire. In the upright position the leaves are mostly horizontal, so when I lie the upright cane down on the wire, the leaves are angled vertically, though this will change inside a day or so as the plant will adapt its leaf orientation to the light source. It is the transition of these canes from vertical to horizontal that brings on associated extra noise; trucks, motorbikes, aircraft, hot-rod muffler noise etc. This would be noisestalking in my parlance, an flurry of noise from external sources for consistent actions on my part. But what I find interesting is that crop circle formations often have the upright (grain/grass usually) stalks turned in differing directions. So it would seem there is some intrinsic energetic plant response to its gravitation and solar source change that the perps are attempting to detect by remote means. I don't mean to sound conflationalist, but it seems so many themes related to aliens or conventional organizations cross this experiment for which I find myself the nonconsensual subject for. And no one in my family has filled me in on what happened to me from age 2 y.o. to 5 y.o., as nearly all memories have been deleted. And my recall should of been exceptionally vivid, returning to Montreal two years after the first stay, an academic year duration (8 months). You know the rest of this gripe.

05-17-2013
Fridays are the day of the week I usually start a new razor insert to shave with, and that will bring on all manner of crazy perp silliness. About 30% more vehicular gangstalk traffic at 0630h, and a few more brown colored vehicles among the regular phalanx of grayscale colors, white, silver grey, mid-greys and blacks. And major silliness in the parking lot outside this motel suite with a monster pickup parked across two stalls beside my own. And the " rigour" mud splatter too to then join the mini-van beside me with its new-found mudsplatter, identical light brown. Said mini-van has been parked in the same stall for two weeks, and somehow, in the evening gets a light spray of the same mud as the monster pickup. Go figure, as to how this happened/erupted.

And more noise at the aforementioned event of laying down a vine cane that was growing vertical. The aircraft noise has joined the noisestalk fray for this momentous event, as did the dirt-bike noise, and a string-trimmer. The adjacent farm had a very loud sneezing act going on, though I cannot recall what the simultaneous event was. The vehicular hot-rod noise continued; this one navy blue pickup seems to have nothing to do but drive by at least four times an hour. I got detailed for making up sample bottles of wine for the owner in the afternoon, a variation of this week's viticulture heavy activities.

And so the word "phototroph" [-n, an organism that obtains energy from sunlight for the synthesis of organic compounds] was planted in mind this morning to attempt to understand why the perps are so obsessed with the moment of placing a vertical plant cane to a horizontal trellis wire. Though when I looked it up, it really covers plants and fungi directly, not us humans. It is the properties of the sun that so fascinates the perps, not to mention the long past heliolithic civilizations [that involve sun worship] that the perps surely must of been following if you subscribe to the greater conspiracy model, one that precedes us TI's by millennia.

05-18-2013
The Saturday of a long weekend in this here part of North America. Though in fact I work two of the three days as the vineyard work has got to me done. Never mind the lack of staffing or the fact that 900L of cider has a spoilage growth floating on it. He doesn't seem to moved by the fact that he might have vinegar if he doesn't keep the temperature down to no more than 2C. Yesterday he was out of fuel for the cooler's generator, and it was 8C inside, going by the external thermograph. If the cider does spoil, I am sure the owner will turn on me as the culprit when it was his foot-dragging all along. I told him a two weeks ago he needed to get it into a floating lid tank, and he as done squat about it.

Then about 1330h I got my exposure to a fuel truck as it came then, and it was my responsibility to show him where the generator was. And of course I got discombobulated enough to then incurr extra driving and redoubling my tracks, plus walking and driving over where the fuel truck was parked. The fuel truck driver pulled a total bozo stunt in attempting to get in the container when I told him it was on the far end of it. Then he blocked the driveway with his truck and I had to take a long way around.

And heavy extra-conventional poking and jabbing this morning; at least 100x before I finished the morning routine. Then when out shopping at the very early, for me, Saturday grocery shopping, I had considerable vehicular gangstalking on the highway and in town. At one point they had six identical metallic maroon (deep red) color vehicles ahead of me in a single glance, and one behind me. A few minutes later they put on the exceptional show of four same metallic tan colored vehicles, in two lanes, two vehicles per lane in a formation of four.

And extra vagrants and Fat Folk (both highly Unfavored) in the stores this morning, on stand-around duty in these ridiculous street side conversations they engage in, all to be still there when I get out of the store, my pre and post store visitation stalkers.

So what was different this morning? For one, they limited the duration of my light brown (tan) colored hair conditioner to a minute or less. Ordinarily they have me with conditioner in my hair (now a white foam color) while shaving my face and front and then I go back for a short shower to remove it and the inevitable cut hairs and shaving foam. But "somehow" I "forgot" this year old habit to expedite cleaning up after shaving (my front and face), and didn't have the conditioner in my hair until the second shower, and for only a minute or so. And tney had me "forget" to shave my nether region, though they did allow me to perform the weekly shave of my arms. It may just be that these alterations/fuckery of my usual routine was the reason for extra amounts of vehicular gangstalking and imposed sensations of no apparent cause.


05-19-2013
Work on a long weekend... getting final vine pruning done. As above, plenty of extra noise each time I lay a vertical down an cane on the horizontal wire, about 2x/hour. Though different noises and noise blends; hot-rod mufflers, dog barkings, chat from the walkers, tractors, chain saws, HDmotorcycles etc. And only three forced pruning miscues today, where I "accidentally" cut the cane that is meant to be kept, as in tied to the horizontal wire. I had a check-three-times habit that saved me at least twice that, but I now know it too can be cognitively defeated.

And I see that my shopping cart got wiped out at a certain webside. What is the fucking point of this relentless juvenile pranks?

And from the No Ostensible Cause (NOC) collection of onging strangeness, these soft door whacks, every five seconds or so. All to compete with the bathroom wall whacks of the last six months or so.

I sense that I am getting cognitively clobbered to prevent new entries, so I shall post this.

Collision in the Chocolate Aisle

12-17-2012
The chocolate fuckery at LD this morning, (think brown color games). My mother doing the ditz-around needing to get gifts for service providers, in the chocolate aisle at a different LD store at 1000h. And as always, slowing up or splitting sideways to allow gangstalkers to pass between us or just plain deviating from my presence as she does with unerring frequency. So, while doing the scouting, and while in early shopping hours, for some reason at least five gangstalkers decended within a minute of arriving and did their choreography of rotating in and out and the ass bending faux shopping where projecting their ass into the aisle for maximum obstruction seems to be the real objective.

And while walking behind a standing gangstalker (bag- she was at least 60), who would of seen me, why she steps back with uncanny precision to plant her heel on my toe and I turn around and tell her loudly enough to watch where she is going. She does this atonement thing where she reaches out to me to touch me and I flick her arm off me. Anyhow, this deliberate contact-abusive fuckery has now escalated to a new level; I might have got the odd bump in the past but rarely. Anyhow, in keeping with the game, another gangstalker dressed in the same color, type and fleece fabric as my own vineyard work jacket (not that I was wearing it), comes in to talk to the step-on-me gangstalker as she saw what transpired (she didn't) and then as if to commiserate about my minimal reaction. I have seen this a number of times; one Fuckwit engages me with some stunt, enrages me, and then another gangstalker comes to talk to the offender as in a faux commiseration dialog. Ridiculous theatre. And my perp abetting mother doesn't say a word; conspicuous involvement IMHO, and she would of heard me say something in the store.

Chocolate, the prime brown colored food they have me "need" 3x100g/day normally, somehow isn't "needed" (per remote influencing) now that I have returned to this abuse and gangstalker town, Victoria BC Canada. And it is interesting  that they haven't even let me purchase the 100g addiction bars they have me eat 3x/day for ten years.

12-20-2017
So many perp orchestrated feints, dodges, stunts and the above mentioned affront over the last few days to mention in detail. I am never sure how much detail to add, I never seem to get TI's corroborating their experiences. Nor do I know if I am a top abusee, or if there are other TI's that get these second-by-second slings and arrows all day long. No one tells me squat, when they could, or would be moderately curious.

I am doing all the usual perp-needed activities; weeding, pruning, slinging and sieving this year's compost along with my outings downtown. Yesterday it was back to the automotive tire games again, finding out that the BC provincial website has got it wrong, or else I am being FUD-ded again as to what exactly a winter tire is. Even the local TV news has chimed in as to what a freaking "winter tire" is. Does it have a Mud+Snow rating or is it what should be called a "snow tire". Yesterday, the tire shop told me a winter tire is a "snow tire" with the snowflake and mountain logo on the side, not M+S. It isn't my money, but rims and tires are going to be over $1,000.

The tire shop said they would be 45 minutes, so I went to my former nearby tanning salon and got obstructed by a supposed customer ahead of me going through a whole lot of decision making. All for the E. Indian to pop out of a tanning room and walk past me in five minutes or so, over top of where I was standing, me getting out of his way to the door unlike the arranged dipshit door-obstructing gangstalkers I run into at every turn in this town. And what a freaking joke, having a dark E. Indian at a tanning salon for crissakes. Stupider and stupider is how it gets, a mantra that has served me well.

