04-23-2017
And what is it about audio volume for music and videos that so interests the perps that they must relentlessly fuck with it? Either lowering the volume or shutting it off. Yesterday a 10 minute screaming-at-the-assholes show erupted when they fucked with the Oppo, when I put on the first movie in months. The movie volume would not come through the audio system. Eventually it was "solved" as they stopped mind-fucking me as to the correct input switch on the amplifier. I have played movies on this system many times, and "somehow" I got screwed up, and "somehow" when I was on the correct setting, there was still no volume. Then it suddenly worked.
Tonight they are busy screwing me out of having Youtube play through the same audio system, but the PC based player is working. Normally I don't have to make any audio gear switches from player to internet (all from the PC), but for some reason this is not working tonight. Other than blatant fuckery, another trick of theirs is to pull the plugs out some connections, to prevent the signal getting through. Another was 6 weeks ago when they broke a soldered joint in the interconnect cable connector that formerly worked fine. Said joint was protected and in no way flexed or messed with, and "somehow", it failed inside the hard shell RCA connector all by itself. Direct hardware fuckery goes back to 2002 when they could remotely limit the volume on my Sony Discman when I was listening at the gym while on the treadmill. They kept slowly diminishing the volume and eventually I gave up on that device as a useful player.
I cannot conceive as to why a billion dollar per year budgeted black operation has to fuck with my audio listening for 15 years. Are they utterly and organizationally insane as they are malevolent and relentless, or is there something important to the inner workings of the brain as promoted by listening to music? I suspect it is the dopaminergic response they are attempting to determine (or remotely replicate), which is entirely consistent with their objectives for these 15 years of this imposed abuse-athon. Don't they ever get it? Just leave me the fuck alone.
Landlord pop-ups in the window, facing to the side, perfectly catching my peripherial vision, something the perps have been long testing, as in been there, done that. Turns out he was doing some lawn edging, something I have never known him to do in the four years I have lived here. He was doing pop-ups in the kitchen window on one occasion two years
04-24-2017
Monday, and onto vineyard work, finishing up trellis wire moving. The top wires needed to be moved up one final notch on the slotted posts. It was hard work for the shorter two women on the crew. The weather started off wet, hence ski jacket. Then by afternoon it was warmer, down to my shirt, and headphones on. That didn't stop the weather drama though; big black clouds to the W formed and brought cool air, but thankfully, it skipped by on the other side of the lake and didn't unload on us. Big black clouds formed to the E too, enough for some serious rain threat, but didn't come over either. Between the dark rain clouds as the afternoon developed, and only getting a few spattering out of it
04-25-2017
Digging out weeds in the vineyard; the bunch grass is a formidable invader, and gets stronger each year. No herbicide treatments here, just mechanized weed cultivation which is in need of an upgrade. In other words, it doesn't get them all by any means, and once the bunch grass is established, it cannot get it out. Or else, it cuts the weed off at the roots and then displaces them, all for them to re-start in short order.
There is two of us weeding together, one from each side of the row. The NZ woman was my worker-mate, and she was reasonable conversation for the day. And to add to the show, three helicopters came to visit the vineyard tasting room in the afternoon. First we had to move our vehicles; then a Bell 206 came in and departed, and then two smaller Robinson 244's arrived and set down on the same helipad. I wasn't nearby, so I couldn't see how close they were, but it did seem unusual.
A 2.5 hour nap attack tonight. As nearly always, I was not running a sleep deficit and there was no conventional reason for needing so much extra sleep.
04-27-2017
Another day of digging weeds, very heavy clods of bunch grass, often 15-25lb. Brutal work, not unlike those gulag dwellers who are to grow their own food. Except that they don't get paid for it. I still work with the NZ woman, who is a valiant trooper and sticks with it in reasonable humor.
All those green tips of grass that I see all day long in the course of the above weeding are fodder for plasmic and visual fuckery. The Psychopaths replay the same grass visage in front of me; either in front of this LCD or a book or whatever. It is the same pattern of vertical grass shoot tips and their characteristic color. Why do I need to be hounded with the same color and pattern I see all day long at home? They say that every individual's perception of color is neurologically different, so maybe the Psychopaths need to hit me with this day-long image in different lighting and location to then learn how to remotely fuck with my color perception. Surely they could fuck with some one who is color blind? Or maybe they already did that, as I had a color blind co-worker one summer I worked in the woods.
Back to the bad old days when the Psychopaths would block the toilet. They pulled this one tonight, as a signature escalation after three days of consistently having me need to take a crap immediately getting back from a day's work of weed pulling.
Then a sudden later need to take another crap with the debris from their above mentioned antics still stewing with the bleach. So... time to take the plunge, so to speak, and thankfully, no overflow games. This following listening/viewing my very favorite audio artist, EC, on Youtube. Then onto bill payments, another longstanding point of invasive fuckery I have come to learn firsthand since this insane abuse began in 04-2002. Clearly, taking a crap has very much been escalated to tactical levels in the last year, sometimes three a day. Quite different from the once per three days until 2016.
Three rounds of leg cramps last night, screaming at the assholes each time. The "usual" magnesium bisglycinate didn't work for some reason, and I had to tough it out. The joys of having one's low dopamine condition exploited to the maximum continue.
And in predictable fashion, I embark on listening to a new artist on Allflac, and lo, the player craps out when it was working just fine with EC, per above. There is utterly no reason whatsoever for the PC-Oppo player combination not to work, as the settings are the same, and I can normally switch between Youtube and Allflac, both internet sources, no problem. Suddenly this audio "problem" comes on when wanting to switch to a new artist.
Which begets a broader perp tactic of selective introductions to people, either live or via music or film. An example would be someone texting, then later phoning, then in person, strung over a week or longer. Doing it in reverse is also a possible variation. The DVD film of Volver which I had bought used suddenly crapped out in mid film, thereby freezing my viewing of the luminous actress, PC.
04-28-2017
My, a sudden change up in my work detail. I got to run the tractor with a mechanical Grape Hoe attached on the side, which turns up the soil next to the grape vine and along the row. A whole day no less, of running a tractor for the first time. And the most surprising thing was nothing major went wrong, in a world where things go wrong at 5x the normal rate. Sure, I drove over a post at one point in the afternoon, but that was it. There was a 80' ravine next to the vine rows for the afternoon, and thankfully, nothing too close or threatening, though it was of constant concern of course. I don't know quite how to read this experience of a new endeavor where not much went wrong; either the Psychopaths will get me in spades next time, or else they may relent as it is part of my orchestrated "career path". We shall see.
And of course it saved me from hand weeding all day, back breaking toil as mentioned above.
An evening time visit to my knee-capped colleague, still in a brace from his work accident three weeks ago. Though this time with a smaller and more flexible brace. And so I walked to his place to try get him going on watching videos by taking my spare Blu-ray player. But the poor boy is "Appled"; no HDMI connections, no CD player for crissakes. I loaned him a box of DVD's and he hasn't got to one yet. I don't know what exactly is going on; if I was laid up I would make sure all my audio and video gear was working via the remote control.
Anyhow, we drank wine for a time aand chatted, expending the bottle I brought. Like last week, it seems I am there for some kind of script role; his bemused countenance didn't miss my attention, this time or last.
04-29-2017
Saturday, and laundry to get done. Then to help my injured colleague again, this time taking mounds of bottles to the recycle, ones sitting in bags that had been there for a year or more. The recycle place stinks of stale beer and I loathe going there, but I do only for special situations, this being one. Mostly I dump my bottles in the bins out back and don't bother claiming any refund.
The refund was enough for lunch which he graciously bought at a nearby chain restaurant. He conveyed more about his life in Japan, which is nothing what it seems on the surface. Then onto a few stores to do his shopping, and then to take him back to his place.
It was the usual gangstalk gong show when I out and about with my colleague; even some weird ones; a couple sitting in their brown vehicle opposite when I pulled into the mall parking lot, and still there when we returned 15 min. later. We get into my vehicle, a light brown colored Escape, and then a dude from the opposite vehicle gets out, begins to approach us, stares at us, and then returns to the back of his vehicle. We didn't do anything to invoke this near-threatening behavior, but here it was. This dude in camo tights (!!) with baggy shorts over top for crissakes. As we depart I see him walking through the very location we were parked. All that posing and near-threat posturing over no provocation, this mofo does a vacated parking stall walk-through, standard perp fare. Similar to last night at 2400h when walking home; a mofo comes at me from across the street and then diverts his course in the last five seconds. Like WTF; why is pedestrian traffic as bad as the vehicular traffic?
And while above activities were conducted, the on-off pestilent potential Camry buyer started up his texting, now looking to make a deal. First he attempted to exploit some mechanical faults, then I responded that I would deal with the one semi-legitimate one in a few weeks when I got the summer tires on, he later then responded he could save me the money by doing it himself if he could purchase the car ASAP. It is too confusing to relate, but the guy has got his bargaining wrong, and is only getting a lower price because he is a pest that is aided by the fact that no one else seems to be interested in my very reliable vehicle. This would be his second round of apparent interest in the vehicle, so we shall see. The whole text-negotiation exercise is getting too tedious.
04-30-2017
Finally, I sold my Camry to above pest, even if the bank was closed and forced me to keep the cash on hand, paid in 20's for crissakes. I didn't know he was coming today until I got a text at 1430h when I was out hiking. I made it back by 1530h and he still hadn't shown up. He did after 10 minutes or so, and then went to the bank and the ATM wouldn't take the wad of bills, no matter how few I fed it. Onto the insurance people but they were closed, so we tried three more, still closed. Either he or his pal suggested Wal Mart, and lo, if there wasn't an open insurance bureau there, and we got the deal done. My plates off, and his new ones on, and my insurance cancelled, and his put on. All done with the background whooping and yelping at the adjacent photo business, surely put on as it carried on for far too long if it was a legit photo shoot.
Three freaking months being posted online and all I got was two lookers who counted and one party of lookers who didn't even drive it. Maybe a couple of other calls who didn't show up, and that was it. All over a very reliable and well maintained two owner 1997 Camry with no history of wrecks, damage or anything else problematic. Go figure.
Said pest "needed" to use my washroom when he came, getting my instant suspicion that this was more perp fuckery, given their interest in all kinds of body waste, and the on-off sabotage ructions with the toilet these days, including blocking it for no seeming reason, as all I did was piss in it. Even my landlord got into the scene, "happening" to be driving by in his red pickup truck as I turned over the keys to the buyer. Go figure.Or is this just more idiocy over conducting a transaction, a rare car sale variety.
The evening time lassitude has come on, so I shall post this so it gets done and not drag on for another week. i see a new feature of Blogger is that the Save button flashes orange when it saves. Just what I needed, more orange flashing.
Showing posts with label toilet travails. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toilet travails. Show all posts
Sunday, April 30, 2017
Monday, October 24, 2016
Employer Circuit
10-18-2016
Follow my tracks, employer-wise it seems. I work for employer C currently, and worked in the vineyard for employer B for the last two years. Two of the employer C staff visit the tasting room of employer B and tell me about their wines. Fine, but not a coincidence as they would of needed an appointment in the first place, so it would not of been a "drive by" happenchance. Then my work colleague while at employer B of this past growing season goes to work at employer D as a cellar hand in September. And as it "so happens" employer C hires a blonde woman from employer D last week. And she is near identical in stature, over 5' 10", to the blonde woman they hired at employer B for the harvest season. Though I don't believe she is a morph-over as she is from New Zealand, but one never knows for sure. All very circular it seems to me. [Added later; while at employer B (two seasons), the cellar hand there formerly worked for employer C].
I am now back on PC#1, after #2 suddenly got infected last night, and lo, I take it in and PC#1 is ready. I pick one up, and drop one off. Convenient. A major stalking scene though, and even the friendly guy at the laundromat "happened" to be there in the parking lot and held me up for a few minutes of chatting time before I entered the building where the PC tech is.
10-19-2016
I worked much of the day on grape receiving, next to the conveyor-hopper that takes the grapes into the de-stemmer and then onto the crusher. Such reminds me of past conveyor line work at various farms; I have done daffodil bulbs, pumpkins, potatoes and carrots on other past employer's conveyors. I have no idea why the perps find moving so many biological objects past me at a measured rate is just so important to them.
10-20-2016
No grapes today... rain in am.
Why am I constantly fucked with? Things snag, hang up, fall down, spill or otherwise fuck up at 10x the pre-abusive onset of 04-2002. And if I have only one hand free, one can be absolutely sure that the imposed adversity will prevail and then I must inconveniently free my other hand up and attend to the problem. And this especially notable when attempting passage through doors and gates.
Then if that doesn't infuriate me enough, they screw me around doing my winery work; I get all the steps right at first, and then successively they scramble my head as to forgetting steps, or doing them twice. Fucking hell.
Toilet blocking again... WTF.... then reblocked once I had cleared. This brings me back to the days of 2002 to 2011 when they blocked toilets on me nearly every time. Then in early 2012 they suddenly relented.
10-22-2016
A half day at the winery; tending to barrel ferments, punchdowns, some by hand even. Then onto pumping wine from the bottom of the tank and hosing it into the top. Don't ask why sometimes it gets sprinkled over top and other times hosed in. Anyhow, the winemakers were all over this tank in terms of tasting it once I had finished this particular pump-over. (They sample from a sampling port).
10-23-2016
A day off, which was nice to mellow out and do some more reading on cancer, as this is a condition I have been stiffed with since diagnosed since 06-2016. Very thoughtful of them, and then thrusting me into this rabbit hole of colossal denial that is the work of the Cancer Establishment, who seem to exhibit no particular interest in solving the problem, only suppressing promising research they haven't approved. And too, if a interesting approach is approved, e.g. Provenge autogenous vaccine, why, they give it the kiss of needless adversity (or death) by only allowing it for "advanced" cancer. Lets make it worse to see if we can make it better.
A great show by two members of Blackie and the Rodeo Kings at the Dream Cafe last night. Part of a fundraiser as it seems that the co-op management some was asleep at the wheel as the bank informed them they had no funds remaining. They shut it down in early October, and the musicians last night performed for free to try to keep it going. We shall see. I went about 4x/year, and always saw great music, but I have no idea as to how such businesses do, especially is such a smaller town.
Enough for the week, and to start a new one on Harassment Road.
Follow my tracks, employer-wise it seems. I work for employer C currently, and worked in the vineyard for employer B for the last two years. Two of the employer C staff visit the tasting room of employer B and tell me about their wines. Fine, but not a coincidence as they would of needed an appointment in the first place, so it would not of been a "drive by" happenchance. Then my work colleague while at employer B of this past growing season goes to work at employer D as a cellar hand in September. And as it "so happens" employer C hires a blonde woman from employer D last week. And she is near identical in stature, over 5' 10", to the blonde woman they hired at employer B for the harvest season. Though I don't believe she is a morph-over as she is from New Zealand, but one never knows for sure. All very circular it seems to me. [Added later; while at employer B (two seasons), the cellar hand there formerly worked for employer C].
I am now back on PC#1, after #2 suddenly got infected last night, and lo, I take it in and PC#1 is ready. I pick one up, and drop one off. Convenient. A major stalking scene though, and even the friendly guy at the laundromat "happened" to be there in the parking lot and held me up for a few minutes of chatting time before I entered the building where the PC tech is.
10-19-2016
I worked much of the day on grape receiving, next to the conveyor-hopper that takes the grapes into the de-stemmer and then onto the crusher. Such reminds me of past conveyor line work at various farms; I have done daffodil bulbs, pumpkins, potatoes and carrots on other past employer's conveyors. I have no idea why the perps find moving so many biological objects past me at a measured rate is just so important to them.
10-20-2016
No grapes today... rain in am.
Why am I constantly fucked with? Things snag, hang up, fall down, spill or otherwise fuck up at 10x the pre-abusive onset of 04-2002. And if I have only one hand free, one can be absolutely sure that the imposed adversity will prevail and then I must inconveniently free my other hand up and attend to the problem. And this especially notable when attempting passage through doors and gates.
Then if that doesn't infuriate me enough, they screw me around doing my winery work; I get all the steps right at first, and then successively they scramble my head as to forgetting steps, or doing them twice. Fucking hell.
