12-26-2013
Boxing Day in these here parts, though a regular work day in the US and of course. And what a fugly Christmas it has been in E. Canada, with an ice storm that took out power around Toronto for some 300,000 homes and businesses, as well as maritime Canada and some of the E. US. And adroitly timed two days before Christmas and adding a huge dose of FUD to those with plans at their own dwelling. As in, "will or won't they fix the power before my guests come or should I bail out now?". (FUD + Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt, a seeming perp prerogative to inflict on TI victims and the populace). That amount of weather mayhem wasn't sufficient though, as they soaked the UK and some of France in rain, and that erstwhile perp instrument, (brown) flood waters, again, before Christmas. Ho, ho from the Psychopaths Whole Stole Christmas. I know, it is all very conspiratorial, but I didn't come to this place until it was revealed to me that weather can be messed with from 3' around me, (e.g. wind around me alone as I walk), to the vehicle that I am driving, (e.g. portable rain that lands on no one else), and all the way up to local cloud bursts and then climatic systems, though I am less certain about the latter as I don't see the personal connection, except from the "browning around" games (e.g. floods) I am consistently inundated with. Though the perps do love temperature variations, having gangstalkers ahead/behind with freezer items and hot items at the supermarket checkout. As I have come to know it, this activity represents more permutations and combinations on perturbing the ether around the victim, me.
A no-underwear drift has erupted over the last few days, aided by the wretched washing machine here at the First Feral Family (FFF) house, where more lint arrives on the clothing that it had when placed in it. Somehow, my perp-abetting mother's ditz act didn't notice all this time, and it is only partially ameliorated by the dryer, should I use it. Which makes this house lint, dust and loose hair heaven for the perps, as in having all or some of these arrive on everything, and just laundered clothing is not spared. And not to forget another key perp research topic is laundering clothes, and having them slathered in their airborne intrusive surrogates (dust, lint, loose hair) as they are removed from the dryer is just too funny for words. And why did I "decide" to spend a month here anyhow? I don't ever forget any perp games, stunts, setups or harassment abuse prone locations, and somehow I "forgot". Though, for the record, they were able to deprive me from recalling all these affronts and vile fuckery since 2006 when it became clear they could manipulate and plunder my recall.
A visit to the old folks hospital to see the FFF dementia case, my father. And getting sucked into spending longer there, as I cannot stand the sights or smells of such places. Specifically, sucked into walking around two wards I hadn't seen before, with some areas having with-it patients such that they had a small library and internet stations. My perp-abetting mother did most of the wheelchair pushing, as the game seemed to be that while she dithered and blocked aisle and doorways, there was someone to be inserted between us. Bad enough dealing with a ditz act, and then insult after injury to have seeming staff member "happen" to be where we were twice more, as in reprise gangstalkings.
Then a ruse over my father's electric shaver as it couldn't be found, and so one of the staff went to look for it, and lo, if she didn't find it and mention it to us as we were about to depart for the above walk, revealling her disgusting tattoos on her arms. Said woman had already walked back and forth 3x while I was kept waiting, but it seems someone wanted me to see her tattoos from a different location/angle/lighting conditions.
I got the dubious honor of cleaning up my father's electric shaver into the sink, as it seems hospital staff haven't much time for it. Given the large perp efforts devoted to shaving and hair tweezing (face mostly), I suppose it was yet another FFF shaving encounter.
12-27-2013
A morning visit to a certain store, PA for now, who sell farm and auto equipment. It was a new part of town for me, though one I could readily figure out, save the perps screwing me around with an incorrect interpretation of the map before we set off. The perps just love screwing me around with incorrect maps and incorrect geographic recall. Back in the Extreme Fuckover Days of 2002, they even spoofed a street map I had of Richmond, BC (part of the greater Vancouver area). I wanted to go there for a specifi address/reason, one no doubt planted, and I could not find it anywhere for at least five minutes. Then I noticed that the street names were all wrong, on the index and on the map labels. It was totally useless and spoofed map. What kind of assholes would set that up and then fuck with a city street map in that manner? The sickest and most juvenile Fuckwits this planet has ever known. Other related stunts of that time were to kill the lighting on road signs at night, and even replace signs with others in unusual font. Kind of like in the movie(?), the Bates Motel.
And with respect to the above store visit, my perp-abetting mother needed a stainless steel bucket for her dye making activities as her enamel one had a chip in it and leached color from the steel. It just "happened" to be the identical make/size of the ss. buckets my boss had for the winery. He bought them at the same store chain, different branch, in 2012, and bizarrely, had me stand around waiting for him to come back while he toured the rest of the store. I hadn't been to a PA before, so it would of been more appropriate to show me around instead of this odd command.
A surge of six males came on when my mother was purchasing the item, with me and the cashier been given a ruse to vacate the checkout to search for a frigging flashlight, a seeming perp obsession given my mother's use of one and making sure her dipshit cover act serves to point in into my face. Can we say pit-lamping by a FFF member; I wonder if this Fuckover atrocity would of happened without her unstinting support all these 11.5 years and longer. That seems to be the burning question of late.
Next, a long known tool store, going back to 1980 when they were mail order only. Now, with some 16 branches across Canada and a tool development arm, LVT has come a long way. And lo, another dude surge, with a few cell-phoning assholes hounding me. I wanted to check out spirit levels, as they have a digital one on sale, but lo, if there wasn't any and one display wall in the relevant product area was bare. Most strange, though I should expect as much, as I was there two weeks ago, and I couldn't find the levels then.It would seem someone wanted back-to-back visits to tool stores, one I have known for some time, and one new to me as of 2012. I got to thinking how utterly insane this abuse is, putting on the above nonsense for 11.5 years.
Then out to get a tanning salon, and stop at the nearby stereo dealer. The much vaunted audiophile gear was not on sale as it turned out. Again, abounding shiftless males inside, and a choreographed dude convergence, but no purchase on my part. As if this long running, some two months now, imposed "need" to intensely review home audio gear wasn't enough, the perps now have me fussed over looking at car audio gear too, as this is also on sale at the discount stores during this Boxing Day week long sale until year's end.
Last night dinner at the ex's and our daughter. Of special note, there were a couple (joint friends) there who I haven't seen for 7 years. Of course they look older, but did they say anything about me looking 20+ years younger? Not a bit of it. The perps kept me dulled and stupid at times, and threw in the odd stutter for good measure.
New/continuing games today; wearing a one-time laundered new shirt (teal green) I got from my out-of-town brother, and the underwear games continue, with a least two pairs gone missing, meaning another no underwear day. Funny how these keep "happening" now. Once can be sure that these advances in perp harassment and clothing color fuckery will continue when I get back to Penticton. I assume that their research games/results are most advanced and that they wish to correlate them when at my normal residence location.
12-28-2013
At the FFF house mostly today, doing digging, weeding and plant transplanting. As always, this is of high perp interest, especially when cutting or digging up plant roots. The dog barking eruptions, the near continuous overhead extra aircraft noise (single engine prop + one helicopter), the neighbood sawyer cutting up wood on a table or chop saw, and even my own perp-abetting mother was in on the tapping thing. These "tapping attacks" erupt wherever I go, nearly always "from" roofing jobs or ridiculous house construction activity. (What builder taps once per second, assuming they are driving nails with a hammer, which they rarely do nowadays?). Though today, it was my FFF mother up to something, though she never explained why or what she was tapping. This is aided by the fact that the resident claw hammers (2) have gone missing and the one she now uses is a small school shop hammer I made in about 1970. Somehow, she had a need for this particular one, that is rarely used and kept in the basement utility room. Now, it is elevated for kitchen storage, lying on the counter. I suppose there is some kind of energetics "vibe" change in moving it from a wood desk drawer to sit on the laminate and the MDF composite wood underneath it. Woo-hoo, here we are some 11.5 years of this fucking insane abuse, and the sick-asses are moving my school-made hammer from basement to kitchen (a half story apart).
And I see that two pairs of my underwear arrived somehow, having disappeared yesterday. They were in my suitcase where I keep the fresh folded pairs, and it would of been only me who would of folded and placed them there. It was a rare case of temporarily missing clothes, though for the most part, the perps cause premature wear and color bleachings if they don't want a certain garment (purge duplicates) or bed sheet items. But as I am visiting at the FFF house, and the perps needed a no-underwear day yesterday, why, they just disappeared when I needed them. That didn't stop them from pumping me all day yesterday as to what I was going to do about this, and the most sensible answer I had was to go and purchase more, though with the intent of getting briefs without the ridiculous extra panels they so like me to have. Regular readers and TI's will know the perps are totally berserk over what pairs of underwear I have, and will obstruct any efforts to rationalize them or acquire a more desired design. It would seem the perp assholes cannot get enough of having my underwear with doubled panels, which might of been the reason they blanked me out from recalling to get more when I was out in the shopping areas yesterday.
And the powerline maintenance dudes came by today, "happening" to continue work in this neighborhood on Dec. 24. These are the ones in a boom truck and with portable powered saws to cut away at tree branches and foliage that is overtopping the powerlines. I didn't think anything of it, save it being perfectly predictable gangstalking methods owing to the plethora of boom trucks I pass by since this fuckery began in 04-2002. (I have even seen extra boomtrucks that are sitting doing nothing on the job, while two others are at work). Then when the TV news imagery from Ontario and the Maritimes came on, why, no end of boom trucks cutting down trees and debris on the powerlines due to the above mentioned ice storm.
12-29-2012
A new method of foiling online shopping erupted today; the "shopping cart" plain didn't work. I add a certain car CD deck by clicking the "Add to Cart" button, and it comes back and says nothing was added to the cart. I have had many, many screw-ups and adversity over online shopping over the past 11.5 years of this insane abuse, but taking out a shopping cart is a new one on me. It is W. Canadian chain of stores, and I especially wanted a certain deck on sale, as it did not have any red illumination on it. I am totally fed up with the amount of red flashes I get from all sources including when my eyes are closed, and don't need one travelling beside me. A certain favored make of long ago had light green and white illumination, but has now changed to blue and red. Though, they aren't the only ones. The manufacturer of interest has just blue illumination, though I do see a new entry level model with blue and red. So perhaps they are selling off the only-blue ones and don't want me want to have me. That is how it goes, or it could be a ruse to shake me down for another $50 for the next model up, also blue-only illuminated. Who knows.
A pokey day at the FFF house, having got onto running a chop saw this morning to cut a number of pegs from old broom and tool handles. It is part of a wall hung rack to have the garden tools finally hung up instead of littered in a pile. In other words, it was my turn to make wood sawing noise in the neighborhood, instead of others who noise stalked me most times I have been outside in the last two weeks. I got my usual dog barkings, aircraft noise and loud muffler noise. My perp-abetting mother sprung a meet-and-greet this afternoon, one possible time to see my daughter before she heads back to Vancouver to re-start work. No advance notice, and of course I am expected to be social and make pleasant.
And stood up; daughter and ex don't show up, all to fuel FUD or whatever the perps get from broken appointments and invitations. Also artfully managing my knowledge and anticipation, by springing this on me this morning, and not three days ago when we visited their place for dinner, per above.
What a way to spend one's time. I can hardly wait to depart this gluten-palace; all the cakes, cookies and every like British dessert has been trotted out every day since before Christmas, and for one who avoids it, this holiday season has been a gluten-feed. The perps seem to like me to have these gluten binges, as I surmise that normal mealtime portions of bread weren't sufficient for whatever toxicological objectives they have in mind. I went off gluten in about 1994, and feel the better for it, until arriving at this UK cuisine island. Or more likely, a perp arranged event, and they want me to dose up on it for whatever gluten purging research they are doing. (And likely, the human species as a whole). I am not a celiac, but have read various books including Primal Mind, Primal Body, and the author is uncharacteristically dire as to the horrors of ingesting gluten. Anyhow, these FFF visits are a cast back into the UK cuisine of old, though thankfully without the greasy foods. The "breadstalking" I sometimes get in public is one such arranged event that has a part in the gluten games, the most egregious example being a male Fuckwit carrying/balancing a loaf of sliced bread, still in its original plastic bag, on his bare horizontal forearm. I get plenty of bakery deliveries/arranged stunts when visiting supermarkets, as it seems that the loading bay at the back isn't good enough for them. So they deliver it about the time I am exiting or entering the store, and make sure there is a stack of bread in the supermarket aisle for me to walk past. And if walking past a bakery, I get the supplies delivery, e.g. a pallet of flour delivered to the street (in a parking stall) for it to sit there for half a day until unloaded.
More of TV inundation tonight; it seems they wanted me to see a repeat of 60 Minutes from various shows in the last two years; the daredevils in wing suits, the in-close polar bear photography methods, and swimming with crocodiles. All seen before, but why now when this is the middle of their season? Could be legit I suppose, e.g. low viewing numbers at this time of year, so throw a who-cares piece in.
Though, the negros-on-TV hasn't let up, with Mandela's funeral a few weeks ago, and now, advertising for the Mandela biopic. That smacks of coordination to my mind, getting a real world demise to build an audience for a film depicting the just-deceased .
Sunday night now, and I shall get this posted for another week.
Showing posts with label underwear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label underwear. Show all posts
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Sunday, December 09, 2012
New Motel Residence
12-03-2012
First weekday at this new residence. And the brown games were on. Not only do have many unpacked cardboard boxes, and the contents out of those that I did unpack, but I also received a brown box from a certain online discount place with the items that I ordered. Of major note was this soft shell jacket, a nice mid-blue in color, and lo, if it didn't have a patterned scarlet red colored liner that I did not expect. This is so much red that I don't think I could wear it, even if it doesn't show. The perps have a way of planting constant nagging ideations to have one change their mind awful quick. And I also see that the same underwear I order in black, is now with a half blue waistband (inside) and with some small red patterns on it too. Otherwise, it is identical in make and cut to my all black underwear. And as the perps have been on a ten year long tear as to my underwear color and all the other related details, this represents the first progress in being allowed to have anything but black underwear. They still won't let me have plain briefs, and insist that I have a high waist and extra (useless) panels on the front.
12-05-2012
A double move as it "happened"; the room next door was to be the one, but lo, if there wasn't a problem with the reservations, so I had to move again last night, one room away. This being a motel room, and cramped it is, unlike the one I had in January thru May. The perps like to alternate keeping me crammed and then having sufficient room. I would posit that there has been two of each for the four places I lived in this year, alternating, and starting with sufficient room.
Then too, this motel has more of the shiftless males loitering around with no seeming day job; sitting outside their rooms, sucking on cigarettes, and their telltale perp coughing and hacking. Every so often they do a soliloquy on the cell phone to ensure I hear enough background "dude banter", as has been the long running perp stunt.
And true to form, a resumption of the toilet blocking games within 2 minutes of finishing the move-in for this residence. Regular readers will recall this identical stunt/event got pulled on me the last residence within a minute of the last box being hauled from the vehicle. And then that wasn't enough, because the put me through the same exercise this morning. I recall this same back-to-back blocked toilet stunt was pulled in the first week of the last place too.
They gave me a week off from toilet games last week, and now are back at it. At least they didn't block it as I was departing the last place as these events can go for three or more days before they are "resolved" with Liquid Plumber. Or should that be dissolved? And just when I wanted more ammunition in the form of bleach to deal with this problem, why, it disappeared from the shelves of the regular gangstalker big box store. (And the red staff shirts give me the heebie-jeebies). Regular readers will recall that the One Minute Plumber gas cartridges also disappeared from the same shelves when I was to replenish the three expended cartridges at my employer's toilet hassles this past summer.
And plenty more hassle today, the first morning in this room; re-directed finger control, objects flipping or turning on their own, soap bubbles from nowhere and all the other juvenile pranks that I have come to loathe all day long.
12-07-2012
I got whacked for a 45 min. "nap attack" after tea and chocolate some 15 minutes into a new book; and has this not repeated in recent months? Yes it has, and it would seem they want me more psychically accessible following beginning a book.
The former landlady had to be re-visited yesterday for me to collect my damage deposit. What a freak; 250lb, dressed entirely in red, and a thick neck like a frog. Then she regales me with her Air Miles card woes (again), as if I gave a shit, as I loathe those customer loyalty cards, unless store specific.
The landlady paid me in cash, the new Canadian $50 bills with polymer "paper" and even a see-through panel. The bills ended up in my wallet for longer than planned as she kept me until my tanning appointment time (clothes off, note), which then backed into store closure time and a big perp stakeout at the LD store. Then to the ATM where oddly, two of the six $50 bills went missing, though I wasn't allowed to know that then. Only afterwards did they run the logic of how much there should of been from a damage deposit, reimbursement and labor work I did for her. I was $100 short, and yet I put all the $50 bills into the envelope. [Post script; I see the bank ATM staff logged a "Error" and a $100 addition to my account, now one day later. So it would seem the perps needed to steal two new polymer bills from my wallet, have me deposit the remainder after jerking me around to other errands when I intended to deposit them right away, and then give them back by either re-inserting them into the sealed deposit envelope or directly transacting with the banking system. This would not be the first time contents of my wallet have disappeared by themselves outside of the conventional physical reality of most every one else.
