Labor Day

09-03-2018
Labor Day here, or more accurately, Labour Day. A mellow one too, after getting a hike in yesterday, though not a taxing one. What was taxing was a trip to the SOF supermarket and enduring the gangstalking hordes. In particular was the obstruction fuckery, as they laid it on thick. Obstructing the avocadoes seemed to be a big deal, and too, the shrink wrap. Three times I wanted to get to the avocadoes, and a Fuckwit had arrived ahead of me, and was obviously lingering there, and fondling the fruit for some obscure reason, and not selecting any. Kind of like "warm ups", where the Fuckwit does the same thing in advance of me at the same location I intend to, but doesn't go all the way and put the items in their shopping basket. I don't think I have a name for this variant (fruit fondling in advance of the victim selecting the same fruit items for purchase), though I have reported the arrivals of the Fuckwits just ahead of me for "just standing there" duty, aka obstruction.

Then, with a 5 minute interval for waiting (shopping elsewhere) for the apparently pondering woman Fuckwit to stop obstructing the shrink wrap section, she was still there, pondering. Finally she cleared out and I got the new 152m size and got out of there. I just don't know what it is about shrink wrap that so obsesses the perps, but in retrospect I should of not of been surprised. I suppose the former 90m size (plenty enough) got too tired for the perps, and they had it removed from the inventory and now it is a 152m for $4. I am quite convinced they control a lot of product packaging to create small variances in whatever energetic properties that confers among their test subjects. (Which by extension, could be all of us).

The Fuckwits were also on my ass when I entered the store, a Fuckwit pinch-in, with them coming at me and attempting to get closer to me together from different directions. Just what is it about the assholes they need to close in on me in public all the time?

And before the masers got too invasive I was reading a book outside when it was sunnier. And just what is it about this particular single engine aircraft that it needs to make 8 noisy passes overhead over a 1.5 hour duration? Add in the HD motorcycle noise next door, the lawnmower and a few others, and lo, we have a noisescape of successive internal combustion noise sources while reading a book. And not to forget, the intake of knowledge is a big deal for the assholes, a highly stalkable moment in victim harassment.

The fuzzy maser balls arrived in increasing numbers while reading my book, eventually pairing up in parallel and delineating the line I was reading at that very moment, and then following me in bounding the next line down when I read on. After a minute of that, I gave up and put the book down.

A week of work without interruptions (doctor's appointments, workplace shutdown etc.) last week, and of course, with 400 guys on the job, plenty of opportunity to plant Fuckwits upon me. The most obvious was when I was handling pallets, another special "need" for them to send in hordes of dudes, often in file (6 or 8), just as I turn a corner (another perp "special moment") with the pallet when carrying it to the elevator to dispose of it. I also get lots of unexpected help with pallet loading and handling from dudes I don't even know.

I went to the Dream Cafe for a show on Friday, Aug. 31. A good show, and I was placed in the front row, 8' from the performers. And not the usual stare-at-me event from the performers, save the one time the female singer was bending over to look at her gear sideways and shot me a look just as I was looking at her. I have had this kind of "coincidental stare" events before, even before all this shit rained down on me in 04-2002, though in this instance it was difficult to tell if it was orchestrated. But as it "happens" just about every time, I doubt that it was a random event, even if I was close to the stage.

09-05-2018
A visit to the sleep doctor, who also "happened" to be a shrink for crissakes. I hadn't met this doctor before, and most of the discussion was around my disrupted sleep that began  01-2018. On the occasion that the consult did veer into ADD and dopamine, she seemed so flaccid and terse and disinclined to tell me anything. And she even suggested that I was "focused" on it, though not over-focused (which would of pissed me off). I also thought it was absurd that she suggested "non-medical interventions for ADD" (but I did not challenge her on this one). She referred me for a sleep study after a brief in-mouth examination, and it was me who had to ask her whether I should be taking my ADD medications or not at that time to facilitate sleep for the study.

Chalk another one up for finding yet another weird shrink, this one inadvertently. In 22 years of attempting to get my ADD professionally attended to, the count is now 3 normal (helpful and progressive) shrinks to 11 weird shrinks (obstructive idiots who somehow "failed" to marshal all the facts, as well as ask the appropriate diagnostic questions). On the face of it, that's a 79% failure rate to diagnose the obvious, never mind the ones that got it totally wrong and jerked me around, assuming they weren't being directed to do so. And too, never mind that I told them what the diagnosis was, and why, and I still got blown off. Never has a medical specialty failed so miserably for so long to such a trail of living human wreckage. Bring on brain scans and more science to back it up, and dump that DSM committee bullshit at once, and by extension, all the downstream poseurs.

And just to think, that the psychiatric (sic) medical specialty, (I am loathe to use the word "profession" in this instance) got it totally wrong starting with Dr. Haslam who imposed a psychosis (or like) diagnosis on the twice declared sane, James Tilley Matthews in 1797 who died while incarcerated for a condition he didn't have in 1814. What was the real situation? He was a TI victim! Read the book, "The Air Loom Gang", since renamed to a prejudgmental "A Visionary Madness"  by Mike Jay. To have over 200 years of advance planning to pollute and discredit a medical specialty takes a lot of planning IMHO.

09-06-2018
Friday, and a work day at the construction site, with a mixed up start. I had a fasting blood test to do, which meant going into the lab at opening time, 0800h after having no breakfast. But as work begins at 0700h I figured I would go into work until 0900h, take the usual 30 min. morning break by going to the lab, and then go back to work. And all too often, "elaborate" plans get blown up; the boss man wasn't to be found for 20 minutes, and when I did find him, he obviously didn't have enough for me to do as he was distracted by other issues. I proposed to go to the lab and get the test done, and come back. However, while on the construction site and before I departed the seeming gangstalking workers were all over my ass, especially at every door and/or turn I made. Like WTF; who told them I was fasting and to turn on the gangstalking all the more?

And when I arrived at the lab, I parked in an adjacent public parking lot that was empty, about 50 stalls. And lo, when I get back, why, two same colored blood red vehicles parked on either side of mine. Well done; going to the blood lab can initiate (somehow) the strangest of events. Related to this, was that there were only two other patients, when past experience was there would be at least 10-12 at this particular time for the blood test lab (other fasting patients).

09-07-2018
Will the PTB (Powers That Be) continue to harass innocent citizens, especially if they have ADD? Why of course, and a long read is at this link, written by a medical student who was run out of Dalhousie University in the last months of his physician medical training. I have no claim to being harassed by universities while there (long ago in my case), but it seems plain to me that someone decided that they didn't want him as a future physician and set up the scenario whereby he got hit with a low grade on his residency by a cooperating doctor, which then precipitated the student's formal complaint to the university administration, and then the gloves were off. But re-casting ADD into "delusional disorder" by the administratively appointed shrink is a familiar practice to me. The student, a Canadian, ultimately relocating to Ecuador. And so it goes; the Fates decided you aren't one of them, and will run you out of town (or your chosen profession).

09-08-2018
I am getting dithered to be slack and less attentive to this blog that I have been over the past two months, and am wondering what (more like who) has come over me. Or more accurately, who is doing this and what does it portend, and what is the next chapter in all of this?