Toilet blocking again... WTF.... then reblocked once I had cleared. This brings me back to the days of 2002 to 2011 when they blocked toilets on me nearly every time. Then in early 2012 they suddenly relented.
10-22-2016
A half day at the winery; tending to barrel ferments, punchdowns, some by hand even. Then onto pumping wine from the bottom of the tank and hosing it into the top. Don't ask why sometimes it gets sprinkled over top and other times hosed in. Anyhow, the winemakers were all over this tank in terms of tasting it once I had finished this particular pump-over. (They sample from a sampling port).
10-23-2016
A day off, which was nice to mellow out and do some more reading on cancer, as this is a condition I have been stiffed with since diagnosed since 06-2016. Very thoughtful of them, and then thrusting me into this rabbit hole of colossal denial that is the work of the Cancer Establishment, who seem to exhibit no particular interest in solving the problem, only suppressing promising research they haven't approved. And too, if a interesting approach is approved, e.g. Provenge autogenous vaccine, why, they give it the kiss of needless adversity (or death) by only allowing it for "advanced" cancer. Lets make it worse to see if we can make it better.
A great show by two members of Blackie and the Rodeo Kings at the Dream Cafe last night. Part of a fundraiser as it seems that the co-op management some was asleep at the wheel as the bank informed them they had no funds remaining. They shut it down in early October, and the musicians last night performed for free to try to keep it going. We shall see. I went about 4x/year, and always saw great music, but I have no idea as to how such businesses do, especially is such a smaller town.
Enough for the week, and to start a new one on Harassment Road.
Monday, May 23, 2016
Warehouse Work
05-16-2016
All day under a concrete roofed warehouse dealing with repacking and hefting wine cases (36lb) today. I had a an engaging co-worker, so it wasn't all bad. Better yet, we were left alone for the most part, though the boss lady came and seemed to approve of our work and level of accomplishment. There were a few males coursing by, on foot or on forklifts, but it wasn't the biggest deal.
Yoga-stalk tonight, and two other dudes and four other women. I see they want to hold the Solstice session on June 20 outside in a public park. Interesting that, all those spinal flexings and ass-in-air bending (downward dog) in the great outdoors. Though I suppose outside yoga has been around for millennia, just not for me.
I see the winsome, slim, mop-headed babe was there again upon exiting the yoga class, crossing in front of me and bending over, much like last week, though at a respectful distance and all. Funny how they have now moved to putting the attractive babes outside the classroom and visible upon exit, while the in-class women are nothing to look at now. Most curious. I predict the fugly female instructor next, though I have been through a few of them, but not lately (last two years).
05-17-2016
All day I had an ache in my chest cavity, as if I over exerted myself yesterday. Like WTF; I didn't, and am very careful about such. Twists and turns of my upper torso are painful.
And don't blame it on yoga last night either, because there was nothing new we did. Which should of ameliorated the problem, if of organic origin.
Why am I so tired in the evenings now? Just plain wiped out. Worse yet, the assholes have me each tortilla chips and chocolate before dinner. A total violation of my dining etiquette, because if you eat the carbos on their own, without protein, you are going to wear it. And the chocolate "habit" has come to revisit me in the last two months, since March 2016. When I started taking the L-phenylalanine in 09-2015, poof, the chocolate "habit" was gone, after getting stiffed with it for 14 years. Though it seems the perps have re-invoked their brown color focus of late; more vehicles, more shit games, more gangstalkers wearing brown clothing etc. But they still have me off coffee for over a year, which just pisses me off considerably.
Cashed my paycheck with my usual consort of freaks/stalkers; the large gutted males and the elder-stalkers seem to be vogue of late. Tattoos are now getting "stalk time" too as the good weather is here. And my work colleague has two forearms full for crissakes. Tats are so disgusting. Last week at the courier office, the woman at the counter had tats on her arms like they were splatter marks, something I found extremely off-putting. And if I don't like tattoos, why am I getting hounded by this Unfavored freak show theme all the time?
The apparent rationale by way of recent email is that the book seller who sent me the "Bridges of Madison County" in error claims to not have any order details or financial information, just the item and recipient and address. He suggests it could be a gift. Like from whom? And why not tell me who for crissakes?
05-18-2016
Some asshole, in conventional terms at least, entered my residence in my absence sometime today and without notice or permission and bent the seat of my chair. Presumably, the asshole stood on it to access a high object, and then ventured too far on the seat and bent the frame of the seat. (Or else was heavier than I am (200lb), as I have stood on this seat (not recently), and never bent it). I texted the landlady to ask if anyone had been let in, and she said no. And what purpose does this serve, this insane stupid and bone-headed sabotage? I am going to replace it as the seat now has a downward slope on it which is not comfortable. Is this some kind of body memory test game or what? Though in my experience, the perps had taken over my body memory sometime in 2008 or so, when they had me inadvertently increase the speed of the treadmill (at a gym) I was on and I didn't notice.
R side, dented, should be smooth so it lies flat. L side is less dented. And it won't lie flat anymore. I turfed it outside to the back lane, which "happened" to be the day the landlord mowed the grass there and he stuffed on the other side in a less visible location. I put it back and someone took it inside of a day, possible the garbage collectors as it was garbage day then.
My sore chest and arm was still noticeable this morning, but now in the evening it is bothering me less. I cannot understand what on earth the assholes would get from this, adding pain at every torso turn or high arm reach.
And where has Rachael O gone in the blogosphere, or anywhere else for that matter? Her last post was April 04, 2016, and I have never known her to drop out of sight with no notice. Always more concerning when a TI is forced to live rough, as the event-scape is a whole lot more variable to say the least. Never mind that I never got a reply my challenge to her that it was an absurd assertion that I was a perp and I directed her exactly how to go about performing due diligence in this blog. (Contact Debbie Newhook at osnanaimo.org). Funny how that "happens"; an urgent need for action and the main player disappears.
05-19-2016
Vineyard work today, keeping the irrigation lines taut and securing them to end posts. Some FUD from the boss lady as to what she wanted, but I got it all done today. And of course she laid on a list of lots of other things to do, one being painting. And do I ever loathe that activity, in good part because in a world of things going wrong at 50x the normal rate, I do NOT need anything going wrong on this job. It scares me shitless and there is no one else to hand it over to. My co-worker is dispatched elsewhere in this curious on-then-off hiring arrangement he suffers by, or at least, apparently so.
05-20-2016
A shit storm of heretofore unknown proportions this morning. No wonder they had me awaken 20 minutes early before the alarm. No less than four bowel movements before I got ready to go, plus a fake one where nothing happened. Said four bowel movements were all cow pies, and all in the toilet thankfully. Some three tablets of Immodium saved me until about 1000h, just before I was to apply paint to a door at work, (after doing the prep work) when yet another shit attack came on, again, thankfully arranged to be in the toilet. Another tablet of Immodium saved me for the rest of the day. No wonder they put the double pack on sale last weekend at LD.
And why this all of a sudden when I eat the same food day in and out? Why, I added diced red peppers into my regular chicken-onion-mushroom gumbo last night, and I suppose that is the putative cause, at least from the deranged perp perspective. About six weeks ago a shit attack came on the morning following imbibing one glass of pomegranate juice in the prior evening, though I have had a few attacks since, but without apparent red food or drink causal. And about three years ago a major shit attack came on when I ate a bowlful of cherries off the tree, as there was a cherry tree at the vineyard I worked. Though, it is said that red colored food makes hyperactive children (ADHD, or ADD-H) more hyper.
The perps have a bizarre fascination with paint, and have hounded me on the buses and streets with commercial painting personnel, decked out in their trades outfits and artfully splattered with paint of course. I picked up the quart can of paint two days and took it into work, per instructions, not thinking I would be the schmo who would be applying it. (And extra gangstalking coverage while ferrying this quart of paint, including a pit lamper when I exited my parked vehicle). But as it "happened", per yesterday's work instructions, I was to be doing the job. I hate painting, and as mentioned above, all manner of things go wrong, especially with paint. For all the acute stress over this job, there were no major problems, and in fact, the job went reasonably well. I was in the paint store this morning for extra supplies. For the record, it was a dark grey, semigloss, much the same as the coat that was on the door and trim.
05-21-2016
Saturday on this here long weekend, and I was expecting to work at the casual labor vineyard. It was raining, and although there was some convergence by the Punjabi workers, a foreman came by, though not the regular foreman, though I did recognize the face. He said, after looking at his cell phone, that it would be too wet to work today. This was after I got into my rain gear and rubber boots in preparation for a day's wet work. Ergo, no work, or at least not for me. What transpired after that in Punjabi I have no idea. Here the perps block me from going to this Saturday work site for four weeks, (other jobs, and a useless doctor's visit), and then pull a rain day to then stop me from working yet again.
Then to stoke up the FUD, the foreman mentioned I hadn't been there for a while, and I mentioned above work arrangements, and he wanted me for next weekend. And of course I "forgot" that my vehicle gets attended to next Saturday at the dealership. I made the appointment yesterday and didn't expect to get in for three weeks and lo, if they booked me in a week. Funny how that "happens", not to mention the "forget" Fuckery to crank up my angst over the casual labor employer. So should I fess up and attempt to clear up the "casual" side my work understanding or let it slide? Bring on the Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt.
I am now cranked about web and surveillance cams, though I don't know why. (Because I am literally and figuratively surveilled and intruded up the asshole every microsecond by the Pyschopathic Confederacy if you accept the given experiences as given on this blog). The above mentioned intrusion with the broken furniture is "bothering" me, using the term loosely. This is at least the fourth seeming landlord intrusion in three years, one other remarkable time was the plaster mess on my table after someone worked on the install of the covering of the old air conditioner location. And it is now where the heat pump unit is, and very possibly the recent intrusion and furniture damage was due to a semi-annual inspection of the unit that precipitated in the careless heat pump technician to bend the chair seat.
As it "happens" I have spare chair from the MCdos renovation job I did in 12-2015, so that is now my regular table chair. It is at least 3" higher and with a wood seat. Better yet, it is built of rigid steel so no tradesman can fuck it up. So why do the perps have to go through this outrageous intrusion nonsense when they could of taken out the chair with a rivet "malfunction"?
05-22-2016
Sunday, and the vexations of getting to full PC functionality, before the take down of 12-2015 continue. I cannot get audio files to play for crissakes, and it is a beautiful exploitable set up by the perps; OPPO playback device, J River software and Windows 10, and nothing seems to fucking work. Some 700 audio files and I have to take them to the player by USB stick for crissakes, and suffer the one album-at-a-time klunky interface via this PC screen. In the course of support emails with OPPO I wrote them that they should make dedicated storage and interface devices. Though I am not optimistic, as they just released an app for Android, devolving the interface to someone else, embracing the essential problem all over again. And of course, the Android interface doesn't work for me for some reason.
And so the audio playing sabotage continues, now since the headphone only days of 12-2015;
And along the way, the assholes messed with the printer for another rage-ifcation stunt, ultimately copying to Notepad to save the day, even if it double spaced the output.
And keeping with the interface technology-gone-wrong theme, the assholes had the alarm set on my watch from last week's returned new watch caper, and started up the adversity in getting the alarm turned off without clobbering anything else. Then they had the chime feature turned on, and I cannot get this turned off
05-23-2016
A Victoria Day holiday Monday in these here parts, and I am painting (of all things) the wall portion where the plywood cover is over top of the former air conditioner location. It has been sitting that way for at least two years, and the recent "mistake" in ordering (online) too many under-shelf hangers means that I am going to put in a longer shelf in. So... that snowballed into dealing with the big blotch of plywood on the wall. Which dealt with filling holes and then painting on patches in the bathroom and other areas. Funny how that happens; an activity that I have avoided for over 14 years, and here they are having me perform this twice inside of a week.
Yesterday, Sunday, I got the paint, and had my usual consort of faux shoppers loitering around, presumably for the moment I actually paid for it all. But as the perps are obsessed over paint, why, it could be that too.
Saw the director's cut of "JFK" on DVD and the director's commentary the last two evenings. A well done show, and still holds up factually based on more recent readings. And an ironic gotcha in casting an older Jim Garrison as Earl Warren, something I didn't know until last night. All members of the Warren Commission should of been sent to prison; just read Accessories After the Fact or On the Trail of the Assassins for starters. Despicable, and proof writ large that the planners of the whole thing had all the bases covered. Lets see; in preparation they stand down the military guard, re-route along a more vulnerable route, then they kill a sitting US president and then debase the autopsies, the Warren Commison and even the much later House Select Committee on Assassinations. And it seems the story was already pre-readied, as even Edgar J Hoover was promoting the single assassin theory by day's end. And the details of the suspect were in all the newspapers, even within hours, which included New Zealand newspapers as shown in the film. Talk about info-containment. And too, one can assume the FBI, the CIA and possibly military intelligence agencies were complicit in shoveling the evidence under the carpet. And given the unusual witness attrition rate afterward, one can assume the masters of Fuckery were pulling strings too, and killing enough witnesses even all the way to the HSCA in 1978. No wonder they went with the (mind controlled) lone nutter theory again with RFK, but even there the shot count doesn't add up. And so it goes, and for what?
More wall painting today; the computer matched color sample wasn't exact, and so I painted a 12' wall to cover all patches that stood out, the most prominent being the former air conditioner region. That meant more masking and a trip to the local hardware store. The back lane HD motorcycle noise was duly cranked up at different intervals today, even putting an extra noisy third one.
Time to call this one done for the week, even if a day late for readers outside this country.
All day under a concrete roofed warehouse dealing with repacking and hefting wine cases (36lb) today. I had a an engaging co-worker, so it wasn't all bad. Better yet, we were left alone for the most part, though the boss lady came and seemed to approve of our work and level of accomplishment. There were a few males coursing by, on foot or on forklifts, but it wasn't the biggest deal.
Yoga-stalk tonight, and two other dudes and four other women. I see they want to hold the Solstice session on June 20 outside in a public park. Interesting that, all those spinal flexings and ass-in-air bending (downward dog) in the great outdoors. Though I suppose outside yoga has been around for millennia, just not for me.
I see the winsome, slim, mop-headed babe was there again upon exiting the yoga class, crossing in front of me and bending over, much like last week, though at a respectful distance and all. Funny how they have now moved to putting the attractive babes outside the classroom and visible upon exit, while the in-class women are nothing to look at now. Most curious. I predict the fugly female instructor next, though I have been through a few of them, but not lately (last two years).
05-17-2016
All day I had an ache in my chest cavity, as if I over exerted myself yesterday. Like WTF; I didn't, and am very careful about such. Twists and turns of my upper torso are painful.
And don't blame it on yoga last night either, because there was nothing new we did. Which should of ameliorated the problem, if of organic origin.
Why am I so tired in the evenings now? Just plain wiped out. Worse yet, the assholes have me each tortilla chips and chocolate before dinner. A total violation of my dining etiquette, because if you eat the carbos on their own, without protein, you are going to wear it. And the chocolate "habit" has come to revisit me in the last two months, since March 2016. When I started taking the L-phenylalanine in 09-2015, poof, the chocolate "habit" was gone, after getting stiffed with it for 14 years. Though it seems the perps have re-invoked their brown color focus of late; more vehicles, more shit games, more gangstalkers wearing brown clothing etc. But they still have me off coffee for over a year, which just pisses me off considerably.
Cashed my paycheck with my usual consort of freaks/stalkers; the large gutted males and the elder-stalkers seem to be vogue of late. Tattoos are now getting "stalk time" too as the good weather is here. And my work colleague has two forearms full for crissakes. Tats are so disgusting. Last week at the courier office, the woman at the counter had tats on her arms like they were splatter marks, something I found extremely off-putting. And if I don't like tattoos, why am I getting hounded by this Unfavored freak show theme all the time?
The apparent rationale by way of recent email is that the book seller who sent me the "Bridges of Madison County" in error claims to not have any order details or financial information, just the item and recipient and address. He suggests it could be a gift. Like from whom? And why not tell me who for crissakes?
05-18-2016
Some asshole, in conventional terms at least, entered my residence in my absence sometime today and without notice or permission and bent the seat of my chair. Presumably, the asshole stood on it to access a high object, and then ventured too far on the seat and bent the frame of the seat. (Or else was heavier than I am (200lb), as I have stood on this seat (not recently), and never bent it). I texted the landlady to ask if anyone had been let in, and she said no. And what purpose does this serve, this insane stupid and bone-headed sabotage? I am going to replace it as the seat now has a downward slope on it which is not comfortable. Is this some kind of body memory test game or what? Though in my experience, the perps had taken over my body memory sometime in 2008 or so, when they had me inadvertently increase the speed of the treadmill (at a gym) I was on and I didn't notice.