They finally let me finish out the week with vineyard work, the wine all put to bed for the month I am to be away. I also moved the fruit tree prunings from yesterday; a tree service person came yesterday while I was inside, putzing with the wine making. The perps like to arrange someone cutting plant material near me, if not having me do it. Last year, when helping the boss' son move house, the cable installer was cutting a nearby shrub with his pliers as one of the more absurd cases of cutlery severing plant material. Just to think we now have combine harvesters cutting swaths of wheat, corn or whatever, and here are the perps grinding me on pruning vines or fruit trees. Back in 1996 I had a small hobby farm with an acre of kiwi fruit, which needed pruning each year. Now 18 years later, they put me through the same routine, just on someone else's farm.
12-08-2012
A Saturday, and a full leg wax appointment. They pulled snow in the night, though only one or two inches, and it warmed up during the daytime to melt some of the ice that was crusted on my vehicle. No driving hijinks either with some ice on the road. The perps can use anything as an excuse to create hassle or adversity.
I went shopping after the leg wax, and the perps do like to swarm me then, and I had my posse in LD store again, though no loitering dude where I needed to go this time. Then to vacuum my vehicle for the second time in a week, as the pink gravel at the vineyard seems to find its way on my shoes and then into the foot well.
The yapping dudes has set up outside my door, just voices right now, though when closer one of them mentioned a "roster". Hmm, as in organized shiftless males. Kind of a gimme on their part.
Another parcel has gone AWOL. A watchband to replace the one where the keeper self-ripped and for the last three weeks this infernal watchband sticks out 3" and contacts anything and everything at my L. hand. In the past, during key Fuckover moments, the watch band would flip out from its keeper loop all by itself, and now, I have the watchband snagging games going 24x7. Said letter parcel is traceable, and it took six days to send it from Bethel CT to Bethpage NY making it there Nov. 26. It left Bethpage NY Nov. 29 with three departure scans in three days and hasn't been scanned anywhere else since. And have I not mentioned the strange goings on with parcel deliveries? Many times.
Meanwhile, a book was ordered a few days later and it arrived inside a week. Largely because it is a two hour drive away, though I didn't know that at the time I ordered it. It seems that Amazon doesn't want me to know where the seller is physically located, and only the province, state and country is mentioned. Just more coincidence games it would seem.
Speaking of which, for the past two mornings, a vehicle at the next motel, 100' to my right, has been copying my R turn identically as I pull out from the motel to the street. I had this same deal for at least three mornings in succession at the last place I lived at. Though it is nothing new, as this copy-cat driving, emulating my turns and lane changes, was evident as soon as the assholes went berserk/overt in 04-2002.
12-09-2012
I am due to drive out to Kelowna, 1.5hr northbound, and I see the perps pulled another snow job. Only an hour ago I checked the forecast and no snow was mentioned.
Am back from yoga; only 9 others this snowy morning, though not deep. Much less than the elbow to elbow classes with 25 or more. The cycling dude got close today, he and his grunting for crissakes, and he cannot get the poses right, only going partway. Said dude managed to park himself over my boots after class, and after putting his dumbshit dayglo coat next to mine for the entire class as I discovered afterward. Then while changing he stepped into my view, so fuck that, I cross to the other side of the lobby where a couch is, which was the signal for two women to suddenly file out the door. All these choreographed exits, entrances and obstructions.
They put on the blonde, young and proportional but-large woman instructor this morning, and making sure I saw her oversized ass more than once. This time she was in all black, having alternated from black and white in past classes. And it seemed to be bra-straps-on-show today, nearly half the women with some kind of visible undergarment straps. This is nothing new in the perp arrangements anywhere I go, but to have an undue emphasis on it in one yoga class is most curious. And one tattoo woman who put herself directly behind me by 8', and it seemed to be the arrangement that I would only occasionally see the tattoo in the mirror. Bad enough, but she was the one that came beside me two weeks ago when I was last there, and with plenty of more tattoo exposure then. And if I don't like the sight of tattoos, why is it that a secret organization needs me to see them in glimpses everywhere for over ten years of hounding me out of work and a normal existence?
The yapping dudes outside my door have clustered and keeping up the male banter, post tea and chocolate. Double the usual 100g no less, to make sure I have more brown signature I suppose.
Calling this one done before I travel to the First Feral Family home for four weeks. There should be a carol for TI's, maybe to the tune of 12 Days of Christmas- Four Fuckwits, Three Belligerent Drivers, Two Split Couples and a Brain in Research. You get the idea. In fact, the perps let me have a number of versions in prior years before they cut that from me.
First weekday at this new residence. And the brown games were on. Not only do have many unpacked cardboard boxes, and the contents out of those that I did unpack, but I also received a brown box from a certain online discount place with the items that I ordered. Of major note was this soft shell jacket, a nice mid-blue in color, and lo, if it didn't have a patterned scarlet red colored liner that I did not expect. This is so much red that I don't think I could wear it, even if it doesn't show. The perps have a way of planting constant nagging ideations to have one change their mind awful quick. And I also see that the same underwear I order in black, is now with a half blue waistband (inside) and with some small red patterns on it too. Otherwise, it is identical in make and cut to my all black underwear. And as the perps have been on a ten year long tear as to my underwear color and all the other related details, this represents the first progress in being allowed to have anything but black underwear. They still won't let me have plain briefs, and insist that I have a high waist and extra (useless) panels on the front.
12-05-2012
A double move as it "happened"; the room next door was to be the one, but lo, if there wasn't a problem with the reservations, so I had to move again last night, one room away. This being a motel room, and cramped it is, unlike the one I had in January thru May. The perps like to alternate keeping me crammed and then having sufficient room. I would posit that there has been two of each for the four places I lived in this year, alternating, and starting with sufficient room.
Then too, this motel has more of the shiftless males loitering around with no seeming day job; sitting outside their rooms, sucking on cigarettes, and their telltale perp coughing and hacking. Every so often they do a soliloquy on the cell phone to ensure I hear enough background "dude banter", as has been the long running perp stunt.
And true to form, a resumption of the toilet blocking games within 2 minutes of finishing the move-in for this residence. Regular readers will recall this identical stunt/event got pulled on me the last residence within a minute of the last box being hauled from the vehicle. And then that wasn't enough, because the put me through the same exercise this morning. I recall this same back-to-back blocked toilet stunt was pulled in the first week of the last place too.
They gave me a week off from toilet games last week, and now are back at it. At least they didn't block it as I was departing the last place as these events can go for three or more days before they are "resolved" with Liquid Plumber. Or should that be dissolved? And just when I wanted more ammunition in the form of bleach to deal with this problem, why, it disappeared from the shelves of the regular gangstalker big box store. (And the red staff shirts give me the heebie-jeebies). Regular readers will recall that the One Minute Plumber gas cartridges also disappeared from the same shelves when I was to replenish the three expended cartridges at my employer's toilet hassles this past summer.
And plenty more hassle today, the first morning in this room; re-directed finger control, objects flipping or turning on their own, soap bubbles from nowhere and all the other juvenile pranks that I have come to loathe all day long.
12-07-2012
I got whacked for a 45 min. "nap attack" after tea and chocolate some 15 minutes into a new book; and has this not repeated in recent months? Yes it has, and it would seem they want me more psychically accessible following beginning a book.
The former landlady had to be re-visited yesterday for me to collect my damage deposit. What a freak; 250lb, dressed entirely in red, and a thick neck like a frog. Then she regales me with her Air Miles card woes (again), as if I gave a shit, as I loathe those customer loyalty cards, unless store specific.
The landlady paid me in cash, the new Canadian $50 bills with polymer "paper" and even a see-through panel. The bills ended up in my wallet for longer than planned as she kept me until my tanning appointment time (clothes off, note), which then backed into store closure time and a big perp stakeout at the LD store. Then to the ATM where oddly, two of the six $50 bills went missing, though I wasn't allowed to know that then. Only afterwards did they run the logic of how much there should of been from a damage deposit, reimbursement and labor work I did for her. I was $100 short, and yet I put all the $50 bills into the envelope. [Post script; I see the bank ATM staff logged a "Error" and a $100 addition to my account, now one day later. So it would seem the perps needed to steal two new polymer bills from my wallet, have me deposit the remainder after jerking me around to other errands when I intended to deposit them right away, and then give them back by either re-inserting them into the sealed deposit envelope or directly transacting with the banking system. This would not be the first time contents of my wallet have disappeared by themselves outside of the conventional physical reality of most every one else.
They finally let me finish out the week with vineyard work, the wine all put to bed for the month I am to be away. I also moved the fruit tree prunings from yesterday; a tree service person came yesterday while I was inside, putzing with the wine making. The perps like to arrange someone cutting plant material near me, if not having me do it. Last year, when helping the boss' son move house, the cable installer was cutting a nearby shrub with his pliers as one of the more absurd cases of cutlery severing plant material. Just to think we now have combine harvesters cutting swaths of wheat, corn or whatever, and here are the perps grinding me on pruning vines or fruit trees. Back in 1996 I had a small hobby farm with an acre of kiwi fruit, which needed pruning each year. Now 18 years later, they put me through the same routine, just on someone else's farm.
12-08-2012
A Saturday, and a full leg wax appointment. They pulled snow in the night, though only one or two inches, and it warmed up during the daytime to melt some of the ice that was crusted on my vehicle. No driving hijinks either with some ice on the road. The perps can use anything as an excuse to create hassle or adversity.
I went shopping after the leg wax, and the perps do like to swarm me then, and I had my posse in LD store again, though no loitering dude where I needed to go this time. Then to vacuum my vehicle for the second time in a week, as the pink gravel at the vineyard seems to find its way on my shoes and then into the foot well.
The yapping dudes has set up outside my door, just voices right now, though when closer one of them mentioned a "roster". Hmm, as in organized shiftless males. Kind of a gimme on their part.
Another parcel has gone AWOL. A watchband to replace the one where the keeper self-ripped and for the last three weeks this infernal watchband sticks out 3" and contacts anything and everything at my L. hand. In the past, during key Fuckover moments, the watch band would flip out from its keeper loop all by itself, and now, I have the watchband snagging games going 24x7. Said letter parcel is traceable, and it took six days to send it from Bethel CT to Bethpage NY making it there Nov. 26. It left Bethpage NY Nov. 29 with three departure scans in three days and hasn't been scanned anywhere else since. And have I not mentioned the strange goings on with parcel deliveries? Many times.
Meanwhile, a book was ordered a few days later and it arrived inside a week. Largely because it is a two hour drive away, though I didn't know that at the time I ordered it. It seems that Amazon doesn't want me to know where the seller is physically located, and only the province, state and country is mentioned. Just more coincidence games it would seem.
Speaking of which, for the past two mornings, a vehicle at the next motel, 100' to my right, has been copying my R turn identically as I pull out from the motel to the street. I had this same deal for at least three mornings in succession at the last place I lived at. Though it is nothing new, as this copy-cat driving, emulating my turns and lane changes, was evident as soon as the assholes went berserk/overt in 04-2002.
12-09-2012
I am due to drive out to Kelowna, 1.5hr northbound, and I see the perps pulled another snow job. Only an hour ago I checked the forecast and no snow was mentioned.
Am back from yoga; only 9 others this snowy morning, though not deep. Much less than the elbow to elbow classes with 25 or more. The cycling dude got close today, he and his grunting for crissakes, and he cannot get the poses right, only going partway. Said dude managed to park himself over my boots after class, and after putting his dumbshit dayglo coat next to mine for the entire class as I discovered afterward. Then while changing he stepped into my view, so fuck that, I cross to the other side of the lobby where a couch is, which was the signal for two women to suddenly file out the door. All these choreographed exits, entrances and obstructions.
They put on the blonde, young and proportional but-large woman instructor this morning, and making sure I saw her oversized ass more than once. This time she was in all black, having alternated from black and white in past classes. And it seemed to be bra-straps-on-show today, nearly half the women with some kind of visible undergarment straps. This is nothing new in the perp arrangements anywhere I go, but to have an undue emphasis on it in one yoga class is most curious. And one tattoo woman who put herself directly behind me by 8', and it seemed to be the arrangement that I would only occasionally see the tattoo in the mirror. Bad enough, but she was the one that came beside me two weeks ago when I was last there, and with plenty of more tattoo exposure then. And if I don't like the sight of tattoos, why is it that a secret organization needs me to see them in glimpses everywhere for over ten years of hounding me out of work and a normal existence?
The yapping dudes outside my door have clustered and keeping up the male banter, post tea and chocolate. Double the usual 100g no less, to make sure I have more brown signature I suppose.
Calling this one done before I travel to the First Feral Family home for four weeks. There should be a carol for TI's, maybe to the tune of 12 Days of Christmas- Four Fuckwits, Three Belligerent Drivers, Two Split Couples and a Brain in Research. You get the idea. In fact, the perps let me have a number of versions in prior years before they cut that from me.
Sunday, October 09, 2011
All Carrots Day
10-03-2011
A Monday, returning from The First Feral Family house to start work and my overnight bag with its used face cloth in it was at the farm the whole day that I bagged, and participated in the carrot unloading from the hopper truck and the conveyor line work. One can say I am sick of the sight of carrots, though in perp-land that counts for nothing, as they are on a major push to find out why I don't like the color orange. Don't ask me, as my recall was deleted almost entirely from 1956 to 1959, and the subconscious traumatization associations remain. Same for red, yellow, brown. Not my problem, so why in the fuck am I set up for over nine years with all these dumbshit arranged games over colors, not to mention gangstalking and being kept in a rage-ified state due to constant torment?
Amanda Knox walks free after four years in jail, and her statement was wanting her life back. Try nine years of this fucking abuse, being the mind-fuck victim that gets circulated to all manner of stunts, and gets rammed into doing farm work, just so loud noises can be arranged to erupt each time I touch a carrot, pick a squash or anything associated with plant harvesting, pruning, root digging and the rest of it. More bizarre than Amanda herself, but it is ongoing and relentless.
10-04-2011
More bagging carrots, then conveyor line work on unloading carrots, then raspberry picking (with a fake-out for strawberry picking at first, which meant that I had my knee pads on, not really needed for raspberry picking). After lunch, the reverse; readied for raspberry picking I get diverted to strawberry picking, this time the reverse, getting caught out strawberry picking without my kneepads on. The carrot washing again, then carrot bagging.
And these are plastic bags we a putting the carrots in, and have I said how absolutely beserk the perps are when I handle, touch or even look at objects of plastic? Maybe hundreds of times, but it continues; I get to open the brown cardboard box of 500 plastic bags, and then get to pass a half inch thick of them to one carrot bagger who then hands them onto the carrot bagger who made the request. (Naturally, the 5" deep box of plastic bags is kept near me on the carrot bagging line). And too, there are bale bags, larger plastic bags to hold 50lb of 5lb bags, and lo, if the E. Indian handling the bale bags isn't flicking them to get them open when all he has to do is to peel them apart as they have ventilation holes cut in them. (Also good for scads of chads to flutter and fall about).
I stopped work at 1700h, got the 1730h #6 bus, and up to 12 other passengers on it all the way into town. Yet, when I take buses at 1800h to 1930h, I get at least twice that many, save the odd time. It just doesn't add up, save the gangstalking and freakshow imperative.
10-05-2011
Another email hack at my Yahoo account. A recent plundering though, as they accessed my contacts list which hasn't been up for more than six months. They got an email from me promoting Viagra, and then had a link to an attack web site that would clobber your computer if it wasn't protected.
A half day of work at the farm today, the morning spent with the employment counsellor who had some kind of special dispensation to go beyond the usual hour time frame. The perps like to set up expectations and then manipulate the events to have them dashed or unexpectedly altered. In this case, I have met the person some 10x, and the deal is that the appointment is an hour. But today, while not able to look at my watch to keep up the eye contact and not appear rude, I had this sense the meeting should of been over, but it was continuing, him doing all the talking. Finally, I got a sneak look at my watch at 1108h, and then I knew the fix was on.
Anyhow, I got the "red men" gangstalking before and after, these loitering louts with some article of red clothing, often including red shoelaces for crissakes. This one dude was sucking on weed (smoking a cigarette) outside the building entrance to the employment offices, and wearing a red jacket. I get into the elevator and lo, just before the door closes, this sucker comes in, timing his arrival and that of his smoke filled lungs perfectly to catch the elevator before it departed. So... as it "happens" he is going to the second floor too, and he strangely motions me to get out the elevator ahead of him, and then he tails me out and lo, if he isn't going to the same office as me. Just fucking bizarre and very obvious.
l got to the farm at about 1230h, time to have lunch and then start into raspberry picking, and then strawberry picking. Once it was break time, why, I got detailed for helping raise panels as part of the haunted house exhibit. And around 1700h, when traversing through the haunted house maze with two batteries for the drill the carpenter was using, why, the perps forced a "wet fart", as in having me crap my pants. At first I wasn't sure, but it felt different after a few minutes and so it was time to do the honors of cleaning this mess up in the bathroom, and yet again, donate a pair of underwear for the Fuckover cause. After some anxious moments the toilet flushed without backing up, unlike the last time the perps pulled this same stunt at a different farm. So... here we go again, purging brown out of me and have me
go the remainder of the day without underwear. Just plain fucking hilarious, and the Fuckwit who pulled this stunt had better keep their helmet on all the time, lest an errant bat make contact with their head.