And I have spent many hours over recent weeks pondering this question, as it "happens" they are having me "forget" more often, and especially that now infuriating process of getting out the door. (The door to outside, usually when headed to work or on errands). It is plain that no end of things "go wrong" at that juncture from broken shoe laces, to discovering new marks and tears on my clothing, and of course the long running, and now much more frequent forced "forgets", usually after I have passed through the gate at least (20' away), and then remember something I intended to bring on my way to the vehicle. My read on this has always been that I am transitioning from one energetic situation (inside my residence) to a different one, outside, transiting lawn, gravel and asphalt to get to my parked vehicle in the lane on the other side of the fence (45' in all). That I meet gangstalkers passing by with great frequency in the lane before I get into my vehicle hasn't gone unnoticed, usually with the dog walking excuse, which gets them more dwell time. The Psychopaths even put an ambulance on, "happening" to pass through this back lane when I was at my vehicle when they never do, save emergencies, which wasn't the case. I have long complained of "ambulance chasing", as in prominent vehicular gangstalking, but sending one down a back lane takes the cake as far as over-obvious orchestration goes.

Transiting the said lawn from my residence to the gate has also taken on a new dimension, with the underground sprinkler head failing to do its usual full 360 degree duty, and the landlord not doing anything about it, curiously. I end up walking over lawn that is irrigated from the sprinkler head, and now, a portion of lawn where it has "failed". (It was uniformly irrigated until 06-2018). Given that the sprinkler was installed in my walking path last year, it is most odd that it has now partially failed. But given my perp abetting mother's erratic sprinkler systems at her place, and the perp's long standing interest in water supply, which pipes, what materials, what sprinkler heads, faucet valve types their materials etc., having a malfunctioning sprinkler head, and unevenly irrigated lawn that I traverse daily isn't too much of a surprise to me.

Anyhow, my recall dithering has been slightly escalated of late, and not just when exiting my residence. Even when removing items from the fridge I get temporarily dithered and wonder what on earth caused such a momentary notion loss. And to complement that, I am now getting plenty of planted notions on what it will be like to be older; impaired mobility, cognitive function etc. I don't know and I don't want to go there, but it seems that geriatric diminution of one's faculties is the next long playing take-down here in Perplandia. As to how to duck this one I have no idea, as any effort on my part can be readily thwarted, by of course, more things "going wrong".

More on the increased masers (coherent magnetic radiation), those (usually) fuzzy or filamentous black blobs that keep erupting at every turn, even if I were to make a decision, even the most pedantic choice, say over which item I would purchase in a grocery store. ( I mentioned above the fuzzy ball masers bouncing along in pairs, above and below the very line of text I am reading in a book, tracking the very words I read at the very same reading speed as me). How does one get more obviously invasive than that?

And too, it would seem the perps are at it with packaging changes for the very same item inside the package, in this case, the wart remover that I was forced to purchase yet again. (The fourth time in succession). I got rid of a R foot wart last year, and decided to take on the L foot one that suddenly (yes) arrived 04-2002, the day they invaded my apartment in Seattle and initiated this onset of terror and abuse (perp beserkness) that I still report on 16 years later. Just when the latter wart is about cured, why, the perps spring another plantar wart on a toe on my R foot, necessitating another fucking round of wart treatment. But this time, they changed the packaging for this relatively obscure product. They simply cannot have enough to do, or else they are so mired in contingent energetic interaction research they cannot pull their collective head from their ass. Ergo, this picture of the packaging differences.

Anyhow, enough of this protracted slackness, and to get this one posted for the past two weeks or so.

Cold Weather Again

02-13-2018
Minus 7C yesterday, when it was a wonderful (comparatively) +7C four days earlier. And I see the local trend is to -13C in the next six days. I suppose it was a spring time sucker punch last week. The snow is now rock hard at the vineyard now, after all the thawing last week, though not enough to thaw it all. Not only that, but the wind was up today, an effective -5C all day. I was bundled up with three layered tops, thermal tights as long johns, a balaclava, toe warmers in my boots, a neck gaiter that extended to my nose, and googles to keep my face protected. The ski jacket was the final garment to cover me up, and the hood was indispensable.

And my loppers broke yesterday; a steel section just plain split. I suppose it was the cold, (if you believe in no other extra conventional interventions) and from what I can gather, this particular model has no parts availability. Well done perps. Another $100 to shell out to replace them. This is what they do to minimum wage farm workers under their heel.

I see the boss man just had to hang out pruning the adjacent vines to me when I was in my vehicle at the two break times I took today. The intervening time he moved somewhere else to do his pruning.

And what is with the infernal loud mufflered vehicle stalking again? This insane noisestalking technique has been going on for years, but today it reached its apex of irrationality. Thee times it visited the adjacent property for all of a minute and then came back, some 30-50 minutes apart. The first time it was when I was getting out of my vehicle, a time honored stalking moment. It is bad enough the boss man hasn't got his muffler fixed, but at least he doesn't drive it around for no reason.

02-14-2018
No love from the perps this morning; a 1/2" skiff of snow on the ground was the excuse, and lo, if they didn't wiggle the rear end of my vehicle 12" or so as it was going through the S-bends on Naramata Rd. A tricky section, with an uphill and in mid "S" it changes grade to downhill. This was with snow tires and I was going slow. As the vehicle skidded I backed off the accelerator and it immediately slowed and straightened. This was the same section they put me through a 360 degree spin two years ago, though in a different vehicle and four season radials. As to why the road maintenance personnel didn't gravel it I have no idea, as it was 0740h.

And if that wasn't enough excitement, (aka traumatization re-visitation) it was only 200m further that they had an oncoming vehicle spinning out of control. One of those dumb-assed so-called Smart cars was spinning like a top on a straightaway section coming at me from 120' away. The vehicle finished its spinning and came to a stop some 20' in front of me, facing me in my lane, headlights on. I had been slowing down all the while, and was thankful it was a straight and level section, and that the pick up truck behind me was well back. The large male negro driver waved at me and then proceeded into his lane and on his way. Like WTF; these so-called Smart cars are less than 1% of the road traffic, and negroes are at most 1% of the population here; 1/100 x 1/100 = 1/10,000 chance this could occur, never mind the rarity of a spinning vehicle coming at me. Seems like a fix to me, that, along with the fact that the perps are obsessed with planting negroes in my proximity. Another similar road stunt of four years ago had an overtaking vehicle subsequently spin out when faced with a bend in the road ahead, also ending up facing me when stopped. Two women then, but for crissakes, do they really need to pull this bullshit all to place a facing vehicle in my lane, stopped?

A full day in the vineyard, pruning. This time I introduced the use of my battery powered reciprocating saw to take on the larger cuts. I have a hand saw that does the same job, but ever the tool-geek, I just had to use the powered saw. Also contributing to this "need", was the fact that they took out my 30" loppers, per above. It did a good job, though it is heavy and it might be better to do a pass with it alone, then come back for regular pruning with the loppers and secateurs. So now, four different kinds of cutting tools I use for vine pruning; short loppers, secateurs, hand saw, and now a powered reciprocating saw, plus the long loppers that were broken (or taken out as I see it). No doubt all in the name of the perps' game over cutting tools (and object separation), and with what tool and tool steel. Fifteen years of this nonsense on top of being surreptitiously surveilled for a prior 47 years, and here they are still putzing with what tool I use to cut the vine wood with. I suppose it may alter the energy of the grapes, and hence the wine, but that is such a ridiculous long shot I just cannot fathom why they would be so obsessed over it. Perhaps there is another reason.