Anyhow, the tire shop hadn't got the tires on in 45 min. so I waited there while the dude parade started up, from the dapper to the shiftless to the uniformed. Then the tire installation dudes did their putzing with the stack of tires outside of the waiting area where I was sitting, said tires were outside the building in fact, plainly visible through the ample window glass. Another tire dude was inside, and was walking past some 15' away, and not even looking at the waiting area (only two of us) calls out "Ford Escape", and I say "yes" and he says they are working on it. I say fine, but no estimate of when it would be ready for crissakes, the minimal informational content one would expect instead of some senseless acknowledgement of the obvious. That might of been at 60 minutes after they started,  now 15 min. of waiting. Meanwhile the dude parade and male voice banter continued, but it is a tire shop though. Finally, after 90 minutes, the owner-manager says they couldn't find the right rims because of the hub size was different than expected and the tires couldn't fit. Like WTF; they would of known this in 5 or 10 minutes, not 90 minutes, as the snow tires were being put on separate rims which they had in stock. They didn't have to take any rims off or dismount the extant M+S tires first. Plus, they got books on all the hub sizes, rims, offsets and the rest of it, never mind having real experience with Ford Escapes as there are so many in this town. (I wonder why?) So, 90 minutes of getting sucked downtown to have a tan and watch the dude parade, never mind the vehicles passing by on the street some 40' away, me in the window. And never mind the above mentioned tire guy calling out "Ford Escape" for even less reason in retrospect. Has the automotive tire industry gone fucking nuts, from the BC provincial government to the local tire shop? Seemingly it has.

I bought 4 Pirelli P4 tires ($600 bill) from the same tire shop in April, and that didn't seem to earn me any respect either. I had come in the morning to find out what a winter tire was from all this FUD-dery (above), and then when I came back in the afternoon to drop $1,000 on snow tires and rims, they pretended they hadn't seen or recalled me from the morning (even after giving them the printed quote a reference I recieved in the morning). So, yes, the tire business, as it is arranged for me, is fucking nuts. All part of the perps and their insane obsession over tires, rotating objects, ashphalt and petroleum products. Go figure.

12-21-2012
Winter Solstice today; always a big perp harassment day, though apart from this morning's continued bizarre-ness at the above mentioned tire shop, I was back on gardening duty,- sieving and slinging the last of the compost that formed this year, and getting the pile built for next year. The hot-rod and other noisy muffler noise came on, as did the aircraft noise, and the neighborhood chainsaw started up again, like yesterday. The new neighbor dog, a brown hound of some kind, was give a plastic head thing to prevent it from scratching its purported veterinarian work at its head somewhere. Yessir, having brown dogs come and bark at me each day in the backyard isn't enough; now make them fubly brown coated and then add some plastic at the dog's head. Go figure.

The tire shop became the Tiresome Shop after this morning's bizarreness, extending that described above from two days ago. So instead of being friendly, as it was my third trip there in two three days, I get addressed as Mr. H....s (surname). The bastion of informal guyness, the local neighborhood tire shop, calls me by my surname for crissakes. OK, never mind, are the snow tires mounted on the rims, and they are and will be a half hour to mount. No problem, I repeat the exercise of two days ago, and visit my former neighborhood tanning salon, and notice the negro with a black toque bobbing up and down between the two parked cars outside. I get tanned, after finding my new bought-there tube of tanning intensifier had gone missing before I set off. Nothing new there, someone doesn't want me to use the product I purchased at the same store.

I get back to the tire store and they are backing up the Ford Escape, new snow tires on, and they stop it just outside the desk where I get my reciept from the counter guy who has either been ignoring me, and now has gone formal. I finish up at the desk inside of a minute or so, and lo, if the Ford Escape, only 4' away through the glass is gone. I go outside to look for it and it is nowhere, and lo, if someone doesn't want to drive in just where I am standing looking for the missing vehicle. I go inside and ask the other counter person where the vehicle is, and he doesn't answer me, pretending to be busy at the desk. So I wait in the waiting area, and wait for some real service. A few minutes later a red coat gortex anorak wearing male comes into the shop and says "where is my vehicle?". The first mentioned counter-person also arrives just then and says he will show him, and then waves at me and says "you will want to come too". I get it, from being ignored, to being "Mr." and now "you".

I walk behind my two male posse, the redcoat and the counter-person walking full 8' sidewalk apart a half block to the parking lot of a funeral home and as he gets to the Ford Escape, he says, "damn, I didn't meet the guy with the keys". He explains that he hasn't the keys for it as he thought the person who had them would be met enroute to the off-site parked Ford Escape. He asks me to wait at the vehicle until someone is sent around. The redcoat goes off to his vehicle, and I  waited by putzing with some pics and email on my phone, and after five minutes a tireshop Fuckwit arrives with the keys, and instead of a normal eye exchange, he gives me this leering extended stare. Like WTF; I dropped over $1,000 on tires and rims (and $700 in April this year), the vehicle is taken away within 30 seconds of me getting into it to drive it away, then we go half a block to find the keys aren't there, I stand around in a parking lot next to the vehicle with its new tires on it, and a participating Fuckwit delivers the keys and then stares at me? I get in the vehicle, with the removed M+S set of four tires on original rims in the vehicle, and lo, if the redcoat male Fuckwit doesn't then chose to drive away just then, some four parked vehicles away. He had over five minutes to drive off while I was standing around waiting for the keys to be delivered, and hangs around in his parked vehicle all the while, and then choses to precede me out of the parking lot. So yes, I will affirm that the tire shop and industry is fucking nuts, same as the perps and their ongoing inanity of having rotating, or formerly rotating (removed tire set) in my proximity.

And a few other vehicular hijinx on my two stop trip back, and even a cluster of seven same red colored vehicles arranged ahead of me. I haven't seen one like this in traffic since 2005 or so. Lucky me.

Anyhow, back to the First Feral Family house and compost slinging, weeding, pine needle mulch laydown and the rest of it with the ongoing vehicle muffler noise, aircraft noise etc. Relative bliss compared to the Tiresome Shop antics of this morning.

12-22-2012
A sudden surge of strange dudes in the local CT store at 1100h. None of the usual parking lot confusion games, in fact much less than usual, but there they were, one blocking the entrance to take the rude-dude title of the week. some 5' past the turnstile, and this Fuckwit takes it upon himself to read the flyer and obstruct the central aisle entrance to the store. All I wanted was Rain-X, the indispensible item for rain repellant windows on a vehicle as the bottle in my perp-abetting mother's vehicle had somehow almost run out though she never uses it. And I see her other automotive treatments also disappeared; car wax, which I know for sure she would never use. So who took it?

Anyhow, with enough dudes popping out behind every aisle end it was time to get the fuck out of CT, a gangstalk shit-hole almost as bad as Walmart. And a open checkout, but no, a dude steps in ahead of me and then reverses out for no reason. None of the "forgot something" act this time, he just turned around and headed out 4' from the checkout. Whatever, and so with the item paid for, and out the door, why, more dudes arrive from behind the corners of the building. Back at the vehicle and a cluster fuck erupts with some Fuckwit in one of those Fugly, but much perp loved, Chrysler 300 sedans somehow needs to take both lanes to make a R turn into a parking stall. And slowly too, all to occupy the ground over which I am to drive over in short order to make my exit from yet another over-gangstalked store.

Once I start applying the Rain-X to the vehicle back at the First Feral Family house, why, the neighborhood prattle starts up, more dude banter for me to overhear while using this much-loved perp product. And of course, even if I clean the glass twice, somehow a scuff of something sits in the middle of the windshield to obstruct this driver's vision. So.. having used up the old bottle of Rain-X by now, why, the perps needed a re-application of the just-purchased one. Exciting times in perpland and entirely in keeping with much of what gets used up, first noted when toilet rolls needed to be switched in mid-crap with alarming frequency. Now we have it that the windshield has applications from both bottles, the rear window just from the old bottle, and the side windows have Rain-X from the new bottle only. All this is of great excitement for the perps and is nothing new in their insane goings on. One day, if I ever get to find out what they put in this product, it might all make some sense.

And the arrivals of bits of sheet plastic in the compost handling continues; the pile is clean and sieved, I turn my back, return my gaze to where I was working, and lo, if some plastic didn't somehow arrive from nowhere. That, and the continuing street muffler noise and some motorcycles too. Interestingly, no aircraft (low, or noise only) and no sirens. The neighbor dog yapping kept up for over two hours though, but no wind to perturb compost pile building today.  Though, the neighborhood chain saw noise started up again, for the third day in succession, getting more distant each day. Funny how that "happens'.

Flight Time

06-16-2012
I fly out later today, so this is just to fill the time until I am ready to go.

A yoga class, and a Saturday one to avoid the Sunday one with the heavy breathing fat male who likes to get close. And lo, if they didn't put on a negro male and a blonde girl, with my vineyard work colleage (female, redhead), behind them. Said negro saw fit to remove his shirt for more brown exposure it would seem, and thankfully he was mostly hidden by his blonde babe. I don't why the perps are so fascinated with matching blonde Caucasian girls with male negroes, but it is nothing new to me. "Hide the negro" (Unfavored demographic group specimen) has become the operative word, just as "hide the brown vehicle" (Unfavored color) games when driving and surrounded by my gangstalking posse in their arranged formations to obstruct the particular vehicle until it is too close to do so.