R side, dented, should be smooth so it lies flat. L side is less dented. And it won't lie flat anymore. I turfed it outside to the back lane, which "happened" to be the day the landlord mowed the grass there and he stuffed on the other side in a less visible location. I put it back and someone took it inside of a day, possible the garbage collectors as it was garbage day then.
My sore chest and arm was still noticeable this morning, but now in the evening it is bothering me less. I cannot understand what on earth the assholes would get from this, adding pain at every torso turn or high arm reach.
And where has Rachael O gone in the blogosphere, or anywhere else for that matter? Her last post was April 04, 2016, and I have never known her to drop out of sight with no notice. Always more concerning when a TI is forced to live rough, as the event-scape is a whole lot more variable to say the least. Never mind that I never got a reply my challenge to her that it was an absurd assertion that I was a perp and I directed her exactly how to go about performing due diligence in this blog. (Contact Debbie Newhook at osnanaimo.org). Funny how that "happens"; an urgent need for action and the main player disappears.
05-19-2016
Vineyard work today, keeping the irrigation lines taut and securing them to end posts. Some FUD from the boss lady as to what she wanted, but I got it all done today. And of course she laid on a list of lots of other things to do, one being painting. And do I ever loathe that activity, in good part because in a world of things going wrong at 50x the normal rate, I do NOT need anything going wrong on this job. It scares me shitless and there is no one else to hand it over to. My co-worker is dispatched elsewhere in this curious on-then-off hiring arrangement he suffers by, or at least, apparently so.
05-20-2016
A shit storm of heretofore unknown proportions this morning. No wonder they had me awaken 20 minutes early before the alarm. No less than four bowel movements before I got ready to go, plus a fake one where nothing happened. Said four bowel movements were all cow pies, and all in the toilet thankfully. Some three tablets of Immodium saved me until about 1000h, just before I was to apply paint to a door at work, (after doing the prep work) when yet another shit attack came on, again, thankfully arranged to be in the toilet. Another tablet of Immodium saved me for the rest of the day. No wonder they put the double pack on sale last weekend at LD.
And why this all of a sudden when I eat the same food day in and out? Why, I added diced red peppers into my regular chicken-onion-mushroom gumbo last night, and I suppose that is the putative cause, at least from the deranged perp perspective. About six weeks ago a shit attack came on the morning following imbibing one glass of pomegranate juice in the prior evening, though I have had a few attacks since, but without apparent red food or drink causal. And about three years ago a major shit attack came on when I ate a bowlful of cherries off the tree, as there was a cherry tree at the vineyard I worked. Though, it is said that red colored food makes hyperactive children (ADHD, or ADD-H) more hyper.
The perps have a bizarre fascination with paint, and have hounded me on the buses and streets with commercial painting personnel, decked out in their trades outfits and artfully splattered with paint of course. I picked up the quart can of paint two days and took it into work, per instructions, not thinking I would be the schmo who would be applying it. (And extra gangstalking coverage while ferrying this quart of paint, including a pit lamper when I exited my parked vehicle). But as it "happened", per yesterday's work instructions, I was to be doing the job. I hate painting, and as mentioned above, all manner of things go wrong, especially with paint. For all the acute stress over this job, there were no major problems, and in fact, the job went reasonably well. I was in the paint store this morning for extra supplies. For the record, it was a dark grey, semigloss, much the same as the coat that was on the door and trim.
05-21-2016
Saturday on this here long weekend, and I was expecting to work at the casual labor vineyard. It was raining, and although there was some convergence by the Punjabi workers, a foreman came by, though not the regular foreman, though I did recognize the face. He said, after looking at his cell phone, that it would be too wet to work today. This was after I got into my rain gear and rubber boots in preparation for a day's wet work. Ergo, no work, or at least not for me. What transpired after that in Punjabi I have no idea. Here the perps block me from going to this Saturday work site for four weeks, (other jobs, and a useless doctor's visit), and then pull a rain day to then stop me from working yet again.
Then to stoke up the FUD, the foreman mentioned I hadn't been there for a while, and I mentioned above work arrangements, and he wanted me for next weekend. And of course I "forgot" that my vehicle gets attended to next Saturday at the dealership. I made the appointment yesterday and didn't expect to get in for three weeks and lo, if they booked me in a week. Funny how that "happens", not to mention the "forget" Fuckery to crank up my angst over the casual labor employer. So should I fess up and attempt to clear up the "casual" side my work understanding or let it slide? Bring on the Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt.
I am now cranked about web and surveillance cams, though I don't know why. (Because I am literally and figuratively surveilled and intruded up the asshole every microsecond by the Pyschopathic Confederacy if you accept the given experiences as given on this blog). The above mentioned intrusion with the broken furniture is "bothering" me, using the term loosely. This is at least the fourth seeming landlord intrusion in three years, one other remarkable time was the plaster mess on my table after someone worked on the install of the covering of the old air conditioner location. And it is now where the heat pump unit is, and very possibly the recent intrusion and furniture damage was due to a semi-annual inspection of the unit that precipitated in the careless heat pump technician to bend the chair seat.
As it "happens" I have spare chair from the MCdos renovation job I did in 12-2015, so that is now my regular table chair. It is at least 3" higher and with a wood seat. Better yet, it is built of rigid steel so no tradesman can fuck it up. So why do the perps have to go through this outrageous intrusion nonsense when they could of taken out the chair with a rivet "malfunction"?
05-22-2016
Sunday, and the vexations of getting to full PC functionality, before the take down of 12-2015 continue. I cannot get audio files to play for crissakes, and it is a beautiful exploitable set up by the perps; OPPO playback device, J River software and Windows 10, and nothing seems to fucking work. Some 700 audio files and I have to take them to the player by USB stick for crissakes, and suffer the one album-at-a-time klunky interface via this PC screen. In the course of support emails with OPPO I wrote them that they should make dedicated storage and interface devices. Though I am not optimistic, as they just released an app for Android, devolving the interface to someone else, embracing the essential problem all over again. And of course, the Android interface doesn't work for me for some reason.
And so the audio playing sabotage continues, now since the headphone only days of 12-2015;
- no audio files as the PC was out of commission from 12-2015 to last week, so I purchased some new music, discs and files
- new speakers but the amp crapped out, and was sent to Chicago
- said amp came back from Chicago not fully repaired, with static in the L channel, and was sent back
- purchased a new amp and got the OPPO player to play discs through it, then from the USB stick, and even audio from DVD's
- a FM tuner was purchased, but it took four weeks for the correct aerial connection to arrive
- then only a single decent FM channel available, the immigration promoting CBC just to rile me up
- then the PC and my audio files come back and lo, it won't play through the software, the same I had before
- and to add insult to injury, the same software player on the PC won't even play into headphones, my stock solution for the past 10 years, but Youtube works fine.
And along the way, the assholes messed with the printer for another rage-ifcation stunt, ultimately copying to Notepad to save the day, even if it double spaced the output.
And keeping with the interface technology-gone-wrong theme, the assholes had the alarm set on my watch from last week's returned new watch caper, and started up the adversity in getting the alarm turned off without clobbering anything else. Then they had the chime feature turned on, and I cannot get this turned off
05-23-2016
A Victoria Day holiday Monday in these here parts, and I am painting (of all things) the wall portion where the plywood cover is over top of the former air conditioner location. It has been sitting that way for at least two years, and the recent "mistake" in ordering (online) too many under-shelf hangers means that I am going to put in a longer shelf in. So... that snowballed into dealing with the big blotch of plywood on the wall. Which dealt with filling holes and then painting on patches in the bathroom and other areas. Funny how that happens; an activity that I have avoided for over 14 years, and here they are having me perform this twice inside of a week.
Yesterday, Sunday, I got the paint, and had my usual consort of faux shoppers loitering around, presumably for the moment I actually paid for it all. But as the perps are obsessed over paint, why, it could be that too.
Saw the director's cut of "JFK" on DVD and the director's commentary the last two evenings. A well done show, and still holds up factually based on more recent readings. And an ironic gotcha in casting an older Jim Garrison as Earl Warren, something I didn't know until last night. All members of the Warren Commission should of been sent to prison; just read Accessories After the Fact or On the Trail of the Assassins for starters. Despicable, and proof writ large that the planners of the whole thing had all the bases covered. Lets see; in preparation they stand down the military guard, re-route along a more vulnerable route, then they kill a sitting US president and then debase the autopsies, the Warren Commison and even the much later House Select Committee on Assassinations. And it seems the story was already pre-readied, as even Edgar J Hoover was promoting the single assassin theory by day's end. And the details of the suspect were in all the newspapers, even within hours, which included New Zealand newspapers as shown in the film. Talk about info-containment. And too, one can assume the FBI, the CIA and possibly military intelligence agencies were complicit in shoveling the evidence under the carpet. And given the unusual witness attrition rate afterward, one can assume the masters of Fuckery were pulling strings too, and killing enough witnesses even all the way to the HSCA in 1978. No wonder they went with the (mind controlled) lone nutter theory again with RFK, but even there the shot count doesn't add up. And so it goes, and for what?
More wall painting today; the computer matched color sample wasn't exact, and so I painted a 12' wall to cover all patches that stood out, the most prominent being the former air conditioner region. That meant more masking and a trip to the local hardware store. The back lane HD motorcycle noise was duly cranked up at different intervals today, even putting an extra noisy third one.
Time to call this one done for the week, even if a day late for readers outside this country.
Sunday, July 19, 2015
Bobs on Bob
07-14-2015
More high strangeness at yoga yesterday. The perps had me take a mega shit just before heading there, and what a toilet blocker it was. I gave it the bleach solution and took off as I was running late. I got there four minutes before class started, and lo, everyone was there, ready to go. Lots of new faces, and it almost looked as if class had begun as six of 12 or so were doing the same lying down butterfly pose. Image that, half the class independently (har, har) performing the same pose on their own volition while the instructor sat oblivious to it all, reading her lesson plan.
Every so often, about every four months they pull this, where instead of being the first, or almost so, I was the last to arrive. And lo, if my usual spot was vacant, and in the mind fuck world I am in, why, I didn't "see" any other locations available. And lo, if this fugly male wasn't at the mat next to me, someone new and featured it would seem, as he had a most peculiar hair-do. A two level cut with the sides being a half inch or so (with visible scalp), and the middle strip long enough to have his hair in a tight bob. I get these ridiculous male hair-dos every so often, more ridiculous than male ponytails even. And I have had at least four such male "bobs" on ambulatory gangstalk duty this past week, so why not plant one next to the victim for his yoga class to gross him out for the whole session?
And so in the vernacular that takes hold in any sustained different circumstances , all the males that wear this bob-do get called "Bob", just as the ball cap wearing ones get called "Ball Caps". Nothing original there of course, but it helps to concisely frame the category of freak to which I am being visually subjected. And too, to engage in the male-female games of "gender bender" appearance, where for example, the cute young babe wears a fedora. (There have been more than a few in the last 13 years of this abuse-athon).
And why is it at yoga with such a large class am I so often the first to exit while everyone else makes busy with their head down and their mat cleaning activity? And I am almost furthest from the door.
But all wasn't gangstalk gloom at yoga; the darling pixie instructor is always easy on the eye, and this time "happening" to wear identical black spandex shorts as my own. Her yoga wardrobe is highly variable and I don't view these occasional "clothing look alikes" as a coincidence. One example has been having gangstalkers in "just stand there" mode wearing the same shorts as me near the checkout at the grocery store.
And also at yoga, a first; after attempting for two years to do the wheel pose and not being able to push myself off the floor, I could today. That is a seeming consequence of taking iron supplements for the last four weeks, having found that I was low in iron and it likely being a life-long condition that all those compliant doctors somehow failed to mention/look for.
07-15-2015
The normally freaky hair stylist school where I get hair cuts and leg waxes went to extra lengths to ensure a freak-stream (aka, a parade of the Unfavored) while captive in the stylist's chair. It began with a wheelchair clusterfuck at the entrance, one coming through the door with an adverse grade and my stylist "happening" to be passing by and helping out the woman in the wheel chair. The regular wheel chair receptionist woman with revolting armfuls of tattoos at the front desk couldn't help any, having just arrived from a break. (When I arrived only 60 seconds a different woman was on reception duty. It is very common for the perps to arrange reception and cashier staff while at the counter, or shortly afterward).
Then once seated with washed hair and having explained what I wanted done, a 6'6" negro (rare as hen's teeth in this town) male arrived at the next station, putzing with head models. If that wasn't freak enough, a red haired stylist student paraded behind me, as seen in the mirror, making chat with my stylist for more loiter time. The known-to-me very over-sized spa training supervisor also jumped into the freak parade, making at least six passes. Then a woman stylist student set up at the opposite adjacent station, with a chest and arms chock full of tattoos. Add in a chummy stylist student with green/blue tinted hair for more loiter time in the mirror. The hair stylist's instructor came a couple of times too, being way too frosty when I had met her at least twice as she was the receptionist then. She had a two level asymmetrical hair cut, something I find a little perturbing for some unknown reason, though not enough to be classified as a Freak or more correctly, one of the Unfavored. And she did have a substantial butt, another borderline Unfavored feature. The perps like to plant almost-Unfavored/freaks on me to test my reactions. The only "normal" looking (non-freak) was my stylist student, being one of the Favoreds with a blonde hair do.
While in the vineyard and working a row that has a sight line on the busy two way arterial rode, why, a negro male stops his truck in mid road and chooses exactly the location I see the road. Some 3' further ahead or back, and I would not of seen this particular specimen of an Unfavored demographic group. He sat in his vehicle looking straight ahead and with no apparent reason for about 20 seconds and then proceeded. Like WTF; who would be so inane to stop in mid-road (that has 8 to 15 vehicles per minute during weekday daytime), and to top it off, makes himself visible to me with a narrow sight-line (7') from 70' away). I assume this was a negro `warm up`prior to visiting the hair stylist, per above freak show.
07-16-2015
A variety of vineyard work; weed-eating, herbicide-ing, dead plant material removal and making sure I stay out of the view of customers as they arrived.
07-17-2015
An end of the work day irrigation repair job, as this leak got worse over the past few days. I was using a turquoise colored PVC glue, and my boss arrived to give me a belated birthday card in a turquoise envelope. We chatted for a minute, and I got back to my pipe work. And lo, if a few minutes later, the perps had me knock over the glue pot onto a rounded stone, but thankfully there was sufficient remaining to finish the job.
After work, depositing my much needed paycheck in the bank ATM with a strangely low gangstalker count, some four vehicles converged on me while I was about to start my vehicle. An ambulatory negro in a turquoise T-shirt and dark shorts was also part of the visual arrangements. I took a route to avoid all the gangstalker action, and lo, if the negro, now running on the crosswalk doesn`t cross my path while I was stopped at the traffic control light. Can we get enough turquoise going, and especially a before and after paycheck deposition.
07-18-2015
Saturday, at my alternate vineyard employer. (I was told before I was hired it was a 7-day per week crew, but it has turned out to be Saturdays only. Probably a good thing to have one day off a week to thwart perp harassment exploitation. The crew is mostly Punjabis, and I have worked many farm jobs with them over the past seven years. And the inevitable turbans, a much Unfavored head wear item. The four women are the most curious, as they wear long flowing garments with oversized ball caps. One even wears a scarf across her face, just below her sunglasses. I find this get up just ridiculous, but again, for reasons the perps know better than me, they like to plant this kind of nun garb around me, save the dark colors. The Sound of Music might of been one of their first such Unfavored exposes, as it began in a RC church with the maladjusted junior nun played by Julie Andrews. And why do the perps like to bring on RC clerical garb as Unfavored freak shows.
The reason maybe that I was placed in an RC church with the Duplessis Orphans during my stay in Montreal during my recall-deleted years, aged 2 to 5. My father was taking his PhD in Geology at McGill at the time, and of course, that brings in another Canadian atrocity, the clinical machinations (aka patient mind trashing) of Dr. Ewan Cameron. He had a Scottish accent at the time say the witnesses, and lo, if the perps don`t stalk me with Scottish accented gangstalkers. My ex-wife was from Scotland too, though without the accent for the most part.