Not pictured are the 30" red handled loppers that broke this week, and the electric ones that I used for a day. That makes for six different kinds of cutting tools I have been using on this vineyard in the last two weeks. Add in the fact that my new loppers are identical to the blue ones pictured above, and I will be using them anew on a different vineyard for the next two or more weeks, and I suppose one could surmise that the perps are attempting to discern some energetic difference between using the blue handled loppers, though different pairs, over time and distance (4km away). I expect to end up back at this vineyard with my new loppers in two or three weeks.

02-15-2018
 A dental visit, getting my my teeth cleaned first, an ordeal that is becoming worse, just as the dental hygienist suggests going 3x/year instead of two. I need a dental plan first folks, and haven't had one since the assholes descended on me in 04-2002 going berserk/overt and ripped my life to shreds, where it remains. If that weren't enough, the dentist conferred with me on the two missing tooth problem. This one was also visited last week, by the dental surgeon who determined I needed a bone graft (aka "sinus lift") in order to provide enough bone to then set screw anchors in for implants. That job, including the anchors, was $6.5K, which does not include the teeth. Today, the dentist told me the teeth would be $2k each. Ouch. An alternative is a bridge, where two false teeth span the gap and are secured to a tooth on each side. Except today, the dentist determined that one of the teeth for securing isn't strong enough, so instead of a 4 teeth arrangement, it becomes 5 teeth. The 5th tooth would be my pristine canine with no work or fillings or anything, as it would be milled down to take a cap it doesn't need. Woo hoo... who took out these tooth with root canals anyhow, and then when being filled, posts were put in, which they now acknowledge, cause teeth to break up as the internal metal post doesn't have the same flexibility as the tooth. Maybe there is a way to delay this financial pain. Or maybe, I just go around with this curious gap in my mouth for years.

Other perp excitement was that I ended up collecting a parcel for my landlady at the post office. Said landlady and lord are in Mexico and I look after their mail, check the house to see if all is OK, and otherwise do the duties of apparent habitation. Another is cleaning the snow from the walk ways, more on that later. To date, the snow has come down in daily 1" skiffs and melts on the concrete, so I have got off easy on this one, but not for long given the perp's propensity to first game me, and then later hit me with the real thing.

The event of picking up someone else's mail also brought on extra gangstalking coverage at the PO; first the doofus who was holding up service at the counter with his verbal meanderings, e.g. "wi-fi it", meaning internet access. Not quite as bad as "sending an internet", but getting there. Then the stalkers came to line up behind me while waiting out the doofus, and another one doing the faux shopping pose; bent over looking at the envelope selections for crissakes, and then shifting his attention to some kind of drug store kitsch items as if it were all in a day's shopping outing. This PO is in a drug store, though with a fairly large cosmetics section. Then the parcel access system for the counter clerk hiccuped and slowed up, and after 30 seconds was suddenly up again, and I was allowed to pick up the parcel, legally that is, and cleared with the landlady in advance. Because I live at the same street address, but not in the same building, and my driver's license ID supported the requirement that I must live at the same address, all was OK. Great fodder for the perps though, picking up someone else's parcel. After some 15 years of intense and insane abuse, and this is what turns their crank. Heaven cannot help us as they run that too.

02-16-2018
A skiff of snow on the ground this morning, enough to remind me of the events two days ago, per above. But no, there was no snow when headed N, and none on the S bends mentioned. Although freezing, no ice on the road.

Pruning vines all day; now two weeks on this job, and I have been walking on snow most of the time. There have been some warm days, but that seems to be the cause for the snow to get more crusty, enough to support my weight, even if 4" deep. So it would seem that the perps like me to walk on water so to speak, all in keeping with their games over H2O.That I swam with a swim club for 14 years, doing 2500m per practice, 50 and 100m lengths, might add to this whole picture, though since, and excepting the odd time, it seems they don't want me swimming (or running) regularly. Too much dopamine generation I suspect.

Today when I switched pruning varieties it began snowing heavily for 20 minutes. This would be in keeping with the games and disruptions that go on when I have switched varieties for other vineyard tasks like shoot thinning etc. As to what the perp's preoccupation is about when I switch vine varietals I have no idea. Sometimes, if the variety change is in the row, and not a discrete block, they have blanked me out so I don't notice for a panel or so. The boss man came to visit me then too, asking me to leave the loppers behind in the tool shed.

As it "happened", I later bought a new pair of loppers, identical to the ones I was using. So perhaps the deal was that the perps didn't want me to have both pairs at home, as I usually take the company loppers home to sharpen them up. But as today is Friday, the boss man might be in on Saturday, and he said he might need them.

02-17-2018
Saturday, and there was 4" of snow on the ground. The falling snow was abated, and I got onto shoveling it. Not just my 25' to the gate, but the rest of the paths as the landlord is away and I am looking after the place. That would include the sidewalk here in suburbia, but also their driveway and vehicle to make as if the place was habituated.

But I got faked out and it came down some more, and by mid afternoon with my hair appointment pending, I walked into downtown to get it done. I had a new stylist, cute but chubby, and not terribly chatty, but she did a good job, and put on plenty of touchings. At one point she pressed her breasts into the back of my neck for whatever reason. No, I didn't get a thrill out of that, in this world of being kept as a subject for nonconsensual human experimentation, in situ. By the time I was done it was sunny, and no more snow coming down. Ergo, a second round of snow cleaning, including all pathways, driveway, sidewalk and vehicles. At least 4" deep each time, not a huge dump, but plenty enough work to clean up.

Later, I did my laundry at the laundromat and lo, if t he assholes didn't pull another snowfall, though only a 1/2" this time. They were bound and determined to lay down more snow on top of what I cleaned up, this being the third time. Given their nutzo interest in where I walk, and what objects (or beings) traverse my path (and how soon afterward), why snow shoveling is just the ticket with the metal edged plastic blade scraping ahead of me. At one point they pulled the leading metal edge off the snow shovel, so now they had two variants of surface scraping; one with and one without the metal edge, just the plastic. The friendly guy at the laundromat explained his snow shoveling woes to me, and it was only then that I learned about the metal edge and its propensity to come off, which explained how this metal "arrived" while I was snow shoveling and had no idea where it came from. That he had such a metal edge inside the laundromat while explaining all this to me wasn't too much of a surprise in hindsight, though the perps blanked out these nefarious and consistent objectives from my mind during this exchange. I am not allowed to know or associate that I can readily figure out on my own. He cleaned his lot three times, and presumably, the metal edge was on his snow scoop for some of the time. And of course, I drove, parked and walked on his lot, so perhaps the metal edge was inside for some kind of energetic interaction testing in a situation where it wasn't obviously used. All too clever, from the sickest minds that reside on this lab rat planet.

02-18-2018
I decided that I would not work this Sunday, and essentially cocoon myself in for a snow bound day. I did get out and do some minor clearing and sanding on pathways. With the dropping temperatures we now have ice on the roads that weren't cleaned, and that means those in suburbia that aren't thoroughfares. I did make it out for some minor shopping and banking, (two errand stops) replete with my stalkers. It was the "loitering dudes with pickup trucks" show. On entering the bank the dude was exiting, and held the door open for me, extending his reach to keep it open, passing me on my R side, in the perps' long running signature move. I finished up at the ATM, got into my vehicle, and lo, said dude just "happened" to be leaving in his pick up and crossing in front of where I was to then proceed. He should of been long gone, so just what exactly was he waiting for, except to dog my ass one more time, this time in his raised pick up truck.

Ditto again, only 50m away at the grocery store; another dude was dogging my ass and putting on the extra obvious malingering and also managed to precede me at the checkout, at least his third stalking reprise in the store. Again, I finished up and got to my vehicle, and then he proceeds to pull out and cross my path in the identical manner in a raised pick up as the dude at the bank, just driving the opposite direction. Like WTF; as above, he should of been long gone. Enough of that shit, and home I went.