And I did get at least three deep brown vehicles, in separate gangstalking vehicle streams when driving from the house to the tanning salon (five minutes). I stopped into this shared house at my room after yoga and the owner had the vaccum cleaner going, and only then did I phone to see if the tanning salon was availble, which it was. When I asked if the lie-down bed was avaiible soon, she said "1:30" when it was 11:30. I said something like "sooner than 1:30" and she said "I meant 11:30". Like WTF; I get all these over-obvious mistakes too often, and getting screwed around like this is plain fucking disturbed. And of course they screwed my out of having my watch on to immediately check the time, all in keeping with the perp's obsession over all details related to this concept as well as the general FUD agenda.

Then onto another perp event they dearly like me to be doing, tanning. This time it was at a salon, and with an extra contingent of vehciles around me, as I have never done a back-to-back yoga and tanning before. There were extra gangstalking vehicles sporting PVC pipe on my way, so who knows what this is about, again, nothing new.

And I am begining to find my Android phone is more useless that I expected. Yes, it takes pics, but how does one get them off? Only yesterday did I have to ask to find out how to access voice mail. By holding down the "1" key I was told at the counter, and was duly informed the adjacent symbol it was the "universal symbol for voice mail". Like WTF; I had cell phones before, and all I had to do was select the Voice Mail menu item, and I got there. But now, one has to decode this obscure symbol on a key that is clearly marked for another purpose. Owing to this undeclared wretched dual modality, if one holds the key for longer, you don't get a "1": but whatever the dumbassed symbol means. And lets be clear; the "universal symbol" is of a reel-to-reel tape deck, as obsolete as it is obscure. So who writes this, never mind the neanderthal-like penchant for obsolete motifs with a current day touch screen interface phone feature?

06-20-2012
Back in the land of the sunny Okanagan after four days in Victoria, British Columbia, the Gangstalking Capital of Canada. Soo... many gangstalking and perp set-up stunt to recount here, even if in summary form. The wheelbarrow tire idiocy continues, Westjet didn't even charge me for the extra box, very kind of them it was. And I got an 3/4" cold rolled length of steel as the new axle, after the culls at Casterland sent me the wrong size and weren't too sympathetic about redressing this screw-up. After plenty of extra attention from the vehicular gangstalking force on the way to the steel supplier, and then a mighty piss after I ordered it at the front counter, and lo, if it wasn't there ready on the counter after filling the toilet, (and flushing of course). Funny the steel wasn't warm from being cut in the saw, but who knows, as the perps seriously diverted me from observing matters with a forced visit to the toilet. I had the old part (5/8" diameter axle), recieved the new replacement 3/4" steel, and OMG, what a might vehicular gangstalking as I drove to downtown Victoria to do other errands. As of mid-April I have a mid-grey Toyota Camry, and lo, if the same mid-grey colored vehicles weren't out in force; adjacent, at intersections etc. I was finally allowed to "get it"; grey gangstalking vehicles, (I was driving my mother's barely metallic tan Ford Escape, brown interior though), and a chunk of grey steel in the vehicle.

Then onto an irrigation supply house to get some new parts for my mother's wretched sprinkler, though of good quality, it was beset by poor fittings. And lo, if they didn't put a negro pseudo-staff member on, almost as black as the ill-lit shop, the mofo coursing around behind me for no reason, asking someone else if they had been helped (how did he know who to ask as he wasn't observing?), then across the counter, and then aiding said customer at a counter section 90 degrees offset in keeping with the perp anisotropic energetic research. I had to wait five min. longer, and finally the store proprietor came by, casual like, distracted too, and I assumed he was drunk or stoned so irregular was his manner. I got helped at the counter by the 300lb Fat Man, another freak-du-jour, though he was friendly at least. And have I mentioned how often the perps hound my ass over water supply, pipe material, sprinkler head types and material, what crops got irrigated with what pipes, and then eating said crops? Many times, and I suppose a visit to the irrigation supply house was way too exciting for the perp sick-asses.

Then back to the First Feral Family house to deal with the wheelbarrow, but I ran out of steam when I couldn't get the U-bolts I was looking for. I settled for redi-rod and will have to bend it at a later date with a borrowed propane or hotter torch. I was reminded I did this wheelbarrow wheel and axle rebuild way back in 1996, when the then wheelbarrow was the only farm "vehicle" for the six acres I owned with the ex. Then it was a new wheel, a new axle of cold rolled steel, and consummating with a visit to the neighbor with a welding shop to heat and bang the purchased U-bolts to a new shape that I couldn't do myself. (Propane torches aren't hot enough to work steel I found out). And said wheelbarrow was the means by which the extensive alpaca poo was removed, and for so many other chores on this infernally prohibitive and demanding property at the time. And I believe I mentioned that I fixed 600' of waterline, putting in 2" PVC instead of steel and this deformed blue plastic line, as well as five connection boxes and many other irrigation upgrades, including 200 new spray heads for the one acre of kiwi fruit. I did all that wheelbarrow rebuild, water supply upgrade (and its use), and countless other agricultural activities that I have since been forced to do yet again since the perps went overt in 04-2002. No...sir, it wasn't enough to lose our shirts on that wretched hobby farm, they had to run me out of an IT job three years later and start me working as a peasant in the strawberry and daffodil fields begining in 2008 when they finally let me work again, for a pittance this time. Now, in 2012, they let me "graduate" to working in a vineyard, which is where I presently work until the harvest is over.

So yes, it would seem this four day visitation to Gangstalking and Nonconsensual Human Experimentation Central, Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, was indeed a significant test event as they have had me out of town since early 01-2012, apart from a post-viticulture course two week visit in April to purchase abovementioned Camry. The perps have a long history of sending me out of town after an educational experience, and it is most curious as to why.

I woke up Sunday morning, and my mother announced the neighborhood deer had somehow eluded the deer fencing I installed the year before (2011) and now ate some of her garden plants, namely tomatoes and runner beans. And that became the emergency I had to deal with for the four days, using the remainder of the 4' wide stucco wire from last year (2011). The 4'x4' garden bed had to be fenced as the beans got moved to it. The 8'x4' bed was done last year in chicken wire. I had the posts, and kept the intact chicken wire rolled up over the winter. I expected to only re-erect the posts, and unravel the chicken wire and tie it up like last year. BUT, the first oddity was that there was a splice in it when it was a continuous section, as chicken wire is hell to deal with once cut. Once the posts were up, the chicken wire was found to be woefully inadequate in length, like 10' missing of 24'. To remind my readers; this roll of chicken wire was 24' long, a single continous length, and fitted the 8'x4' garden bed all the way around. I took it down at the end of last year (fall 2011), stored it as a single roll, and what happened to it over the winter? Why, "someone" severed it in mid-span, cut out 10' and spliced the ends back together. The latter is no mean feat, as a 4' wide roll of chicken wire has very many ends to deal with and bend, twice for a lapped splice. Soo.. the story is, some insane Fuckwit stole 10' of 4' wide chicken wire from a mid-length roll of 24' and spliced it back together again (a 30 minute job by conventional means), all to mess me around so I had to shorten up the fence and re-locate two poles, for which I had already drilled and installed four galvanized 4" lag bolts. And given the number of times the perps have me install, and then remove fasteners (nails, screws, bolts, nuts etc.), one can be sure that this indeed might of been the central objective. As for their rationale, and what it is all about, I have no idea. This Chicken Wire Section Theft and Re-splice Event has to be one of the more obvious and totally insane extra-conventional jerkarounds of the past ten years. But it hasn't gone unnoticed the perps like to arrange wire mesh in my proximity, and by cranking on the suburban deer problem, they got their wish yet again.

And the above deer invasion became the new-emergency, perfectly timed it was to my first morning in Gangstalk Central and re-configuring my activities, errands etc. I had to put the wheebarrow steel axle away, after rubbing it down with grease so it would not rust. And lo, if some three hours later when driving on the above mentioned errand trip, they tailed me with a bulk lubricant semi-trailer tanker for ten minutes or so, in a distinctly residential district. Funny how the petroleum products harassment and stunts continue.

As well, the plant hormone games continue, my mother dutifully acquiring Miracle-Gro again, and leaving it on the kitchen counter, first unopened, and a day later, the box was opened. The active ingredient for said product is 2,4-D, but just a little so not to cause the plant to grow rapidly into indehiscence, which is what the herbicide form does. Funny, Miracle-Gro never puts the active ingredient on the packaging. It would seem that plant hormone manipulation is part of the perp agenda too, based how often this "happens" in this protracted hell that I have been cast into.

An uneventful 45 min. flight back, and plenty of red-dressed passengers on board. A seat row to myself next to the window, and a 45 min. reverie over the beautiful sunlit landscape and overflying some notable natural landmarks (the Lions peaks that overlook Vancouver BC, Garibaldi Park where I once worked for a summer). All to have me "forget" to read my book that I had arranged in the seatback after take-off. No good practice can go undisrupted in perp-land.

Another evening on this four day visit was a dinner with my farmworker colleague, one who makes that I am an interesting person and how she wants to meet up with me. And to be straight, there is no romantic interest on my part, it is she that pursues me, as it is clear she is connected to Fuckwit Central, and the gig was scripted. The waitress was a total blonde doll by comparison, and it is rare the perps let me have that much observation time with a pretty and personable young woman. I suppose this was the protracted plain-woman (colleague) to gorgeous woman (waitress) comparison outing/test, as normally the perps like to arrange fleeting Unfavored-Favored contrasts among the gangstalker encounters.