And all day long, the perps harassed me when using clippers while doing bunch thinning; I could not be allowed to used them like anyone else, my fingers were directed to place the clippers above and below the intended cut location before I was allowed to cut the extra fruit bunches. This went on all day long.
Anyhow, now Sunday night, and time to get this posted.
More high strangeness at yoga yesterday. The perps had me take a mega shit just before heading there, and what a toilet blocker it was. I gave it the bleach solution and took off as I was running late. I got there four minutes before class started, and lo, everyone was there, ready to go. Lots of new faces, and it almost looked as if class had begun as six of 12 or so were doing the same lying down butterfly pose. Image that, half the class independently (har, har) performing the same pose on their own volition while the instructor sat oblivious to it all, reading her lesson plan.
Every so often, about every four months they pull this, where instead of being the first, or almost so, I was the last to arrive. And lo, if my usual spot was vacant, and in the mind fuck world I am in, why, I didn't "see" any other locations available. And lo, if this fugly male wasn't at the mat next to me, someone new and featured it would seem, as he had a most peculiar hair-do. A two level cut with the sides being a half inch or so (with visible scalp), and the middle strip long enough to have his hair in a tight bob. I get these ridiculous male hair-dos every so often, more ridiculous than male ponytails even. And I have had at least four such male "bobs" on ambulatory gangstalk duty this past week, so why not plant one next to the victim for his yoga class to gross him out for the whole session?
And so in the vernacular that takes hold in any sustained different circumstances , all the males that wear this bob-do get called "Bob", just as the ball cap wearing ones get called "Ball Caps". Nothing original there of course, but it helps to concisely frame the category of freak to which I am being visually subjected. And too, to engage in the male-female games of "gender bender" appearance, where for example, the cute young babe wears a fedora. (There have been more than a few in the last 13 years of this abuse-athon).
And why is it at yoga with such a large class am I so often the first to exit while everyone else makes busy with their head down and their mat cleaning activity? And I am almost furthest from the door.
But all wasn't gangstalk gloom at yoga; the darling pixie instructor is always easy on the eye, and this time "happening" to wear identical black spandex shorts as my own. Her yoga wardrobe is highly variable and I don't view these occasional "clothing look alikes" as a coincidence. One example has been having gangstalkers in "just stand there" mode wearing the same shorts as me near the checkout at the grocery store.
And also at yoga, a first; after attempting for two years to do the wheel pose and not being able to push myself off the floor, I could today. That is a seeming consequence of taking iron supplements for the last four weeks, having found that I was low in iron and it likely being a life-long condition that all those compliant doctors somehow failed to mention/look for.
07-15-2015
The normally freaky hair stylist school where I get hair cuts and leg waxes went to extra lengths to ensure a freak-stream (aka, a parade of the Unfavored) while captive in the stylist's chair. It began with a wheelchair clusterfuck at the entrance, one coming through the door with an adverse grade and my stylist "happening" to be passing by and helping out the woman in the wheel chair. The regular wheel chair receptionist woman with revolting armfuls of tattoos at the front desk couldn't help any, having just arrived from a break. (When I arrived only 60 seconds a different woman was on reception duty. It is very common for the perps to arrange reception and cashier staff while at the counter, or shortly afterward).
Then once seated with washed hair and having explained what I wanted done, a 6'6" negro (rare as hen's teeth in this town) male arrived at the next station, putzing with head models. If that wasn't freak enough, a red haired stylist student paraded behind me, as seen in the mirror, making chat with my stylist for more loiter time. The known-to-me very over-sized spa training supervisor also jumped into the freak parade, making at least six passes. Then a woman stylist student set up at the opposite adjacent station, with a chest and arms chock full of tattoos. Add in a chummy stylist student with green/blue tinted hair for more loiter time in the mirror. The hair stylist's instructor came a couple of times too, being way too frosty when I had met her at least twice as she was the receptionist then. She had a two level asymmetrical hair cut, something I find a little perturbing for some unknown reason, though not enough to be classified as a Freak or more correctly, one of the Unfavored. And she did have a substantial butt, another borderline Unfavored feature. The perps like to plant almost-Unfavored/freaks on me to test my reactions. The only "normal" looking (non-freak) was my stylist student, being one of the Favoreds with a blonde hair do.
While in the vineyard and working a row that has a sight line on the busy two way arterial rode, why, a negro male stops his truck in mid road and chooses exactly the location I see the road. Some 3' further ahead or back, and I would not of seen this particular specimen of an Unfavored demographic group. He sat in his vehicle looking straight ahead and with no apparent reason for about 20 seconds and then proceeded. Like WTF; who would be so inane to stop in mid-road (that has 8 to 15 vehicles per minute during weekday daytime), and to top it off, makes himself visible to me with a narrow sight-line (7') from 70' away). I assume this was a negro `warm up`prior to visiting the hair stylist, per above freak show.
07-16-2015
A variety of vineyard work; weed-eating, herbicide-ing, dead plant material removal and making sure I stay out of the view of customers as they arrived.
07-17-2015
An end of the work day irrigation repair job, as this leak got worse over the past few days. I was using a turquoise colored PVC glue, and my boss arrived to give me a belated birthday card in a turquoise envelope. We chatted for a minute, and I got back to my pipe work. And lo, if a few minutes later, the perps had me knock over the glue pot onto a rounded stone, but thankfully there was sufficient remaining to finish the job.
After work, depositing my much needed paycheck in the bank ATM with a strangely low gangstalker count, some four vehicles converged on me while I was about to start my vehicle. An ambulatory negro in a turquoise T-shirt and dark shorts was also part of the visual arrangements. I took a route to avoid all the gangstalker action, and lo, if the negro, now running on the crosswalk doesn`t cross my path while I was stopped at the traffic control light. Can we get enough turquoise going, and especially a before and after paycheck deposition.
07-18-2015
Saturday, at my alternate vineyard employer. (I was told before I was hired it was a 7-day per week crew, but it has turned out to be Saturdays only. Probably a good thing to have one day off a week to thwart perp harassment exploitation. The crew is mostly Punjabis, and I have worked many farm jobs with them over the past seven years. And the inevitable turbans, a much Unfavored head wear item. The four women are the most curious, as they wear long flowing garments with oversized ball caps. One even wears a scarf across her face, just below her sunglasses. I find this get up just ridiculous, but again, for reasons the perps know better than me, they like to plant this kind of nun garb around me, save the dark colors. The Sound of Music might of been one of their first such Unfavored exposes, as it began in a RC church with the maladjusted junior nun played by Julie Andrews. And why do the perps like to bring on RC clerical garb as Unfavored freak shows.
The reason maybe that I was placed in an RC church with the Duplessis Orphans during my stay in Montreal during my recall-deleted years, aged 2 to 5. My father was taking his PhD in Geology at McGill at the time, and of course, that brings in another Canadian atrocity, the clinical machinations (aka patient mind trashing) of Dr. Ewan Cameron. He had a Scottish accent at the time say the witnesses, and lo, if the perps don`t stalk me with Scottish accented gangstalkers. My ex-wife was from Scotland too, though without the accent for the most part.
And all day long, the perps harassed me when using clippers while doing bunch thinning; I could not be allowed to used them like anyone else, my fingers were directed to place the clippers above and below the intended cut location before I was allowed to cut the extra fruit bunches. This went on all day long.
Anyhow, now Sunday night, and time to get this posted.
Monday, June 08, 2015
Rain On
06-02-2015
A very wet morning this Tuesday after a rare Monday off, and too, yoga class yesterday evening. I went to work at 0700h, per normal routine, but was text-ed to come back at 0900h. It is a 10 minute commute, so it wasn't a big deal to come back and deal with the few loose ends from yesterday. A loose end was that my boots and socks were filled with grass darts, those seeds with the barbs on them that have the amazing ability to go 6" down from the boot top. The socks are worse, and I haven't taken them on yet, sensing that it is best done outside, or even, after laundering when there is likely to be fewer of them. Though, the trick is to isolate them in a mesh bag so they don't send darts into the rest of the laundry.
I went to a local viticulture supplier to get tying wire for tying down the shoots onto the trellis wires, and they were a tan brown color. I didn't think anything about it until a few days later (read on). I got a row finished with these new ties, as I had run out of the (darker) brown spool tying wire. And lo, if I didn't get a phone call to pack brown cardboard boxes of wine, or re-pack and assemble the order on two pallets. More "browning around" as I see it.
06-04-2015
As a member of the pallet packing crew of six today, I had plenty enough brown boxes to handle, pack into shipping boxes and also to break down the empty ones. I was a member of one of these events a few months ago, and there was considerable gangstalking to be on my tail or to wave fingers in my face etc. The gangstalking wasn't so aggressive as last time at this same location, but was plenty evident to me. I suppose this would be another case of brown boxstalking. Later I went to the vineyard to get tucking done, as many of the vines had fallen off the trellis wire and landed on the ground.
06-05-2015
Finally, I get to resume the tying down work at the vineyard mentioned above, and lo, if the perps didn't pull a shit stunt that I will refrain from detailing. I wasn't allowed to know I needed to take a crap, and only found out at the end of the day. Said shit color was identical to the tying wire I was using, and yet the clean up was much darker. And so goes this game of "browning around" in all its infamy.
Long time readers will know that the day of the apartment invasion when they first outed themselves as the berserk/overt gang, one of the perps in my apartment put an inflated balloon into the toilet as it was being flushed. And lo, if I didn't "forget", and the toilet got blocked for reason, and it was quite the effort to get it unplugged. And so began 10 years of blocked toilets, and the assholes only gave this one a rest in late 2011, only to resurrect this stunt at a shared house.
06-07-2015 Sunday
My daughter's 25th birthday today, and I was allowed to send a card and small gift that got there in time, the Friday before the weekend. And due to adversities on two home furnishing web sites, I could not get a gift card in time, so I sent her $100 via interbank transfer. As it "happened" she phoned just was I was sending her the money online. (Her voice mail box was full and I had sent her an email to wish her a happy birthday). Later, it became apparent that the internet transfer did not occur; no error messages or pending transactions.
So I sent her another transfer a few hours later, and lo, it got through. Like WTF; who keeps organizing these "coincidences" of an intended money transfer recipient who "happens" to phone me at that very instant, then blocks the transfer? Last year the perps wiped my recall as to which day her birthday was, and it would not be anything that would forget on my own.
06-08-2015
This is the eve of my impending colonoscopy and gastroscopy, and I am not to eat anything for two days. I call this the ultimate "debrowning event", as this color is of intense perp interest, and even after 13 years of intense vehicular gangstalking, they will only use a rare brown colored vehicle (0.5% or less). Though tan metallic brown colored vehicles are more common, say, 5% in a given day, often escorted by silver grey and white colored vehicles. They even use tan brown soil splattered vehicles sometimes, that is, tan brown soil (aka dirt) on a white vehicle. Then they modify the vehicle to have a white fabric canopy (matching the white painted steel body of the pickup truck), and also have the same tan brown splattered dirt on the canopy too. This happened today with two white vehicles behind it as a unsoiled color escort/color reference.
And too, one of the First Feral Family brothers had two prior colonoscopies, though it is of the kind that everything gets flushed out.
And it was major hot day today, the 36C temp (96.8F) is uncommon for June. Three years ago I was digging out my winter gear at this time of year as it was raining every other day, and with added cold winds.
And in my new-found (since 2010) ability to withstand hot temperatures, I was just fine outside, sensing it was like a warm oven, and not wilting or becoming mind numbed due to the heat. Everyone else was talking up how hot it was and unbearable it was, and that I best find jobs inside. I was fine, though I was sure to take some electrolytes in my water bottle. Formerly, I wilted at 26C and became functionally useless due to the heat. I suppose I have the perps to thank, and this "new feature" ranks highly along with the age regression to about 35 y.o or so, and keeping my hair and its original color. Not bad for being 60 y.o., though no Dorian Gray high living lifestyle, which might be a good thing.
A very wet morning this Tuesday after a rare Monday off, and too, yoga class yesterday evening. I went to work at 0700h, per normal routine, but was text-ed to come back at 0900h. It is a 10 minute commute, so it wasn't a big deal to come back and deal with the few loose ends from yesterday. A loose end was that my boots and socks were filled with grass darts, those seeds with the barbs on them that have the amazing ability to go 6" down from the boot top. The socks are worse, and I haven't taken them on yet, sensing that it is best done outside, or even, after laundering when there is likely to be fewer of them. Though, the trick is to isolate them in a mesh bag so they don't send darts into the rest of the laundry.
I went to a local viticulture supplier to get tying wire for tying down the shoots onto the trellis wires, and they were a tan brown color. I didn't think anything about it until a few days later (read on). I got a row finished with these new ties, as I had run out of the (darker) brown spool tying wire. And lo, if I didn't get a phone call to pack brown cardboard boxes of wine, or re-pack and assemble the order on two pallets. More "browning around" as I see it.
06-04-2015
As a member of the pallet packing crew of six today, I had plenty enough brown boxes to handle, pack into shipping boxes and also to break down the empty ones. I was a member of one of these events a few months ago, and there was considerable gangstalking to be on my tail or to wave fingers in my face etc. The gangstalking wasn't so aggressive as last time at this same location, but was plenty evident to me. I suppose this would be another case of brown boxstalking. Later I went to the vineyard to get tucking done, as many of the vines had fallen off the trellis wire and landed on the ground.
06-05-2015
Finally, I get to resume the tying down work at the vineyard mentioned above, and lo, if the perps didn't pull a shit stunt that I will refrain from detailing. I wasn't allowed to know I needed to take a crap, and only found out at the end of the day. Said shit color was identical to the tying wire I was using, and yet the clean up was much darker. And so goes this game of "browning around" in all its infamy.
Long time readers will know that the day of the apartment invasion when they first outed themselves as the berserk/overt gang, one of the perps in my apartment put an inflated balloon into the toilet as it was being flushed. And lo, if I didn't "forget", and the toilet got blocked for reason, and it was quite the effort to get it unplugged. And so began 10 years of blocked toilets, and the assholes only gave this one a rest in late 2011, only to resurrect this stunt at a shared house.
06-07-2015 Sunday
My daughter's 25th birthday today, and I was allowed to send a card and small gift that got there in time, the Friday before the weekend. And due to adversities on two home furnishing web sites, I could not get a gift card in time, so I sent her $100 via interbank transfer. As it "happened" she phoned just was I was sending her the money online. (Her voice mail box was full and I had sent her an email to wish her a happy birthday). Later, it became apparent that the internet transfer did not occur; no error messages or pending transactions.
So I sent her another transfer a few hours later, and lo, it got through. Like WTF; who keeps organizing these "coincidences" of an intended money transfer recipient who "happens" to phone me at that very instant, then blocks the transfer? Last year the perps wiped my recall as to which day her birthday was, and it would not be anything that would forget on my own.
06-08-2015
This is the eve of my impending colonoscopy and gastroscopy, and I am not to eat anything for two days. I call this the ultimate "debrowning event", as this color is of intense perp interest, and even after 13 years of intense vehicular gangstalking, they will only use a rare brown colored vehicle (0.5% or less). Though tan metallic brown colored vehicles are more common, say, 5% in a given day, often escorted by silver grey and white colored vehicles. They even use tan brown soil splattered vehicles sometimes, that is, tan brown soil (aka dirt) on a white vehicle. Then they modify the vehicle to have a white fabric canopy (matching the white painted steel body of the pickup truck), and also have the same tan brown splattered dirt on the canopy too. This happened today with two white vehicles behind it as a unsoiled color escort/color reference.
And too, one of the First Feral Family brothers had two prior colonoscopies, though it is of the kind that everything gets flushed out.
And it was major hot day today, the 36C temp (96.8F) is uncommon for June. Three years ago I was digging out my winter gear at this time of year as it was raining every other day, and with added cold winds.