But I wasn't done, or more like, they weren't done. I make a turn at a regular corner on my beat, and lo, there is an oncoming ambulance with lights flashing and siren wailing. As to why the ambulance didn't take the most cleared route that ran parallel I have no idea. But as regular readers will know, chasing me with ambulances at all hours of the day and night, mostly they are "just cruising" around, is nothing new. I also had two preceding vehicles on my local suburban street, and for this section it wasn't cleared, but a packed snow/ice road surface. I don't think in five years at this location they have put on such an obvious vehicular following before.

And I get plenty of continued mind planted notions that this abuse and harassment is going to end, aka, cessation of hostilities, but with the above dudes-with-raised-pickups-stalking, and both of them hanging back in identical fashion for a vehicular parking lot pass, I don't think so. And too, the finesse and mind fuck games over snow shoveling as mentioned above, don't in any way suggest that these assholes have any mind to give up. After 47 years or covert surveillance and orchestration, and now almost 16 year of blatant abuse, I don't think they have any other plans but to continue. Besides, every few years, on the eve of the April 2002 onset when they invaded and went into berserk/overt mode, they pull this planted notion of going to cease hostilities. It hasn't happened, and won't, and I have been correct every time.

And too, the assholes have made it plain it is going to be another year of vineyard laboring; I didn't hear back from that puff-ball interview of three weeks ago, which was offering a full time gig, so I can take it that means vineyard laboring for the year. Besides, they are building a house there, replete with hammering and banging and power tool noise, often timed exactly at to when I make a pruning decision, or a cut of the vine. (I also predicted that they would not give up this option of having me work in a vineyard with adjacent house building noise).

For vine pruning, interestingly, I only make a partial decision, as I leave 3-4 canes and cut the rest. The boss man comes later and makes a final decision to leave two and cuts them to length. (He has his criteria, but it doesn't make any sense, and he wasn't very clear. Most vineyards cut all healthy canes to the same length). Then someone is going to come along and pull the canes out from the trellis. So.. we have two people making pruning decisions and cuts covering the same ground, and all the while the house building hammering and banging is going on. Sounds like perp noise-stalking perfection to me. Obviously, a similar scenario of 2015-16 where there was a house being built at one of the two vineyards I worked at wasn't sufficient.

And to not forget, the perps just love to stalk my ass anytime or anywhere I make a decision. And don't ask as to why; my only clue, which maybe a red herring, is that if one follows Hugh Everett's Many Worlds theory, (links; Hugh Everett, MWI Theory, Wikipedia) is that each time one takes a measurement (observation) or makes a decision, a new world is created. It could be, though the compelling question is of course where do all these worlds go, as there ought to be billions of them by now. Perhaps there is some other quantum effects that present themselves and this is what the perps are researching, and by extension, why they are hounding my ass so relentlessly, now 63 years worth.

Enough for a post on this snow bound day, and get this out there.

Half Holiday

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Headphone Hassle

08-26-2015
My one pair of Grado headphones suddenly sprang a break in the plastic gimbel mount.  This the third time down for these particular headphones, and the second time they have attacked this particular part. Back in the frenetic full blown assault days of 2002, they spun the metal posts that attach to the gimbel mount in place. I was wearing my headphones at work as they kept the directed and severe head pains at bay. After odd sensations at my ears,  I took them off and found the perps were spinning the metal posts in their mount (in place) until the drivers dropped from the mounts, making the headphones unwearable. Sweet of them, and two years later when this high level abusive assault had "settled down" I phoned Grado for new gimbel mounts which were duly sent from their factory in NYC.

This time the game seems to be taking these preferred headphones out of commission for a few weeks, as I must send them away to a repair depot in Quebec and pay a flat $55 fee. And so the perps headphone games seems to be having me wear the cheap silver colored Sony headphones (that have never been sabotaged for the past 13 years) while listening to the same music that I did with the Grados. Meanwhile, the Denon headphones got sabotaged about three months ago and they won't reply to my emails as to getting replacement parts. Another sweet touch from the perps, all over headphones, aka, magnet,s at the side of one's head.

Even hearing protection earmuffs get beat up, and then the replacement head seal parts don't fit by 2mm, as long time readers will recall. No magnets in them though.

Still smoky in the Okanagan valley today, with some 200m of visibility at ground level. The perps like a good fire, and they got one in the Stickpin Fire in Washington state, now within 5km of the border at 35,000 acres. And I suppose all us folks breathing the same soot serves the perp's games as it revolves around the lungs/air/energetics (and associated colors) research objective. Beyond that, I have no idea as to what their purposes are with respect to "the breath" as they keep repeating in yoga.

A visit to the local drop-in medical clinic to get my Rx repeat; they insist that I can have only a 3 month supply, and so these trips to the doctor's office four times a year, plus others. They put the pleasant and attentive medical assistant on today, and with her doting manner and slim figure, she has made a significant positive impression the past three times or so that I have encountered her. She was running the show behind the counter while I was there, except when I exited, because the bitchy young one was placed next to her as I passed by.

This was the medical office assistant (MOA) that got into a total snit last year when my medical card had an unreadable number on it, duly rubbed off by the perps in the interim as three months earlier it was just fine (and had no other use). At the time, said bitch also seemed to not know that the magnetic stripe was readable and that she had a magnetic reader slot on the end of her keyboard. And of course I wasn't allowed to know about that detail at that moment as a rebuttal to her over dramatized complaining about my medical card's legibility. So what is this game about then, putting the nice girl next to the bitch, and having me glance their way for a second or two on the way out of the office? It is absurd as it is contrived. Or is it more games about placing the one with the Favored aura next to the Unfavored aura? This would be similar to the long running perp's game of putting the (Unfavored) dudes next to the Favored babes, and too, putting dudes and other Unfavored specimens next to the Favored attractive blonde babe. The difference this time is that the bitch "earned" her Unfavored status last year, different than the usual gangstalking parade of freaks that appear to have some kind of psychic abreactions generated in the lost years (read recall wiped), when aged 2 to 5 y.o.

And if that wasn't enough of the medical capers, then the Rx capers followed. The perps were having me piss more frequently of late, and that meant I needed to get my Rx refilled. I was holding off on the refill for the reason of avoiding a $70 charge for the Rx (read on). I asked for a partial refill of 10 pills and when I returned, the asshole filled the full Rx. Not only that, the perps controlled me to not complain, and not say anything and take the full $70 hit. Two days later, this same male Rx was doing duty for me to see him there, but he then retreated and I got a sweet young Rx babe in glasses to take my Rx.


08-27-2015
I went to the the Good Doctor in Kelowna, this time no forest fires broke out along the way, unlike my last trip there for the same purpose, 6 weeks ago or so. I am going to be starting testosterone supplementation in the next week, and we shall see where this goes.  [later update: Wrong, three forest fires broke out in the Kelowna area during my visit, not two like last visit. The link has only one listed, but I was told by my co-worker it was three. Maybe he rolled these fires together].

After i visit the doctor I see a new skin tag has erupted on my face, making it the fourth one, three in the last two months or so. It is medical wack-a-mole again, solve one problem (I hope) and another erupts too late to get a doctor to deal with it.