Which now changes the "underwear ecology", another perp infatuation of long standing. All the underwear that I own is black colored, which isn't enough. The two sets of one kind, one with a doubled fabric as the waistband/hem had been used almost alternately every day for the past 8 months or so. But now, with one pair gone, it is back to using the elastic waistbanded set, down to five pairs after another shit show at the other farm back in 03-2011. In other words, the elastic waistbanded set will get more use, as it seems the perp's underwear energetics research, or whatever they are studying, has now moved on and they are confident they can apply the determinations of one set to that of the second set. Naturally, the more confortable doubled fabric waistbanded pairs became unavailible when I wanted to get more, and I had to settle for more of the latter set. The underwear battles have been going on for years in many variations to have me purchase new pairs, e.g. waistband "failure", fabric pilling, seam pilling and hem parting and on and on. Not forgetting that one prior set of six, after being purchased, was taken to get altered and the waistbands lowered 2". In this case, the perps had a fabric sample from each pair, as the alterations person never gave me the spare fabric back.
10-07-2011
A farm work day; bagging carrots inside, then outside to help in the potato unloading/washing that got stalled out two days ago when there were no packing boxes for the finished product. And have I ever mentioned how the perps like to disrupt processes and have them re-start days or months later? Many hundreds of times I should think. That they were red potatoes in a green colored trailer, might of aided the perp's color games as well.
Retards on the bus in the morning; the regular 0715 #6 bus N. bound, and instead of the three negroes stunt of last week, why, it is the three retards/Downs or whatever it is. A perp favorite is to add halfwits into the gangstalking mix, but all the more curious they needed three at once.
Another Unfavored/freakshow populations is blind folk; two together on the bus in this evening. Again, it is most curious why they are doubling or tripling the number of Unfavoreds/freaks at the same time.
While at the picnic table at lunchtime at the farm, a woman in a silver grey sedan pulls up and gets out in white pants and a brown coat. She is looking for certain kinds of potatoes, and I get dispatched to help out, wandering all over the coolers with the farmer's son in his red hoodie, looking for specific potato types, though I have no idea where they keep them all. And lo, if this woman isn't hanging over where my pack is kept by the doorway, and blocking egress to it. Which is exactly what my farm co-workers do too at other times. Funny how that "happens", again and again, just with a change of players.
10-08-2011
A farm work day, though I am short on specifics, except to note that we had to re-process both carrots and potatoes this week. That is to say, they were in bins or were packed in 50 lb boxes respectively, and were put through the washing and grading for the second time. The farmer's wife told me that they had 100 tons of boxed potatoes that they couldn't sell as the buyers are annoyed that there is so much rot in the potatoes. Some of it is detectable to us graders on the conveyor line, but she also made it plain that her husband is in too much of a hurry to push the product through and not concerning himself enough with quality. More dysfunction on the farm, and I didn't dig any deeper on that one.
And lo, if the packed potatoes aren't being stored in the massive coolers at the other farm I worked at, 2008 to 03-2011, this year. Kind of interesting, these potatoes making the reverse circuit between the two farms I have worked at. And have I mentioned how the perps seem to be so interested in the provenance of food, and that they like to vary my food sources from time to time, making certain ones are unavailible? Many times.
10-09-2011
2100h
A wrap to gto this blog posted, because if I don't, it will slide another week while keeping the day job as farmworker, or at least, to the end of October is what I am told.
I am staying at the First Feral Family house as my perp abetting mother has left for two weeks in the UK, my out of town brother unexpectedly accompanying her once they meet up in Vancouver, BC. And, almost needless to day, this house is the nexus of perp research and abuse, as whatever they discover here in the way of remotely assayed brain, psychic energies, EMF or whatever the fuck else they are studying me for (food intake, clothing fabrics and colors, associated noises with thoughts or actions etc.), is attempted to be applied elsewhere. Like earlier today, an accompaniment of red colored gangstalking vehicles with silver grey and mid-grey tones while driving my mother to the Victoria airport, then afterward, driving downtown to my place to drop off a new web-ordered coat that was at the FFF house, and pick up some of my regular food that was in my fridge and then drive back to the FFF where I am now typing this up. So what it seems is that they want me to have my usual and same (mostly) cuisine at the FFF house, and on the crockery that is here, some kind of Dutch pattern, bluish tinted with dark blue borders and a blue floral pattern in the center of plates, bowls etc. The perps go to no end of efforts to energetically quantify my interactions with food and beverages and what the colors convey to the food, then inside me, and wherever else it goes. So eating my usual cuisine in the FFF house is a HUGE advance for the perp's research, taking place to 9.5 years since they went beserk/overt on me in 04-2002. No doubt my farmworker colleagues will be all over me tomorrow, as in gangstalking at work, which is getting more ridiculous and blatant, like having the Asian male wander up to me, stand 2' away, go behind me a little more, dither about for another 10 seconds, and then wander off. It usued to be they would pretend to look for something or even make conversation to inject some relevance and a cover story as to what they were doing in my proximity on my lunch break, but no more. Blatant gangstalking and even looking foolish while doing it are part of the scene now.
What is also interesting is that they allowed me to eat basil for the first time this year, as it has always been a fond herbal staple for the aroma alone. And for "some reason" these quesadillas seem to rip open when handling them to reveal the basil. But for "some reason", (read, unabashed mind control) they didn't want me to have any basil until October this year, almost too late in the season to expect any. Some of it was put in the regular dish I eat for lunch and dinner, quesadillas with sprouted grain tortillas.
I stopped at the two grocery stores and Home Depot on the way back, and sure enough, the red dressed gangstalkers and staff were all about me, especially when at the checkout and making a financial transaction, a moment the perps dearly love to harass me over. Naturally, they were ready, with the prior customer purchasing mounds of ground beef, and other meats, (think red colors here), and some other red colored foods. And too, the red fleece vested gangstalker was there in the next checkout, getting the red out, as I term it. Fleece is now the prefered fabric for the gangstalkers, and even the MIB's are decked out in black fleece with soft black fabric arm and shoulder patches, save once, when an 1950's style MIB was on the bus with the black wide brimmed hat and the shaved eyebrows.
This is the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend, so it was a little quieter out at the airport, but in tems of vehicular gangstalking, the perps were full measure for putting on many high hundreds, or even low thousands of gangstalking vehicles, injecting the red colors among silver-grey colored vehicles, though backing off on white colors. Instead, more mid-greys and black colored vehicles, and they were even "daring" enough to have a string of four vehicles, one lead red, a black, a mid-grey and a tailing red to ride beside me for much of the S. bound Hwy 17 into downtown (20 min.). They stuck on me like glue and made sure both lanes were plugged to stop me from getting ahead. And lo, if the perps didn't add an orange vehicle to accompany me for the last 10 minutes, in keeping with their big focus on carrot colors. Also, heavy on the motorcycles today too, the weather cooperating (ahem).
Time to get this posted and done for the week.
A Monday, returning from The First Feral Family house to start work and my overnight bag with its used face cloth in it was at the farm the whole day that I bagged, and participated in the carrot unloading from the hopper truck and the conveyor line work. One can say I am sick of the sight of carrots, though in perp-land that counts for nothing, as they are on a major push to find out why I don't like the color orange. Don't ask me, as my recall was deleted almost entirely from 1956 to 1959, and the subconscious traumatization associations remain. Same for red, yellow, brown. Not my problem, so why in the fuck am I set up for over nine years with all these dumbshit arranged games over colors, not to mention gangstalking and being kept in a rage-ified state due to constant torment?
Amanda Knox walks free after four years in jail, and her statement was wanting her life back. Try nine years of this fucking abuse, being the mind-fuck victim that gets circulated to all manner of stunts, and gets rammed into doing farm work, just so loud noises can be arranged to erupt each time I touch a carrot, pick a squash or anything associated with plant harvesting, pruning, root digging and the rest of it. More bizarre than Amanda herself, but it is ongoing and relentless.
10-04-2011
More bagging carrots, then conveyor line work on unloading carrots, then raspberry picking (with a fake-out for strawberry picking at first, which meant that I had my knee pads on, not really needed for raspberry picking). After lunch, the reverse; readied for raspberry picking I get diverted to strawberry picking, this time the reverse, getting caught out strawberry picking without my kneepads on. The carrot washing again, then carrot bagging.
And these are plastic bags we a putting the carrots in, and have I said how absolutely beserk the perps are when I handle, touch or even look at objects of plastic? Maybe hundreds of times, but it continues; I get to open the brown cardboard box of 500 plastic bags, and then get to pass a half inch thick of them to one carrot bagger who then hands them onto the carrot bagger who made the request. (Naturally, the 5" deep box of plastic bags is kept near me on the carrot bagging line). And too, there are bale bags, larger plastic bags to hold 50lb of 5lb bags, and lo, if the E. Indian handling the bale bags isn't flicking them to get them open when all he has to do is to peel them apart as they have ventilation holes cut in them. (Also good for scads of chads to flutter and fall about).
I stopped work at 1700h, got the 1730h #6 bus, and up to 12 other passengers on it all the way into town. Yet, when I take buses at 1800h to 1930h, I get at least twice that many, save the odd time. It just doesn't add up, save the gangstalking and freakshow imperative.
10-05-2011
Another email hack at my Yahoo account. A recent plundering though, as they accessed my contacts list which hasn't been up for more than six months. They got an email from me promoting Viagra, and then had a link to an attack web site that would clobber your computer if it wasn't protected.
A half day of work at the farm today, the morning spent with the employment counsellor who had some kind of special dispensation to go beyond the usual hour time frame. The perps like to set up expectations and then manipulate the events to have them dashed or unexpectedly altered. In this case, I have met the person some 10x, and the deal is that the appointment is an hour. But today, while not able to look at my watch to keep up the eye contact and not appear rude, I had this sense the meeting should of been over, but it was continuing, him doing all the talking. Finally, I got a sneak look at my watch at 1108h, and then I knew the fix was on.
Anyhow, I got the "red men" gangstalking before and after, these loitering louts with some article of red clothing, often including red shoelaces for crissakes. This one dude was sucking on weed (smoking a cigarette) outside the building entrance to the employment offices, and wearing a red jacket. I get into the elevator and lo, just before the door closes, this sucker comes in, timing his arrival and that of his smoke filled lungs perfectly to catch the elevator before it departed. So... as it "happens" he is going to the second floor too, and he strangely motions me to get out the elevator ahead of him, and then he tails me out and lo, if he isn't going to the same office as me. Just fucking bizarre and very obvious.
l got to the farm at about 1230h, time to have lunch and then start into raspberry picking, and then strawberry picking. Once it was break time, why, I got detailed for helping raise panels as part of the haunted house exhibit. And around 1700h, when traversing through the haunted house maze with two batteries for the drill the carpenter was using, why, the perps forced a "wet fart", as in having me crap my pants. At first I wasn't sure, but it felt different after a few minutes and so it was time to do the honors of cleaning this mess up in the bathroom, and yet again, donate a pair of underwear for the Fuckover cause. After some anxious moments the toilet flushed without backing up, unlike the last time the perps pulled this same stunt at a different farm. So... here we go again, purging brown out of me and have me
go the remainder of the day without underwear. Just plain fucking hilarious, and the Fuckwit who pulled this stunt had better keep their helmet on all the time, lest an errant bat make contact with their head.
Which now changes the "underwear ecology", another perp infatuation of long standing. All the underwear that I own is black colored, which isn't enough. The two sets of one kind, one with a doubled fabric as the waistband/hem had been used almost alternately every day for the past 8 months or so. But now, with one pair gone, it is back to using the elastic waistbanded set, down to five pairs after another shit show at the other farm back in 03-2011. In other words, the elastic waistbanded set will get more use, as it seems the perp's underwear energetics research, or whatever they are studying, has now moved on and they are confident they can apply the determinations of one set to that of the second set. Naturally, the more confortable doubled fabric waistbanded pairs became unavailible when I wanted to get more, and I had to settle for more of the latter set. The underwear battles have been going on for years in many variations to have me purchase new pairs, e.g. waistband "failure", fabric pilling, seam pilling and hem parting and on and on. Not forgetting that one prior set of six, after being purchased, was taken to get altered and the waistbands lowered 2". In this case, the perps had a fabric sample from each pair, as the alterations person never gave me the spare fabric back.
10-07-2011
A farm work day; bagging carrots inside, then outside to help in the potato unloading/washing that got stalled out two days ago when there were no packing boxes for the finished product. And have I ever mentioned how the perps like to disrupt processes and have them re-start days or months later? Many hundreds of times I should think. That they were red potatoes in a green colored trailer, might of aided the perp's color games as well.
Retards on the bus in the morning; the regular 0715 #6 bus N. bound, and instead of the three negroes stunt of last week, why, it is the three retards/Downs or whatever it is. A perp favorite is to add halfwits into the gangstalking mix, but all the more curious they needed three at once.
Another Unfavored/freakshow populations is blind folk; two together on the bus in this evening. Again, it is most curious why they are doubling or tripling the number of Unfavoreds/freaks at the same time.
While at the picnic table at lunchtime at the farm, a woman in a silver grey sedan pulls up and gets out in white pants and a brown coat. She is looking for certain kinds of potatoes, and I get dispatched to help out, wandering all over the coolers with the farmer's son in his red hoodie, looking for specific potato types, though I have no idea where they keep them all. And lo, if this woman isn't hanging over where my pack is kept by the doorway, and blocking egress to it. Which is exactly what my farm co-workers do too at other times. Funny how that "happens", again and again, just with a change of players.
10-08-2011
A farm work day, though I am short on specifics, except to note that we had to re-process both carrots and potatoes this week. That is to say, they were in bins or were packed in 50 lb boxes respectively, and were put through the washing and grading for the second time. The farmer's wife told me that they had 100 tons of boxed potatoes that they couldn't sell as the buyers are annoyed that there is so much rot in the potatoes. Some of it is detectable to us graders on the conveyor line, but she also made it plain that her husband is in too much of a hurry to push the product through and not concerning himself enough with quality. More dysfunction on the farm, and I didn't dig any deeper on that one.
And lo, if the packed potatoes aren't being stored in the massive coolers at the other farm I worked at, 2008 to 03-2011, this year. Kind of interesting, these potatoes making the reverse circuit between the two farms I have worked at. And have I mentioned how the perps seem to be so interested in the provenance of food, and that they like to vary my food sources from time to time, making certain ones are unavailible? Many times.
10-09-2011
2100h
A wrap to gto this blog posted, because if I don't, it will slide another week while keeping the day job as farmworker, or at least, to the end of October is what I am told.
I am staying at the First Feral Family house as my perp abetting mother has left for two weeks in the UK, my out of town brother unexpectedly accompanying her once they meet up in Vancouver, BC. And, almost needless to day, this house is the nexus of perp research and abuse, as whatever they discover here in the way of remotely assayed brain, psychic energies, EMF or whatever the fuck else they are studying me for (food intake, clothing fabrics and colors, associated noises with thoughts or actions etc.), is attempted to be applied elsewhere. Like earlier today, an accompaniment of red colored gangstalking vehicles with silver grey and mid-grey tones while driving my mother to the Victoria airport, then afterward, driving downtown to my place to drop off a new web-ordered coat that was at the FFF house, and pick up some of my regular food that was in my fridge and then drive back to the FFF where I am now typing this up. So what it seems is that they want me to have my usual and same (mostly) cuisine at the FFF house, and on the crockery that is here, some kind of Dutch pattern, bluish tinted with dark blue borders and a blue floral pattern in the center of plates, bowls etc. The perps go to no end of efforts to energetically quantify my interactions with food and beverages and what the colors convey to the food, then inside me, and wherever else it goes. So eating my usual cuisine in the FFF house is a HUGE advance for the perp's research, taking place to 9.5 years since they went beserk/overt on me in 04-2002. No doubt my farmworker colleagues will be all over me tomorrow, as in gangstalking at work, which is getting more ridiculous and blatant, like having the Asian male wander up to me, stand 2' away, go behind me a little more, dither about for another 10 seconds, and then wander off. It usued to be they would pretend to look for something or even make conversation to inject some relevance and a cover story as to what they were doing in my proximity on my lunch break, but no more. Blatant gangstalking and even looking foolish while doing it are part of the scene now.
What is also interesting is that they allowed me to eat basil for the first time this year, as it has always been a fond herbal staple for the aroma alone. And for "some reason" these quesadillas seem to rip open when handling them to reveal the basil. But for "some reason", (read, unabashed mind control) they didn't want me to have any basil until October this year, almost too late in the season to expect any. Some of it was put in the regular dish I eat for lunch and dinner, quesadillas with sprouted grain tortillas.
I stopped at the two grocery stores and Home Depot on the way back, and sure enough, the red dressed gangstalkers and staff were all about me, especially when at the checkout and making a financial transaction, a moment the perps dearly love to harass me over. Naturally, they were ready, with the prior customer purchasing mounds of ground beef, and other meats, (think red colors here), and some other red colored foods. And too, the red fleece vested gangstalker was there in the next checkout, getting the red out, as I term it. Fleece is now the prefered fabric for the gangstalkers, and even the MIB's are decked out in black fleece with soft black fabric arm and shoulder patches, save once, when an 1950's style MIB was on the bus with the black wide brimmed hat and the shaved eyebrows.