What followed was a classic perp stunt; the tanning salon I frequented last year was next door to the restaurant and I wanted some of the scentless tanning intensifier (not a colorant or bronzer). And lo, if they weren't out of it, and I cannot get this online anywhere, or where I now live, Penticton, BC. Having me get skunked, as in not finding/acquiring what I was looking for, is a long time perp arrangement, usually in concert with Fuckwit gangstalkers around me. Though this time, it was my erstwhile farm colleague, and post-dinner time too, and extra challenging moment for the perp's remote energetic reading/analysis on me. That a blonde babe was also at the counter to tell me that a shipment was due this week wasn't a coincidence either, borrowing from the waitresses' look.

A family outing the next afternoon and evening (yesterday), following my daughter's graduation from the local community college. Much pictures in the evening under the trees after dinner in a nearby Thai restaurant with family. And per cue, out came the smart phones, and later the iPad, all in keeping with the perp's preoccupation with proximate individuals to be looking at LED screens. I don't know what the perps derive from this activity, but it has been clear from early on, that they just love to have me looking at CRT or LED displays with personnel/family, or even in proximity in the case of gangstalkers. That my classmates in my 2009 Oracle DBA classes would have the same red covered netbook at their desk, passing it on to other classmates, taking turns with the same netbook from class to class. Can we get more fucking obvious than that, netbook/LED display stalking? A related item was the new Samsung Galaxy Note cell phone I had for a few days before I took it back. It had an OLED display on it. Whatever it is that the perps are pumping through the wires and cell phone aerials needs to be tested on me for differing kinds of glass, LED resolutions, LED type and all the other technical parameters like circuit board color, wire color etc.

And now back at the cramped shared house, I was put onto "shit refugee" status within a half hour of getting back. First I was distracted from unpacking my suitcase by the six week overly long delivery of my cellphone accessories that had been just delivered on the doorstep for my arrival. Soo..., I get to unpack a suitcase and briefcase along with sorting out my laundry and then attending to the new cellphone accessories. After changing into new clothes, the forced "need" to take a crap came on, and so off to the mall to use the shitter there after being burned with a sudden onset of blocked toilets at this shared house. (And one at the vineyard owner's house where I work, which was a total blatant sabotage event for the minimal toilet content). And lo, if there wasn't the coursing dudes, one of whom was the cell phone service attendant I encountered last week. Some of the dudes were assigned concurrent craps, but no toilet blocking. The toilet even flushed by itself afterward, twice. And lo, if my Phillipino (read, brown) women gangstalkers that led me to the washrooms weren't there on my exit, loitering in the nearby food mall.

Then a "need" came on to get a stack of 100g bars of chocolate while there at the nearby LD store, and lo, if one stalking/stocking twit wasn't handling deep brown letter boxes across the aisle in front of me on my way to the chocolate. Then a planted notion to get some cash at the nearby ATM and cash the yellow colored check my mother gave me before I departed in compensation for the expenses I incurred in dealing with fencing, irrigation and wheelbarrow tire projects.

And in keeping with the perp's brown imperative, mixed in with the irrigation research imperative, I see that my perp abetting mother purchased 50' of brown garden hose, still coiled. So we are now entering a new phase of perp research, mixing/integrating their brown color games with thier irrigation supply research, and presumably by extension, its downstream color energetic effects on the plants that consume such supplied water, and too, the food consumed therefrom. Sounds like another ten years of insane abusive and deranged nonconsensual human experimentation is planned out.

The Summer Soltice was today, another perp parameter I have come to find, though I have no idea if it was central to above planning/arrangements.

06-21-2012
First evening after yesterday's flight, and I was jerked out of sleeping mostly, awake at 0300h, up at 0400h. The next door roomie artfully times his getting up earlier to match mine so he is showering while I am using the same water supply to clean dishes (concurrent water use). At least the 10th time this has "happened" in three weeks.

On the vineyard job, I took off my shirt, and then sun went behind high cloud 10 min. later and thereafter for the remainder of the day.

06-22-2012
More vineyard work today, but no tanning due to overcast conditons. Lots of deep mid-grey clouds in the distance, and I suppose this was interesting to the perps, given that I now have and use a mid-grey colored vehicle. On the way home they tailed me with a same mid-grey colored pickup truck towing a white aluminum trailer, and in front of me was a new white Volvo S-60. It only took the Volvo designers 10 years to clean up the look of the rear trunk, tailights and bumper design, and I must say it looks halfway decent. The perps go to great lengths to have me see vehicles with attractive design aesthetics, and after the horrid jelly-bean job they did on Volvos in 2000, they finally got it about right. The perps wanted me to know, as it is rare that I personally encounter new vehicles, being so financially strapped. And the perps know I have a fondness for Volvos, being a near-perfect confluence of design integrity, features, quality and durability IMHO. And too, the perps had me owning Volvos for 20 years in the past, so there must be something in it for them. It is also interesting that they ply me with Saabs in the vehicular gangstalking, a Swedish vehicle manufacturer that might get their steel from the same source as Volvo.

Other games that are going on are having me not use my regular mid-grey handled shaving razor while visiting Victoria, per above. I had my hand on the shaving razor to pack it, but "somehow" it didn't get packed, so I used these wretched white handled BIC razors while there. I survived OK, it is just that arms and body shaving never got done, and I have caught up in the last few days, doing one each morning in conjunction with shaving my face.

Another shaving method variation as also been imposed; normally after my shower I shave by applying a hot face cloth to the area and then proceed to shave in discrete sections (e.g. five passes on my face). Two weeks ago, they had me "discover" that I didn't need to use the face cloth to soften the hairs as I was fresh from the shower. So this big "discovery" has meant that I can speed up shaving and not apply  the face cloth in advance of each discrete section that has shaving foam applied. Another adjunct to this was that I can take another short (sub-minute) shower to clean up my shaving hairs and foam all over me instead of using the face cloth, again in iterations to recharge it once it has loaded up. And because I must wait for the slow draining sink after shaving, I can take this second shaving-debris cleaning shower before the sink has finished draining. All  this must sound like boring triviality, but in fact, the perps have a huge vested interested in absolutely every aspect of shaving and towelling dry, so this is a SIGNIFICANT advent in them changing this long running routine. Do I care? No; just leave me the fuck alone is all I ask, and it isn't going to happen anytime soon if it took them ten years to get this far.

06-23-2012
A visit to the market in downtown Penticton where they block four blocks off for vendors who set up their stalls. The Fuckwit Crush was out, including the step-in-my-way rude shit by assholes who were looking at me from less that 3' away. I was finally allowed to find a salad mix on the return pass, and lo, within a minute, they didn't pull a rain shower to accompany me for the 10 min. walk back. And too, this fucks me up, as I want to clean up my grease spotted raingear outside, and ironically it is raining, same as two weeks ago. The landlady's dude/boyfriend had to come and walk the driveway while I had the bag of salad in hand, just as his landlady girlfriend had to arrive in the kitchen when I was putting it in the fridge. What a bag of salad mix can do in Perpland.

And I see they wiped out two paragraphs that I had entered this morning in this here blog, and I am just too annoyed to replicate it. Besides, the perps manage mood down to full level control, and so it goes, more of what I have written is deleted by THEM.

More order obstruction and blocking. I am attempting to get a sunshade for my vehicle, and lo, if the Billing-Shipping address mapping doesn't put me into Alaska after typing "British Columbia" in the first list. Then it magically corrects itself when requesting shipping options. Then it screwed me out of having my password entered, so once that it is re-entered I resubmit. And lo, if the the application doesn't blow up and spew a page full of errors. I go back one screen to get to my details (now keyed in twice), and lo, if they didn't time me out after one minute of aforementioned adversity. All this was subsequent to "inadvertent" deletion of my order in the first place, having switched from the always-compromised (partial display) Firefox to running IE in Firefox browser window. Which begs the question, why does this keep happening to me? Because there is a total adversity/coincidence  control office which oversees every aspect of what I do. I don't know how any reasonable person can come to any other conclusion after this same kind of abusive and obstructing inanity has been going on for ten fucking years.

Later, my first salad from above market shopping trip that I ate here in Penticton gets extra attention. The landlady was on the wireless phone talking all the time while I was eating it. (I was seated between her 10' away, and the reciever, 5' away, in the path of the EMF signals. Post lunch (salad now in me), she starts up the vacuum cleaning. And have I mentioned how often vacuum cleaning stalking erupts around me since the harassment began. At least 5x/year.

A 1.75 hour long forced nap after lunch, salad now digesting, which is way excessive when they screwed me into an extra two hours sleep last night. I suppose I could chalk this up to the post-salad consumption event.

An afternoon shopping trip, and why is it that so many people wander into my path and then don't make any effort to get out of it? I walk around them and lo, if they haven't turned yet again to walk at me, leading me to make extra effort to get out of their way. And they are uniformily trained to be totally blase/emotionless about it too. I have never met so many rude pedestrians since this abuse began.

Enough rants for the day, though further order obstructions did erupt, as it seems to be the day the assholes want me to put online shopping through, now four different orders on the day when I had been backlogged for months on getting on with them. They had me hold off until I moved in early June, and then kept up the sabotage and harassment plus the cell phone dysfunction games to distract me for a further three weeks. And so it goes, one slow weekend day.

06-24-2012
Another weekend day (Sunday), this time getting up at 0600h, which gave me 7 hours of sleep, more like normal. No one else was up, and I have yet to find out the source of the snoring I heard in the night and this morning. No one on the couch this time, and too loud for it to be from the detached garage where the landlady sleeps.