Another music/headphone takedown, totally blatant. After listening to a new performer for one song, the headphones, the one remaining working pair, got sabotaged for no music. There was no change in websites, it was simply selecting the next song on the list, and poof, they didn't work. Ditto for a certain rock queen's videos, they don't play when they worked fine last night on the same site. (This was the same rock queen I whose biography I read two weeks ago).


08-28-2015
The perps broke my frame-less glasses this morning; I had just got up, reached for them and poof, the temple piece broke. I turned on the light to see what happened, and the assholes broke (looks more like sheared) the titanium hinge-less temple. An hour off to see the optician and the part ($125) will have to be ordered from Montreal, and the custom soldering to put the cable temple on will be done in a lab in Vancouver. Some 8 to 10 days he said. So now I wear my backup pair without the integrated bifocal, hence much lifting of my glasses to see anything close.

And a blood draw at the lab across the street from the optician. The elder-duckie males were on the gangstalk beat; one had to accompany me coming from outside, and the other "happened' to be there on the second floor, now two of them and me in the elevator for a three story building. And lo, if the fuckers didn't go to the lab as well, needing blood draws too. And lo, if there wasn't a profusion of red vehicles after this, and even three same red vehicles in sequence ahead of me at one point. And I had a picture, but somehow it got lost when transferring from the phone to this PC. Funny how that happens.

Everything is going wrong today, and these recall lapses the assholes are putting on me are unsettling to say the least. The they pulled a driving stunt, having me exit a known location I have used before, and then I turned into the oncoming lane, in L hand drive mode for about three seconds until they let me in on the fact I was on the wrong side of the road with a vehicle some 100m away. I haven't had one of these blatant wrong way driving mind control stunts since about 2005 or 2006, when they pulled this one at night. And of course, held off the traffic to avoid a collision, just like this time. Funny how that happens.

08=29-2015
I worked for my Saturday employer, as a member of a vineyard labor crew. They all seem to know what to do without instruction with respect to the gangstalking scene. As most of the crew are E. Indian, as is the foreman, and most of the instruction is in their language. More than once I have been lured into going the wrong way, only to find them all working away on an adjacent new block. Then they filter out unseen to move their vehicles closer, and lo, if I don't find this out later and retrive my vehicle at lunch time, two hours later.

And just the regular crew, no Mexicans as they are on the night time picking shift, supporting the grape harvesting that typically begins at 0300h. That is, the dead of the night when the grapes are cool. They may be hand picking after the harvester has been through.

08-30-2015
The Penticton Challenge is on today, and my brother participates in regularly, and its predecessor, the Penticton Iron Man. In the case of the latter he would do all three triathlete sports, but the Challenge version allows team relays, so he does the cycling.

In the last thee years he has come for the event he and his family contact me and I hang out with my sister-in-law and niece.  We would try to catch him at the transitions and cheer him on, and especially when he finished. But this year, they never phoned in advance, and only today did I get a call from my sister-in-law, later in the morning, and she indicated that they were going to have a nap in the afternoon. Nothing says "don't bother us" louder when a nap is calling. I was told the brother-athlete would phone me in the afternoon, but he didn't. He and his family scuttled off without so much as phone call after the event..

My brother and family pulled this same stunt back in 2005 or 2006, when I lived in Victoria. They came from out of town to visit for the weekend and never called me when there. It is fucking rude, but in keeping with the harassment prominent hassle I get from every direction. This is just the First Feral Family version. Maybe he doesn't want to front for the speakers he stole from my belongings that I discovered last Christmas, though I doubt whether he gives a shit as to his thieving victims.But what I would like to know is who told that the speakers were there in the crawl space, and how did he manage to find the right box. (Though, it may have been labelled on the outside). But still, the speakers and other boxes had been there unperturbed since 2007, and suddenly he "finds" them (to steal).

Anyhow, I got 5lb of basil rendered into pesto sauce, though only by adding olive oil so it can be frozen in an ice cube tray and then kept as frozen for winter time use. A true pesto sauce would have garlic and nuts added, but I will add them at the time of food preparation instead.. Call it freezer storage pesto, as the perps so like to have things named, And usually, many names to maximize the confusion, aka FUD. And they are also besotted with vegetation being cut, and all the better when in a food processor. It was the last batch, or maybe the one before, when they ran a lawnmower simultaneously from several houses away.

Continued fuckery over being able to read due to my integrated bifocal glasses been taken out two days ago. To see anything close I must take my old pair off  or lift them to my forehead. As always, such fuckery is engineered to the microsecond, and what they get from it I don't know. It has long been apparent that the perps like to arrange for me so see familiar and unfamiliar objects and beings through all kinds of transparent medium; safety glass with the layer of plastic in it, single and double pane window glass, plastic lenses and even through poly plastic. At the farm I was working at in 2008 to 2010, they even had a negro parade though the poly covered greenhouse for crissakes.

And this posting got delayed for three days, as I like to post them on Sunday evening. Then they had my Sunday evenings too busy, and so it slid to Monday. That is yoga night, and so finishing the blog posting didn't happen until Tuesday evening. Now the assholes have made the weekly posting day Wednesday. I often find that the perps like to incrementally change days or expections from the readers' perspective. Just as they like to change prices on items in the store, jacking them up or down, and ensuring that I get to see it. Anyhow, enough trivia, and to get this posted

Food Preparations

08-16-2015
I was a total slack ass this week past, not even jotting down a few notes on each day to remind myself of the content, and filling it out on the Sunday.

Yesterday, it was hoeing all day, removing plant growth from underneath the vine rows. This material will end up in the tanks of the picking machine in a few weeks time unless removed. Such material is called MOG in the viticulture business, Material Other than Grapes as they term it. They like to pick at night when the grapes are cool, and there won't be any vineyard laborers then. But there are in-row cultivators they can use...


 The perps are having me go very domestic at this time of year, same as the last two, making winter food preparations for the freezer. For the last two years it was preparing tomatoes by boiling them to remove the skins and then putting them in freezer boxes for salsa or soup. Said tomatoes were given to me as my former employers grew a vegetable garden but couldn't be bothered to pick the ripe produce. Ditto for the six fruit trees they had.

This year my new employer has no such irregularities, and in place of tomatoes, I have purchased 9lb of basil over the past three weekends to convert into pesto sauce and then freeze into ice cube trays, and when frozen, place into freezer boxes. All this is new to me, save the basil, which I crave by the smell alone. And of course I have no idea if this is an perp introduced "craving" or if genuine. Such is life existing in this dual universe, being mind-invaded down to the last detail.

Other low-lights of this past week, where personnel can actually touch me were a dental appointment, and a day later, a leg wax.

The dental appointment was a continuation of the prior week where I had a dental cleaning that needed extra time for gum measurements. And as the perps just LOVE me, or proximate others, taking measurements, why, it was perp heaven. The dentist was leaning over me of course, and as she was masked and with the special magnifying glasses on, there really wasn't much to see. Besides, she has a nose like e prize fighter. She was in her usual jet black long hair; the prior week she had blonde streaks in her hair, attempting to borrow from a much Favored feature. But what I could not figure out is why the dental assistant, a blonde woman in her fifties, was up to. Sometimes she was in the room putting the measurements of gum depth into the computer, and at other times wasn't., with the dentist getting peeved that she was screwing up. Then the blonde woman exited to get something, and then the dentist recorded the measurements herself. It was odd, and seemingly pre-arranged.