This is the Canadian Thanksgiving weekend, so it was a little quieter out at the airport, but in tems of vehicular gangstalking, the perps were full measure for putting on many high hundreds, or even low thousands of gangstalking vehicles, injecting the red colors among silver-grey colored vehicles, though backing off on white colors. Instead, more mid-greys and black colored vehicles, and they were even "daring" enough to have a string of four vehicles, one lead red, a black, a mid-grey and a tailing red to ride beside me for much of the S. bound Hwy 17 into downtown (20 min.). They stuck on me like glue and made sure both lanes were plugged to stop me from getting ahead. And lo, if the perps didn't add an orange vehicle to accompany me for the last 10 minutes, in keeping with their big focus on carrot colors. Also, heavy on the motorcycles today too, the weather cooperating (ahem).
Time to get this posted and done for the week.
Saturday, April 09, 2011
Thumpy Stereo Noise
1150h
Some kind of thumpy stereo music noise is getting throgh my hearing protecting earmuffs, as it seems someone wants me to hear it as I type away. I get a fair number of gangstalkers on the bus looking at their LCD screens on their smartphones and the like, and it does make me wonder if the perps aren't pumping something through these ubiquitous devices. Yesterday while working in the backyard of the First Feral Family house, my in-town brother arrives to take away the plastic garbage bags of weeds I had pulled out in the last two weeks. But first he had to go to the PC in the house and do some looking up, claiming he needed to check out used furniture, his hobby, while there. Once done, he was then in a big hurry in keeping with his act of being parsimonious with his time. Said brother was the one that somehow dumped the soil screenings on the doorway to the garage, giving him an excuse to sweep two kinds of brooms there while I lugged most of the plastic bags. Endless bullshit and faux klutzing. At least the old man is packed away in the old folks home so to relieve everyone of the red wine spilling acts that he would pull when at dinner. In one instance he somehow put the wine 6' up the wall for crissakes. And why do the perps sandbag me with dipshits all the time? A lifelong curse for some curious reason to go with the rest of their insane fuckery, noise and other abuse.
The perps got me riled up for at least 20 rage-ifications this morning, the most egregious being the unbidden eruption of coffee grounds off the spoon as it momentarily was over top of the coffee carafe. No shaking hands, spoon fumbling or any such created excuses this time, just plain blatant teleportation of coffee grounds onto the stove top with an even spread. They went beserk yesterday with over 30 rage-ications at breakfast, with the inaugural opening of the coffee bag seeming to be the highlight of breakfast time abuses. They cannot get enough color exposure games in with coffee, (read, perp brown color obsession), but it is always worse when a new package of ground coffee is opened. They wouldn't let me use the metal tie to seal the package as it was sealed below it, and I couldn't get the seal to separate. It had to be cut off with the scissors, and I had to use a black bulldog clip to seal the bag. This seems to be one of their very favorite items, as at least four differing packages have this to seal them. The zip seals on plastic bags rarely work for me, and often separate off.
Other games with new coffee is to place a white plasma beam inside the bag and over the coffee, much like they do elsewhere if they want either a color contrast, or augmentation. Yesterday, when switching to working over dark colored soil from grass, they put some dark green plasma beams over the soil to continue the color reference of the former background color. Sometimes it is predictable like this, other times the plasma beams come from dark corners, often blue colored ones. Though, they might be switching to red now, as some red plasma beams came from the drain of the sink a few days ago.
1805h
This looks to be a Saturday shut-in day if one excludes the 30' trips down the hallway to the laundry room. Yet again, the underwear got linted in the washing machine, the latest caper that is getting beyond annoying. That "happened" the last load, and I ended up re-laundering just the underwear to get rid of it. Regular readers and TI's will know that the perps have an insane underwear fetish and sabotage need, and laundering plays a big component of it. The simpler explanation is that they want my underwear to have a different energetic signature than the remainder of the clothes, and so they sabotage them to get them re-laundered. The towels are under a similar restriction; they are washed with bedsheets or jeans, or else by themselves, as they somehow throw lint off in the washing machine that ends up on other clothes. I never knew towels to do this, and the last lot did too. The ones before did not.
The enforced restless legs torture this afternoon, where they are made to jump and hops with external pain being applied, a most unpleasant abuse. They wanted me to bookmark jobs but not let me apply for them. I have done this hundreds of times in the case of jobs that didn't get responded to and should of been. As for bookmarking, I am likely over 80,000 since 2003 when I got my PC back together and went online again after they forced me off in 2002.
2020h
The siren noises "joined me" for tea and chocolate about 15 minutes ago, and then repeated while I was cleaning the teapot at the sink. Moving from a seated position to standing is a big deal for the perps, and is constantly noisestalked. In this case my mouth was first full of brown chocolate, and only a few minutes later when cleaning the dishes, there must of been residual chocolate in my mouth for their noise-brown color comparison games, via the same siren noise input.
And speaking of brown, the perps let me take normal non-adverse craps for the last two weeks; no plunging, showers to clean up or other gruesome variations. Alas, it did not last long, as the last two have been adverse events, one requiring me to shower with a new bar of Pear's soap on the heels of the toilet paper roll coming to an end and starting a new one. Quite expected given the management of the sickos around what gets put into my garbage, usually three or more food items finishing up or starting at one meal preparation, with the respective packaging or portions thereof in the garbage together. They just cannot get enough of "packaging confluence" in one's garbage, and that includes toilet rolls.
The big question I have on the vocational front is pondering if the perps are going to repeat last year's spring time cycle, which was to hang me out to dry until early June for strawberry picking. I had a week of daffodil picking last year and then they cut me off, and nothing in the way of work, not even interviews, until I get a phone call from a farm to start strawberry picking. I got extra daffodil picking in this year, into late March, so maybe the perps are going to keep me "on the bench" as they say in consultant firms. (For non-billable dedicated personnel they want to keep on hand). Which is annoying as they already had me dipping into my line of credit, and it took two months to get myself out of that hole they dug in 2008 and 2009. As always, the perps just keep coming back for more, applying the same abuse in different locations or over time.
An interesting plasma flash stunt was pulled after tea-time; they flashed a 2' high x 1' wide red square outline in the kitchen some 8' away for a second or so, and then did it again from outside, behind the safety glass and the curtain. I don't recall them being so very specific as to attenuation of visibility of their plasma light flashes, but they sometimes will project an object in plasma form, offsetting it from the real object by a foot or so.
2300h
More job applications, and overhead clunking erupted as soon as sent off the email, or clicked the "Send" button on a company website. Funny how that happens, those coincident noises at the key action moment.
Enough of the dull and tired litany, and time to blog off.
Some kind of thumpy stereo music noise is getting throgh my hearing protecting earmuffs, as it seems someone wants me to hear it as I type away. I get a fair number of gangstalkers on the bus looking at their LCD screens on their smartphones and the like, and it does make me wonder if the perps aren't pumping something through these ubiquitous devices. Yesterday while working in the backyard of the First Feral Family house, my in-town brother arrives to take away the plastic garbage bags of weeds I had pulled out in the last two weeks. But first he had to go to the PC in the house and do some looking up, claiming he needed to check out used furniture, his hobby, while there. Once done, he was then in a big hurry in keeping with his act of being parsimonious with his time. Said brother was the one that somehow dumped the soil screenings on the doorway to the garage, giving him an excuse to sweep two kinds of brooms there while I lugged most of the plastic bags. Endless bullshit and faux klutzing. At least the old man is packed away in the old folks home so to relieve everyone of the red wine spilling acts that he would pull when at dinner. In one instance he somehow put the wine 6' up the wall for crissakes. And why do the perps sandbag me with dipshits all the time? A lifelong curse for some curious reason to go with the rest of their insane fuckery, noise and other abuse.
The perps got me riled up for at least 20 rage-ifications this morning, the most egregious being the unbidden eruption of coffee grounds off the spoon as it momentarily was over top of the coffee carafe. No shaking hands, spoon fumbling or any such created excuses this time, just plain blatant teleportation of coffee grounds onto the stove top with an even spread. They went beserk yesterday with over 30 rage-ications at breakfast, with the inaugural opening of the coffee bag seeming to be the highlight of breakfast time abuses. They cannot get enough color exposure games in with coffee, (read, perp brown color obsession), but it is always worse when a new package of ground coffee is opened. They wouldn't let me use the metal tie to seal the package as it was sealed below it, and I couldn't get the seal to separate. It had to be cut off with the scissors, and I had to use a black bulldog clip to seal the bag. This seems to be one of their very favorite items, as at least four differing packages have this to seal them. The zip seals on plastic bags rarely work for me, and often separate off.
Other games with new coffee is to place a white plasma beam inside the bag and over the coffee, much like they do elsewhere if they want either a color contrast, or augmentation. Yesterday, when switching to working over dark colored soil from grass, they put some dark green plasma beams over the soil to continue the color reference of the former background color. Sometimes it is predictable like this, other times the plasma beams come from dark corners, often blue colored ones. Though, they might be switching to red now, as some red plasma beams came from the drain of the sink a few days ago.
1805h
This looks to be a Saturday shut-in day if one excludes the 30' trips down the hallway to the laundry room. Yet again, the underwear got linted in the washing machine, the latest caper that is getting beyond annoying. That "happened" the last load, and I ended up re-laundering just the underwear to get rid of it. Regular readers and TI's will know that the perps have an insane underwear fetish and sabotage need, and laundering plays a big component of it. The simpler explanation is that they want my underwear to have a different energetic signature than the remainder of the clothes, and so they sabotage them to get them re-laundered. The towels are under a similar restriction; they are washed with bedsheets or jeans, or else by themselves, as they somehow throw lint off in the washing machine that ends up on other clothes. I never knew towels to do this, and the last lot did too. The ones before did not.
The enforced restless legs torture this afternoon, where they are made to jump and hops with external pain being applied, a most unpleasant abuse. They wanted me to bookmark jobs but not let me apply for them. I have done this hundreds of times in the case of jobs that didn't get responded to and should of been. As for bookmarking, I am likely over 80,000 since 2003 when I got my PC back together and went online again after they forced me off in 2002.
2020h
The siren noises "joined me" for tea and chocolate about 15 minutes ago, and then repeated while I was cleaning the teapot at the sink. Moving from a seated position to standing is a big deal for the perps, and is constantly noisestalked. In this case my mouth was first full of brown chocolate, and only a few minutes later when cleaning the dishes, there must of been residual chocolate in my mouth for their noise-brown color comparison games, via the same siren noise input.
And speaking of brown, the perps let me take normal non-adverse craps for the last two weeks; no plunging, showers to clean up or other gruesome variations. Alas, it did not last long, as the last two have been adverse events, one requiring me to shower with a new bar of Pear's soap on the heels of the toilet paper roll coming to an end and starting a new one. Quite expected given the management of the sickos around what gets put into my garbage, usually three or more food items finishing up or starting at one meal preparation, with the respective packaging or portions thereof in the garbage together. They just cannot get enough of "packaging confluence" in one's garbage, and that includes toilet rolls.
The big question I have on the vocational front is pondering if the perps are going to repeat last year's spring time cycle, which was to hang me out to dry until early June for strawberry picking. I had a week of daffodil picking last year and then they cut me off, and nothing in the way of work, not even interviews, until I get a phone call from a farm to start strawberry picking. I got extra daffodil picking in this year, into late March, so maybe the perps are going to keep me "on the bench" as they say in consultant firms. (For non-billable dedicated personnel they want to keep on hand). Which is annoying as they already had me dipping into my line of credit, and it took two months to get myself out of that hole they dug in 2008 and 2009. As always, the perps just keep coming back for more, applying the same abuse in different locations or over time.
An interesting plasma flash stunt was pulled after tea-time; they flashed a 2' high x 1' wide red square outline in the kitchen some 8' away for a second or so, and then did it again from outside, behind the safety glass and the curtain. I don't recall them being so very specific as to attenuation of visibility of their plasma light flashes, but they sometimes will project an object in plasma form, offsetting it from the real object by a foot or so.
2300h
More job applications, and overhead clunking erupted as soon as sent off the email, or clicked the "Send" button on a company website. Funny how that happens, those coincident noises at the key action moment.
Enough of the dull and tired litany, and time to blog off.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Sudden Attention
1110h
A ridculous phone call from my in-town brother to get me out of bed at 0900h. He was asking me if I was going to come over and rake leaves, and then said there wasn't many leaves to rake. And I told him last week when leaf raking at his place that I would come in two weeks. Like WTF; can we make this any more stupid? (The perps' answer to that is always "yes", and my answer is "sorry I asked".)
At least two hours of forced sleeplessness after getting to bed at 0100h or later. All these fantasical themes, the same ones for years now, keep getting replayed with some add-on variants to see if my common sense detector is accepting of them for inclusion or not. I won't get into all of this, but I am not the only TI with planted ideations that don't serve the present reality.
One of late is that I am to take on a laboring job in a northern camp, getting flown in and out every two weeks. Well, OK, I did work in camps when in my 20's, but every laboring job I have applied for in the past three years has got me nowhere, zip, squat. So why would they want to take on a 56 y.o. construction laboring newbie (in good shape) to a remote camp for crissakes? And the Great Job Fairy will come tonight and explain it all to me. Absurd. On with the nut grind, as in compressed genitals and other manipulations unbidden by me.
Other outside interaction confluences this morning are the ex and daughter are in downtown and have invited me to lunch. So, only diagonal from my bank, and likely following a check deposit, I get to sit and eat nearby for an hour or so, though a very busy intersection. Obviously all my 100's of bus waits at that same intersection of the past few years aren't enough; bring on the freaks du jour.
Then my long standing order (6 weeks) for some decent crockery finally arrived today, so I will doubtless pick that up after lunch, and have the digesting meal duly gangstalked by the freakshow for extra mileage. At least that one will be completed and I get to have some small plates that have a base that doesn't wobble, and bowls that don't suddenly stain after eight years of being OK. Basis things like crockery, glaze color, ceramic clay source and the rest of it are all important to the perps, and this too is a big advent in their ongoing games of seeming food digestion energetics studies they are engaging in, as only one facet of many hundreds of objectives they are up to.
Related to that is the new found use of coconut oil for cooking, and having olive oil only for salad. Normally, the olive oil was used for both, but after eight years of hounding my ass, they now want to change it up. The coconut obsession was duly planted in mind some 10 months ago or more, thats all of it in its components; nut butter, now coconut oil, and soon to be coconut flour. (Not that I bake or anything, but as they have duly supplied me with new (yet, unused) measuring cups and spoons, no doubt there will be a sudden eruption of baking sometime in the new year.
A phone call also to tell me that my one right lens of my eyeglasses will be ready to install two days from now, another oddity in that one lens "somehow" gradually lost some of its coating over the past two years. A plastic lens, and it will have a different energetic signature from the left one, so who knows what the grand plan is there, but they are obviously working on something there. Along with forcing me to get blue tinted lens cleaning solution a month ago.
Then another perp obsession is my underwear, and the delivery of a new set of six pairs yesterday and the freakshow outside some 30 minutes later after opening the parcel and reading the enclosed catalog. Well today I was allowed to launder all six pairs with the very last of the Tide Free detergent, and tossed out the jug in the trash bin in the laundry room. And last week, a skunk (sudden shortage) on Tide Free at the LD store, so a new alternative detergent is now readied for whatever energetic comparision games that are to unfold with respect to all my clothes, and especially their underwear obsession.
And have I detailed the above perps' ongoing obsessions in sufficient detail as to all my financial transactions, laundry, crockery and flatware, food intake and especially food oils, plastics and especially those used in packaging and every other possible aspect of my existence? For the regular readers, let me know if the above ramble seems to be disjunct in any way.
1435h
A three stop visitation to downtown, the second being lunch with the ex and our daughter, who works downtown on Wednesdays I learned today. Thanks for dropping by all this time (since 09-2010). Nice lunch, plenty of blonde babes tripping by, and the odd dude following, and four blondes in the next booth. A near-skinhead male waiter for us though, seemingly the test bait while I was being monoitored for my traumatization reaction with respect to males it would seem. Then at least two brunettes inserted into the "walk by" mix one taller in a black top with a deep cut back to fantasize over. Then a smaller one tripped by in a mid-grey top with a smaller deep cut back and lo, if she wasn't the tattoo bait with a spread of 1/2" spots on her back. Different tattoo for sure, and not a lineal pattern that I can detect. As before, males, tattoos and many others are part of the Unfavored demographics/human conditions, and both likely figured in traumatization experiences during the recall wiped years, when aged 3 to 5. At least, that is the current working model to account for some of the perps' bizarre obsessions about planting the Unfavored in view, and in association with attractive blondes (Favored) and other females, though blondes seem to be the entre, the Most Favored demographic group.
