08-20-2013
I got screwed again over the alarm clock; twice this time. I awoke at 0445h to find the alarm not set and so I set it and went back to sleep. About 50 min. later I awoke to find that it didn't go off at 0500h, and was screwed out of getting my usual timely start. So... only one cup of coffee instead of two, and then shaving only my face and none of the other regular places. And I suppose, having been through this once last week, the big perp test is to see if changing my shaving routine is in some way remotely measurable by whatever means they use. The usual "not my problem..." refrain applies here too.
Yesterday's yoga class spared me the Fuckwit in red, though they had two males in class when there has been consistently none, save me for the last 8 months, except last week's aforementioned all-red case. They put the hideous tattoo-ed arms dude 6' away to my R. and the other male was as far away as possible, some 20'. And another curiousity was that the mats of many class members were already in place before they arrived. They would walk in for the first time and onto their mat. A different class was held immediately before, so maybe they took the class, slunk out of the rear door and then came in through the front door, timed with my movement into the class. Most strange. The Tall Girl was behind me this time, and has been a regular mat neighbor for the past 6 months (L, R, and now behind, and in S facing and N facing orientations). I don't know the significance of the Tall Girl gangstalking, but it has increased of late. By that I mean, 6' or taller, as I am 5'11".
Said hideous tattoo-ed dude had been a regular lobby only stalker after class ended, but now they have injected him into the advanced yoga class for whatever reason. The young but stocky woman to my L had a faded tattoo on her shoulder, so by putting me between two tattoo acts, maybe it was about quantum entanglement of the respective tattoos. I have no idea why the perps decide to place tattoo acts around me, except to disgust/annoy me, but the above mentioned refrain applies, "not my problem, so why....".
08-21-2013
A day of dimming of the sun for half the day; a strange and persistent cloud managed to pull off tracking the sun for at least three hours.
The eyeglasses switch again; the broken temple piece is to be repaired, so I get temporary temples until the repair is done. Like WTF; they unilaterally order temples for temporary use, and "forget" to tell me as I could use them with my old lenses.
Many more strange vision perturbations with these old non-progressive eyeglasses lenses that I am wearing as my back-up pair as I type this. Two weeks ago, there was minimal transition perturbations, but there is this time "somehow" there is.
Then the Large Dude force needed to stalk me in the LD store after swapping glasses. Them and their ridiculous shorts and hairy legs.
08-22-2013
An eyeglasses exchange again; the new lenses (of two weeks ago) with a pair of new "loaner" temples while my regular pair are shipped off to a lab somewhere that can solder titanium. Recall that the optician somehow broke the solder job on the R side and it was joined with a plastic tube splice and later my own white adhesive tape as the former came apart while the optician was away all last week. And delaying the repair job too of course.
08-23-2013
An wearing my special temporary specs on a workday; new (two week old) lenses, loaner temples, and the bridge from my old pair.
And when going to deposit my check at the ATM at 0630h, the dude force "joined me" at the ATM again; the preceding Fuckwit from a pickup that was the same color as my vehicle, metallic middle grey, was scripted to get ahead of me. Another dude was in a white pickup and crossed both our paths before getting to the bank.
The perps pulled a rain, which had the unerring knack of stopping when I had the appropriate head wear. Then when not wearing a hat, why, the rain started up again. On with the hat after lunch, and lo, if it didn't stop raining again.
A fake MVA on the way home after a big stakeout at LD where they obstructed the check outs, and one female Fuckwit bought a box of 1lb coffee bags, all to add extra "browning around" at the checkout. Another Fuckwit walked in with a pane of double glaze glass while I was waiting in line for crissakes.
08-24-2013
No printed receipt for my gasoline purchase again; the third time in three successive fill-ups at two different fuel vendors. And the ATM did this to me a few weeks ago. I can hear the printer, but no paper comes out.
I went to the farmers market early, but there was still a crowd of waddlers and dawdlers, all designed around obstructing me in making egress. Even the ones that pretend not to hear or see me manage to do this as I am approaching behind them and their timing is perfect to verr in front of my intended path.
I see that the laundromat freaks were in place again; one woman on crutches was attempting to clean up a water mess on the floor. Sorry, I am not going to help, as I get in and out as fast as I can before another freak get in my way. Bald males, fat women, shiftless gaped mouthed males, elder males with the dumb tourist hat and shorts etc.