And on the blonde side of things, a slim blonde woman walked into the dentist's office about a minute before I did. But then the perps added another blonde woman, this latter blonde was dumpy with an over-sized ass. The slim blonde woman had entered the dental cleaning technician's office by the time I got there, but the latter one was in the waiting area. Anyhow, it wasn't long before I was summoned to the dentist's chair, and I thought that it was the end of stalking blondes. My appointment finished in 30 minutes, with the slim blonde woman still getting her teeth cleaned. And while at the desk, the dumpy blonde woman returns for some reason. Possibly to stalk me as I was making a financial transaction, which was a little protracted as the dental desk assistant said I owed $54. I said it was inordinately inexpensive, and she asked me if I was on a dental plan, to which I said, no, just like last time. "Oh" she says, then you owe $275. And what was that all about, "forgetting" I wasn't on a dental plan. (I was a on a plan last year with the former employer).

Once I got to my vehicle, a three vehicle gangstalk clusterfuck broke out. A blue vehicle came in and parked ahead of me, no big deal. But the driver somehow needed to face me when he got out and not only that, he was grabbing his crotch until he closed his door and proceeded to the blood analysis clinic. Then a silver grey sedan came in and did a 180 degree turn in the parking lot between me and the blue vehicle. This vehicle had three males, aka "dubes" (for dubious ones) in it, the third in the back seat with a do-rag on. Then came a maroon red vehicle entering the parking lot, and the two latter vehicles had a Mexican stand-off when neither pretended they didn't know what to do. I was needing to depart from this same parking lot driveway, and I had to wait until this two car clusterfuck was over. Both vehicles were pointed at each other for some five seconds. Long enough for me to yell at them from inside my vehicle, and eventually they figured it out. Then I was permitted to exit the parking lot. And what was that all about, sending three vehicles over top of where I had just walked, a visual crotch grab, and this ridiculous vehicular stand off in front of me, preventing my immediate egress?

The next day's leg wax appointment wasn't so bizarre thankfully, with one Caucasian and one Phillipino on each side, and the overweight instructor, much like the last time. I suppose the perps are still working on their brown skin games, and of course, get extra mileage out of my tanned skin. The Caucasian woman was tall and large, one who I had not seen before, as the personnel rotates as this is a cosmetology training school. Anyhow, when it was all done, and I was at the payment desk, a short blonde staff woman comes to hang out, she only being 5' tall at most. I didn't think much of it, until another short woman came by a few minutes later when on an errand.

And what a forest fire they pulled yesterday, Aug. 16. While in the vineyard of my Saturday employer the hillside opposite us had burned in the night after a lightening storm, and there were remaining spot fires. It was called the Testalinden Creek fire, and this link doesn't do much for it. Here is a pic; the band of green below the fire/smoke are vineyards, and some vineyards were within 10m of the blaze, but did not get burned.

And that made for constant aircraft the entire working day, the fire retardant bombers, the helicopters and their buckets plus spotter aircraft.

Anyhow, onto getting this posted.

More pics (08-20-2015) to illustrate where the fire was and was not, and what it was like before.

Before pic, a week before from the same general location;

After delineating the fire boundary in both the two above pics in Paint, and having it disappear when inserted into this blog, I see that one has to zoom in on these photos to see where the fire was and wasn't. Basically, anything on the hill side that is blackened was burned in the Testalinden Creek fire, 08-15-2015 and continuing when I took the pics on 08-16-2015. The second pic of the above three was the S edge, and the third was the N edge, and that same hillside can be picked up in the third picture.

Dumbed Down

Finally, I got my story as a permanent page on this here Blogspot; 27pp, and to be read at your leisure. And it hasn't been updated since 09-2003, and I am a whole lot wiser as to this entire caper now, and as a result, a very much having an acquired conspiratorial perspective that isn't fully divulged in the blog postings.This story was on other TI web sites in the long past (to 2003), but it seems a number of them have been taken down since first written. But now that Blogspot will accept more static Pages (as they call them for some obscure(ing?)) reason, this as-written-then count stands as the definitive account of the onset of the high harassment/perp berserk/overt debut of this continuing and relentless life trashing, aka the life of a nonconsensual human experimentation subject in vivo.

It is flat text document and I shall update it with a linkable Table of Contents sometime, and the next version if I can ever be allowed to get a handle on creating a TOC linked document.

05-19-2015
I felt like I got clobbered in the head today; slow (aka "thick") thinking, not on the ball, and plain dumbed down. Even things that I am readily familiar with seemed to be new perceptions.

At the vineyard, I needed to mix some oil into the gasoline for two cycle motors at 50:1 and I could not figure it out. The table on the back of the oil bottle didn't include a 5L amount, so I had to calculate it myself. Only when I returned to the shed did I have a clue as to how to calculate it. Never have I been so dumbed down as this before, not forgetting that I mixed portions frequently in the course of my winemaking duties, 2012 to 2014. And surely I have mentioned that the perps are obsessed over measurements, calculations and determinations in this blog before? Many times, and it would seem to be another level of interest on top of total and complete remotely invoked mind control. Other levels of their interest would be whenever I make a decisions, the anisotropic qualities of ... vitamin D, .. sun tanning etc.

Later, in the evening (this added in the next day), I got nailed with a 2.5 hour nap attack, effectively decimating my evening. It took me a half hour to get up, all to brush my teeth, disrobe, wash my face and go back to bed for a night's sleep. As usual, there was no sleep deficit I had any need to make up for.

05-20-2015
Wednesday, yoga with the beer gutted guy instructor and bald head. But he is growing a beard, all in the name of decoding my abreactions to male features I reckon.

Rare that I have dinner before yoga at 1715h, but I did today as I am starting vineyard work at 0700h and finish at 1500h. That extra hour to do errands makes a big difference, and too, more likelihood to have an earlier dinner. The yoga crowd was 6 females, and they put the most decrepit one next to me, her and her very heavy breathing.

Mostly on shoot thinning today at the vineyard, though some wine case lifting and relocating with the boss lady as well. She seems to suffer in the heat, and it was at least 25C today, and little or no cloud. As regular readers will know, my ability to tolerate hot weather has gone up markedly since 2010 when the perps adjusted my thermal tolerance from about 25C, (77F) when I would normally wilt, to over 40C (104F). Last year I did a two hour hike at the latter temperature and it was no problem. It is one of their few intrusions that I benefit from, and would sorely miss this new-found thermal tolerance capability.

A new tasting room worker started today, she curiously doing two back and forths across the vineyard on the driveway in her red BMW. I met her yesterday, and her hair was in long tresses. Today, she had her hair frizzed up; not only did it get cut, but frizzed too. And why do the perps arrange this, as it has happened more than once before. All to fool me momentarily it would seem. The perps like to arrange momentary lack of cognition, and I assume, are getting better at it all the time.

And they pulled this at yoga too, the substitute desk person had her hair in a bun just like the regular woman at the desk.

05-21-2015
An astounding act of fuckery today at the specialty grocery store, extra crowded because of a 20% off sale. Not only was the wait longer, but the customer/gangstalker ahead of me did the linger-at-the-checkout stunt, but eventually moved on, or so I thought. My items were rung through the till, and I was in the middle of paying on the debit card machine, and lo, if there isn't someone banging at my crotch region, which caused me to jump and look for the cause. The elderly woman, one of the elder-couple ahead of me stayed back and decided she needed the newest copy of the free health care magazine called Alive. Said magazine was in a small 2" thick vertical rack at the checkoput, below the debit card machine. Not only did this colossal dipshit walk by this very rack and "forgot", but then some "remembered" when it was not in sight as I was covering it while at the debit card machine, but had the incredible temerity to attempt to reach around me without so much as an "excuse me", and fumble for it at my crotch region. I was totally incensed, but also governed to tone it down, and say something like "what are you doing?, I am in the middle of transacting at the debit card machine for crissakes!" Of course I wasn't allowed to publicly accuse/exploit the notion that she was grabbing at my crotch, which would of been a zinger to put this person in their place. I cannot believe the number of times this basic plain manners gets ignored and some asshole is attempting yet another personal space incursion. And note, it was adroitly timed while I was keying in my password on the debit card machine. And have I long complained about outrageous, as well as the new "normal" of extra gangstalking attention when making financial transactions? This is just the latest in rude and senseless public abuses.                              