A stop at the ATM across the street before having lunch, my dude pair "joining me", as in getting too fucking close at the crosswalk and then tailing me into the bank from the opposite crosswalk corner. Ditto for afterward when I went to the kitchen shop to get my crockery, (three soup bowls, one larger bowl, and four salad plates), two dudes were standing and chatting3' away for no fucking reason while transacting, including another 2x debit card read, as it "happened" to time out. It would seem they want dude-talk to ensure while I made a financial transaction. At least with this cold weather I don't see any more dudes in the ridiculous faux plaid patterned shorts, though I am sure this dumbshit gangstalker dress code will resurface in short order.
Then the freak parade on the way back, crockery in the white paper bag I was carrying, with brown colored cardboard to separate the bowls and plates. Freaks were again from the Unfavored demographic groups; fat people, shiftless dudes, vagrant dudes, skinhead dudes, wheelchair acts, and the redcoats in great quantity, having sat on a red bench while having lunch. So it goes. Then battles with the sticky labels on the new dishes, getting them off; the plates were problematic, but for some reason the identical stickers were not a problem for the bowls. And per usual nowadays, getting these stickers to fall off my fingers was at least a 80% rage-fication event, in keeping with like games that escalated a year ago with respect to sticky things, or now, even dental floss magically sticks to the underside of my hand and won't drop into the garbage can below. Go figure.
I am now back at Abuse Central, and I don't expect to be going out for anything else so that would replicate much of yesterday. After a week of research and coveting, the perps did finally let me order a two hard drive docking station that allows for backups of this PC, something they have me paranoid over for the past few weeks. Another financial transaction, and the perps do like to run me to have them clustered in one day, in differing locations, and differing kinds; deposit, payment at a store, payment online afterward.
1610h
To keep the transaction games going, I put in my Newegg order for some modest hardware to back this PC up, hopefully without worry this time. And lo, if my order didn't get split into two orders somehow, and that the live chat person cannot combine them as originally intended. I have no idea how that happened, but it seemed the perps wanted me know that they fucked with the shipping method for each of the two items. Then some BS from the live chat person that they couldn't combine them because they have so many different warehouses etc. LIke WTF; I have had12 item orders before, and they never got split up, and this time I order two items, and poof, it "happens". Like I say, if there is any detail whatsoever to fuck with when it comes to making a financial transaction, you can be sure the perps are busy on testing these variants, code for planned fuckup stunts.
And the new and the old crockery are having a "together moment", the new crockery's sticky labels were removed with a chemical cleaner and my right thumb nail to scrape it away, while the kettle was on the boil. Then tea making, and lo, if the new plates were in the dishes rack and the old ones weren't put to use for one last time, within 2' proximity of the new ones. All very exciting for the perps, especially adding a "chemical ether" signature to the plates, the Goo Gone residue, even if cleaned off. One bowl also got tagged in the same way, while two more were fine. And one bowl was purchased some three months ago, so I am sure all the plastic dishes brush cleaning it had will be very important to compare to today's new bowls of the same make and shape. Ditto on the underwear; one pair was purchased eight months ago, and then the remainder per above
2220h
More interleaving of the old crockery and the old underwear, both ended up in the garbage together while making dinner, as the former was getting in the way of dinner preparations, and the storing the new crockery. And as the underwear had been drying on the dry rack, it got dealt with during a break while making dinner, also put in the same drawer location as the old ones. It helps the perps that I have very little extra space in this place, and therefore, new replaces old in the identical location, and the old items end up in the garbage together with some of the food and packaging waste. After dinner, the perps had me hand pack the garbage out, along with four cardboard boxes that were aggregating under the sink for recycle disposal. The were recent purchases; UML books last week, the new shoe box last week, the underwear box from yesterday, and the salad plate box from today. All these aggregations of brown cardboard boxes are decidedly important for the perps, as this seems to be an intended benchmark color they want to inculcate me with.
Anyhow, enough of the aburd details of what is going on in the garbage toay, and to call this posting done, and maybe an early night tonight and no more 0100h staying up, which seems to be a prerequisite for the perps keeping me awake for longer when I get into bed.
A ridculous phone call from my in-town brother to get me out of bed at 0900h. He was asking me if I was going to come over and rake leaves, and then said there wasn't many leaves to rake. And I told him last week when leaf raking at his place that I would come in two weeks. Like WTF; can we make this any more stupid? (The perps' answer to that is always "yes", and my answer is "sorry I asked".)
At least two hours of forced sleeplessness after getting to bed at 0100h or later. All these fantasical themes, the same ones for years now, keep getting replayed with some add-on variants to see if my common sense detector is accepting of them for inclusion or not. I won't get into all of this, but I am not the only TI with planted ideations that don't serve the present reality.
One of late is that I am to take on a laboring job in a northern camp, getting flown in and out every two weeks. Well, OK, I did work in camps when in my 20's, but every laboring job I have applied for in the past three years has got me nowhere, zip, squat. So why would they want to take on a 56 y.o. construction laboring newbie (in good shape) to a remote camp for crissakes? And the Great Job Fairy will come tonight and explain it all to me. Absurd. On with the nut grind, as in compressed genitals and other manipulations unbidden by me.
Other outside interaction confluences this morning are the ex and daughter are in downtown and have invited me to lunch. So, only diagonal from my bank, and likely following a check deposit, I get to sit and eat nearby for an hour or so, though a very busy intersection. Obviously all my 100's of bus waits at that same intersection of the past few years aren't enough; bring on the freaks du jour.
Then my long standing order (6 weeks) for some decent crockery finally arrived today, so I will doubtless pick that up after lunch, and have the digesting meal duly gangstalked by the freakshow for extra mileage. At least that one will be completed and I get to have some small plates that have a base that doesn't wobble, and bowls that don't suddenly stain after eight years of being OK. Basis things like crockery, glaze color, ceramic clay source and the rest of it are all important to the perps, and this too is a big advent in their ongoing games of seeming food digestion energetics studies they are engaging in, as only one facet of many hundreds of objectives they are up to.
Related to that is the new found use of coconut oil for cooking, and having olive oil only for salad. Normally, the olive oil was used for both, but after eight years of hounding my ass, they now want to change it up. The coconut obsession was duly planted in mind some 10 months ago or more, thats all of it in its components; nut butter, now coconut oil, and soon to be coconut flour. (Not that I bake or anything, but as they have duly supplied me with new (yet, unused) measuring cups and spoons, no doubt there will be a sudden eruption of baking sometime in the new year.
A phone call also to tell me that my one right lens of my eyeglasses will be ready to install two days from now, another oddity in that one lens "somehow" gradually lost some of its coating over the past two years. A plastic lens, and it will have a different energetic signature from the left one, so who knows what the grand plan is there, but they are obviously working on something there. Along with forcing me to get blue tinted lens cleaning solution a month ago.
Then another perp obsession is my underwear, and the delivery of a new set of six pairs yesterday and the freakshow outside some 30 minutes later after opening the parcel and reading the enclosed catalog. Well today I was allowed to launder all six pairs with the very last of the Tide Free detergent, and tossed out the jug in the trash bin in the laundry room. And last week, a skunk (sudden shortage) on Tide Free at the LD store, so a new alternative detergent is now readied for whatever energetic comparision games that are to unfold with respect to all my clothes, and especially their underwear obsession.
And have I detailed the above perps' ongoing obsessions in sufficient detail as to all my financial transactions, laundry, crockery and flatware, food intake and especially food oils, plastics and especially those used in packaging and every other possible aspect of my existence? For the regular readers, let me know if the above ramble seems to be disjunct in any way.
1435h
A three stop visitation to downtown, the second being lunch with the ex and our daughter, who works downtown on Wednesdays I learned today. Thanks for dropping by all this time (since 09-2010). Nice lunch, plenty of blonde babes tripping by, and the odd dude following, and four blondes in the next booth. A near-skinhead male waiter for us though, seemingly the test bait while I was being monoitored for my traumatization reaction with respect to males it would seem. Then at least two brunettes inserted into the "walk by" mix one taller in a black top with a deep cut back to fantasize over. Then a smaller one tripped by in a mid-grey top with a smaller deep cut back and lo, if she wasn't the tattoo bait with a spread of 1/2" spots on her back. Different tattoo for sure, and not a lineal pattern that I can detect. As before, males, tattoos and many others are part of the Unfavored demographics/human conditions, and both likely figured in traumatization experiences during the recall wiped years, when aged 3 to 5. At least, that is the current working model to account for some of the perps' bizarre obsessions about planting the Unfavored in view, and in association with attractive blondes (Favored) and other females, though blondes seem to be the entre, the Most Favored demographic group.
A stop at the ATM across the street before having lunch, my dude pair "joining me", as in getting too fucking close at the crosswalk and then tailing me into the bank from the opposite crosswalk corner. Ditto for afterward when I went to the kitchen shop to get my crockery, (three soup bowls, one larger bowl, and four salad plates), two dudes were standing and chatting3' away for no fucking reason while transacting, including another 2x debit card read, as it "happened" to time out. It would seem they want dude-talk to ensure while I made a financial transaction. At least with this cold weather I don't see any more dudes in the ridiculous faux plaid patterned shorts, though I am sure this dumbshit gangstalker dress code will resurface in short order.
Then the freak parade on the way back, crockery in the white paper bag I was carrying, with brown colored cardboard to separate the bowls and plates. Freaks were again from the Unfavored demographic groups; fat people, shiftless dudes, vagrant dudes, skinhead dudes, wheelchair acts, and the redcoats in great quantity, having sat on a red bench while having lunch. So it goes. Then battles with the sticky labels on the new dishes, getting them off; the plates were problematic, but for some reason the identical stickers were not a problem for the bowls. And per usual nowadays, getting these stickers to fall off my fingers was at least a 80% rage-fication event, in keeping with like games that escalated a year ago with respect to sticky things, or now, even dental floss magically sticks to the underside of my hand and won't drop into the garbage can below. Go figure.
I am now back at Abuse Central, and I don't expect to be going out for anything else so that would replicate much of yesterday. After a week of research and coveting, the perps did finally let me order a two hard drive docking station that allows for backups of this PC, something they have me paranoid over for the past few weeks. Another financial transaction, and the perps do like to run me to have them clustered in one day, in differing locations, and differing kinds; deposit, payment at a store, payment online afterward.
1610h
To keep the transaction games going, I put in my Newegg order for some modest hardware to back this PC up, hopefully without worry this time. And lo, if my order didn't get split into two orders somehow, and that the live chat person cannot combine them as originally intended. I have no idea how that happened, but it seemed the perps wanted me know that they fucked with the shipping method for each of the two items. Then some BS from the live chat person that they couldn't combine them because they have so many different warehouses etc. LIke WTF; I have had12 item orders before, and they never got split up, and this time I order two items, and poof, it "happens". Like I say, if there is any detail whatsoever to fuck with when it comes to making a financial transaction, you can be sure the perps are busy on testing these variants, code for planned fuckup stunts.
And the new and the old crockery are having a "together moment", the new crockery's sticky labels were removed with a chemical cleaner and my right thumb nail to scrape it away, while the kettle was on the boil. Then tea making, and lo, if the new plates were in the dishes rack and the old ones weren't put to use for one last time, within 2' proximity of the new ones. All very exciting for the perps, especially adding a "chemical ether" signature to the plates, the Goo Gone residue, even if cleaned off. One bowl also got tagged in the same way, while two more were fine. And one bowl was purchased some three months ago, so I am sure all the plastic dishes brush cleaning it had will be very important to compare to today's new bowls of the same make and shape. Ditto on the underwear; one pair was purchased eight months ago, and then the remainder per above
2220h
More interleaving of the old crockery and the old underwear, both ended up in the garbage together while making dinner, as the former was getting in the way of dinner preparations, and the storing the new crockery. And as the underwear had been drying on the dry rack, it got dealt with during a break while making dinner, also put in the same drawer location as the old ones. It helps the perps that I have very little extra space in this place, and therefore, new replaces old in the identical location, and the old items end up in the garbage together with some of the food and packaging waste. After dinner, the perps had me hand pack the garbage out, along with four cardboard boxes that were aggregating under the sink for recycle disposal. The were recent purchases; UML books last week, the new shoe box last week, the underwear box from yesterday, and the salad plate box from today. All these aggregations of brown cardboard boxes are decidedly important for the perps, as this seems to be an intended benchmark color they want to inculcate me with.
Anyhow, enough of the aburd details of what is going on in the garbage toay, and to call this posting done, and maybe an early night tonight and no more 0100h staying up, which seems to be a prerequisite for the perps keeping me awake for longer when I get into bed.
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
Coffee Mess
1005h
A major four minute screaming rage show at breakfast this morning when coffee grounds arrived from nowhere and spewed over the counter when I put the bag down. Three spewings in fact as I attempted to move the bag out of the mess I got another. I checked the end of the bag for splits or holes and there was none. This is the most egregious fuckery yet over their coffee grounds messes, but they wanted me rage-ified big time, and thats what they got. I had to hold the bag over the sink to avoid more spills while I spooned coffee out of the bag and then kept the bag under the spoon as it was transfered from sink to stovetop where the coffee pot was. And while the forced rage show was going on, they flew my mouth contents onto the counter into the coffee mess, thereby integrating the prior cereal course with the next beverage course outside of my mouth. The flying food games, putatively from my mouth even if it is not open, have increased of late, and this was another escalation of this insane fucking game they have been playing in various guises. I get a significant number of street spitting gangstalkers around me, and one co-worker who was also a heavy spitter. (And who complained to the foreman about someone spitting more that he did).
I get plenty of coffee bearing gangstalkers out in public as well, even if they are walking toward a Starbucks with a Starbucks coffee in hand. My out-of-town brother when he was younger had this habit of making a coffee mess on the counter after I cleaned the kitchen like it never has had before. I could never figure out why he made the mess and then left it there, but now I know, coffee, like so many things brown colored, serves as an outside reference color for the brown substances inside the human body, which is the prime research subject after their remotel and dynamically applied mind control agenda. Said brother was accorded the nickname of "Coffee Mess" for the longest time, and it is most odd that this bullshit now erupts in my own place some 30 years later.
There are also other coffee ground messes; each cleaning of the breakfast dishes where there is no residual coffee grounds is accompanied by the arrival of a small amount of grounds. Said grounds are 10x the size of the powdery coffee grind that I get at the store, so where in the fuck do they come from? Ditto for the putative grounds that arrive in the shelves around the coffee pot and filter stem, and the shelf below it. I cleaned the latter last week, free of the imposed coffee grounds mess, and there was a mess in the same location the next day. None of this incremental accretion games this time, no sir, blatant teleportation of fucking mess is now permissible by whatever rules czar/rationale they subscribe to.
When a major Fuckover show like above erupts, there is the tendency to examine what other exceptional events have occured recently. And lo, if there wasn't a nut shave last night, the first in two weeks (usually a once per week event) with the Schick three blade razor, due to the fact that the two blade razor inserts were stolen. It was the second use of this razor after it sat on the steel cabinet for the past two weeks, so this "fallow time" might of been important. The trend is that they shorten up the "fallow time" over some months, working back in decreasing iterations. Also, this Schick razor insert has one green and one yellow teflon rub bar instead of the Gillette white colored one, and that too might be of great consequence for the assholes, which I will find out when I head out. One outing will be meeting my perp abetting mother at lunch time today. And plenty of outside noise while nut shaving; hallway voices, constant elevator noise, (unabated even after the second one was now operative late last week), loud mufflered vehicles from the street and others. Also, like last time, some black fluffy lint arrived in the bathtub, coming from nowhere, as it was clean of any debris before I got in.
1215h
I went out at 1100h expecting the streets and grocry store to be relatively calm, as in low gangstalker count, but no such luck. They were all over me outside with a posse on each side of the street all heading the same direction as I was. My white haired older woman in brown colored clothing gangstalker was there at the corner, and tailed me into the supermarket. Then she "happened" to be in the aisle that was my alternative to a heavily gangstalked aisle, and lo, if she wasn't on the street again, tailing me after doing a right angle route through the parking lot. And still tailing me when crossing the street,and when I was stopped at the intersectionshe was passing behind me way too close, and also holding a square of chocolate in her hand that was closest to me. Talk about brown on brown, but also chocolate on chocolate as I had six Ritter Sport bars and a jar of chocolate spread in my shopping bag.
The cashier was doing a major pondering over the chocolate spread, asking me questions about it, as it seems she didn't know much about it she claimed. "Better than Nutella and no hydrogenated fats either" says me, likely as part of the game to have me vocalize before and during paying by debit card.
As I entered the grocery store there was a display to constrain egress and it just "happened" to be the location where two rude-dudes, one a skinhead, were in deep conversation. The skinhead had to also do his waving and pointing and lo, if his arm wasn't full of disgusting tattoos. I now loathe the sight of tattoos, a "reaction" the perps have given me since about 2004 or so, and lo, if there wasn't this ugly Fuckwit posted and waving his arms about like I see so many perps sickos do. (If you follow Eastern medicine and the energy meridian concept, you will know that many of these energy meridians terminate in the hands. So it would seem that they are waving these energy meridians around in a space that I am to walk through, after doing the excuse me for these fucking dolts obstructing egress).