Just like last Sunday, yoga and then to the tanning salon, and still with this scented pong from the intensifier lotion. The thought of not using it just didn't occur to me.

The yoga class had the heavy breather dude again, he sdroitly getting in front of my view in the side mirror wall. Some people, usually the Unfavored specimens, need to be in my vision much more than others. The one delectable babe was obstructed by a chinless older blonde woman, and so it goes, sprinkle in a few Favoreds, and then plant an Unfavored in front of them.

After tanning, then to engage with the petroleum interest/stungs of the perps, they reminding me that I needed to fill the tank up again, having passed the desired filling station. So on my way back to fill the vehicle, why, a gasoline tanker truck was filling at the Chevron with the old pumps and I was on my way to the one, a quarter mile away at most, that had the familiar pumps. And lo, if the only availible pump was the one where the four in-ground tank filler ports where arranged,  me parking over top of them while I filled the vehicle. The prequisite hot-rod muffler noises started up while filling, and then the motorcycle noise was added to the noisescape. The perps made sure two motorcycles were on show, parked at a pump when selecting one to fill at. A three way vehicular clusterfuck when it came time to depart, a vehicle doing back-and-forths in front of me, someone waiting behind me, and two more sitting with their backup lights to get in the way. And so they did, one departing ahead of me and the other departing behind me.

The perps pulled a rainstorm while I was tanning, and so that was my greeting upon exiting the salon and walking to my vehicle. The trip to the gasoline station, while filling the tank, and driving back to my roomie hell was duly rained upon. Even if there was some sun and blue sky, someone likes to arrange rainstorms more than is coincidence for key Fuckover events (e.g. tanning, gasoline filling).

More of the protracted impasse over getting files onto the Android phone's SD card. I see that I am not alone as this generates plenty of web traffic, though none that seems to help me. And too, the perps could be up to their usual cognition abuse games, and have me all over the solution but unable to effect one. This is the stuff of what they like doing best; cognition disruption. After the color coordinated gangstalkers (both ambulatory and vehicular), the dogs and kids they like to put out, the vacuum cleaners, ladders, backpacks, plastic shopping bags, the vagrants, the cell phoners, and other assorted Unfavored Fuckwits, hammering my ability to percieve things comes next. Who knew that abuse could be so subtlely appplied?

Anyhow, I am going to publish this now (06-24-2012, 1420h PDT) and if anything eventful erupts for the remainder of the day, I will append it below.

Burn it Down

04-05-2012
The nonsense/wanton damage has begun here too, a fire at a nightclub downtown in this town of pop. 35,000. While I cannot legitimately claim that the fire is related to the perp's doing, nothing in my life is a coincidence, and this might be another. A whole lot of fires this winter all over the northern hemisphere. But at least we had above freezing weather so no icing issues. I have come to learn the perps like a good fire, and like to have me "encounter" them, once when I driving back from hiking was memorable, as the yellow Victoria firetruck was crossing the highway median as was driving nearby, when the red firetrucks of Saanich were all dispatched and visibly engaged with firefighting duties. However, that "coincidence", isn't going to make headlines anywhere. Nor is the perp propensity to have a Fuckwit flick on their lighter when on board the city bus, as a lightsource "need" for said Fuckwit to look inside a dark bag. Fucking absurd, and so was the phalanx of the Fuckwits around him, pretending that nothing out of order. But as JK Harms says (parent link here), a fire is a "time space ripper", whatever that is and whatever that buys for the psychopathically insane perp agenda.

Sparks are a differential of electric forces (charge), whereas flames are a differential of heat. In both cases, the sparks or flames are attempts by nature to seek equilibrium (seeking a zero curvature) by maximizing entropy. It follows that since flames increase entropy, so also must sparks. A spark, therefore, also decreases the Universe's local curvature. In addition, if one didn't already know that a spark can cause a flame, one might predict (knowing their relationship) that this true. Indeed, conversely, flames also occasionally may shoot sparks....

A flame is a "tear" in the fabric of space-time and closely related to a spark which is pictured as a "crack" in space-time. Both are physical separations of the grid-like quantum foam structure, revealing hyperspace.

And too, he mentions explosions in the above link, and my, we have had plenty of those worldwide since my overt harssment began in 04-2002. And all those Fuckwits (ostensibly patients) were doing strange slow walking backwards from the TV (read magnetic field from a CRT TV), when I was illegally incarcerated at the hospital back then too. The topical content at the time was the Iraq war onset and it just might be that the two events were timed together. If they had been covertly surveillling and scripting my life for 47 years as it was then, and overtly abusing me for another ten so far, they aren't going to let this fish go until the abuse agenda has run to the max.

What is with the college library that they cannot give me the usual courtesy notices for everyone else. I am talking about the till-tape like piece of paper that lists the books I just signed out. The first four times I didn`t get any till-tape and no explanation as to why not, and then the fifth time I didn`t, but when moving the borrowed books on my desk back in my suite, why, there it is. Not only listing the books I just took out, but a current update on all my borrowed books from prior visitations. These incremental notices or procedures of finding out the basics just astounds me as to who would arrange this level of micro-managed hell, let alone get the library staff in on the gig.

02-07-2012
The ex on my mother's behalf (though, she didn`t indicate as much) was to arrive at 0930h today, get the keys hidden on the vehicle and drive it back to my mothers`to Victoria, BC. But the vehicle was still here when I finished classes and no phone message or email to tell me what is going on. So... the perps wanted the keys to sit over the filler cap for all day, have me pick them up in the afternoon and then keep them in my pocket, where they are now. And how many times have I mentioned the perp imperative over petroleum fuels, gangstalking me with fuel tankers no less, over 3x/week or more. and it just might be that oil spills have their fingerprints on them too. A local watershed suffered a fuel tanker spill last year, and one can be sure that anything doesn't move in Victoria, BC unless is is sanctioned by the Psychopathic Confederacy. And likely here too, with another run of retards around me at the lunch table, bringing them in just for the event, and then a second one came in just as I was leaving, the building egress gangstalking games again.

AS it happened (har, har), the ex finally sent me an email, and she couldn't get into Pentiction.
An later attempt was coming later via Kelowna, but the flight couldn't make it there, so now back in Vancouver. Someone wants her winging overhead while I am here on the ground. Surely they could have her sent in a private airplane and try all of this without my knowledge?

Then this nonsense over the gym-weight room key access card was too strange. I retrieve it from the person at the weight room counter who doesn`t inform as to how to use it. So when I wave it in front of the lock and it doesn`t work. I go back to the dude who gave it to me, and he explains it has to be initialized on a card reader some 30`away on the outside of the doors to outside the building. I attempt to do this and it still doesn`t work, so I tell the dude who now deigns to get off his butt and outside of the room with the counter. At this point a woman comes along with the same problem and the three of us go to the card reader. Her card works, mine doesn`t and the dude tells me he will let me in and will try to `fix the card` himself. No problem, he puts it back in the box of cards that are to be picked up.

I come back to the gym-weight room two days later and a woman is there, and I ask her for my card, and she gives it to me. After dressing for the weight room, I find the card does not open the door again. I tell her that the card had already been initialized, but she said it has to be done each day I want to use it. A first in my experience, updating an access card every day. I go to the card scanner outside the building doors, and it beeps and cheeps with green flashing lights to tell me the card had been initialized. So I use it, and it works. Like WTF; the dude doesn`t tell me that the card needs to be initialized, and when it doesn`t work he makes some BS up about ``fixing it`, when in fact it has to be scanned each day that I want to use it, there is no semester-long access settings on this type of access card. So this fucking dude not only witheld vital information on how to first use the card, but made some patent BS up as to how or when to scan it, saying that he could fix it. Yet again, this incremental exposure to the gym card functionality along with prevarications as to how to use it. And also having me handle the card and then surrender it for a few days. Exciting moments in perp research, now nearly ten years long.

02-08-2012
My turn to get testy in class so to speak; getting docked marks for using big words (microfauna and macrofauna) that weren't in the course book. Well, they were, someone looked for me and so I got the marks. Seeing the near exact same thing happened in the other course, I cannot imagine it to be anything less than arranged. Especially when everyone else goes quiet, pretending not to have the same problem. But on the previous quiz two others near me, and whom I regularly see at lunch, they got burned by misinterpreted questions that the instructor wasn`t being fair about.

A negro male at the next lunch table, doing his converstation standing up for some curious reason when he was beside an empty chair. Also, the retards were busy fluxing around according to some unseen command. All the Unfavoreds, from them to the shiftless dudes like to hang behind the babe in the course who I regularly share lunch with, and two more males arrive thereafter. The same drill, just different males, but not the freaks.

And what is with the MEC site? Down on the day I was to execute my order that was sitting in the Shopping Cart (yesterday), but up today, and after re-jigging the order (and finding a lower priced substitute item that somehow didn't show up the first time), why, the Proceed to Checkout button is missing and another one not working. Eventually, as I waved the mouse over the bottom corner of the dialog box, why, the mouse pointer hand symbol pops up, signifying a missing button/selection on the screen, which turns out to be the checkout. Just like the Amazon site as I get to see it; hidden functionality by way of unseen buttons

A half day presentation from FARSHA,, the Farm And Ranch Safety Association. Only in my fourth year of farming work (2011) did I know that they existed. Even then, they spoke with the Mexicans with a translator, and didn't speak to us locals. Today, I got to find out what they do for farmworker safety, and wasn't allowed to mention this lapse in class. Funny how this bullshit happens, these incremental exposures to persons, agencies or even the gym.