That stunt was preceded by another stool test result I collected and turned in. Not only was there super crowded roads, this at 1530 to 1630h, and stops at the above mentioned grocery store, drop-in clinic, and then LD to get the Rx submitted. The whole town goes nuts because I turned in a stool sample, upping the ante with above mentioned public crotch grabbing.

The drop-in doctor is normally putting on a shitless look each time I see her, but today she was smiling and trying to be sociable. Instead, it was the intern kid at the RX counter at LD who looked scared shitless, though she tried to lighten up at the end.

05-23-2015
Saturday, got up early to get to the laundromat and then the public farmers market before the crowds came on. I got two bags of salad and one of basil, and was out of there in five minutes or less. It was Fat Girl gangstalk time; there were at least four of them covering me from my car, 100m to the market, and then back again. Plus at least three more along the driving route back to the laundromat.

Normally the perps keep me off salads for month at a time, no matter the season, but they seem to be allowing this kind of food more often.

Same with eggs; on my 6th dozen this year, when at most, they kept me to 6 eggs for the past 13 years. Call 2015 the "Year that Eggs Were Permitted".

And more Fat Ladies; at the market, on the way home, and lo, when I go downtown again for my legs waxing appointment, it was Fat Ladies With Tattoos. One at the salon had dense tattoos all over her arms. And the ones that I know who kept them covered, why, they rolled up their sleeves today and revealed them. I go next door afterward to get some L-tyrosine, and lo, if the shop assistant isn't waving her tattooed arms around to demonstrate directions to me.

For my waxing, like the past two times, I had the young blonde girl on my L, and the very large instructor on my R. I suppose in talking to the latter about wine and other things, I got more Fat Girl exposure, hence their increased gangstalking numbers on the way home. If I don't like the sight of Fat People, large sprawling guts and all other names for a voluminous convex midriff, I don't understand why legions of Psychopathic Confederates need to present this very visage at every corner, or turn in the road.

The attractive blonde leg wax assistant had the 2" of the tips of her blonde hair done in a fuchsia color. It is a new product they sell, where they can temporarily dye the hair and have it come out in the next hair washing. As the perps routinely like me to see blonde girls, and intersperse freakish and unnatural hair colors, having both on one person is a coup of some kind.

The two waxers stayed on their respective sides, as I flip over once the back of my legs are done, one gets the front of the back of the opposite side. To date, they haven't swapped sides when I flip so one of them gets front and back of the same leg. I am sure this is planned for some future date. It reminds me of the cooked chicken I often purchase, and how the perps like to get the R and L sides mixed up, so I don't know which side the leg is from.

 I am sure there must be something to all of this, and I don't know what the perps get out of hair plucking, but they have me doing plenty of it of late. The perps tell me is about some kind of energy vibration, like what the do on crop circles where they cause the crop, usually a grass, to grow at an oblique angle before they press it down in its tytpical patterns, usually a cricle.

Then onto suntanning outside my place on the lawn for a few hours. Still clothed of course, but less than that where I work which has made shirt wearing mandatory.

05-24-2015
A concert last night at the Dream Cafe; shows always start on time at 1900h. But not this time, as the band was doing their sound check at 1830h when I arrived. There might of been some 10 other people in the place. Normally when I come for  concerts at this time the place is nearly packed and I am glad for my reservation to get a decent location.

But the show started an hour late at 2000h, and it was most curious that the customers trickled in until then when the venue was nearly full. Like WTF; how did the majority, say, 80% of the audience (about 100 people) somehow know that the show was starting an hour late?

Onto some pictures:

What they do to my bottled water; these bubbles arrive within an hour or so, and they keep it going until it is drunk up. Did I ever mention the perps are utterly obsessed with sources of all my water? Hundreds of times by now.

New, first time washed UA shorts, the ones made shorter by visit to the alterations shop earlier this week (read on). But the assholes decided that they couldn't tolerate a nice pair of smooth spandex shorts, so they roughed up the patch seen in the circle in the second picture below. Not only were the shorts in immaculate (new) condition, but they were washed with the towels and cotton fabrics, and "somehow" got roughened, a telltale perp trick that has been going on for decades. Before they went berserk/overt in 04-2002, I would get these rough patches on sweaters below my chin, as if my beard was the cause, which it wasn't as there was very little contact. I could never figure it out until these rough patches showed up on my clothes after 04-2002, and without the cover story of putative cause. And yes, I am fucking pissed they messed with my new clothes.

And a final insult/assault detailed; the continuing battle of the perps and the length of my spandex shorts. I want  mid-thigh length shorts; not an inch longer or shorter. And as it "happens", the latest pair of shorts were to my knees, and I took them to the alterations lady. BUT as it happened, har, har, there was a horizontal seam exactly where I wanted the new hem height, and therefore the new hem had to be above or below. I chose above, and lo, if the shorts with a whole 3" of leg length don't roll up and look like swim trunks, just like my current two pairs. Two years before that I had a pair that wanted altered and the seamstress botched the job and rendered them unwearable. This insane fucking bullshit about not joining the male sloppy shorts crowd continues, and pisses me off all the more that they fucked me around again.

Anyhow, onto posting this for another week.

Exasperate the Victim Some More

03-30-2015
Said victim being me of course, and it is a Monday, usually when the perps go most nuts with harassment and yoga tops it all off with the spinal extensions, twists and all else they like about yoga so much. Not to mention the attractive instructor.

The perps riled me up in the vineyard forcing more finger fumbling, and even obstructing me from moving my fingers the way I intended. (Thwarting intention is also a big harassment theme). And not quite to a rage-ified level, as I was in the middle of a vineyard with public thoroughfares (walking trail) above and below (road) it.

Added to the annoyance level is this split skin on my thumb, and lo, if it didn't happen four times in the work day, the tying wire somehow got pulled into the split skin fissure wound. All to bleed a little blood around my finger nail and some onto the twist tie tool.

They screwed me out of doing balances in yoga, per usual. And they twice banged my injured L thumb into the floor and had it bleed and send a few drops of blood onto the mat. Call it red blood color registering, but they do like to take blood samples, and especially if it drops onto fabrics and clothes. I assume they can withdraw blood anytime they want via their teleportation games, but for some reason they need it spread around.

03-31-2015
My L thumb and forefinger are raw from handling and tying the vine canes to the horizontal trellis wire. Ditto for my R hand. That was when I started today, and naturally, the perps made them worse. They jabbed me at these hand locations at least 30x over the day, and when a shooting pain emanated, why, the vehicular noise parade increased its volume for the next few minutes. And plenty of inaudible swearing at the assholes too, not rage-ification level, but the same exasperated refrains. And they like to bleed these sore every hour or two to leave a blood drop trail on my tool, the vines etc.