Besides the brown granny mentioned above, I got three Asian males hounding me at one corner where the chocolate bars were, and then getting past them the aisle was beset with at least four gangstalkers doing the "pretend shopping" act, and so I take an alternate route to get the chocolate spread. And as soon as I pick it up a goonish skinhead was bearing down on me. Then more obvious non-shopping lollygagging Fuckwits ahead of me to slow me down to get to the goat milk, with two posted gangstalkers there. Then onto the produce section with another Fuckwit semi-negro woman adroitly stepping into the aisle I was about to take, presumably to slow me down again, and then when the pre-mixed salad was chosen, it was off to the availible cashier to get the fuck out of the store. The cashier had a tattoo she "happened" to show me, immediately before putting in my debit password, and once done, two women were obstructing egress for me to get out. Once past them, a huge yellow Hummer was backing up into the parking lot, about to encroach on my walking route, so I had to wait for that, and then walk through the area over which it had driven. In the long past, the perps would often have an ambulatory gangstalker walk through the parking stall I had just vacated when I had my vehicle until mid-2006. So I suppose having me walk over the top of where vehicles have driven, e.g. traffic intersections, is still part of their research methods of attempting to get over top, (or under with road works and cable installations), of every step I make.
1340h
The overhead rumbling and squeaking noise has started up immediately upon my return from lunch. The same noise started up when I got back from the above shopping trip, brief as it was, 10 min. round trip. Funny how they use the same noisestalking noise for the same event. As in NOT; there are no coincidences in this existence when one is managed down to the last thought. The only neural function they seem to pay significant attention to is attention shifting, which will beget various combinations of maser strikes on my face, noisestalkings (including internal mouth or jaw noise unbidden by me), light or shadow flashes, transient vision perturbations and a few other incursions that don't come to mind.
And lunch out with my mother, who made sure that I knew that the surge of Fuckwits at the counter came on after I arrived and we ordered. The usual long hair males, males in dumb shorts, plus interjections of babes as a diversion/pleasant view for comparison to the parading males. The better looking the babe, the more back and forths she did.
1700h
The Kevlar gloves arrived today; I was told it would arrive via Purolater, and lo, if it wasn't UPS, a perp classic bait-and-switcth stunt. And they are yellow colored, but that wasn't good enough, aa one glove has a different yellow back than its front and the other glove. In other words, one side of one glove has been given the extra different yellow treatment, faux discoloration. And to make it all the more versatile from the harassment variations perspective, why, both gloves are identical, fitting each hand the same, and so this one different color "back" can now also be the front and also be put on the other hand. Well planned from the yellow color variation perspective, and only one more example of the insane level of dumbshit fuckery that goes on in this orchestrated existence.
On another front in this same meilieu, the underwear replacement plans got changed on me. The two year old underwear is looking very worn, and I was going to get a synthethic moisture wicking fabric type from the outdoors coop. I even purchased both a medium and a small pair, and found the latter wit the best fit, and now it is not availble. Today's visit to the store didn't help, as it was all changed around and I could not find the section anymore. But as underwear is a top perp managed clothing item, I am not too surprised the assholes pulled them from my purchase intentions, as obtaining the right kind and size has been a jerkaround each time I go through this process. The last set has to be taken to an alterations store to have 2" of the waist height removed to make them more confortable. And of course, give the perps a fabric swatch from each pair.
Here is what I gleaned from the Dr. John C Lily site;
A major four minute screaming rage show at breakfast this morning when coffee grounds arrived from nowhere and spewed over the counter when I put the bag down. Three spewings in fact as I attempted to move the bag out of the mess I got another. I checked the end of the bag for splits or holes and there was none. This is the most egregious fuckery yet over their coffee grounds messes, but they wanted me rage-ified big time, and thats what they got. I had to hold the bag over the sink to avoid more spills while I spooned coffee out of the bag and then kept the bag under the spoon as it was transfered from sink to stovetop where the coffee pot was. And while the forced rage show was going on, they flew my mouth contents onto the counter into the coffee mess, thereby integrating the prior cereal course with the next beverage course outside of my mouth. The flying food games, putatively from my mouth even if it is not open, have increased of late, and this was another escalation of this insane fucking game they have been playing in various guises. I get a significant number of street spitting gangstalkers around me, and one co-worker who was also a heavy spitter. (And who complained to the foreman about someone spitting more that he did).
I get plenty of coffee bearing gangstalkers out in public as well, even if they are walking toward a Starbucks with a Starbucks coffee in hand. My out-of-town brother when he was younger had this habit of making a coffee mess on the counter after I cleaned the kitchen like it never has had before. I could never figure out why he made the mess and then left it there, but now I know, coffee, like so many things brown colored, serves as an outside reference color for the brown substances inside the human body, which is the prime research subject after their remotel and dynamically applied mind control agenda. Said brother was accorded the nickname of "Coffee Mess" for the longest time, and it is most odd that this bullshit now erupts in my own place some 30 years later.
There are also other coffee ground messes; each cleaning of the breakfast dishes where there is no residual coffee grounds is accompanied by the arrival of a small amount of grounds. Said grounds are 10x the size of the powdery coffee grind that I get at the store, so where in the fuck do they come from? Ditto for the putative grounds that arrive in the shelves around the coffee pot and filter stem, and the shelf below it. I cleaned the latter last week, free of the imposed coffee grounds mess, and there was a mess in the same location the next day. None of this incremental accretion games this time, no sir, blatant teleportation of fucking mess is now permissible by whatever rules czar/rationale they subscribe to.
When a major Fuckover show like above erupts, there is the tendency to examine what other exceptional events have occured recently. And lo, if there wasn't a nut shave last night, the first in two weeks (usually a once per week event) with the Schick three blade razor, due to the fact that the two blade razor inserts were stolen. It was the second use of this razor after it sat on the steel cabinet for the past two weeks, so this "fallow time" might of been important. The trend is that they shorten up the "fallow time" over some months, working back in decreasing iterations. Also, this Schick razor insert has one green and one yellow teflon rub bar instead of the Gillette white colored one, and that too might be of great consequence for the assholes, which I will find out when I head out. One outing will be meeting my perp abetting mother at lunch time today. And plenty of outside noise while nut shaving; hallway voices, constant elevator noise, (unabated even after the second one was now operative late last week), loud mufflered vehicles from the street and others. Also, like last time, some black fluffy lint arrived in the bathtub, coming from nowhere, as it was clean of any debris before I got in.
1215h
I went out at 1100h expecting the streets and grocry store to be relatively calm, as in low gangstalker count, but no such luck. They were all over me outside with a posse on each side of the street all heading the same direction as I was. My white haired older woman in brown colored clothing gangstalker was there at the corner, and tailed me into the supermarket. Then she "happened" to be in the aisle that was my alternative to a heavily gangstalked aisle, and lo, if she wasn't on the street again, tailing me after doing a right angle route through the parking lot. And still tailing me when crossing the street,and when I was stopped at the intersectionshe was passing behind me way too close, and also holding a square of chocolate in her hand that was closest to me. Talk about brown on brown, but also chocolate on chocolate as I had six Ritter Sport bars and a jar of chocolate spread in my shopping bag.
The cashier was doing a major pondering over the chocolate spread, asking me questions about it, as it seems she didn't know much about it she claimed. "Better than Nutella and no hydrogenated fats either" says me, likely as part of the game to have me vocalize before and during paying by debit card.
As I entered the grocery store there was a display to constrain egress and it just "happened" to be the location where two rude-dudes, one a skinhead, were in deep conversation. The skinhead had to also do his waving and pointing and lo, if his arm wasn't full of disgusting tattoos. I now loathe the sight of tattoos, a "reaction" the perps have given me since about 2004 or so, and lo, if there wasn't this ugly Fuckwit posted and waving his arms about like I see so many perps sickos do. (If you follow Eastern medicine and the energy meridian concept, you will know that many of these energy meridians terminate in the hands. So it would seem that they are waving these energy meridians around in a space that I am to walk through, after doing the excuse me for these fucking dolts obstructing egress).
Besides the brown granny mentioned above, I got three Asian males hounding me at one corner where the chocolate bars were, and then getting past them the aisle was beset with at least four gangstalkers doing the "pretend shopping" act, and so I take an alternate route to get the chocolate spread. And as soon as I pick it up a goonish skinhead was bearing down on me. Then more obvious non-shopping lollygagging Fuckwits ahead of me to slow me down to get to the goat milk, with two posted gangstalkers there. Then onto the produce section with another Fuckwit semi-negro woman adroitly stepping into the aisle I was about to take, presumably to slow me down again, and then when the pre-mixed salad was chosen, it was off to the availible cashier to get the fuck out of the store. The cashier had a tattoo she "happened" to show me, immediately before putting in my debit password, and once done, two women were obstructing egress for me to get out. Once past them, a huge yellow Hummer was backing up into the parking lot, about to encroach on my walking route, so I had to wait for that, and then walk through the area over which it had driven. In the long past, the perps would often have an ambulatory gangstalker walk through the parking stall I had just vacated when I had my vehicle until mid-2006. So I suppose having me walk over the top of where vehicles have driven, e.g. traffic intersections, is still part of their research methods of attempting to get over top, (or under with road works and cable installations), of every step I make.
1340h
The overhead rumbling and squeaking noise has started up immediately upon my return from lunch. The same noise started up when I got back from the above shopping trip, brief as it was, 10 min. round trip. Funny how they use the same noisestalking noise for the same event. As in NOT; there are no coincidences in this existence when one is managed down to the last thought. The only neural function they seem to pay significant attention to is attention shifting, which will beget various combinations of maser strikes on my face, noisestalkings (including internal mouth or jaw noise unbidden by me), light or shadow flashes, transient vision perturbations and a few other incursions that don't come to mind.
And lunch out with my mother, who made sure that I knew that the surge of Fuckwits at the counter came on after I arrived and we ordered. The usual long hair males, males in dumb shorts, plus interjections of babes as a diversion/pleasant view for comparison to the parading males. The better looking the babe, the more back and forths she did.
1700h
The Kevlar gloves arrived today; I was told it would arrive via Purolater, and lo, if it wasn't UPS, a perp classic bait-and-switcth stunt. And they are yellow colored, but that wasn't good enough, aa one glove has a different yellow back than its front and the other glove. In other words, one side of one glove has been given the extra different yellow treatment, faux discoloration. And to make it all the more versatile from the harassment variations perspective, why, both gloves are identical, fitting each hand the same, and so this one different color "back" can now also be the front and also be put on the other hand. Well planned from the yellow color variation perspective, and only one more example of the insane level of dumbshit fuckery that goes on in this orchestrated existence.
On another front in this same meilieu, the underwear replacement plans got changed on me. The two year old underwear is looking very worn, and I was going to get a synthethic moisture wicking fabric type from the outdoors coop. I even purchased both a medium and a small pair, and found the latter wit the best fit, and now it is not availble. Today's visit to the store didn't help, as it was all changed around and I could not find the section anymore. But as underwear is a top perp managed clothing item, I am not too surprised the assholes pulled them from my purchase intentions, as obtaining the right kind and size has been a jerkaround each time I go through this process. The last set has to be taken to an alterations store to have 2" of the waist height removed to make them more confortable. And of course, give the perps a fabric swatch from each pair.
Here is what I gleaned from the Dr. John C Lily site;
Earth Coincidence Control Office (E.C.C.O.)
-Description
"In ones life there can be peculiarly appropriate chains of related events that lead to consequences that are strongly desired. After such experiences, one wonders how such a series of events developed;
sometimes there is a strong feeling that some intelligence (greater than ours) directed the course along certain lines which It/He/She was/is programming. Several years ago, I enunsiated a format for such
concatenations of events, somewhat".
"There exists a Cosmic Control Center (C.C.C.) with a Galactic substation called Galactic Coincidence Control (G.C.C.). Within which is the Solar System Control Unit (S.S.C.U.), within which is the Earth
Coincidence Control Office (E.C.C.O.). The assignments of responsiblities from the top to the bottom of this system of control is by a set of regulations, which translated by E.C.C.O. for humans is somewhat as
follows:"
To all humans
If you wish to control coincidences in your own life on the planet Earth, we will cooperate and determine those coincidences for you under the following conditions:
1) You must know/assume/simulate our existence in ECCO
2) You must be willing to accept our responsibility for control of your coincidences.
3) You must exert your best capabilities for your susrvival programs and your own development as an advancing/advanced member of ECCO's earthside corps of controlled coincidence workers. You are
expected to use your best intelligence in this service
4) You are expected to expect the unexpected every minute, every hour of every day and of every night.
5) You must be able to maintain conscious/thinking/ reasoning no matter what events we arrange to happen to you. Some of these events will seem catachlysmic/catastrophic/overwhelming: remember stay
aware, no matter what happens/apparently happens to you.
6) You are in our training program for life: there is no escape from it. We (not you ) control the long-term coincidences; you (not we) control the shorter-term coincidences by your own efforts.
7) Your major mission on earth is to discover/create that which we do to control the long-term coincidence patterns: you are being trained on Earth to do this job.
8) When your mission on planet Earth is completed, you will no longer be required to remain/return there.
9) Remember the motto passed to us (from GCC via SSCU):
"Cosmic Love is absolutelely Ruthless and Highly Indifferent: it teaches its lessons whether you like/dislike them or not."
(Excerpt from "The Dyadic Cyclone")
Well, I suppose that we get to look after "small" coincidences is a nice gesture, but in my case it isn't true, and I would think that to be the case for all TI's.
2320h
An evening of re-aquainting myself with the joys of surfing employment web sites, and pondering if I should go back to cleaning for keeping me above water for the winter. The last time I did that I got no reply. Anyhow, it is time to post this, even with the pop-ups coming up for no reason and stopping me from typing.
Well, I suppose that we get to look after "small" coincidences is a nice gesture, but in my case it isn't true, and I would think that to be the case for all TI's.
2320h
An evening of re-aquainting myself with the joys of surfing employment web sites, and pondering if I should go back to cleaning for keeping me above water for the winter. The last time I did that I got no reply. Anyhow, it is time to post this, even with the pop-ups coming up for no reason and stopping me from typing.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Another Run Down Attempt
1440h
That is, if I hadn't stopped walking when crossing a side street, I would have had my legs taken out. I was on my way to yoga, and in mid-street walking across a sidestreet that meets a main thoroughfare, an uncontrolled crossing. The driver had had seen me, but made the left turn in any event, a swooping wide arc that put her vehicle into the opposite lane even while looking at me in her way, not bothering to stay in right hand drive mode and go behind me. I get at least one of these a week, and today was the most egregious. A granny driver, cum operative I suspect, and she wasn't too surprised about the whole deal. But as I was the first student to arrive at yoga when I am nearly always the last one, no matter how early I come, at least one of the four women who came later just might have been in morphed over form as the driver, and then get transformed in shape, face and hair appearance to participate in yoga. All to have me get excited over being run down with a white vehicle, only a short block from the yoga venue. The perps had me yell at the woman driver, the same stock (or stalk?) phrase I am saddled with at my apartement, "what are you doing?". I distinctly felt myself being compelled to say this, as I never make a public exhibition of myself no matter what.
If that wasn't strange enough, one of the yoga class participants "decided" to set up their mat directly behind me, that being this ditzy UK accented "bread stalker" woman. She was the one waving a loaf of bread in a plastic bag to the class members about six months ago, offering it to us and saying that she had too much bread. And she comes so infrequently that no one knew her, so it is most odd IMHO to be offering free groceries to class members after the class. Today, she got into further strangeness by cleaning her mat before the class started, (for the noise I suspect) and keeping 2' of paper towel on her mat the entire time. And then orienting her mat to point toward the instructor like everyone else does also wasn't done, but instead, she had her mat at right angles to mine, after forcing me to move mine, per instructor's request. Talk about a total disruptor, and being the Fuckwit du Jour.
And the woman class member who said she was going to spend the winter in Arizona "next weeK" came back again. She has said her goodbyes twice now, and there she was again. She too had to augment this strange behavior of having paper towel over her yoga mat, making it one behind me (above woman), and this latter woman in front of me, behind the instructor. Both had the same deep burgundy colored yoga mat, and who knows, perhaps they were morphovers of two regulars who weren't there today. The yoga class was good, and looking at the dishy instructor was even better.
After the above mentioned driving the vehicle in my path stunt, the next block had another interesting cluster of gangstalkers, a multicultural tour if you will. At least 10 persons walking in a group of various races; Asians, Caucasians and a negro. They were about 30' ahead of me in a loose cluster, maybe 10' long. As soon as I got close they stopped and some walked in the opposite direction toward me, pretending to look at something down the street, the usual "look at nothing" act. In the course of this, they all ended up strung out in file, and some doing the sidewalk block jerkaround, and pretending to be considerate at the last second and got out of my way. I find these "walking groups" to be most odd, especially in residential areas, and even more odd is how they can coordinate their behavior to adopt more perp desireable configurations, being strung out in file. That was the final rude stunt before I got to the yoga venue, noting that they recently had (within the week) new asphalt paving down on their parking area, and new line painting as well. Regular readers will know of the perps ongoing obsession over asphalt and petroleum products, and this was just another, "happening" outside the yoga classroom.