And in my new-found (since 2010) ability to withstand hot temperatures, I was just fine outside, sensing it was like a warm oven, and not wilting or becoming mind numbed due to the heat. Everyone else was talking up how hot it was and unbearable it was, and that I best find jobs inside. I was fine, though I was sure to take some electrolytes in my water bottle. Formerly, I wilted at 26C and became functionally useless due to the heat. I suppose I have the perps to thank, and this "new feature" ranks highly along with the age regression to about 35 y.o or so, and keeping my hair and its original color. Not bad for being 60 y.o., though no Dorian Gray high living lifestyle, which might be a good thing.
Sunday, April 05, 2015
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.
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.
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.
Monday, March 02, 2015
T4 Obstruction
02-23-2015
For those not in Canada, a year end T4 slip may not mean much, but it is the equivalent to a W-2 for the IRS. It is an employer's statement of all earnings and deductions for the prior calendar year. One needs them to file an income tax return, even in this electronic age. Some of mine are paper, some are electronic. I was expecting a T4 from the Disability outfit as I paid nearly $16k back for income overpayment last year, which cleaned me out totally. (Am -$500 presently). That is to say, it would of reduced my taxable income by $16k, and therefore provide me a tax refund for that amount.
I read on the Disability outfit's website that overpayment statement get mailed (for some curious reason), and that the income T4 is available in electronic form. So why not a single net T4 slip then? Nope, too complicated I suppose, or else it didn't fit the TI victim harassment agenda. So, I look on my "account" as the Canadian federal government's Service Canada and see that they are retaining my address of 2012. Every time I try to update it, the page flips and says I cannot do it. So in dealing with the Disability outfit last year, I had them update it. Or so I thought. But no, they had my old address. I phone up the old address (a motel) and ask if any mail is there, and they reply in the affirmative. I get the mail after work and take it home, only to find a letter from Service Canada asking for the $16k which I already paid in person at the local (Penticton) Service Canada office, July 07, 2014 with a receipt too.
Here I thought I was going to get my tax return done this week and get a refund, but instead, I have to deal with these dullards who seem to be unaware that $16K was paid, and then convince them to hustle their bureaucratic ass to get me my rightful T4 slip before the tax return deadline of April 30. And it was a Monday in May 2014 when I found out that I owed $16k; another fine coincidence.
It is a Monday, the perps' special day when things go wrong, and I get to find this Fuckup presents a serious impasse to getting myself out of the financial hole that the perps so like to keep me in. Then onto yoga, with the darling pixie instructor.
But yoga wasn't quite the same; first the perps seemed to have created a shit smell coming off me, one that erupted within a minute of exiting the shower. Then the dudes (male class members) were put on in relative force; the Major Fat Boy arrived on my R side for the very first time, he doing his wheezing and gasping thing in his loathsome shorts below his knee. Another semi-regular dude was on my L side for the very first time, as normally his is at least 4 mats away at the back of the practice room. Then two additional new dudes arrived in the usual "dude rows" at the back, one fuzzy haired freak in shorts. So it would seem that the perps are embarking on some kind of new dude-dude interaction; the semi-regular dudes on either side of me is new, and two new ones in the section where they put the semi-regulars for the last two years. Major Fat Boy excepted, as he started about three months ago on my L side doing his wheezing - gasping act. I had every intention to leave if the Major Fat Boy came close enough to hear his heavy breathing act, and "somehow" I failed to act on it. Funny how that "happens".
And most of the some 12 or so women were regulars, though some new-to-me ones.
And lo, if at yoga we weren't doing many different kinds of binds, where we reach past our ass and ... you get the picture. Thankfully, most of the shit sensations were planted, not of real origin, but I didn't know that then, only when I got back and had yet another shower to clean up. And I resolve to not go to yoga any more for all the insane hi-jinx that go on, and instead go to the gym. All that resolve will be mind-fucked from me, as they have yet again, stopped my gym visits when I was getting into 3x per week routine that I even saw some weight loss benefits showing up, as well as feeling better. So much for that. Even if I made it to the gym, the perps can make one feel winded and weak and not get much exercising done. Been there, had it done to me countless times.
02-24-2015
Pruning vines all day with the background vehicular traffic noise at almost an unbearable din level; the dudes in pickups with noisy gurgling hot-rod like mufflers were out in force, and with time on their hands. Driving N bound, and then coming back S bound within 5 minutes spells extra obvious vehicular gangstalking to me, not to mention them stomping on the accelerator in both directions to bring on yet more noise.
I ended up dealing with the bureaucracy over T4's again, though was pleasant experience, no resolution, "cannot find the records".... etc. I was able so supply all the details of payment date, receipt number, etc. so hopefully that can be resolved. (Or just plain ended, as who knows how this skit was arranged).
The last time I had a call with the same bureaucracy, the woman got quite agitated for no seeming reason. The perps just love this; stirring up people for no seeming reason.
The landlord was in my place today, no prior notice; at least the second time he has done this. but at least he didn't leave a plaster mess like last time. He got to see my "Jawhorse" set up in the kitchen area with the Dremel rotary tool nearby. I use the latter for pruner blade sharpening and for the very first time ever, I set this up in the morning and lo, if I didn't get pressed for time and leave it set up. Funny how those "coincidences" just line up all the time.
02-24-2015
Doing battonage work in the winery this morning; that is the fancy work for stirring the sediment in the barrels. It gets done once per week and imparts a creamy and buttery sensation to the wine, whites only usually. When 12' high on a ladder, the perps have every opportunity so screw one senseless, and up the anxiety level (= Fear, of FUD, Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt).
The when out pruning, vehicular traffic noise on Naramata Road was amplified up, along with extra traffic it would seem. Having three excavators digging in the neighborhood is doubtless part of the perp experiment abuse show, though to me it is just more additional noise. Have I mentioned the perps go crazy over displaying soils, their colors and go as far as arranging dirt splattered vehicles around me all the time? And it is high dirt season, wintertime in snowy climes, and ski hills around too.
The entire winery crew is away tomorrow and next day, and as I don't have keys to the winery, I must take the Electrocoupe home with me. A 30"x18" plastic red box with white foam in it for the tools and charger, and the red vest with the battery pack, as well as the electric pruner. I took Electrocoupe home which begat extra fore and aft vehicular gangstalking
And no small matter, the Electrocoupe has a 2.4kg battery pack that fits around my waist for all of the pruning activity. And we know who likes to plant batteries (an unresolved dipole) around their selected victims. That it is in a red vest is also significant, as the perps never let me wear red. Only gangstalkers can wear red, in their ever frequent choreography of entrances and exits.
Speaking of red, the color is becoming more frequent. For example, the perps making my face go red after work; a little early in the year for sun effects, and too, it gets worse when I am indoors. They put this on two days ago for yoga after work, and seemingly they need some red-red testing between me and the Electrocoupe case and vest.
Plenty of screaming at the assholes tonight; they ran a sharp knife into my hand, they blocked the toilet for the first time in over six months,(extremely rare to have two shits in one day, more like one every four to six days), they dropped items from my hand, dumped salt I was applying to my dinner plate onto the stove top... and on and on.
02-26-2015
On vineyard pruning all day; all of the staff (5) are away today and tomorrow for the big wine show of the year, the Vancouver Wine Festival, a money spinner for the Vancouver Art Gallery. So... I am locked out of the winery, the warm location where I usually have my lunch, as they haven't cut me a new key set yet. Not a big deal, as I have sat in my vehicle for lunch time on other vineyard gigs. Though, the pattern of all owners/employees fleeing the site while I work there alone isn't new, as this same routine "happened" often with the owners of the past vineyard I worked at.
The Naramata Road (adjacent to the vineyard) traffic noise is louder it seems today, and it wasn't just the four included motorcycles today, arriving two weeks earlier than last year. And the peps know how much I loathe the infernal HD noise. So... what do they do? Why have the same motorcycle/rider pass by N bound, then S bound four minutes later, and then return N bound to take a nearby orthogonal turn off road W bound and then return two minutes later E bound to then turn S bound for the second time. I cannot conceive of a reason why a motorcycle driver and passenger would be so pointless and frenetic on a chilly day in late Feburary, except given an incentive to make the freaking HD noise in the noisescape of this TI victim, all arranged in advance. I still have no idea as to why the perps are berserk over motorcycle noise and the whole leathers dress schtick that goes with it.
As usual, plenty of perp orchestrated hassles; having the pruners cut the trellis wire (twice), and have the pruners contact the trellis wire to hack up the just-sharpened blade (at least 8x). Sometimes they will even have me look at my fingers in their control and contact or break the trellis wire while looking at it happen, ensuring that I am totally clued out, when it would be last most notion I would have if I was in full and sole command of my faculties. Other times, I don't even see how the trellis wire was contacted/broken as I don't even see the wire and only become aware after making the pruning cut from the different noise a wire contact/break makes.
Finshed cleaning up to toilet this evening; the shot of bleach and some wait time seems to work, though it did threaten to overflow though a small bucketful scooped off the top and transferred to the shower drain avoided that potentially messy outcome. And too, for the prior 24 hours, the wait time, the perps had me pissing directly into the shower, something of interest to them as part of this exercise.
This would be the first blocked toilet in 6 months or so, and regular readers will know it occurred 95% of the time from 2002 when they first struck overtly to end of 2011. In a shared house in 2012 they restarted their shit games, and once out of there, it was diminshed. I reckon toilet blocking games are going to "happen" at my new worksite, just as they did at the last one. And too, walking over the septic field, unknowingly usually, is always a perp interest.
Other aspects of the "browning around" are the band-aid on my L thumb they cut with a knife, per above. And too, the color of the band-aid changes according to the ambient lighting conditions; it goes a curious straw color in daylight, and darker brown in incandescent light. I suspect the assholes cannot yet duplicate my native brown color detection/reception, as in retinal sensitivity, and are messing with my ability to receive this color. Reds and yellows may also be giving the perps similar problems given the heavy emphasis of these colors, often in combination.
A call from the Disability people about my overpayment yesterday; it was the weirdest thing, an apparently speech disabled person was using an intermediary, a telephone "operator", to translate the seeming keyboard output into speech. I suspect they could hear what I was saying, but the operator did the "translation" from text to speech for me to hear. And, as always, nothing is a coincidence, nor even happen-chance in this highly controlled and manipulated existence I live in. Sooo... I suspect that the perps wanted to separate the voice/response from the originator (the speech disabled person from the Disability department), from the operator who translated it. The fact that my voice will change over the duration of a half hour phone call isn't new, and it would be the perps attempting some kind of continuity fuckery of a similar vein.
And was this the ultimate purpose of the Disability repayment fuckover stunt? Regular readers of 2014 will know I had to pay back $16k of benefits, and my daughter some $1800 (paid by me), back in May 2014. I paid it back in July 07, and got a reciept for it, and they finally cashed the check some three weeks later. Then, as mentioned above, I expect to get a T4, but instead, I find that they are still asking me for the money. Finally, (I hope), this fuck up is over, and they also sort out my daughter's too (like I asked) them today over the phone. It is insane to be put through financial penury and to then get my financial transactions sabotaged for 8 months. What is the matter with the perps that they must sabotage everything I do, especially finances?
02-27-2015
The last day of February, work days that is. Spent pruning vines in the vineyard. It got cold in the morning so I drove back into town, a 10 min. commute for a hot lunch and to get long underwear on and my ski jacket that has a snow skirt on the inside to stop drafts from blowing my my spine, as with the shorter jacket. And getting a long enough jacket to cover my ass and not ride up when bending over is a HUGE deal, as the perps so like to exploit these opportunities to run cool air inside my garments. I also got my Baffin Minus 100 boots on, good for 100C below zero. The perps like to chill selective portions of me down go guide my clothing choices and changes.
Another "per usual" day of pruning vines; the punishing roadside traffic noise, the constant background hum of 1km distant excavators (3) plus skid-steer loaders, and sheep, dogs and other animals adding their bit. Then the pruning itself; the assholes still won't let me take the electric shears/pruners to the vine and cut it; no... sir, not allowed. Instead they guide the pruners to be above or below or where I want to cut, or else guide them so the lower jaw, and not the shear to the cutting position. All to force me to relocate the pruner to the very location I wish to cut. That is if they don't jiggle the pruner while in mid-cut and have it not cut where I wished. Which is the epitome of this insane abuse-athon I am cast into. Read on.
Back in 2002, among other affronts, they run me out of an IT job, to no permitted job, but instead this "disability". Only in 2008 did they allow me to do farm work to get me out of the spending hole they also imposed. Things move along like this until 2012 when they let me move to the Okanagan Valley and attend three months of viticulture (grape vine tending) class. So I manage to get some jobs for longer term employment, and includes wielding hand pruners in this over-vigorous vineyard for 2.5 years. Now we are closing in on three years of viticulture work, and the assholes won't let me place a pair of pruning shear where I want, but instead mess with me at every cut and have me "miss" where to place them. Think of that; coming on 13 years of this insane abuse, now rendered down to vineyard worker, and they won't let me place a pair of pruners, tools of the trade, where I want. I make perhaps high hundreds or maybe 1 to 2K cuts in a day, and they see it as their job to mess me around on every one, all day long on these and similar tasks. Talk about insanity gone amok gone, anal retentive; the perps have this in spades and yet continue to inflict me with this aberrant and sick mindset for 13 years nearly, and counting.
And it doesn't end there for pruning obstruction either; they had me cut two trellis wires today and ran the electric pruners into the trellis wires at least 10x today, creating yet another sharpening job, now every night of the week. Just a typical day of pruning where my finger movements aren't my own.
02-28-2015
A dude clusterfuck at the laundromat, including Camaro Man who followed my pattern of late morning-early afternoon visits to early morning (about 0930h). Camaro Man steps up right behind me when I exited the washroom. Which meant that he was in the adjacent washroom and "happened" to exit the same time as me, and follows me on my heels just about. He had his head down pretending he didn't notice; normal (pre-overt harassment) would stop and say "excuse me", but as there has been a universal near abandonment of manners in my proximity it doesn't happen. I turn around to face the asshole, and he takes a L turn, still with head down and pretending not to notice I was pissed (metaphorically). The other dipshit in red stood still to constrict egress, and the laundromat manager was in on it too.
Then another clusterfuck at Wrs, a discount chain where I went to get nail laquer to seal the felt pen wring on the side of my diamond honing stones. I had to ask for help as I don't know nail polish from skin polish, and a tall-as-me young woman in brown-red dyed hair "helped", as in messed around with three identical little boxes, and made out she was looking for something else when nothing more was there.
Then the perps had me purchase a small frypan, which was what was going to put back but then a rush of gangstalkers came on and I scooted to the front till with both items, with a duffer-dude on parallel faux shopping to obstruct my path (artfully waddling in parallel) and then a tattoo-ed big girl had her buggy with child in it also obstructed my path to the available checkout. The cashier was at least friendly and made a comment about the frypan, and finished with a forced grin that became a grimmace. Don't worry about acting dear, I see these strange looks of imminent peril/scaredness all the time.
Before I set off from the parking lot into Wrs I get this dude in a lime green T-shirt some 20' away heading to his vehicle. The assumption was that he had finished shopping and was going to depart. Not a bit of if, he drops something off in his vehicle and then lead-ahead stalks me into Wrs. Talk about obvious stalking, the assholes were going a little silly today.
03-02-2015
Skipping Sunday, but am getting this posted ASAP.
For those not in Canada, a year end T4 slip may not mean much, but it is the equivalent to a W-2 for the IRS. It is an employer's statement of all earnings and deductions for the prior calendar year. One needs them to file an income tax return, even in this electronic age. Some of mine are paper, some are electronic. I was expecting a T4 from the Disability outfit as I paid nearly $16k back for income overpayment last year, which cleaned me out totally. (Am -$500 presently). That is to say, it would of reduced my taxable income by $16k, and therefore provide me a tax refund for that amount.
I read on the Disability outfit's website that overpayment statement get mailed (for some curious reason), and that the income T4 is available in electronic form. So why not a single net T4 slip then? Nope, too complicated I suppose, or else it didn't fit the TI victim harassment agenda. So, I look on my "account" as the Canadian federal government's Service Canada and see that they are retaining my address of 2012. Every time I try to update it, the page flips and says I cannot do it. So in dealing with the Disability outfit last year, I had them update it. Or so I thought. But no, they had my old address. I phone up the old address (a motel) and ask if any mail is there, and they reply in the affirmative. I get the mail after work and take it home, only to find a letter from Service Canada asking for the $16k which I already paid in person at the local (Penticton) Service Canada office, July 07, 2014 with a receipt too.