There was plenty of ongoing vexation all day today, pulling items from my grasp and not allowing my fingers to work as I intended. All this was preceded by not not having a tying tool, abetted by the possible supplier not returning my phone call, which I am given to understand is entirely expectable. Roll that back one more, as my gloves were constantly getting pinched in the tie wire/twine, so I worked without gloves.

Added into the mix, and I wasn't sure until I got back home after work, the assholes caused a minor shit leak that needed a shower to clean up. When that started I have no idea as they can prevent sensations from registering.

And I see the perps are continuing with their assault on my credit card, this time adding some $6k in credit that went through on a card that was cancelled.

04-01-2015
Some relief after yesterday's finger pummeling and jabbing, replete with intense pain each time. I taped my four fingers up this morning and wore thin gloves. And the number of times I had my finger sores re-injured was less than ten.

The boss man went pissy on me for not getting the R garage cleaned out, though it was mostly done, and was cleaned out in a minute or so. I got held up by others, and he said I wasn't doing things fast enough. As usually, the perp ensure I have no snappy refrain, as I found receipts and user manuals in the garbage I was cleaning out a few minutes earlier, and he was appreciative that they  were recovered. Said boss man "forgot" the chain saw a few weeks ago when it was the essential tool for doing the bush clearing on his other property. So I was sent back to get it, at least a 30 mi. round trip and eating into his time for renting the chipper that he had on site. And of course that didn't come to mind as he was haranguing me.

04-03-2015
Twice, in two days, I had heated food up in the microwave in the winery and was offered to come to the house and have lunch with company. In other words, take your magnetically irradiated food to a new location and eat it there. I haven't had a microwave since all this insane fuckery began, and the perps make sure I don't want one for whatever reason.


04-04-2015

Saturday errands, and that includes the ever-stalked laundromat, whichever one I go to. The gut strut was on before I even got to the door, as seen through the window and door glass. Said male gut strutter, white and with white hair and tidy beard and dressed in all black clothing then proceeded to turn toward me from 8' away temporarily blocking my egress until he turned and did his gut-in-profile move. Like WTF; why cannot I pass through a doorway without some arranged event, this occasion being a faux confrontational stance? On a later visit a red fleece coated fugle overweight woman did something odd in forcing me to walk around her while she strangely held the door open.

At least two other males were in close circulation, one being where I usually do my laundry. So I went to the next two washing machines behind, and lo, if the white-and-black gutstrutter didn't find me back in the corner all to loiter 4' away and looking at the notice board.

A two hour nap attack came on at 1540h, putting a big hole in the day. They had me dozing off at this here desktop PC, and I know the drill. Prior to that, I had chocolate, perhaps for the first time ever without an accompanying hot beverage, tea usually. I also had a two capsules of L-tyrosine to follow the chocolate, and we know who likes to run their victims out of dopamine, don't we?

I am ADD, Inattentive subtype (not Hyperactive) which in real terms means one is short on dopamine. This was determined by a SPECT scan in 2001, about a year before the assholes went over/berserk on me in 04-2002. When the Psychopathic Confederacy (the PC, ironically) subsequently ran me into hospital with abetting police and clinical scum, they put me on medications that bound dopamine, the wrong medication altogether as it made dopamine less available. (And it was brutal to have your mental faculties clobbered for that duration). I gave them the SPECT scan report but that was ignored of course, because they were working for the Psychopaths, not me. The doctors willfully violated their Hippocratic Oath of course, "cause thy patient no harm".

Funny how so-called medical professionals can subvert their principles so readily, and that began with the all time notorious brain trashing wretch, Dr. Ewen Cameron of Montreal, and McGill University. I was two and four y.o. when we lived in Montreal, and it was coincident with his reign as Neurological Abuser-in-Chief at McGill. I have no recollection of seeing him, but other victims have confirmed that he also did child abuse, in a clinical context, and at one time had a box of snakes into which the immobile child victim was placed. The child was first incapacitated with curare and couldn't move a limb to defend itself. All this from the book, "A Nation Betrayed" by Carol Rutz, a victim who was flown into Montreal for the experience. (Actually, two nations that betrayed their citizens in mutual cooperation, Canada and the USA and at the same time,- how convenient).

Again, I have no recollection of these "Lost Years", aged 2 to 5 (b. 1954), but I do know that I was making permanent memories then and for some reason, poof, nothing until 1959-60. BUT I do get a lot of serpentine imagery and motions arranged for me, and of course see real snakes in the vineyard jobs that I do, nothing poisonous thankfully. I also get a whole lot of white haired elder males stalking me, often with glasses, and I suspect doppelgangers for Dr Cameron and others, all to arrange some kind of deep psychic trauma that I cannot detect, except by loathing their sight.

04-05-2015
I got up early (0730h) for a weekend day with no alarm set. They had me twist and turn for a few hours before letting me get to sleep).

All the better to get hiking on a sunny but cool windy day. My standard hike to MacIntyre Bluff from the adjacent vineyard. (Where they brought in the SAR helicopter to make 4 circling passes and then had it sit for 20 min. at full hover in 2012). And they didn't let me get gangstalked until on the way down, some six parties, with male skinheads and one with the male fright doll look, red curly hair hanging 2" off his head and the wind conveniently blowing to make it look bigger like a halo almost. If I don't like curly hair, skinheaded males and red hair, why am I relentlessly hounded by these freaks for nearly 13 years?

Then back to my residence after dealing with some strange drivers on the way back, the one that wanted to pass me on the R. side when I was held up by a truck in the L. lane. He just happened to run out of room as there was a vehicle that the truck was attempting to pass, and he was taking his time.

Some pics and stories:

 A momentous moment in 13 years of abuse at the hands of the Psychopathic Confederacy; they are having me switch to a new color of Dawn to go with their intense and insane obsession over the color my dishes cleaning detergent. After having me use Dawn with a inky darker blue until about 2008 or so, they had me switch to the blue colored Dawn on the R. But today, "for some reason", the LD store was out of blue Dawn for the very first time ever, and they had only green Dawn in their sparsely stocked dishes detergent section. And to encourage the victim to "double up", why, it was on sale for 2 for $4, saving a whole $.50. And of course the red and yellow Dawn was also out of stock, just in case I wanted to give them the FU choice.

 Excuse the pics that won't conform to adding text captions where I want. After having some 200+ of this particular chocolate over the past 13 years of insane abuse, why, they slip one in that doesn't have the regular packaging, the one on the L. And too, the gold colored printing comes off and spreads gold paint flakes on the kitchen counter. I wonder in this era of intense automation how one mis-printed chocolate wrapper on the R, (no gold print) somehow found its way to my shopping basket. Yes, I have seen plenty more of this particular chocolate on the shelves of SOF, and never once have I seen one with mis-printed packaging. Image, after a forced chocolate "habit" of $200/month to deal with the perp's brown color problem, they are now adding in packaging "anomalies". I think we have at least 6 years to go on this gig. That will make it 2021 or so, and the same for all other TI's I suspect.

  

And the perps are at it again, breaking my headphones. Is this the fourth or fifth pair they have destroyed in the last 13 years? This pair had been sent across the country in 2012 to get repaired due to the plastic breaking up, and lo, if it didn't "happen" again. Note that I have taken particularly good care of these headphones, as I do with all the pairs that I have had, and somehow they got broken yet again. They had already been repaired by me with the black tape on either side of the head cushion, and I thought I could wear them again. No such luck, in the Headphone Sabotage Department of the Psychopathic Confederacy.

Anyhow, I am going to post this for the week and hope this one will be better than the last.