On the heels of making an online order, I then was ten minutes into studying, then a two hour forced nap when I wasn't tired. The phone awakened me and a 20 minute call from the farmworker colleague who won't go away (lives in Victoria and is taking a horticulture course). And too, she dropping the "John, dear" line was too cute. Get it; John Deere tractors are topical for me these days, when in the viticulture class. I felt totally out of it, coming off a major nap, then into a phone call at some length. And of course, she hitting on the usual perp interest topics-themes, like getting work (or not), who to apply to, would I consider working in other countries (what a joke, for a farmworker), then more useless suggestions as to who I could phone, etc. Fucking tiresome this obviously feigned friendliness.

No more vehicle at my disposal; the ex flew up and retrieved it today. In-town brother with his unused and reliable vehicle at his disposal with access to two more that he prefers, didn't change his tune any, even if he did return from five weeks away in Thailand with his sort-of girlfriend who lives in his house.

02-09-2012
The final vitculture exam tomorrow morning, so I must get on with studying after last evening`s two lost hours. I saw that yet more retards were populated around me at lunch, and one dogging me on my way to the can, arranged to be in my way. What is with is bullshit. And why the Greyhound buses and a van hounding my ass? Was it because the ex took the Greyhound from Kelowna to Penticton when she picked up the car yesterday? No idea.

What's with my classmate`s coordinated males arriving together from an unusual direction at lunch time? I was seated at the table and the class babe (40-ish, married) was opposite, with the usual parade of freaks, Unfavoreds and aforementioned retards coursing around behind her, when the two male classmates both decided (har, har) to take he long way around together and immediately arrive at the same instant, one on my right, the other on my left. I could swear they teleported in from 100' away, or else had incredible coordination to arrive simultaneously. I didn`t see them coming through the normal shorter route where I was looking, nor did I hear them coming, they each arrived at the same instant, one on each side of me. Like WTF; I have never seen something so casual be so contrived before, so either someone fucked me out of seeing or hearing them arrive, even if it was from behind me, or else they teleported in. But as the perps routinely arrange seeming diparate males (sometimes injecting a woman into the mix), to be converging on me when in public areas, or have them four and five abreast for some curious reason, I shouldn`t be so surprised at this unusual arrival behavior of my male classmates.

Plenty of plasmic spatter today, often yellow colored between me and the instructor, he not letting on that he saw any, ditto for everyone else. And more beserk road traffic congestion today, like yesterday, when returning to find aforesaid vehicle gone.

02-10-2012
The viticulture final exam was duly written, 1.5 hours, but not the first to leave by any means as the perps were busy screwing me around as to what I recalled, study, or rarely, didn't. The instructor indicated a pub meet/lunch afterwards, and I first did a 30 min. workout at the college weight room, and then walked it to the pub. I asked the instructor if the pub was on Westminister, as I am walking everywhere now, and he said it was. So I walked there, and no it wasn't, but not very far away on Eckhardt/Hwy 97. Why is it that I ask the most direct questions and get fucked around so often, as in getting a totally wrong answer. He has lived here for two years, and I for one month, and he cannot tell me where the KVR pub is; like WTF?

And it wasn't enough to have a skinhead in the class at the table, a nice guy for the little that I know him. But no, there he was at the table with my classmates, and lo, if two more skinhead males weren't stationed around this table, one in direct line of sight. Then a babe with a leg in a plastic cast was at the next table with a dude, and later they added a younger woman with puffy cheeks and forehead to sit behind someone else at the table. She had jet black hair, and wasn't terribly attractive, but sure enough, the perps made sure that I viewed her plenty more than I would of done myself, effectively bounded between two males from my class, though she was 10' further back. And how often have I mentioned these "boundings", putting the featured person, babe (Favored) or freak (Unfavored), between two other persons who are much closer, (this time two that I know), and have a narrow viewing window between them. (Question marks are screwed up still). More times than I recall, though I don`t see a convenient label for this long running perp arrangement stunt.

I shall post this now (Friday, Feb. 10, 2012), even if a weekend to go, as I cannot predict if I will get to it. Nothing too exciting is planned, and that includes decoding the bus routes and taking one to the tanning salon. Vanity was never my thing, but is now.

Out Time Before Gardening Time

1930h
More variations on gardening, as in weeding and soil digging, at the First Feral Family house today. I was out for coffee with a former work colleague until 1030h, then back to this apartment to then phone my perp abetting mother, and she told me that the in-town brother was in my neighborhood. So I called him, and he said he would come by, and so it "happened" that he drove into my regular outbound downtown bus stop just as I arrived there too. So, I get a ride where normally I wait for my bus. And not to forget that when picking daffodils last month, the crew bus would drop me off at the same location. Here we have bus-vehicle-same bus stop convergence, as in testing more combinations and permutations over where and how I get a ride at this same location. Exciting for the perps, but it tells me that they are sucking wind (literally with their vacuum cleaning games), if this is what they are pissing with after nine years of this depraved and insane abuse. Another deflating moment for me at least.

Interesting though, my colleague was without her smirk that was noticeable at our last encounter about a week ago. I have no idea what drives the "smirk look", whether something humorous was revealed in advance or do the perps intervene and have her wear it.

Yesterday was a big digging day too; weeding in other beds, with a huge mound of weeds, 6'x6' and 1' high, still with lots of soil attached to the roots.

But the noisescape, as presented in suburbia, starts the same way. First the STRATCOM bombers overhead, at least three in the first hour, and then the local aircraft are buzzing overhead. Then neighbor noise, either lawnmowers, or today, a gasoline powered string trimmer from a neighbor. Then on the nearby street, San Juan, the heavy duty rattling diesels and the performance muffler noises start up, giving way to hotrod muffler noise for the last two hours of digging. And what noise do I hear when I get back to my place? Why more freaking hotrod muffler noise. So I look outside to see the offending vehicle, and there was nothing but generic sedans which are almost never modified. Per usual, if I challenge to see the offending vehicle, and it isn't there, the noise drops off real fast.

2215h
Reading tonight, with the Harley motorcycle noise getting through my earmuffs somehow. Plus some overhead pounding too, another mysterious noise event given that there is 12" of concrete and steel between floors/ceilings.

And an update on what I suspect the perps pulled off in this region, given their preoccupation with petroleum products and how they love to hound me with gasoline and heating fuel tankers. A tractor trailer tanker crashed on the highway area we call the Malahat, and dumped 42,000 liters of gasoline into the Goldstream River drainage, less than 100m from the river itself. The highway was closed for nearly 24 hours until the mess was cleaned up, but apparently it still smells bad, some three days later.

And to note, the Goldstream River was the one that someone put flourescent dye in 12-2010 and made the water turn green. Also coincidentally, (used advisedly), someone put the same flourescent dye in public fountains recently, per news article.

I did fill up my mother's vehicle yesterday after a protracted round of taking her places, duly gangstalked with all manner of acts. I suppose there is nothing too conspiratorial in filling up a vehicle, as I do this  a dozen times per year or so. Regular readers and TI's will know there isn't an nano-second in my existence that isn't governed, scripted and controlled by my keepers, but I only mention this should other TI's have perp harassment and stunts that involve petroleum products. And as for those very big spills like a year ago in the Gulf of Mexico, I am sure the perps are up to something for all that I sense their involvment in (managed) world events.  I don't go big into conspiracy theories here, but it is most interesting to observe the similarities that I get to observe that appear to have some connection with this intensified abusive harassment regimen they keep me in.

Same deal both days, today and yesterday, in taking the city bus into downtown from suburbia in the evening. Some 20 to 30 passengers on the bus at that time of day? What a joke, especially now that the Stanley Cup playoffs are underway. One dude came onto the bus with his partial case of beer, a seeming leftover from his visitation to his pals over watching hockey on TV. I haven't seen anyone do this for over 30 years, college days; the dude takes the "loser cruiser" to visit his pals. Right. More like it was for brown colored glass with amber liquid inside for a mobile gangstalking color reference. And that he hung around for five minutes at the same bus stop I was at surely wasn't coincidental.

Anyhow, there is much more I could write, but I am having a "writer block", meaning I am getting messed with as to what to write about. Censorship by mind-control, a new twist on self-censorship.

Stolen Work Items

Feb. 18, 2011, 2125h
And eventful day given that I have only just recovered from the flu, but it was of necessity due to the fact that daffodil picking has slowed down and there won't be any work until at least Feb. 22. Never mind that 30 permit Mexicans arrived yesterday to do picking work and that the weather has got cold and the daffocils are already behind from last year.

But I "decided" that given it was Friday, and I won't get to the farm until Feb. 22, I would drive out to the farm and get my paycheck and retrieve my raingear to clean it up from the mud. Which of course, means borrowing my mother's vehicle and taking it there, as the city bus would take forever. My mother wanted to come along, and so it was thus. But first to fill the fuel tank, and lo, if there wasn't a gasoline tanker and its pup trailer parked at the gasoline station, and presumably filling the underground tanks, as the large hoses were connected to the in-ground connections. And so, while the fuel station tanks were being filled, I filled the vehicle's tank. The significance of this isn't totally known to me, but the perps go to great lengths to expose me to petroleum products, this has to be one of the more obvious ones. Anytime I go past a fuel station, even if late Sunday evening, there is a very good chance there is a fuel tanker vehicle there as well. But this was a first, having the tanker and pup parked there while I filled the vehicle up.