Here I thought I was going to get my tax return done this week and get a refund, but instead, I have to deal with these dullards who seem to be unaware that $16K was paid, and then convince them to hustle their bureaucratic ass to get me my rightful T4 slip before the tax return deadline of April 30. And it was a Monday in May 2014 when I found out that I owed $16k; another fine coincidence.
It is a Monday, the perps' special day when things go wrong, and I get to find this Fuckup presents a serious impasse to getting myself out of the financial hole that the perps so like to keep me in. Then onto yoga, with the darling pixie instructor.
But yoga wasn't quite the same; first the perps seemed to have created a shit smell coming off me, one that erupted within a minute of exiting the shower. Then the dudes (male class members) were put on in relative force; the Major Fat Boy arrived on my R side for the very first time, he doing his wheezing and gasping thing in his loathsome shorts below his knee. Another semi-regular dude was on my L side for the very first time, as normally his is at least 4 mats away at the back of the practice room. Then two additional new dudes arrived in the usual "dude rows" at the back, one fuzzy haired freak in shorts. So it would seem that the perps are embarking on some kind of new dude-dude interaction; the semi-regular dudes on either side of me is new, and two new ones in the section where they put the semi-regulars for the last two years. Major Fat Boy excepted, as he started about three months ago on my L side doing his wheezing - gasping act. I had every intention to leave if the Major Fat Boy came close enough to hear his heavy breathing act, and "somehow" I failed to act on it. Funny how that "happens".
And most of the some 12 or so women were regulars, though some new-to-me ones.
And lo, if at yoga we weren't doing many different kinds of binds, where we reach past our ass and ... you get the picture. Thankfully, most of the shit sensations were planted, not of real origin, but I didn't know that then, only when I got back and had yet another shower to clean up. And I resolve to not go to yoga any more for all the insane hi-jinx that go on, and instead go to the gym. All that resolve will be mind-fucked from me, as they have yet again, stopped my gym visits when I was getting into 3x per week routine that I even saw some weight loss benefits showing up, as well as feeling better. So much for that. Even if I made it to the gym, the perps can make one feel winded and weak and not get much exercising done. Been there, had it done to me countless times.
02-24-2015
Pruning vines all day with the background vehicular traffic noise at almost an unbearable din level; the dudes in pickups with noisy gurgling hot-rod like mufflers were out in force, and with time on their hands. Driving N bound, and then coming back S bound within 5 minutes spells extra obvious vehicular gangstalking to me, not to mention them stomping on the accelerator in both directions to bring on yet more noise.
I ended up dealing with the bureaucracy over T4's again, though was pleasant experience, no resolution, "cannot find the records".... etc. I was able so supply all the details of payment date, receipt number, etc. so hopefully that can be resolved. (Or just plain ended, as who knows how this skit was arranged).
The last time I had a call with the same bureaucracy, the woman got quite agitated for no seeming reason. The perps just love this; stirring up people for no seeming reason.
The landlord was in my place today, no prior notice; at least the second time he has done this. but at least he didn't leave a plaster mess like last time. He got to see my "Jawhorse" set up in the kitchen area with the Dremel rotary tool nearby. I use the latter for pruner blade sharpening and for the very first time ever, I set this up in the morning and lo, if I didn't get pressed for time and leave it set up. Funny how those "coincidences" just line up all the time.
02-24-2015
Doing battonage work in the winery this morning; that is the fancy work for stirring the sediment in the barrels. It gets done once per week and imparts a creamy and buttery sensation to the wine, whites only usually. When 12' high on a ladder, the perps have every opportunity so screw one senseless, and up the anxiety level (= Fear, of FUD, Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt).
The when out pruning, vehicular traffic noise on Naramata Road was amplified up, along with extra traffic it would seem. Having three excavators digging in the neighborhood is doubtless part of the perp experiment abuse show, though to me it is just more additional noise. Have I mentioned the perps go crazy over displaying soils, their colors and go as far as arranging dirt splattered vehicles around me all the time? And it is high dirt season, wintertime in snowy climes, and ski hills around too.
The entire winery crew is away tomorrow and next day, and as I don't have keys to the winery, I must take the Electrocoupe home with me. A 30"x18" plastic red box with white foam in it for the tools and charger, and the red vest with the battery pack, as well as the electric pruner. I took Electrocoupe home which begat extra fore and aft vehicular gangstalking
And no small matter, the Electrocoupe has a 2.4kg battery pack that fits around my waist for all of the pruning activity. And we know who likes to plant batteries (an unresolved dipole) around their selected victims. That it is in a red vest is also significant, as the perps never let me wear red. Only gangstalkers can wear red, in their ever frequent choreography of entrances and exits.
Speaking of red, the color is becoming more frequent. For example, the perps making my face go red after work; a little early in the year for sun effects, and too, it gets worse when I am indoors. They put this on two days ago for yoga after work, and seemingly they need some red-red testing between me and the Electrocoupe case and vest.
Plenty of screaming at the assholes tonight; they ran a sharp knife into my hand, they blocked the toilet for the first time in over six months,(extremely rare to have two shits in one day, more like one every four to six days), they dropped items from my hand, dumped salt I was applying to my dinner plate onto the stove top... and on and on.
02-26-2015
On vineyard pruning all day; all of the staff (5) are away today and tomorrow for the big wine show of the year, the Vancouver Wine Festival, a money spinner for the Vancouver Art Gallery. So... I am locked out of the winery, the warm location where I usually have my lunch, as they haven't cut me a new key set yet. Not a big deal, as I have sat in my vehicle for lunch time on other vineyard gigs. Though, the pattern of all owners/employees fleeing the site while I work there alone isn't new, as this same routine "happened" often with the owners of the past vineyard I worked at.
The Naramata Road (adjacent to the vineyard) traffic noise is louder it seems today, and it wasn't just the four included motorcycles today, arriving two weeks earlier than last year. And the peps know how much I loathe the infernal HD noise. So... what do they do? Why have the same motorcycle/rider pass by N bound, then S bound four minutes later, and then return N bound to take a nearby orthogonal turn off road W bound and then return two minutes later E bound to then turn S bound for the second time. I cannot conceive of a reason why a motorcycle driver and passenger would be so pointless and frenetic on a chilly day in late Feburary, except given an incentive to make the freaking HD noise in the noisescape of this TI victim, all arranged in advance. I still have no idea as to why the perps are berserk over motorcycle noise and the whole leathers dress schtick that goes with it.
As usual, plenty of perp orchestrated hassles; having the pruners cut the trellis wire (twice), and have the pruners contact the trellis wire to hack up the just-sharpened blade (at least 8x). Sometimes they will even have me look at my fingers in their control and contact or break the trellis wire while looking at it happen, ensuring that I am totally clued out, when it would be last most notion I would have if I was in full and sole command of my faculties. Other times, I don't even see how the trellis wire was contacted/broken as I don't even see the wire and only become aware after making the pruning cut from the different noise a wire contact/break makes.
Finshed cleaning up to toilet this evening; the shot of bleach and some wait time seems to work, though it did threaten to overflow though a small bucketful scooped off the top and transferred to the shower drain avoided that potentially messy outcome. And too, for the prior 24 hours, the wait time, the perps had me pissing directly into the shower, something of interest to them as part of this exercise.
This would be the first blocked toilet in 6 months or so, and regular readers will know it occurred 95% of the time from 2002 when they first struck overtly to end of 2011. In a shared house in 2012 they restarted their shit games, and once out of there, it was diminshed. I reckon toilet blocking games are going to "happen" at my new worksite, just as they did at the last one. And too, walking over the septic field, unknowingly usually, is always a perp interest.
Other aspects of the "browning around" are the band-aid on my L thumb they cut with a knife, per above. And too, the color of the band-aid changes according to the ambient lighting conditions; it goes a curious straw color in daylight, and darker brown in incandescent light. I suspect the assholes cannot yet duplicate my native brown color detection/reception, as in retinal sensitivity, and are messing with my ability to receive this color. Reds and yellows may also be giving the perps similar problems given the heavy emphasis of these colors, often in combination.
A call from the Disability people about my overpayment yesterday; it was the weirdest thing, an apparently speech disabled person was using an intermediary, a telephone "operator", to translate the seeming keyboard output into speech. I suspect they could hear what I was saying, but the operator did the "translation" from text to speech for me to hear. And, as always, nothing is a coincidence, nor even happen-chance in this highly controlled and manipulated existence I live in. Sooo... I suspect that the perps wanted to separate the voice/response from the originator (the speech disabled person from the Disability department), from the operator who translated it. The fact that my voice will change over the duration of a half hour phone call isn't new, and it would be the perps attempting some kind of continuity fuckery of a similar vein.
And was this the ultimate purpose of the Disability repayment fuckover stunt? Regular readers of 2014 will know I had to pay back $16k of benefits, and my daughter some $1800 (paid by me), back in May 2014. I paid it back in July 07, and got a reciept for it, and they finally cashed the check some three weeks later. Then, as mentioned above, I expect to get a T4, but instead, I find that they are still asking me for the money. Finally, (I hope), this fuck up is over, and they also sort out my daughter's too (like I asked) them today over the phone. It is insane to be put through financial penury and to then get my financial transactions sabotaged for 8 months. What is the matter with the perps that they must sabotage everything I do, especially finances?
02-27-2015
The last day of February, work days that is. Spent pruning vines in the vineyard. It got cold in the morning so I drove back into town, a 10 min. commute for a hot lunch and to get long underwear on and my ski jacket that has a snow skirt on the inside to stop drafts from blowing my my spine, as with the shorter jacket. And getting a long enough jacket to cover my ass and not ride up when bending over is a HUGE deal, as the perps so like to exploit these opportunities to run cool air inside my garments. I also got my Baffin Minus 100 boots on, good for 100C below zero. The perps like to chill selective portions of me down go guide my clothing choices and changes.
Another "per usual" day of pruning vines; the punishing roadside traffic noise, the constant background hum of 1km distant excavators (3) plus skid-steer loaders, and sheep, dogs and other animals adding their bit. Then the pruning itself; the assholes still won't let me take the electric shears/pruners to the vine and cut it; no... sir, not allowed. Instead they guide the pruners to be above or below or where I want to cut, or else guide them so the lower jaw, and not the shear to the cutting position. All to force me to relocate the pruner to the very location I wish to cut. That is if they don't jiggle the pruner while in mid-cut and have it not cut where I wished. Which is the epitome of this insane abuse-athon I am cast into. Read on.
Back in 2002, among other affronts, they run me out of an IT job, to no permitted job, but instead this "disability". Only in 2008 did they allow me to do farm work to get me out of the spending hole they also imposed. Things move along like this until 2012 when they let me move to the Okanagan Valley and attend three months of viticulture (grape vine tending) class. So I manage to get some jobs for longer term employment, and includes wielding hand pruners in this over-vigorous vineyard for 2.5 years. Now we are closing in on three years of viticulture work, and the assholes won't let me place a pair of pruning shear where I want, but instead mess with me at every cut and have me "miss" where to place them. Think of that; coming on 13 years of this insane abuse, now rendered down to vineyard worker, and they won't let me place a pair of pruners, tools of the trade, where I want. I make perhaps high hundreds or maybe 1 to 2K cuts in a day, and they see it as their job to mess me around on every one, all day long on these and similar tasks. Talk about insanity gone amok gone, anal retentive; the perps have this in spades and yet continue to inflict me with this aberrant and sick mindset for 13 years nearly, and counting.
And it doesn't end there for pruning obstruction either; they had me cut two trellis wires today and ran the electric pruners into the trellis wires at least 10x today, creating yet another sharpening job, now every night of the week. Just a typical day of pruning where my finger movements aren't my own.
02-28-2015
A dude clusterfuck at the laundromat, including Camaro Man who followed my pattern of late morning-early afternoon visits to early morning (about 0930h). Camaro Man steps up right behind me when I exited the washroom. Which meant that he was in the adjacent washroom and "happened" to exit the same time as me, and follows me on my heels just about. He had his head down pretending he didn't notice; normal (pre-overt harassment) would stop and say "excuse me", but as there has been a universal near abandonment of manners in my proximity it doesn't happen. I turn around to face the asshole, and he takes a L turn, still with head down and pretending not to notice I was pissed (metaphorically). The other dipshit in red stood still to constrict egress, and the laundromat manager was in on it too.
Then another clusterfuck at Wrs, a discount chain where I went to get nail laquer to seal the felt pen wring on the side of my diamond honing stones. I had to ask for help as I don't know nail polish from skin polish, and a tall-as-me young woman in brown-red dyed hair "helped", as in messed around with three identical little boxes, and made out she was looking for something else when nothing more was there.
Then the perps had me purchase a small frypan, which was what was going to put back but then a rush of gangstalkers came on and I scooted to the front till with both items, with a duffer-dude on parallel faux shopping to obstruct my path (artfully waddling in parallel) and then a tattoo-ed big girl had her buggy with child in it also obstructed my path to the available checkout. The cashier was at least friendly and made a comment about the frypan, and finished with a forced grin that became a grimmace. Don't worry about acting dear, I see these strange looks of imminent peril/scaredness all the time.
Before I set off from the parking lot into Wrs I get this dude in a lime green T-shirt some 20' away heading to his vehicle. The assumption was that he had finished shopping and was going to depart. Not a bit of if, he drops something off in his vehicle and then lead-ahead stalks me into Wrs. Talk about obvious stalking, the assholes were going a little silly today.
03-02-2015
Skipping Sunday, but am getting this posted ASAP.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Cellar Work
02-10-2015
Tuesday, like a Monday, the first day of getting back to work after a long weekend. (Yesterday was BC Family Day). The perps like these kind of disruptions, not the least being to screw me out of regular Monday yoga, as there was none due to the holiday.
And lo, if the urination urgency didn't subside today, though having no coffee in the morning helped, and perhaps another is a certain supplement might be now working. The urologist's office was useless; go see your GP they said. Thanks a bunch.
I was put on cellar work in the afternoon, using a special stirring device to put into the barrel bung hole and scrape the bottom of if to stir up the sediment. Called "battonage" in winemaking, as it confers buttery flavors if done for long enough, say, 1x/week for three or more months.
Then onto pressure washing, as the perps like to sabotage my efforts in this respect, going by past events reported in this blog. But now that this winery has other employees, unlike the last one, all these things going wrong, like hose leaks, might be curtailed somewhat. No blocked toilets at the new work site yet, but this might evolve slowly like past employers/worksites.
I was also dumping red wine sediment, packing it in buckets to dump on the burn pile. Which is where a gate is left open so the deer and elk can pass through. Naturally, this area is fraught with their droppings, but most curiously, there is cattle dung there too. And this is a vineyard, so I don't know how the latter got there at all, save some shit-disturbing outfit planting their very favorite prop in my proximity.
On the financial harassment front, I see that I got four charges on my charge card that were not mine; over $7k total no less. At first I submitted my complaint online, but as I didn't hear anything back for a half day, I phoned the charge card company. I then find out that my charge card was on "fraud watch" status, whatever that means. A good thing I phoned them up to find that out as they didn't tell me for crissakes. what were they expecting; me to pay the tab and then my card would revert to normal status? All the charges were on the same day and three of them were for the same amount and a fourth one some $20 different. All for the same "merchant", located in France for crissakes. Hmm; who coughed up my credit card details? Was it that site that sells flac file albums that shifted from China, to Russia and then the UK?
Ever kept as an audiophile wantabee, I swear that listening off a USB stick sounds better than files off a computer with rotational discs; this is using the same DAC/deck (OPPO player) in each case. This "discovery" will no doubt launch many hours online for looking for the ideal audiophile server/storage device. Read, ridiculously expensive computer.
And who designed it such that no automotive player decks play flac (non lossy music) files? I load up a USB stick with 16Gb of music in flac format and the automotive player won't play them. Not too much of a surprise, but "somehow" I forgot about this a year after the player deck was installed.
12-02-2015
A day of "browning around" games; I found some shit stuck in my ass discovered in the morning shower that totally grossed me out.