I don't know always why the perp get into intensified wierdness with extra disruptive Fuckwits in public, but I suspect that wearing my new Sugoi shirt today just might have been the exciting part for them. Though, it is mostly black colored with some mid-grey panels under my arms, the very kind of color combinations and color placement that the perps like for their own gangstalkers. I also did my laundry earlier today, before heading out to yoga, and perhaps there were some residual energetics associated with that activity which the perps were attempting to detect by remote means. Regular readers and most TI's will know that the perps have an obsession over laundry, and even have my out-of-town brother owning and running two commercial laundries. Naturally, they get into other stunts like introducing excessive lint to force relaundering the same clothes, or at least, a subset of interest. I had to get two items drycleaned to finally get the lint off them some three weeks ago.
1630h
I made a 10 minute round trip to get my altered new underwear picked up. These are the storied ones that I was compelled to get via Sierra Trading Post, a discount clothing, outdoor and home accessories store. But as they are high waisted, some 7", I had them altered to remove 2.5" and the waistband put back on. It was $10 per pair, and lo, if she didn't run out of black thread and have to use an olive green on the inside of one pair. I was gangstalked up the asshole nearly on this junket; an elevator buddy, then two outside the apartment, then three converging from three different directions and then "hanging out" together by jaywalking ahead of me. Once I was following them some 60' back, why they split apart with one reversing his path in parallel to meet his buddy jaywalking and then the two of them reversed direction and paralleled me, they still on the street. Another of the threesome stayed in place before they split apart, and the lastmost of the threesome kept walking onward. I had another two of them on me in climing one flight of stairs, and was finally inside the alterations shop. I have never seen such a disparate group act in such a coordinated manner, engaging in their buzzing around me.
When exiting the alterations shop I had another two on me, one tailing, the other oncoming up the stairs in LH drive mode again. Then at least three more before I got to the intersection, and then another two weirds coming at me before I got to my apartment. At the door was a couple who were entering the building, and once at the door, why a weird plus another from a few days ago "happened" to be returning from a garbage trip owing to the garbage chute being "broken", so I had two couples on me, one ahead and one behind. The first couple held the elevator for me, and the tail elected to visit his mailbox instead. So, when I was about to get out, why, and elevator rusher was coming at me, an operative that doesn't respect normal elevator etiquette of letting any passengers out beforet hey get in. This fucker was some 6" from me when I passed by getting out of the elevator while he was getting in, and most strangely he was looking elsewhere in some kind o zombie mode. I was glad to get back after all that, and lo, if the sirens didn't start up when pulling the new underwear from the bag and folding them. Never has there been so much attention to freaking underwear before, and these ones of an acrylic fabric are superior to the cotton kind as they don't get soggy when working out.
The alterations shop kept the spare fabric from the underwear, and she did ask me if I wanted it and said no. Though I am sure that was the perps' need, but whatever, I would throw it out in any event. All the regular undewear has been pitched in the garbage, and it will no doubt "mellow" for a week or so before it gets taken out. The alterations seamstress did return the original vinyl packaging with the cardboard inserts, and I am sure this was important for some reason too, given the perp's obsession with plastics, and especially PVC.
The visitation to get my underwear alterations was the second trip there today, as it "happened" she did not take debit cards when I stopped by after yoga class, so I had to return with a check which was OK. It was then she showed me the job she did, and it looked very professional, just as if they had been made that way, apart from the one olive green stitch on the inside of one pair. For the last two months the perps have being playing extensive erection games in the night, while wearing one pair of the older set of the same kind and color of underwear. I assume that they will continue these games in the night, just with the altered underwear in place. I have no idea as to what this is about, and perhaps the perp-given term for an erection, "meat aerial", has some relevance. Who knows, and me least of all.
1725h
I got an electric like shock to my left foot while viewing a picture of Angelina Jolie in a fim role as part of the promotional images. (Wasn't fleshy). She was in a coat and a hat for chrissakes, and the assholes gave me this shock in my foot, then raised my leg to have the knee contact and move the keyboard tray and keyboard. They kept at it for a few seconds longer, still continuing with the shock treatment. That created some yelling at the assholes, though I don't ever expect that they listen to me, it is just that they want me to vocalize, using the same tired script they have given me for some years now.
The recruiting activities went south today; the recruiter from Edmonton hasn't emailed or phoned, and the outfit to whom I sent my resume yesterday didn't reply to my query when the spoofed webpage didn't appear to take my application. The latter being the second time this has "happened" in town, now two for two.
2000h
Another round of ranting at the online games the perps are up to. It is resume sabotage time again, and they continue to spoof the webpages, eliminate command buttons, and keep sucking needed information out of the entry page, all to create yet more go-arounds in filling all the desired fields. Another trick was to piss with the error trapping software by having all fields as erroneous when there would of only been a few at best. And they even put a resume online for me back in August to create even more contention as I was attempting to upload anew. Someone, put a private resume in Monster.ca under my email address on Aug. 10, and then had a resume from October inserted. Some trick that, as I didn't get going on the resume thing until after Sept. 22, and I had to get it from the stack of diskettes that I have, and to get a USB 3.5" diskette reader to do so. Freaking bizarre, and it all seemed to be about making me go through at least three rounds of attempted resume upload and/or update to then "find" that I (they, in fact), had already registered back in August. As always, I got plenty of noisestalking while entering my personal details; overhead pounding, hallway voices, outside road traffic noise and the usual suspects.
2220h
I am reading Carissa Conti's second book, Chasing Phantoms, (http://in2worlds.net/ChasingPhantoms.pdf) and it very interesting that hers, and other abductees have many common experiences. Check it out, and buy it if you can. Me, this is one broke month and no work to speak of, only these promising leads and then no communication. I get to try another round tomorrow, actually meeting in a casual labor office.
While reading Chasing Phantoms I had the earmuffs on to keep out these faint noises the perps like to annoy me with, and at a certain confluence when she referenced greys, meaning alien entities, there was an additional confluence of noises at that point. An overhead thudding noise made it through the hearing protection, another clunk from the kitchen and a forced yawn at that point.
Time to call this one done for the day; I see my Blogger editor commands have been blanked out again, hence no links being added like I planned.
That is, if I hadn't stopped walking when crossing a side street, I would have had my legs taken out. I was on my way to yoga, and in mid-street walking across a sidestreet that meets a main thoroughfare, an uncontrolled crossing. The driver had had seen me, but made the left turn in any event, a swooping wide arc that put her vehicle into the opposite lane even while looking at me in her way, not bothering to stay in right hand drive mode and go behind me. I get at least one of these a week, and today was the most egregious. A granny driver, cum operative I suspect, and she wasn't too surprised about the whole deal. But as I was the first student to arrive at yoga when I am nearly always the last one, no matter how early I come, at least one of the four women who came later just might have been in morphed over form as the driver, and then get transformed in shape, face and hair appearance to participate in yoga. All to have me get excited over being run down with a white vehicle, only a short block from the yoga venue. The perps had me yell at the woman driver, the same stock (or stalk?) phrase I am saddled with at my apartement, "what are you doing?". I distinctly felt myself being compelled to say this, as I never make a public exhibition of myself no matter what.
If that wasn't strange enough, one of the yoga class participants "decided" to set up their mat directly behind me, that being this ditzy UK accented "bread stalker" woman. She was the one waving a loaf of bread in a plastic bag to the class members about six months ago, offering it to us and saying that she had too much bread. And she comes so infrequently that no one knew her, so it is most odd IMHO to be offering free groceries to class members after the class. Today, she got into further strangeness by cleaning her mat before the class started, (for the noise I suspect) and keeping 2' of paper towel on her mat the entire time. And then orienting her mat to point toward the instructor like everyone else does also wasn't done, but instead, she had her mat at right angles to mine, after forcing me to move mine, per instructor's request. Talk about a total disruptor, and being the Fuckwit du Jour.
And the woman class member who said she was going to spend the winter in Arizona "next weeK" came back again. She has said her goodbyes twice now, and there she was again. She too had to augment this strange behavior of having paper towel over her yoga mat, making it one behind me (above woman), and this latter woman in front of me, behind the instructor. Both had the same deep burgundy colored yoga mat, and who knows, perhaps they were morphovers of two regulars who weren't there today. The yoga class was good, and looking at the dishy instructor was even better.
After the above mentioned driving the vehicle in my path stunt, the next block had another interesting cluster of gangstalkers, a multicultural tour if you will. At least 10 persons walking in a group of various races; Asians, Caucasians and a negro. They were about 30' ahead of me in a loose cluster, maybe 10' long. As soon as I got close they stopped and some walked in the opposite direction toward me, pretending to look at something down the street, the usual "look at nothing" act. In the course of this, they all ended up strung out in file, and some doing the sidewalk block jerkaround, and pretending to be considerate at the last second and got out of my way. I find these "walking groups" to be most odd, especially in residential areas, and even more odd is how they can coordinate their behavior to adopt more perp desireable configurations, being strung out in file. That was the final rude stunt before I got to the yoga venue, noting that they recently had (within the week) new asphalt paving down on their parking area, and new line painting as well. Regular readers will know of the perps ongoing obsession over asphalt and petroleum products, and this was just another, "happening" outside the yoga classroom.
I don't know always why the perp get into intensified wierdness with extra disruptive Fuckwits in public, but I suspect that wearing my new Sugoi shirt today just might have been the exciting part for them. Though, it is mostly black colored with some mid-grey panels under my arms, the very kind of color combinations and color placement that the perps like for their own gangstalkers. I also did my laundry earlier today, before heading out to yoga, and perhaps there were some residual energetics associated with that activity which the perps were attempting to detect by remote means. Regular readers and most TI's will know that the perps have an obsession over laundry, and even have my out-of-town brother owning and running two commercial laundries. Naturally, they get into other stunts like introducing excessive lint to force relaundering the same clothes, or at least, a subset of interest. I had to get two items drycleaned to finally get the lint off them some three weeks ago.
1630h
I made a 10 minute round trip to get my altered new underwear picked up. These are the storied ones that I was compelled to get via Sierra Trading Post, a discount clothing, outdoor and home accessories store. But as they are high waisted, some 7", I had them altered to remove 2.5" and the waistband put back on. It was $10 per pair, and lo, if she didn't run out of black thread and have to use an olive green on the inside of one pair. I was gangstalked up the asshole nearly on this junket; an elevator buddy, then two outside the apartment, then three converging from three different directions and then "hanging out" together by jaywalking ahead of me. Once I was following them some 60' back, why they split apart with one reversing his path in parallel to meet his buddy jaywalking and then the two of them reversed direction and paralleled me, they still on the street. Another of the threesome stayed in place before they split apart, and the lastmost of the threesome kept walking onward. I had another two of them on me in climing one flight of stairs, and was finally inside the alterations shop. I have never seen such a disparate group act in such a coordinated manner, engaging in their buzzing around me.
When exiting the alterations shop I had another two on me, one tailing, the other oncoming up the stairs in LH drive mode again. Then at least three more before I got to the intersection, and then another two weirds coming at me before I got to my apartment. At the door was a couple who were entering the building, and once at the door, why a weird plus another from a few days ago "happened" to be returning from a garbage trip owing to the garbage chute being "broken", so I had two couples on me, one ahead and one behind. The first couple held the elevator for me, and the tail elected to visit his mailbox instead. So, when I was about to get out, why, and elevator rusher was coming at me, an operative that doesn't respect normal elevator etiquette of letting any passengers out beforet hey get in. This fucker was some 6" from me when I passed by getting out of the elevator while he was getting in, and most strangely he was looking elsewhere in some kind o zombie mode. I was glad to get back after all that, and lo, if the sirens didn't start up when pulling the new underwear from the bag and folding them. Never has there been so much attention to freaking underwear before, and these ones of an acrylic fabric are superior to the cotton kind as they don't get soggy when working out.
The alterations shop kept the spare fabric from the underwear, and she did ask me if I wanted it and said no. Though I am sure that was the perps' need, but whatever, I would throw it out in any event. All the regular undewear has been pitched in the garbage, and it will no doubt "mellow" for a week or so before it gets taken out. The alterations seamstress did return the original vinyl packaging with the cardboard inserts, and I am sure this was important for some reason too, given the perp's obsession with plastics, and especially PVC.
The visitation to get my underwear alterations was the second trip there today, as it "happened" she did not take debit cards when I stopped by after yoga class, so I had to return with a check which was OK. It was then she showed me the job she did, and it looked very professional, just as if they had been made that way, apart from the one olive green stitch on the inside of one pair. For the last two months the perps have being playing extensive erection games in the night, while wearing one pair of the older set of the same kind and color of underwear. I assume that they will continue these games in the night, just with the altered underwear in place. I have no idea as to what this is about, and perhaps the perp-given term for an erection, "meat aerial", has some relevance. Who knows, and me least of all.
1725h
I got an electric like shock to my left foot while viewing a picture of Angelina Jolie in a fim role as part of the promotional images. (Wasn't fleshy). She was in a coat and a hat for chrissakes, and the assholes gave me this shock in my foot, then raised my leg to have the knee contact and move the keyboard tray and keyboard. They kept at it for a few seconds longer, still continuing with the shock treatment. That created some yelling at the assholes, though I don't ever expect that they listen to me, it is just that they want me to vocalize, using the same tired script they have given me for some years now.
The recruiting activities went south today; the recruiter from Edmonton hasn't emailed or phoned, and the outfit to whom I sent my resume yesterday didn't reply to my query when the spoofed webpage didn't appear to take my application. The latter being the second time this has "happened" in town, now two for two.
2000h
Another round of ranting at the online games the perps are up to. It is resume sabotage time again, and they continue to spoof the webpages, eliminate command buttons, and keep sucking needed information out of the entry page, all to create yet more go-arounds in filling all the desired fields. Another trick was to piss with the error trapping software by having all fields as erroneous when there would of only been a few at best. And they even put a resume online for me back in August to create even more contention as I was attempting to upload anew. Someone, put a private resume in Monster.ca under my email address on Aug. 10, and then had a resume from October inserted. Some trick that, as I didn't get going on the resume thing until after Sept. 22, and I had to get it from the stack of diskettes that I have, and to get a USB 3.5" diskette reader to do so. Freaking bizarre, and it all seemed to be about making me go through at least three rounds of attempted resume upload and/or update to then "find" that I (they, in fact), had already registered back in August. As always, I got plenty of noisestalking while entering my personal details; overhead pounding, hallway voices, outside road traffic noise and the usual suspects.
2220h
I am reading Carissa Conti's second book, Chasing Phantoms, (http://in2worlds.net/ChasingPhantoms.pdf) and it very interesting that hers, and other abductees have many common experiences. Check it out, and buy it if you can. Me, this is one broke month and no work to speak of, only these promising leads and then no communication. I get to try another round tomorrow, actually meeting in a casual labor office.
While reading Chasing Phantoms I had the earmuffs on to keep out these faint noises the perps like to annoy me with, and at a certain confluence when she referenced greys, meaning alien entities, there was an additional confluence of noises at that point. An overhead thudding noise made it through the hearing protection, another clunk from the kitchen and a forced yawn at that point.
Time to call this one done for the day; I see my Blogger editor commands have been blanked out again, hence no links being added like I planned.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
To Sleep with Overhead Pounding Noise
1435h
The second night in succession where I have been kept awake to hear the overhead pounding noise, a deep sound with a vibrational co,ponent. As mentioned in past blogs, this is a steel-concrete 12 story building I live in, and "somehow", extra-conventional energies are applied to make it sound as if someone were creating this noise by walking around on a carpeted floor above me. The overhead pounding started up after 10 minutes of getting to bed, both nights.
This is how the perps put me to sleep last night, and the night before, and while they kept me awake for at least 30 minutes to hear their serenade. The also started someone singing as well, and not a stereo, but an acapella male voice. All part of the games to access neural structures in the brainstem area it would seem, as this is the tareget area for the maser strikes of late, above my Adam's apple. I don't get them in the head too often currently, which tells me that the neck strikes are as close as they can get to the brain region of interest.
I suppose the big perp excitement was the 15 minute round trip to the LD store to get my prescription handed in and filled. There was an emphasis on native Indians and others of like skin color. When walking to the store, the perps pulled the "split couple" move, this time a native Indian couple, who offered no room to pass by except between them. They were walking toward me about 20' away, and then the male deliberately changed his walking track and walked on the curbside of the sidewalk, and she kept going on a straight track along the building, looking particularly afraid. This left about 5' between them, the only space to pass by on the sidewalk.
Then more of the brown skinned weirds/gangstalkers in the LD store who managed to keep "showing up" in places I intended to visit. One brown skinned gangstalker put on the act of having a red handled mop in hand, as if he had selected it for purchase. I even had to ask him to remove it from blocking my egress in the aisle. I had only one thing to acquire in the aisle, and he was posted there.
And some more games with financial transactions, something the perps like to noisestalk bigtime. First a botched transaction online last night to order a new keyboard, and no confirming email as stated on the order form. No big deal "I" thought, I will deal with it tomorrow. And so, a phone call this morning where I explained the problem, and the seeming Asian woman took my details to make the transaction and so it was done. This occured just before setting off to the LD store, and of course I needed to acquire some things, hence another transaction with the gangstalkers all over me. Then another phone call when I got back from the PC hardware company to confirm that the keyboard was ordered and will be in the latter part of next week. Still no confirming email of course, so I wonder if this is going to be a total jerkaround much like the deliberate games OD store of 10-2006. (Ordered online, and not delivered, even when they "looked into it").