Then my mother needed to go to the bank, in a mall opposite of the fuel station, and so I drove, parked and waited there. When done, I drove out again, and saw that the fuel tanker was parked 180 degrees reversed, and closer to the road, bounding the location where I filled up the vehicle. How they moved that colossus fuel tanker inside the confines of fuel station property in such a short time I will never know, and for what purpose more to the point. A full on parade of grey-scale vehicles was our gangtalking escort, with the odd red one inserted at various intervals.

And while filling the vehicle, the perps put on the fugliest negro (Unfavored)gangstalker to date; this time, on a bicycle, black as the ace of spades and with dreadlock (much Unfavored) hair that was dyed a dark green. I hope never to see such fugliness again, but I am sure that won't happen.

And then when at the farm, I go to the crew locker room and discover they "cleaned it", and in doing so, cut the locks off the lockers, including mine. The lock had only been on there for a week so it wasn't as if this was a long term habituation issue. They had a big bin in the center of the room where the supposed retrieval items were heaped. One of the staff said that this is what they were instructed to do, and I asked where was my duffel bag that was inside the locker? And where were my gumboots that weren't in the locker, left out because they were wet? Don't know, and after looking through the bin, the items were not there. But somehow, my raingear, also left out to dry, survived this ersatz cleaning drive. After rooting around for a few minutes I gave up on expecting to find my items.

Which might of been what is was all about, to rile me up prior to getting my paycheck from the office, though I was the model of probity and didn't get into any "behavioural" rants or even suggest that having one's items taken from a locked locker is totally outrageous to the office staff. I dutifuly collect my paycheck and they had the bunch count identical to those of my notes, a truly rare moment. Last year they had the bunch count out by an even multiple of 75, which I drew to their attention, and got blown off about them looking into it. (And lo, if the bunch count wasn't corrected on the next check). And regular readers will know that the perps are totally consumed with the concepts of pay, remuneration and compensation, so getting me pissed off in advance of getting my paycheck was just the usual game of pissing me off, though with other's directed actions and not the unconventional gravitic fuckery that goes down in this apartment all day long.



Then a grocery shop with my mother at the Peninsual Coop, where I once shopped back in 1996 to 1999, also duly gangstalked with the male vagrant freaks that find me everywhere I go. Then back to the FFF house, with large trains of oncoming highway traffic at 1400h, most odd for commuters in this town. And then I hosed down the raingear there as there is space to do it on the outdoor patio area. I also laundered my pack in the utility sink as well, it too getting muddied up on the lastmost daffodil picking day. As mentioned many times on this blog, the perps have an ongoing obsession with dirt, that is, soil, and its provenance (where it is from). Having the muddied backpack sit around for four days at this apartment and then getting it cleaned at the FFF house was also part of the plan. The number of times I have had dirt lathered on my vehicles in the past cannot be counted, as I did plenty of backroad driving in my forestry crew days, and it would seem that the relocation of soil, and whatever energetics properties it has, is a vital perp reserarch topic.


Next Day, Feb. 19, 2011
1410h
A new all-time record for perp enforced sleep time, a 12 hour sleep for no reason except that they wanted me to have breakfast at noon. The thought of skipping breakfast starting with lunch wasn't allowed it would seem. Then plenty of crumb provocations in the bathroom, with chia seeds arriving from nowhere, though I did purchase some last week, and they are in the fridge, but how they continue to end up on the towel, in the bathroom sink, and refuse to go down the drain with the water running would be perp fuckery to raise the rage-ifcaton level in advance of vacuuming the carpet afterward.

And after yesterday's backpack cleaning at the First Feral Family residence, the pack's contents are sitting in a pile here, some of them being a few pounds of elastic bands (read, brown color) for bunching daffodil flowers, and it seems they want the pack contents exposed without the pack, which is still hanging on the line at the FFF house.

But the muddy raingear was only for hosing down, no detergent or laundering. The water provenance studies continue; first they wouldn't let me clean my muddy raingear at the farm as the cleaning stations were shut off and the inside hose wasn't allowed (per farm manager "happening" to come by as I was about to use it like last year). Then, the farm's outside cleaning stations were turned on, and the first time I used them for cleaning up my raingear was Feb. 14, the day we stopped at 1200h due to a storm and getting a flu so I couldn't return until yesterday. And yesterday, said raingear was given the hosedown (no detergents) at the FFF residence, where they still are hung dry.

Other related water provenance testing is internally; the supplements to stem the flu incurred water drinking from the kitchen faucet (into a tumbler), and for the perps, this extra water intake is an exciting advent. Not just kettle water in other words, as it is filled from the same faucet. I noticed that my in-town brother was driving around with a load of internal brass faucet fittings in his vehicle when I caught a ride, so it seems that the passage of water from source to faucet and then internally is getting more study time by way of the perps invoking more variations on how I use it. Besides, the building water system shutdowns that follow me to each residence locations also suggest extra perp interest.

And I see the weather is getting cooler, so the daffodil picking hiatus will likely be extended for longer this month.

Onto physics that may well be related to the perps' current obsession over blood, as well as electron spin. It would seem that DNA has its own "handedness", and this confers a certain electron spin. Given the number of times the perps place LH drive vehicles around me, and the occasional farm vehicle ride in one such vehicle, it would seem that they have an abidding interest in "handedness" of something. And it just might be electrons in the DNA. The fact that I "happen" to encounter this article suggests they are tipping their hand just a little, though one has to be aware of fake-outs too.

1950h
A late dinner tonight, making quesadilla from scratch, and getting rage-ified at every turn, as it seems they want to do a series of all routine moments being accompanied by a rage provocation. Things like noises from nowhere, objects moving (a little) by themselves, crumb inundations, forced finger fumbling, sending me to the wrong drawer or cupboard are all provocations for which I get to have a raged reaction to. The usual faux neighbor noise on the opposite side of the kitchen wall started up when I was there, in the usual impecabble timing whether meals are late or early, 0500h to 1990h, they will start the noise up almost every time.

2300h
More from PC hell; I have been ripping music CD's to disc with Exact Audio Copy, and had three in succession that had the first song get corrupted. So... I look for my Windows Media Player that was there this afternoon, trying to insert itself to play every CD in the tray, and lo, if it isn't gone, as in totally. The moment I need Windows Media Player the assholes have purged it from my PC, or at least, from all the convenience icon locations; task bar and start list. Time to hunt for the software I once had and is now gone.

Just another vexation the perps had planned for me and time to call this one done. A dull day, and mostly one of being kept inside.

Solstice and Eclipse -another fluke?

1730h
A little too reaching to say that tomorrow's solstice and eclipse is a fluke, the first time in 456 years, but the perps do have a decided interest both celestial phenomenon, often arranging extra gangstalking and other harassment abuses these days. The time they doubled up on the hikers one Dec. 21, which was a Sunday, about the busiest day of the shopping year, was a significant clue. And one member of my gangstalking parties looked very much like my in-town brother, giving me the stare with his same goofy smirk. A week or so later when I asked him if he was uncharacteristically hiking in Gowland-Tod Park that day, the perps diverted my gaze elsewhere so I wouldn't see him denying his involvement. Which for me, is a sure sign that it was him, as the perps like to set these "moment of truth/lies" moments up, and then mind-fuck me into not seeing the telltale signatures of deceit. That is how it goes down this rabbit hole, where nothing can be taken at face value, and nothing is ever happenchance, down to looking at this stark LCD display, as the fuzzy ball masers are bobbing about in formations. And then the overhead clunking erupts as it just did, getting through my hearing protection.

This is a Monday, returning from an overnight stay at the First Feral Family home, and all the extra attention that entails, as it always a big event for the perps. I took the city bus home, and had my freakshow ready for me when it came, being half full. This time it was pre-negroed, two sitting side by side with the aisle side dude with one leg in the center aisle, just like that last lot of negroes on the bus out to the farm this summer. They were the blackest ones I have seen, as the perps seem to be working the negro skin color tones of late, from cafe-au-lait, to deepest brown, to the blackest. They got off in one stop, and then the rest of the freakshow parade continued as the bus travelled from suburbia to downtown.

The oddest hoodie act going fulfilled his promise by using his lighter inside his pack pocket, he and the other of my bus shelter mates being either side of me. This hoodie act did two back and forths in the three minutes I was at the bus stop, including walking away from the bus shelter when it was plain that the bus was arriving. Why anyone would walk away from a bus stop when the bus arrival is imminent (less than 20 seconds away, and visible), is totally beserk IMHO. And then to use his lighter as a light source to see inside his pack pocket has got to be one of the all time stupidest stunts going, seated opposite me while the bus was in motion, post-negro disembarcation. The rest of the passengers who could of seen him using his lighter kept their heads down and pretended otherwise, and not even reacting to me (read, mind-fuck state) asking the hoodie act just what he was doing, starting a lighter on a moving bus. That kind of bullshit would get one seriously assaulted if it were in an aircraft, and justly so.