Then when I arrive home after work, I discover by way of underwear packed onto my ass another "brown stunt". This brought on a mid-week visit to the laundromat, to the unmanned one I frequented from 2013 to mid-2014. That meant a shower to clean up and then take my underwear (all the week's) to the laundromat to clean them all up. For some strange reason it went on cold cycle and I couldn't change it. When I was waiting for the last few minutes by the washing machine, a male ball-capped stalker arrived, first by keeping his headlights on and beaming into the laundromat all the while waiting and then collecting and then exiting the premiises.
I also drove across town to go to the walkin clinic but got there after 1700, and were closed.
I went to the adjacent LD store and was gangstalked to the gills; a permanent gangstalker post beside the chocolate section for the three times that I attempted in 10 min. and gave up and exited not having bought anything. And there they were, loitering near the exit to the mall.
14-02-2015
Nothing much in the way of Valentine's for me via the perps. They like to have me disaffected for big cultural events, from football (Superbowl), to Stanley Cup finals, World Soccer Cup finals and cultural days such as this. Back in the intense gangstalk and pursuit brutality of 2002, they even had me sleeping in my vehicle over Christmas day for crissakes. Which was aided and abetted by the criminal First Feral Family scum and the antagonistic Ms. C. Such fine company I get stiffed with.
A visit to the doctor was finally concluded; he of the scared shitless camp, now doing smirk duty. Last time I saw him he was doing crotch display duty, yet another clue that sexual harassment might of been part of the perp's abuse regimen in the memory deleted years, aged 2 to 5 y.o, (1956 to 59).
Visiting the doctor is in aid of getting my testosterone tested, and if supplemented, maybe this urinary urgency abuse I am constantly cast into will finally end.
The medical office assistant was kind and helpful, and when I finished with the doctor, he told me to get a form from the desk. Well, she wasn't there, and so I waited. But as it "happened" two other women were waiting and were similarly looking to the medical office assistant. As in one twin sister and one elder sister. (Or else the medical office assistant was stunting me by waiting at the counter instead of serving from behind it.) Anyhow, this was all too weird that family shows up a the doctor's office to loiter in my presence, and so I went to the adjacent LD gangstalking store, got some items and returned to the doctor's office. The medical office assistant was back behind the counter and printed off the form I needed. I see three shiftless males loitering outside, one sucking butt (a cigarette). All were acting independently, but as soon as I exited they each got the call to then head to the doctor's office. Like WTF; let's make it obvious and have three Fuckwits suddenly and simultaneously abandon their ridiculous pacing about and file into the doctor's office.
I did my laundry afterward, always a big perp deal,and got stiffed with "forgetting" some items, ones that I launder once every week. How this "forget" happened is nothing I can account for.
02-15-2015
Sunday, a shut-in day for some reason, even if the weather is inviting outside.
A big time waster is having me look ridiculously expensive hi-fi audio gear, as I don't have the scratch to afford any of it, even if better gear is substantially cheaper nowadays. Like $5,500 for a dedicated PC for audio listening, with separate AC cleaning, and power supply, no PCI boards and a SSD storage. Yes, this addressed current pissing match in getting music files to play through the OPPO's headphone jack is a pain in the ass, as it was supposed to be driven from the OPPO to find the NAS file copies instead, taking the load off the Windows PC. I have found that having a wholly separate and dedicated audio gear is better than having a PC provide the files. But that didn't happen, owing to the clunky OPPO interface and then the NAS support did not include flac files, my mainstay file format.
Anyhow, the above is likely dull material for most of my readership, and I generally keep the technical pissing matches off-blog.
Tuesday, like a Monday, the first day of getting back to work after a long weekend. (Yesterday was BC Family Day). The perps like these kind of disruptions, not the least being to screw me out of regular Monday yoga, as there was none due to the holiday.
And lo, if the urination urgency didn't subside today, though having no coffee in the morning helped, and perhaps another is a certain supplement might be now working. The urologist's office was useless; go see your GP they said. Thanks a bunch.
I was put on cellar work in the afternoon, using a special stirring device to put into the barrel bung hole and scrape the bottom of if to stir up the sediment. Called "battonage" in winemaking, as it confers buttery flavors if done for long enough, say, 1x/week for three or more months.
Then onto pressure washing, as the perps like to sabotage my efforts in this respect, going by past events reported in this blog. But now that this winery has other employees, unlike the last one, all these things going wrong, like hose leaks, might be curtailed somewhat. No blocked toilets at the new work site yet, but this might evolve slowly like past employers/worksites.
I was also dumping red wine sediment, packing it in buckets to dump on the burn pile. Which is where a gate is left open so the deer and elk can pass through. Naturally, this area is fraught with their droppings, but most curiously, there is cattle dung there too. And this is a vineyard, so I don't know how the latter got there at all, save some shit-disturbing outfit planting their very favorite prop in my proximity.
On the financial harassment front, I see that I got four charges on my charge card that were not mine; over $7k total no less. At first I submitted my complaint online, but as I didn't hear anything back for a half day, I phoned the charge card company. I then find out that my charge card was on "fraud watch" status, whatever that means. A good thing I phoned them up to find that out as they didn't tell me for crissakes. what were they expecting; me to pay the tab and then my card would revert to normal status? All the charges were on the same day and three of them were for the same amount and a fourth one some $20 different. All for the same "merchant", located in France for crissakes. Hmm; who coughed up my credit card details? Was it that site that sells flac file albums that shifted from China, to Russia and then the UK?
Ever kept as an audiophile wantabee, I swear that listening off a USB stick sounds better than files off a computer with rotational discs; this is using the same DAC/deck (OPPO player) in each case. This "discovery" will no doubt launch many hours online for looking for the ideal audiophile server/storage device. Read, ridiculously expensive computer.
And who designed it such that no automotive player decks play flac (non lossy music) files? I load up a USB stick with 16Gb of music in flac format and the automotive player won't play them. Not too much of a surprise, but "somehow" I forgot about this a year after the player deck was installed.
12-02-2015
A day of "browning around" games; I found some shit stuck in my ass discovered in the morning shower that totally grossed me out.
Then when I arrive home after work, I discover by way of underwear packed onto my ass another "brown stunt". This brought on a mid-week visit to the laundromat, to the unmanned one I frequented from 2013 to mid-2014. That meant a shower to clean up and then take my underwear (all the week's) to the laundromat to clean them all up. For some strange reason it went on cold cycle and I couldn't change it. When I was waiting for the last few minutes by the washing machine, a male ball-capped stalker arrived, first by keeping his headlights on and beaming into the laundromat all the while waiting and then collecting and then exiting the premiises.
I also drove across town to go to the walkin clinic but got there after 1700, and were closed.
I went to the adjacent LD store and was gangstalked to the gills; a permanent gangstalker post beside the chocolate section for the three times that I attempted in 10 min. and gave up and exited not having bought anything. And there they were, loitering near the exit to the mall.
14-02-2015
Nothing much in the way of Valentine's for me via the perps. They like to have me disaffected for big cultural events, from football (Superbowl), to Stanley Cup finals, World Soccer Cup finals and cultural days such as this. Back in the intense gangstalk and pursuit brutality of 2002, they even had me sleeping in my vehicle over Christmas day for crissakes. Which was aided and abetted by the criminal First Feral Family scum and the antagonistic Ms. C. Such fine company I get stiffed with.
A visit to the doctor was finally concluded; he of the scared shitless camp, now doing smirk duty. Last time I saw him he was doing crotch display duty, yet another clue that sexual harassment might of been part of the perp's abuse regimen in the memory deleted years, aged 2 to 5 y.o, (1956 to 59).
Visiting the doctor is in aid of getting my testosterone tested, and if supplemented, maybe this urinary urgency abuse I am constantly cast into will finally end.
The medical office assistant was kind and helpful, and when I finished with the doctor, he told me to get a form from the desk. Well, she wasn't there, and so I waited. But as it "happened" two other women were waiting and were similarly looking to the medical office assistant. As in one twin sister and one elder sister. (Or else the medical office assistant was stunting me by waiting at the counter instead of serving from behind it.) Anyhow, this was all too weird that family shows up a the doctor's office to loiter in my presence, and so I went to the adjacent LD gangstalking store, got some items and returned to the doctor's office. The medical office assistant was back behind the counter and printed off the form I needed. I see three shiftless males loitering outside, one sucking butt (a cigarette). All were acting independently, but as soon as I exited they each got the call to then head to the doctor's office. Like WTF; let's make it obvious and have three Fuckwits suddenly and simultaneously abandon their ridiculous pacing about and file into the doctor's office.
I did my laundry afterward, always a big perp deal,and got stiffed with "forgetting" some items, ones that I launder once every week. How this "forget" happened is nothing I can account for.
02-15-2015
Sunday, a shut-in day for some reason, even if the weather is inviting outside.
A big time waster is having me look ridiculously expensive hi-fi audio gear, as I don't have the scratch to afford any of it, even if better gear is substantially cheaper nowadays. Like $5,500 for a dedicated PC for audio listening, with separate AC cleaning, and power supply, no PCI boards and a SSD storage. Yes, this addressed current pissing match in getting music files to play through the OPPO's headphone jack is a pain in the ass, as it was supposed to be driven from the OPPO to find the NAS file copies instead, taking the load off the Windows PC. I have found that having a wholly separate and dedicated audio gear is better than having a PC provide the files. But that didn't happen, owing to the clunky OPPO interface and then the NAS support did not include flac files, my mainstay file format.
Anyhow, the above is likely dull material for most of my readership, and I generally keep the technical pissing matches off-blog.
Friday, December 12, 2014
To-Do List Machinations
12-10-2014
What is it about getting things done, especially when working from a list, that so interests the perps that they cause delays and other games I will explain below? For over a week I had been intending to get at least three things done, none screamingly important, but all the same level of urgency as three pebbles in my shoes. And of course I had all the time to get them done, as well as "forgetting" when online as well. Then a fourth item comes on, and then today, in a burst of unexpected motivation, I attend to them all as much as I can. (An unreturned phone call and awaiting an email is as far as I can go on one of them). And at the conclusion of getting this done, either by phone or email, why, a sudden urge to defecate comes on, so I shut the PC down and attend to that. And lo, for the first time in over 6 months, they pull one of their shit plastering games, and I have come to know that it is easier to clean up to take a short shower. It all got done without any further ado, but it leaves the question as to what was so important about getting onto a perp delayed list of items that they just had to arrange a messy crap and a shower clean up to conclude getting my list items done? And if that is important for the perps, which it seems to be, then this insane abusive insanity (theirs) has a long way to go.
Two days ago it was yoga, and the usual women where there with a maybe four visiting women as well. The all cleverly left an a free mat location on my L, as I was about the fifth person of 12 or so to arrive, and lo, if the gasping wheezing out-of-shape male didn't slip into that spot just before class began, and yet again, put on this pathetic act of making a whole lot of noise about a whole lot of nothing. As in being so out of shape, and so fat (two Unfavoreds) and wearing awful baggy brown shorts to his knees (two more Unfavoreds). Plus, being male over 20 y.o. is another Unfavored. I say "nothing" as I am relatively flexible and the yoga poses, save a few, are not terribly challenging to me. Clearly this oaf is way out of his league, so why doesn't he take a more fundamental level class? There is no reason except that he is placed there by his controllers for the very reason to make a whole lot of disgusting noise, never mind looking disgusting in all his blubber. Perturb the TI victim (some more) must be the perp edict/objective.
As I mentioned two or more weeks ago, the perps sent me a seeming explanatory message that this oaf's heavy breathing and gasping is to emulate a sexual abuser in full form. Well maybe it is, and maybe such an abuse was done to me when aged 2 y.o. to 5 y.o., the period for which the perps wiped my memory. And it isn't any stretch of imagination that the child abuse agenda is part and parcel of the wider nonconsensual human experimentation agenda that TI's have to come so well. Look up Brice Taylor, Cathy O'Brien, Kathrine Sullivan
A trip to the gym; or should I call it the grim-gym, as these shiftless males always surface, have "stun-outs" on the equipment, scoop the machine just ahead of me, and arrange themselves jointly to slowly move in closer. Six of the mofos lined themselves up when I was doing my final warm down, abbreviated due to them slowly closing in en masse. I decide to split, and lo, one of the mofos breaks off his work out to precede me down the stairs, the identical move of the babe gangstalker at the gym two visits ago. That is, six of seven males in the gym to slowly close in on me for crissakes. The major Fat Boy (260lbs) was left out of the final gangstalking fray/formation, and the two women were off to the side and seemed to be minding their own business.
They even added two dudes dressed in the same T-shirts, as some kind of equipment inspectors, loitering at one machine and then walking the length of the gym side-by-side. The perps seem to like amp-ing up the male factor of late; start with a proximate woman (even if she was doing extra high arm flings on the treadmill), then add in the males one by one, move the women out, have the males banter, and then add a uniformed male pair just to see how much I like that. And of course, vary the males with Unfavored features; hats, skinheads, fugly shorts below the knee, large guts, faux military clothing, brown clothing etc.
12-12-2014
Friday, and a special one for the perps, having me into get my legs waxed and my haircut at this particular place I regularly go to. This, after yesterday's shut-in day when I didn't go out at all. (Not working again until late January). And as mentioned in past posts, the perps go gangstalking and harassment silly after a shut-in day.
They even put on a small private yellow helicopter making two passes as I exited the gate outside my place. And today is also refuse pickup day, and although it was picked up at 0800h, they still put on a garbage truck at 1015h on my way to get my head hair cut and my leg hair pulled. Exciting times in perp-landia for sure. Not only that, but the elder male (geezer) gangstalk was on at the parking lot; one ahead and one behind me in driving in and at the ticket machine. The first one also "happened" to be seen at a suite above the hair salon. A geezer inside too, getting his hair cut, and lo, if the male haircut supervisor (about 45 y/o/) didn't do his best to be one too, not shaving for two days so to strut his beard stubble and then to wear a matching grey sweater. Not only did he come by with chocolates to offer me while getting my haircut from a brown skinned Asian girl, but made sure to be passing by when I was about to enter the area for leg waxing. And in keeping with the strange "don't know you now" behaviors, the fuchsia-on-blonde woman who cut my hair some six weeks ago was very visible but wasn't about to say hello or anything so friendly as that. No sir... normal human North American small town friendliness is not accorded for perp victims, even if they have mercilessly harassed the victim for 12.5 years every day, all day. And face it, NO ONE would forget me and the prior training and walk-throughs they must go through before the Potemkin Village is arranged for this TI.
And I see the surrounding hills are bereft of snow now, as they had plenty over the past three weeks. A warm spell came on in the last week, and with a whole lot of rain yesterday, why, I get to see the green (treed) hills again. Such things are important to the perps, these ever changing landscape colors, and sky colors too.
Miscellaneous other stuff of minor note:
the perps have me dry the dishes with a tea towel now, or mostly; (cutlery, knives, bowls, -plates dry themselves). Until recent months (since 2002), the dishes would dry in the dishes rack often much sooner than I expected from prior experience. I came to know in 2002 that they were berserk over towels, drying wet objects and myself too, and it was a given. But in mid-2014 I found I was using the tea towels much more and the dishes weren't as dry as they were formerly (2002 to 06-20214). I suppose one could call this progress, but I will know for sure when I have many different colored bathroom towels and I use a new one each day. Currently, I have a set of three I rotate over the week, all the same set. I don't how they are going to accomplish that one, as I usually get a set. I am sure they have the plans already made up, as I have come to know that some objects are acquired over five years in advance of using them.
A two hour nap attack this afternoon; and for once they didn't render me useless for the next hour "recovering" from it. They pulled that stunt about four days ago when they nailed me with a 2.5 hour nap attack in the afternoon, and I spent the next 1.5 hours feeling very groggy. And in both cases I was not short of sleep and had adequate sleep over the previous night.
They are having me wake up at 0900h or so these days, apart from today when I had the hair and waxing appointment. These non-alarm get-ups are taking up more morning time as it takes me 1.5 hours of breakfast, shower etc. to be ready for the day. I don't what it his about these winter short daylight days, but later get-up times has been a near constant since they went berserk/overt in 2002. I go to bed at 2200h or so, and then they keep me awake for an hour or two and then let me get 9 hours sleep, at least one more than I need.
12-13-2014
A 10 hour sleep last night, as if I needed the extra two hours, which I didn't. I suspect they want to start me later with the low direct sunlight beaming in.