Anyhow, all of the above, save the blatant gangstalking is not a big deal, it is just so strange that a billion dollar budget operation still needs to hound me everytime I buy something, and won't come out of the closet. Sounds like the definition of idiocy, hounding someone for over 50 years and still looking for the "magic" or aural energies related to financial transactions. Never mind the other fetishes the perps have over colors, shaving, doing dishes, showering, footwear and feet, and the demographic groups they persistently draw from to feature their gangstalkers.
1540h
The perps have me back to taking an afternoon tea break now. It is the Chinese green tea and now also added back in, 100g of chocolate, per their brown color problem. I would seem, given the extensive variety of noise that is arranged while I eat chocolate, or any brown colored food, that the perps are using this to test and remotely assay my brain energies while these substances are in my mouth. Hence, a significant number, >70% of ambulatory gangstalkers I encounter, have their mouth open, spit, yawn, sneeze, eat food or otherwise expose their mouth contents in my proximity.
The perps are now pulling a new jerkaround related to putting the kettle on to boil. I was in the kitchen and put away the lunch crockery and utensils and then was mind-controlled into leaving the kitchen and sitting down to wait for the kettle to boil. What the assholes did was plant the notion that I had filled the kettle, placed it on the large burner and turned the burner on. But I hadn't, I was mind-fucked into that perception. Then I was mind-fucked into being extremely enraged at this incursion, which has to be at least the 30th such event today. All these perception mind-fucks, and it is getting extremely tiresome to say the least. Anyhow, this was a first time total jerkaround on putting the kettle on, as before it was only reserved to putting the burner on.
Meanwhile, the very loud two cycle motorcycle engine noise, think chopped Harley Davidsons, are still ongoing even though none are to be seen. This is a constant mystery as to why this noise is so prevalent and there are relatively few such vehicles, not to mention any location where they would congregate within five miles. All part of this harassment scenario, and has been for at least three years since the perps had me live downtown where there is a greater cover story.
More skin jabbing today, usually while at the kitchen cleaning the dishes; sharp jabs in my leg, foot and nuts, and occasionally in the eye. There are no end of laterally flying water drops from the sink water when doing the dishes, hence it would seem the perps have a problem with me doing this activity. This is similar as to when taking a shower and shaving. There are no end of plasma and maser games going on at the same time, and I have largely given up on reporting this phenomenon as they are so ubiquitous.
And the same for drinking tea; there is a pair of zinger masers that "arrive" each time that I bring the mug to my lips and imbibe tea. These are the small, 1/8" fuzzy balls, a greyish blackish pair that are about 1" apart and sit about 2" away from my face. When I put the mug down the maser zingers are gone. Then it repeats each time. Not a big deal in the entire harassment scope, but it does underscore the notion supported by the previously measured densified electromagnetic field that I am being contained in. All three of my gaussmeters have "failed", and the lastmost reading in late 2002 was with a rented meter.
1820h
A long read of Dogtor J, a veterinarian who has studied the effects of the immune system problems due to gluten and casein intolerance in both animals and humans. His experiences are astounding, which includes his own personal rebound from the symptoms of sub-clinical celiac disease. The link is here. I can only assume the perps wanted to expose this to me again, as I knew much of this from my studying ADHD (aka ADD). And this topic is of considerable interest to the perps, who, thankfully, took me off milk by the time I was 15 y.o. or so. They also guided me onto using olive oil and not cooking with vegetable oils that my parents used. I had moved to Vancouver, BC from Victoria and was living in a house in the Kitsilano area, and as the neighborhood had a large Greek population it was the done thing to use olive oil. And that has been the only cooking oil I have used ever since. Since food oils are of continuing interest to the perps, at the obsession level, I can only assume they wanted to take me off the more deleterious vegetable and hydrogenated oils. And it was the time that I quit using margerine as well, one of the latter category of food oils. Currently the perps have me using cheese as a melted topping for the everyday tortillas they have me make, and they also have had me using soy milk, another thought to be food that causes problems. Maybe they want me to change the latter staple as part of this education stunt they have me on.
And more noisestalking while doing the dinner dishes. I "forgot" to mention that the perps also flip my underwear hems, while my pants are on, when undertaking this activity, and are especially fond of doing this when I am mind-fucked into yelling at them in response to their harassment pranks like flicking sink water, adding a tea leaf onto the dinner plate while cleaning it and other sick minded intrusions. Now the sirens have started up, this being the post-dinner digestion period, always a compelling event for the assholes.
1950h
Outtakes from yesterday. These are some of the photos that "somehow" didn't turn out, and were inexplicably fuzzy, especially if an operative can be visually identified.
When in doubt in Perpland, place an appliance nearby, or even in, the vehicle. This two tone brown colored pickup needed a reference color the perps figured. And lo, today, for all 15 minutes of out time, the perps put on an cardboard (brown color) appliance box next to the front door, and an appliance service van parked outside, predominantly white colored.
Both phone booths on my way back from gym were populated with operatives, jawing away. Rarely is even one busy, but both on the same leg of my return trip is amazing.
Another anomaly; this woman if front of the bus walked OUT of the post office with her brown cardboard box to then place on the hood of her red vehicle. This after having the door open for at least three minutes while I was walking toward it.
Every so often I get a "just stand there" operative/gangstalker looking totally stupid with no cover story.
Two like green colored vehicles and both minivans, neither being a coincidence. That a brown colored vehicle is framed between them likely means this was a setup for me to take a photograph.
More bad photos, this time from 10-94-2007, the previous set.
The "drycleaning stalking", except this time it is legit as there is a drycleaners close by. I figure the reason for this is to have a color reference shrouded in plastic as a reference to the plastic polluted brain cells the perps are attempting to analyse and ultimately govern. Plastic pollution appears to be a big part of what causes them problems for remote neural assay energetics.
Another bad photo, though what struck me was that it was an Indian woman, brown colored skin, followed by a Caucasian male, in "Plastic Bag Man" mode, wearing a brown colored coat.
And a three distance blue test; a mid colored blue vehicle in the middle distance, between the male on the crosswalk and the white van, the aforementioned male, and the woman who is closest to the camera on the right. The latter being on plastic bag duty as well, one of the most abiding props of the ambulatory gangstalkers.
A string of four silver-gey vehicles parked in file, with a gap provided for me to take the photograph and include the arranged string on the opposite side of the road, a red, blue and a brown colored vehicle.
Same vehicles as above photo, but adding two blue vehicles behind the lastmost silver-grey vehicle in above photo. If I recall my count correctly from a Picasa zoom-in, that is five silver-grey vehicles parked in file ahead of the closest mid-blue vehicle.
Two identically colored light brown vehicles in file, in motion. The leftmost pickup truck is carrying two ladders in its box, projecting upward from the rear base of the box and over the hood. I had never seen this style of ladder packing before, and it is now ubiquitous in this town. There must be something about the nature of the hollow rungs that confers some extra advantage for the perps. On the right, closest to the camera is a Volvo 745, one of the perp's favored vehicle makers to gangstalk me with. That I drove a silver-grey Volvo 245 for 16 years until mid-2006 is likely the reason, though I don't understand the amount of variations that I get, e.g. other colored Volvos and other models.
The backpacker loitering around the school yard, the second instance of this in the same location in a week, and at the same time, when walking back from gym. I cannot think why anyone would have such an enormous backpack in a schoolyard, let alone just "hanging around".
2245h
More music sample listening. Time to blog off and call this done.
The second night in succession where I have been kept awake to hear the overhead pounding noise, a deep sound with a vibrational co,ponent. As mentioned in past blogs, this is a steel-concrete 12 story building I live in, and "somehow", extra-conventional energies are applied to make it sound as if someone were creating this noise by walking around on a carpeted floor above me. The overhead pounding started up after 10 minutes of getting to bed, both nights.
This is how the perps put me to sleep last night, and the night before, and while they kept me awake for at least 30 minutes to hear their serenade. The also started someone singing as well, and not a stereo, but an acapella male voice. All part of the games to access neural structures in the brainstem area it would seem, as this is the tareget area for the maser strikes of late, above my Adam's apple. I don't get them in the head too often currently, which tells me that the neck strikes are as close as they can get to the brain region of interest.
I suppose the big perp excitement was the 15 minute round trip to the LD store to get my prescription handed in and filled. There was an emphasis on native Indians and others of like skin color. When walking to the store, the perps pulled the "split couple" move, this time a native Indian couple, who offered no room to pass by except between them. They were walking toward me about 20' away, and then the male deliberately changed his walking track and walked on the curbside of the sidewalk, and she kept going on a straight track along the building, looking particularly afraid. This left about 5' between them, the only space to pass by on the sidewalk.
Then more of the brown skinned weirds/gangstalkers in the LD store who managed to keep "showing up" in places I intended to visit. One brown skinned gangstalker put on the act of having a red handled mop in hand, as if he had selected it for purchase. I even had to ask him to remove it from blocking my egress in the aisle. I had only one thing to acquire in the aisle, and he was posted there.
And some more games with financial transactions, something the perps like to noisestalk bigtime. First a botched transaction online last night to order a new keyboard, and no confirming email as stated on the order form. No big deal "I" thought, I will deal with it tomorrow. And so, a phone call this morning where I explained the problem, and the seeming Asian woman took my details to make the transaction and so it was done. This occured just before setting off to the LD store, and of course I needed to acquire some things, hence another transaction with the gangstalkers all over me. Then another phone call when I got back from the PC hardware company to confirm that the keyboard was ordered and will be in the latter part of next week. Still no confirming email of course, so I wonder if this is going to be a total jerkaround much like the deliberate games OD store of 10-2006. (Ordered online, and not delivered, even when they "looked into it").
Anyhow, all of the above, save the blatant gangstalking is not a big deal, it is just so strange that a billion dollar budget operation still needs to hound me everytime I buy something, and won't come out of the closet. Sounds like the definition of idiocy, hounding someone for over 50 years and still looking for the "magic" or aural energies related to financial transactions. Never mind the other fetishes the perps have over colors, shaving, doing dishes, showering, footwear and feet, and the demographic groups they persistently draw from to feature their gangstalkers.
1540h
The perps have me back to taking an afternoon tea break now. It is the Chinese green tea and now also added back in, 100g of chocolate, per their brown color problem. I would seem, given the extensive variety of noise that is arranged while I eat chocolate, or any brown colored food, that the perps are using this to test and remotely assay my brain energies while these substances are in my mouth. Hence, a significant number, >70% of ambulatory gangstalkers I encounter, have their mouth open, spit, yawn, sneeze, eat food or otherwise expose their mouth contents in my proximity.
The perps are now pulling a new jerkaround related to putting the kettle on to boil. I was in the kitchen and put away the lunch crockery and utensils and then was mind-controlled into leaving the kitchen and sitting down to wait for the kettle to boil. What the assholes did was plant the notion that I had filled the kettle, placed it on the large burner and turned the burner on. But I hadn't, I was mind-fucked into that perception. Then I was mind-fucked into being extremely enraged at this incursion, which has to be at least the 30th such event today. All these perception mind-fucks, and it is getting extremely tiresome to say the least. Anyhow, this was a first time total jerkaround on putting the kettle on, as before it was only reserved to putting the burner on.
Meanwhile, the very loud two cycle motorcycle engine noise, think chopped Harley Davidsons, are still ongoing even though none are to be seen. This is a constant mystery as to why this noise is so prevalent and there are relatively few such vehicles, not to mention any location where they would congregate within five miles. All part of this harassment scenario, and has been for at least three years since the perps had me live downtown where there is a greater cover story.
More skin jabbing today, usually while at the kitchen cleaning the dishes; sharp jabs in my leg, foot and nuts, and occasionally in the eye. There are no end of laterally flying water drops from the sink water when doing the dishes, hence it would seem the perps have a problem with me doing this activity. This is similar as to when taking a shower and shaving. There are no end of plasma and maser games going on at the same time, and I have largely given up on reporting this phenomenon as they are so ubiquitous.
And the same for drinking tea; there is a pair of zinger masers that "arrive" each time that I bring the mug to my lips and imbibe tea. These are the small, 1/8" fuzzy balls, a greyish blackish pair that are about 1" apart and sit about 2" away from my face. When I put the mug down the maser zingers are gone. Then it repeats each time. Not a big deal in the entire harassment scope, but it does underscore the notion supported by the previously measured densified electromagnetic field that I am being contained in. All three of my gaussmeters have "failed", and the lastmost reading in late 2002 was with a rented meter.
1820h
A long read of Dogtor J, a veterinarian who has studied the effects of the immune system problems due to gluten and casein intolerance in both animals and humans. His experiences are astounding, which includes his own personal rebound from the symptoms of sub-clinical celiac disease. The link is here. I can only assume the perps wanted to expose this to me again, as I knew much of this from my studying ADHD (aka ADD). And this topic is of considerable interest to the perps, who, thankfully, took me off milk by the time I was 15 y.o. or so. They also guided me onto using olive oil and not cooking with vegetable oils that my parents used. I had moved to Vancouver, BC from Victoria and was living in a house in the Kitsilano area, and as the neighborhood had a large Greek population it was the done thing to use olive oil. And that has been the only cooking oil I have used ever since. Since food oils are of continuing interest to the perps, at the obsession level, I can only assume they wanted to take me off the more deleterious vegetable and hydrogenated oils. And it was the time that I quit using margerine as well, one of the latter category of food oils. Currently the perps have me using cheese as a melted topping for the everyday tortillas they have me make, and they also have had me using soy milk, another thought to be food that causes problems. Maybe they want me to change the latter staple as part of this education stunt they have me on.
And more noisestalking while doing the dinner dishes. I "forgot" to mention that the perps also flip my underwear hems, while my pants are on, when undertaking this activity, and are especially fond of doing this when I am mind-fucked into yelling at them in response to their harassment pranks like flicking sink water, adding a tea leaf onto the dinner plate while cleaning it and other sick minded intrusions. Now the sirens have started up, this being the post-dinner digestion period, always a compelling event for the assholes.
1950h
Outtakes from yesterday. These are some of the photos that "somehow" didn't turn out, and were inexplicably fuzzy, especially if an operative can be visually identified.
When in doubt in Perpland, place an appliance nearby, or even in, the vehicle. This two tone brown colored pickup needed a reference color the perps figured. And lo, today, for all 15 minutes of out time, the perps put on an cardboard (brown color) appliance box next to the front door, and an appliance service van parked outside, predominantly white colored.
Both phone booths on my way back from gym were populated with operatives, jawing away. Rarely is even one busy, but both on the same leg of my return trip is amazing.
Another anomaly; this woman if front of the bus walked OUT of the post office with her brown cardboard box to then place on the hood of her red vehicle. This after having the door open for at least three minutes while I was walking toward it.
Every so often I get a "just stand there" operative/gangstalker looking totally stupid with no cover story.
Two like green colored vehicles and both minivans, neither being a coincidence. That a brown colored vehicle is framed between them likely means this was a setup for me to take a photograph.
More bad photos, this time from 10-94-2007, the previous set.
The "drycleaning stalking", except this time it is legit as there is a drycleaners close by. I figure the reason for this is to have a color reference shrouded in plastic as a reference to the plastic polluted brain cells the perps are attempting to analyse and ultimately govern. Plastic pollution appears to be a big part of what causes them problems for remote neural assay energetics.
Another bad photo, though what struck me was that it was an Indian woman, brown colored skin, followed by a Caucasian male, in "Plastic Bag Man" mode, wearing a brown colored coat.
And a three distance blue test; a mid colored blue vehicle in the middle distance, between the male on the crosswalk and the white van, the aforementioned male, and the woman who is closest to the camera on the right. The latter being on plastic bag duty as well, one of the most abiding props of the ambulatory gangstalkers.
A string of four silver-gey vehicles parked in file, with a gap provided for me to take the photograph and include the arranged string on the opposite side of the road, a red, blue and a brown colored vehicle.
Same vehicles as above photo, but adding two blue vehicles behind the lastmost silver-grey vehicle in above photo. If I recall my count correctly from a Picasa zoom-in, that is five silver-grey vehicles parked in file ahead of the closest mid-blue vehicle.
Two identically colored light brown vehicles in file, in motion. The leftmost pickup truck is carrying two ladders in its box, projecting upward from the rear base of the box and over the hood. I had never seen this style of ladder packing before, and it is now ubiquitous in this town. There must be something about the nature of the hollow rungs that confers some extra advantage for the perps. On the right, closest to the camera is a Volvo 745, one of the perp's favored vehicle makers to gangstalk me with. That I drove a silver-grey Volvo 245 for 16 years until mid-2006 is likely the reason, though I don't understand the amount of variations that I get, e.g. other colored Volvos and other models.
The backpacker loitering around the school yard, the second instance of this in the same location in a week, and at the same time, when walking back from gym. I cannot think why anyone would have such an enormous backpack in a schoolyard, let alone just "hanging around".
2245h
More music sample listening. Time to blog off and call this done.
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