I suppose the big deal from the perps' angle was that my mother dropped me off near the bus shelter, as normally I walk there. For some reason she hung back while I attended to leaf raking, as she said she was going to go after lunch. The leaf raking was terminated early as the wind started up, moving piles of leaves that had been just raked. Now that I fixed the rake by adding new wire, pinning the spreader bracket to said wire, drilling the tine ends so they were fixed with a wire loop and couldn't shift, and then secured the handle with a hose clamp to the tine ends, meant that I had a rake that could be useful again. And it has been a month's delay in using this rake as it fell apart after within an hour of its inital use. Then came other gardening jobs such as the infernal weeding, and also a snow event, and finally I got back to leaf raking at the FFF house, and lo, if the wind didn't start up to abbreviate leaf raking. Which is totally consistent with so many objects; there has to be a "fallow" time, (object acquired but not used), then only short or tentative uses of progressively longer duration before the object is allowed to be used to its fullest capacity.


This gradual increment use of new objects applies to DVD's as well; of the ten I purchased for cheap prices in Jan. 2010, almost a year ago, only four have been opened, one has been played for 20 minutes, and none have been viewed straight through. Various imposed "problems" have been imposed, such as a malfunctioning Windows Media Player, driver problems, as well as the 'can't be bothered to see it" mind fuck games that are routine. Just another example of how things go in this imposed and contained existence, as if they haven't fucked me out of watching movies all my life, which they have. I am a virtual movie ignoramus, and yet I like to see movies. In the 2003 to 2004 harassment years, they would have me watch a movie at the nearby cinema, a ten minute vehicle drive at most, about every week or two. As soon as I moved a little further from cinemas, suddenly there was no ambition to watch movies any more. Instead, they started me on TV, which became a chore for the myriad interuptions, but kept my service long enough to see the Indian Ocean Tsunami story unfold in all its tragic dimensions. Fluke? I don't think so, same with 2001 and the 9/11 events that I got to witness on TV after I had cancelled my service no less. Somehow, ATT "forgot" to put the order through in August of that year.


Yesterday, I got screwed into a 10 hour sleep, even if I set the alarm for 0730h. They had me attend to the alarm, and then get back into bed, something I never usually do. This backed me up for availible time to set off to my in-town brother's place to finish up his leaf raking, which I thought I had done a week ago, but he said more was needed. So to save time, I did a face-only shave, not a full frontal one, same as when at the FFF house (today). That makes it two days in succession without a full frontal shave, and for the perps, that is mighty exciting. Which might also account for the extra gangstalking bullshit on the city bus today, and may also be in the plans for when I set off to the LD store after crafting this posting. Even if I walked past the LD store after getting off the bus this afternoon, usually an all-out gangstalking show, "somehow" I "forgot" to get more mouthwash as the assholes ran me out of it Sunday morning. I got screwed into "thinking" I had some more remaining, but I did not, which is another example of them fucking with my head, because I don't normally forget to get these items, and how much I have on hand. Sometime in 2005 or early 2006 they gained the ability to fuck with my recall, and by early 2007 they could fuck with all my long term recall, and then in 2008 they were able to mess with short term recall. I assume this is the same for all TI's, or at least, the ones that are actively fucked with to know that this is going on, these sudden lapses of recall that was infalliable before, and then suddenly comes back again.

And while at the in-town brother's place I helped him with his Windows capability, as he isn't much versed in how to use a PC, and the invariable Windows ergonomic problems come to bear, and the perps also like to crank up my impatience level with all things Microsoft. So, he got to sit in front of the PC while I said "right click", "left click" and many other verbal commands that he was so unsure about. The perps like to arrange LCD screen viewing Fuckwits around me all the time, the latest cell phones and netbooks being examples, so I can only assume this was familial gangstalking with a LCD screen close at hand. It seems the perps are delivering some kind of irradiation, likely mind-fuck irradiation, through these devices, and want to replicate this everywhere I go, which means that the cell-phone squad is all over me in public. My mother put on the Windows bozo act ad nauseum in 2003 and 2004, and finally relented under the guise of being minimally Windows capable. With all this dysfunction around Windows, and forcing me through the training hoops with learning adverse perp-abetting family, one wonders if the MS-Windows world isn't deliberately crafted to be a pain in the ass, and have so many ways to do the same thing, surely perp preferred outcomes.

I got a rare ride back to my place from my in-town brother, then once my belongings were assembled, a ride to our mother's place, the FFF house. And without saying anything, there seemed to be this furtive agreement in advance that she knew he was coming for dinner, and it was made out to be happenchance. Call it family accompaniment from one home (familial gangstalk venue) to another, with an intervening stop at my place. Oddly, or maybe not, there was a number of blondes on the sidewalks as we drove by in the very dim light at 1730 h. The perps reminded me of this when watching the later BC Global TV News at 1800h, led by the blonde Robin Stickley. (All this blonde exposure is of the Favored category, as described in the Favored and Unfavored essential blog posting to the right for those unfamiliar with the perp's use of this particular demographic group). Anyhow, for the first time in 8.5 years of gangstalking, the Sunday night visitation event was accompanied by the in-town brother's appearence, and perhaps his own viewing perception of blondes.

Other bullshit at the FFF house this morning was for my mother to have a need to check on the oil tank below in the crawl space, making out that it may run out while family is visiting this week, and that the heating oil company's unilateral removal from the automatic scheduling list made her uncertain as to what might transpire. That the perps have a fixation over petroleum products and exposure and proximity to them, including filling the family vehicle at the fuelling station, isn't new. It was just more blatant that this ruse was employed while I was there. Yesterday, a Sunday no less, a heating fuel tanker drove withing  three houses of my in-town brother's place while I was having lunch there. It pulled onto the wrong side of the road, and appeared to park there, and as best as I could tell, it didn't make a delivery. So, on with more petroleum products stalking for 2011 I predict, and maybe another big one next year, talking about the BP oil disaster this past summer in the Gulf of Mexico. I get plenty to see plenty of oil production mishaps stories these days; pipeline bursts, and west coast moratoriums on oil transport, and on it goes.

1955h
A trip to the LD store, duly gangstalked by the dude force in a travelling wave with me, and then the Fuckwits in place in each location of the aisle I wanted to get to. Heavy on the chocolate section, at least five fuckers there in "just standing there" pose, doing their best to stretch their spines, to look interested for exceptionally prolonged circumstances. Code for looking stupid IMHO.

Then back to this place, again with a dude-force ahead of me, and some coming from the side, plus a mid-street turnaround vehicle that just had to encroach on the sidewalk in front of me, all to turn around in mid-street beside me and then take off from the direction they came from. In other, a totally pointless manouver from any perspective, save that of the perp intrigues and this signature stunt.

Then once tea and chocolate was done, thought not before them getting me rage-ified over blatant noise while I had chocolate in my mouth, the faux neighbor water-usage noise, as if travelling in noisy pipes. They even let me shout it down and stopped it per my behest. Rare, but it has occured more frequently these days, where they acede to my demands, though more like, it was entirely scripted to make it seem that I had some influence, which I don't. If they can determine how much pain or duress I am in at any given moment, they they have the capacity to orchestrate these reactions to their desired level of the TI.

And now that I am immersed in resume writing again, after a chat with an on-off recruiter from Vancouver, the noise has started up again, getting through my earmuffs. Even to the point of their signature clunk noise that has followed me over 10 residence locations in two cities occuring at the exact moment of a mouseclick to effect an editing change. It seems that if the assholes want to noisestalk me, or otherwise jerk me around including having pop-up windows of no rational origin appear at key moments (for them), all over resume composition, then it seems they have a long way to go in terms of reseaching this particular aspect of my existence.

So, the inevitable question this one for the readership, one that my employment counsellor passed on; do I declare a "medical condition" (involuntary subject maybe?) excuse on my resume, or not? We are talking about no IT job since 2002. Or, do I go into a spiral of; it is all rigged anyhow, so screw it, no job looking whatsoever, save more of the agricultural laborer jobs the perps like me to have. These have been cutting daffodil flowers, picking daffodil bulbs, picking red fruits like strawberries and raspberries, picking potatoes, weeding and so it goes.

The drift from the recruiter is that I have to state the reasons for my absence from the IT job market. This is always made to be a conundrum; do I do the supplicative bullshit about it being a "medical condition" or do I say something about being a nonconsensual human experimentee, constantly raped in place? I did the "medical condition" thing in the first release of the resume, but that got me nothing, save that strange interaction and complementary email dysfunction so the  E. Indian woman recruiter and I could be on the phone at the same time as the emails were sent back and forth. Then she was never heard from again, a most un-recruiter like behavior. Funny how these email problems wax and wane and in concert with whom.

2355h
An evening of troving through a new stereo components site, stereomojo.com. All I do is look, and if the commentary sounds too much like winetasting, I get a sudden drift of inattention and off I go to the next page. The perps like me to be to casually skim read, much to my annoyance at times, as some topics I like to read in greater detail. They seem to know what subjects and what level of technical depth that I am interested in, (or more like, am allowed cognitive function), and like to test me on either more technical material or else have me abort reading and turn the page. Cognitive registration is a big deal for them, and they often noisestalk me the instant that I "get it" (understand), or when I don't "get it" (fail to cognitively register what is being conveyed). Doubtless more years of jerking me around are lined up over this topic alone.

Enough blogging, and I was prevented from getting my resume upgrade/conversion done to a new format, so here we go again, keeping me in the vocational netherworld again.