Back to mild winter temperatures again, no more frozen ground of the last two weeks. And yes, temperature is very much part of the mix of variables the perps work with. The checkout-stalking with either frozen or hot goods, or both, fore and after hasn't gone unnoticed since all this bersekness began in 04-2002.
Laundry day, and the freaks are finding me there, same as the last laundromat. It was the dude with a blue toque with a summer hat on top, and sunglasses on the latter that upped the freak factor. Later, when outside, he was talking to himself to complete his freak credentials. A waddling male came from 12' away toward me as I was exiting the building (always a big stunt/harassment situation), the sun at his back so I got to see limited detail, but the mirror sunglasses was the crowning touch as to being yet another gangstalker in abreaction elicitation mode, as in posing as a threat to my subconscious memory.
I dropped in on the tanning salon today, being in the neighborhood as I took all my recycle material to the nearby depot. I hadn't seen this attendant before, she blonde with fuchsia and green streaks in her hair. And a pissy countenance and manner for no reason related to me. As mentioned many times, I have no idea why I get so many pissy or scared shitless looks, but I do, and it went up by an order of magnitude after 04-2002 when the perps went berserk/overt on me.
12-14-2014
Sunday, and a 0900h get up, another 10 hour sleep, meaning two hours of extra sleep I did not need.
An upgrade from Adobe for their Flashplayer turned into a full blown rage-ification caper. The upgrade also loaded that trojan horse called MacAfee (anti-virus software), and lo, if Eraser somehow couldn't get rid of it. And lo, if Eraser didn't also disappear off the task bar. And lo, if the infernal MacAfee software did NOT have an uninstall option. Plenty of screaming at the assholes unfolded before I got that most-loathed software purged. For the record, and it may not be true any more, but MacAfee was one of the most invasive commercial self-advertising applications I have ever known, and ever since, (10 years at least), I refuse all options to add it on. This time that infernal Adobe outfit did not give me an option, it just "installed itself" from the same file as the Adobe upgrade. Cute trick that.
Then another round of planned infuriation erupted as I looked at my charge card bill online and I discovered a charge from a supplements outfit that I did not incur. True, about a month ago I took on a $5 charge for a free sample and I expected that to be the end of it. But no, the assholes laid on a $75 charge three days ago that I did not authorize or otherwise solicit. The least they could of done was phone me to ask if the supplement did anything positive (or otherwise), and they would of found out I didn't want any more, never mind it not doing anything anyhow. So much for "free" products and all that. Unsolicited billing is totally outrageous. And lo, if my email didn't crap out (Firefox and IE show the text only crammed up on the L side with no apparent functionality), and I had to use the supplement outfit's website to send an email. The charge statement was emailed yesterday and "for some reason" I didn't look at it, only to find out today that their call center is not open today, but was yesterday. The number of coincident inconveniences went up at least ten -fold since 04-2002.
As if I don't get enough conspiratorial information; here is a corker (meaning total paradigm shift). Opiate drug addiction is totally curable by large doses of Vitamin C. Thanks to Whale.to for all this excellent information. And yet this is rarely heard of in these parts (Canada), which is, I assume, much like the USA with respect to illegal drugs use. Not only does a megadose of vitamin C stop craving immediately, but if continued (for a week or so) it stops the opiate from even having an effect! Furthermore, the paper details the limbic brain system where the opiate receptors are, and provides research on the fact that Vitamin C displaces opiates altogether, and these receptors should be called "ascorbate" receptors.
This begins a meta-pondering as to what is The Powers That Be (TPTB) interest in having opiate addicted humans. Is it that the opiates (usually) are grown in another part of the world, and in the case of illegal opiates, change provenance frequently, so TPTB are looking for some kind of energetic signature depending on where the opiate was sourced? And too, making massive amounts of money on illegal importation and distribution is a plain good money spinner. It seems that no one responsible wants to do the right thing and make it legal and of a consistent quality (usually from a single source). The major pissing matches over safe injection site's in Vancouver BC would be another example of TPTB ensuring the clinically unconscionable status quo continues. Ditto for the so-called chemotherapy medications for cancer, and too, Vitamin C in large doses can help here. The more I travel down this road of nonconsensual human experimentation, the more I realize that TI's are not alone. Whole other populations of humans are being experimented upon, e.g. illegal drug usage, cancer patients, but they don't realize it.
An evening reading about the real NSA and what they do to psychic children. If you thought that the Brice Taylor story and a few others were experimentation one-offs, think again. The NSA systematizes child abuse to create alternate personalities in young children to later use them for psychic spying and sabotage, also systematically applied. I don't know where Steve Smith gets his information from, but I haven't read anything quite like it in such graphic detail. I would suggest caution if the reader has past abuse and/or DID (mulitple personalities).
On that grim note, time to call this done for the week and to post this.
What is it about getting things done, especially when working from a list, that so interests the perps that they cause delays and other games I will explain below? For over a week I had been intending to get at least three things done, none screamingly important, but all the same level of urgency as three pebbles in my shoes. And of course I had all the time to get them done, as well as "forgetting" when online as well. Then a fourth item comes on, and then today, in a burst of unexpected motivation, I attend to them all as much as I can. (An unreturned phone call and awaiting an email is as far as I can go on one of them). And at the conclusion of getting this done, either by phone or email, why, a sudden urge to defecate comes on, so I shut the PC down and attend to that. And lo, for the first time in over 6 months, they pull one of their shit plastering games, and I have come to know that it is easier to clean up to take a short shower. It all got done without any further ado, but it leaves the question as to what was so important about getting onto a perp delayed list of items that they just had to arrange a messy crap and a shower clean up to conclude getting my list items done? And if that is important for the perps, which it seems to be, then this insane abusive insanity (theirs) has a long way to go.
Two days ago it was yoga, and the usual women where there with a maybe four visiting women as well. The all cleverly left an a free mat location on my L, as I was about the fifth person of 12 or so to arrive, and lo, if the gasping wheezing out-of-shape male didn't slip into that spot just before class began, and yet again, put on this pathetic act of making a whole lot of noise about a whole lot of nothing. As in being so out of shape, and so fat (two Unfavoreds) and wearing awful baggy brown shorts to his knees (two more Unfavoreds). Plus, being male over 20 y.o. is another Unfavored. I say "nothing" as I am relatively flexible and the yoga poses, save a few, are not terribly challenging to me. Clearly this oaf is way out of his league, so why doesn't he take a more fundamental level class? There is no reason except that he is placed there by his controllers for the very reason to make a whole lot of disgusting noise, never mind looking disgusting in all his blubber. Perturb the TI victim (some more) must be the perp edict/objective.
As I mentioned two or more weeks ago, the perps sent me a seeming explanatory message that this oaf's heavy breathing and gasping is to emulate a sexual abuser in full form. Well maybe it is, and maybe such an abuse was done to me when aged 2 y.o. to 5 y.o., the period for which the perps wiped my memory. And it isn't any stretch of imagination that the child abuse agenda is part and parcel of the wider nonconsensual human experimentation agenda that TI's have to come so well. Look up Brice Taylor, Cathy O'Brien, Kathrine Sullivan
A trip to the gym; or should I call it the grim-gym, as these shiftless males always surface, have "stun-outs" on the equipment, scoop the machine just ahead of me, and arrange themselves jointly to slowly move in closer. Six of the mofos lined themselves up when I was doing my final warm down, abbreviated due to them slowly closing in en masse. I decide to split, and lo, one of the mofos breaks off his work out to precede me down the stairs, the identical move of the babe gangstalker at the gym two visits ago. That is, six of seven males in the gym to slowly close in on me for crissakes. The major Fat Boy (260lbs) was left out of the final gangstalking fray/formation, and the two women were off to the side and seemed to be minding their own business.
They even added two dudes dressed in the same T-shirts, as some kind of equipment inspectors, loitering at one machine and then walking the length of the gym side-by-side. The perps seem to like amp-ing up the male factor of late; start with a proximate woman (even if she was doing extra high arm flings on the treadmill), then add in the males one by one, move the women out, have the males banter, and then add a uniformed male pair just to see how much I like that. And of course, vary the males with Unfavored features; hats, skinheads, fugly shorts below the knee, large guts, faux military clothing, brown clothing etc.
12-12-2014
Friday, and a special one for the perps, having me into get my legs waxed and my haircut at this particular place I regularly go to. This, after yesterday's shut-in day when I didn't go out at all. (Not working again until late January). And as mentioned in past posts, the perps go gangstalking and harassment silly after a shut-in day.
They even put on a small private yellow helicopter making two passes as I exited the gate outside my place. And today is also refuse pickup day, and although it was picked up at 0800h, they still put on a garbage truck at 1015h on my way to get my head hair cut and my leg hair pulled. Exciting times in perp-landia for sure. Not only that, but the elder male (geezer) gangstalk was on at the parking lot; one ahead and one behind me in driving in and at the ticket machine. The first one also "happened" to be seen at a suite above the hair salon. A geezer inside too, getting his hair cut, and lo, if the male haircut supervisor (about 45 y/o/) didn't do his best to be one too, not shaving for two days so to strut his beard stubble and then to wear a matching grey sweater. Not only did he come by with chocolates to offer me while getting my haircut from a brown skinned Asian girl, but made sure to be passing by when I was about to enter the area for leg waxing. And in keeping with the strange "don't know you now" behaviors, the fuchsia-on-blonde woman who cut my hair some six weeks ago was very visible but wasn't about to say hello or anything so friendly as that. No sir... normal human North American small town friendliness is not accorded for perp victims, even if they have mercilessly harassed the victim for 12.5 years every day, all day. And face it, NO ONE would forget me and the prior training and walk-throughs they must go through before the Potemkin Village is arranged for this TI.
And I see the surrounding hills are bereft of snow now, as they had plenty over the past three weeks. A warm spell came on in the last week, and with a whole lot of rain yesterday, why, I get to see the green (treed) hills again. Such things are important to the perps, these ever changing landscape colors, and sky colors too.
Miscellaneous other stuff of minor note:
the perps have me dry the dishes with a tea towel now, or mostly; (cutlery, knives, bowls, -plates dry themselves). Until recent months (since 2002), the dishes would dry in the dishes rack often much sooner than I expected from prior experience. I came to know in 2002 that they were berserk over towels, drying wet objects and myself too, and it was a given. But in mid-2014 I found I was using the tea towels much more and the dishes weren't as dry as they were formerly (2002 to 06-20214). I suppose one could call this progress, but I will know for sure when I have many different colored bathroom towels and I use a new one each day. Currently, I have a set of three I rotate over the week, all the same set. I don't how they are going to accomplish that one, as I usually get a set. I am sure they have the plans already made up, as I have come to know that some objects are acquired over five years in advance of using them.
A two hour nap attack this afternoon; and for once they didn't render me useless for the next hour "recovering" from it. They pulled that stunt about four days ago when they nailed me with a 2.5 hour nap attack in the afternoon, and I spent the next 1.5 hours feeling very groggy. And in both cases I was not short of sleep and had adequate sleep over the previous night.
They are having me wake up at 0900h or so these days, apart from today when I had the hair and waxing appointment. These non-alarm get-ups are taking up more morning time as it takes me 1.5 hours of breakfast, shower etc. to be ready for the day. I don't what it his about these winter short daylight days, but later get-up times has been a near constant since they went berserk/overt in 2002. I go to bed at 2200h or so, and then they keep me awake for an hour or two and then let me get 9 hours sleep, at least one more than I need.
12-13-2014
A 10 hour sleep last night, as if I needed the extra two hours, which I didn't. I suspect they want to start me later with the low direct sunlight beaming in.
Back to mild winter temperatures again, no more frozen ground of the last two weeks. And yes, temperature is very much part of the mix of variables the perps work with. The checkout-stalking with either frozen or hot goods, or both, fore and after hasn't gone unnoticed since all this bersekness began in 04-2002.
Laundry day, and the freaks are finding me there, same as the last laundromat. It was the dude with a blue toque with a summer hat on top, and sunglasses on the latter that upped the freak factor. Later, when outside, he was talking to himself to complete his freak credentials. A waddling male came from 12' away toward me as I was exiting the building (always a big stunt/harassment situation), the sun at his back so I got to see limited detail, but the mirror sunglasses was the crowning touch as to being yet another gangstalker in abreaction elicitation mode, as in posing as a threat to my subconscious memory.
I dropped in on the tanning salon today, being in the neighborhood as I took all my recycle material to the nearby depot. I hadn't seen this attendant before, she blonde with fuchsia and green streaks in her hair. And a pissy countenance and manner for no reason related to me. As mentioned many times, I have no idea why I get so many pissy or scared shitless looks, but I do, and it went up by an order of magnitude after 04-2002 when the perps went berserk/overt on me.
12-14-2014
Sunday, and a 0900h get up, another 10 hour sleep, meaning two hours of extra sleep I did not need.
An upgrade from Adobe for their Flashplayer turned into a full blown rage-ification caper. The upgrade also loaded that trojan horse called MacAfee (anti-virus software), and lo, if Eraser somehow couldn't get rid of it. And lo, if Eraser didn't also disappear off the task bar. And lo, if the infernal MacAfee software did NOT have an uninstall option. Plenty of screaming at the assholes unfolded before I got that most-loathed software purged. For the record, and it may not be true any more, but MacAfee was one of the most invasive commercial self-advertising applications I have ever known, and ever since, (10 years at least), I refuse all options to add it on. This time that infernal Adobe outfit did not give me an option, it just "installed itself" from the same file as the Adobe upgrade. Cute trick that.
Then another round of planned infuriation erupted as I looked at my charge card bill online and I discovered a charge from a supplements outfit that I did not incur. True, about a month ago I took on a $5 charge for a free sample and I expected that to be the end of it. But no, the assholes laid on a $75 charge three days ago that I did not authorize or otherwise solicit. The least they could of done was phone me to ask if the supplement did anything positive (or otherwise), and they would of found out I didn't want any more, never mind it not doing anything anyhow. So much for "free" products and all that. Unsolicited billing is totally outrageous. And lo, if my email didn't crap out (Firefox and IE show the text only crammed up on the L side with no apparent functionality), and I had to use the supplement outfit's website to send an email. The charge statement was emailed yesterday and "for some reason" I didn't look at it, only to find out today that their call center is not open today, but was yesterday. The number of coincident inconveniences went up at least ten -fold since 04-2002.
As if I don't get enough conspiratorial information; here is a corker (meaning total paradigm shift). Opiate drug addiction is totally curable by large doses of Vitamin C. Thanks to Whale.to for all this excellent information. And yet this is rarely heard of in these parts (Canada), which is, I assume, much like the USA with respect to illegal drugs use. Not only does a megadose of vitamin C stop craving immediately, but if continued (for a week or so) it stops the opiate from even having an effect! Furthermore, the paper details the limbic brain system where the opiate receptors are, and provides research on the fact that Vitamin C displaces opiates altogether, and these receptors should be called "ascorbate" receptors.
This begins a meta-pondering as to what is The Powers That Be (TPTB) interest in having opiate addicted humans. Is it that the opiates (usually) are grown in another part of the world, and in the case of illegal opiates, change provenance frequently, so TPTB are looking for some kind of energetic signature depending on where the opiate was sourced? And too, making massive amounts of money on illegal importation and distribution is a plain good money spinner. It seems that no one responsible wants to do the right thing and make it legal and of a consistent quality (usually from a single source). The major pissing matches over safe injection site's in Vancouver BC would be another example of TPTB ensuring the clinically unconscionable status quo continues. Ditto for the so-called chemotherapy medications for cancer, and too, Vitamin C in large doses can help here. The more I travel down this road of nonconsensual human experimentation, the more I realize that TI's are not alone. Whole other populations of humans are being experimented upon, e.g. illegal drug usage, cancer patients, but they don't realize it.
An evening reading about the real NSA and what they do to psychic children. If you thought that the Brice Taylor story and a few others were experimentation one-offs, think again. The NSA systematizes child abuse to create alternate personalities in young children to later use them for psychic spying and sabotage, also systematically applied. I don't know where Steve Smith gets his information from, but I haven't read anything quite like it in such graphic detail. I would suggest caution if the reader has past abuse and/or DID (mulitple personalities).
On that grim note, time to call this done for the week and to post this.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)