Current day MIB at the SOF supermarket were tailing me; "happening" to come by when I was shopping/looking at freezer containers at each of two locations. Then as the third time finale, there were near the checkouts with these large-gutted MIB pointing toward me. No bowler hats, ties or umbrellas of course, but black seems to be the new look for "management" as the staff are normally in green T-shirts.
Later my internet was taken out as the profile was suddenly lost and then it wouldn't let me access the profile via the settings as it was greyed out. Cute trick that. then it fixed itself somehow, hence this posting continuing.
And it just never fucking ends, even if it looks that way. After paying child support for my daughter for four extra years because the lawyer changed the agreement without my knowledge, as we had agreed earlier on a date, her 19th birthday. Somehow it got changed to "upon reaching the age of majority", which turns out to be a loosey-goosey legal term to mean the end of post-secondary education to the age of 25. The ex is now hitting me up for $100 per month as our daughter got an internship for four months, which is code for nearly free labor. So here we go again, another financial request after four extra years of monthly payments, courtesy of the lawyer's malfeasance, though directed by another party.
And to put the "intern" word into play again, as it has been on the news often of late. In this province an intern position can only be made available to those in an academic program, but somehow this has slipped the attention of one of Vancouver's most prominent sports team.
08-25-2013
Yesterday (Saturday) I met up with the out-of-town brother and family who came here to Penticton for the Challenge Triathalon, as he will be doing running in a team triathalon. And it was up to me to phone and find out where they were and their plans yesterday when they arrive two days earlier (Thursday). Visiting First Feral Family members often engage in strange uncommunicative behaviors; I didn't know he was to come until four days ago when talking to my perp-abetting mother on the phone.
And a much sudden "need" to get onto freezing the surplus of cucumbers and zucchinis that I happened to pick from the vegetable garden plot at the vineyard. I was responsible for watering it through the week and was offered to take all the ripe vegetables that I wanted. That then morphed into "needing" a food processor to handle the volume, some 20 of them. And while in Walmart for getting a cutting board as two regular vendors seemed to be out of them, there was a great deal (likely subsidized) on a $50 vacuum cleaner the cleaning lady at the vineyard was raving about. The shelves were empty of the model I wanted, and while walking the aisle to get to the checkout, why, there was a pallet load of the very model I was looking for. A surge of five males erupted from different directions when I picked up the brown cardboard boxed vacuum cleaner, and at one of them led me to the checkout area.
As usual, the dudes are wearing fugly check and plaid shorts, all to put on the hairy legs which the the perps like me to see as part of the Unfavored features tour. And a surplus of male guts to be observed in profile. Then a four-some (a party of one, and of three) of gangstalkers led me out of the Walmart, each of them taking a separate door on cue. Plus an E. Indian male was coming straight at me, making that he wanted to go to the washroom door I was passing by, he of the Smirk Squad.
This is race day (Sunday), and many of the streets are blocked off, so that constrained my vehicular egress, hence the above Walmart visit. But it didn't stop the "open door" twits from gangstalking me; an extra contingent of Fuckwits puttering at an open door of a vehicle, and as soon as I arrive as close as I am going to get, why, the puttering suddenly stops and they tail me. And race day, with some of the FFF in town also coincides with different ear pressures which I cannot shake off, or otherwise manipulate to end. Also added into the cognitive assaults is that I have the sensation of being stoned, drunk or somehow detached from my environment. This has gone on all day so far (1330h as I write this, and will doubtless continue with my inaugural use of the new food processor.
Yesterday, while with the above mentioned FFF at the beach, yet again, an eruption of extra-jocular males (two playing buddy-buddy) cavorted in our proximity, and their exuberant inanity persisted for at least 1.5 hours. Though no sand was kicked up in my face or any other imminent fuckery that happens to erupt. The perps also put on three young women in bikinis in front, so they were a more welcome distraction. And too, some people are doing the weirdest things; walking along the beach and then they decide to stand in the water, some 40' away at a depth of 2' or less for at least 10 minutes. Then they retire to the beach to lie down or sit up for a half hour, and then do another round of senseless standing in the water for 20 minutes. As usual, there was plenty of hot-rod muffler noise and HD motorcycle noise as a background to being at the beach. Another variance was a nearby party having their dog on the beach, which is expressly disallowed according to the posted signs. Once I wondered how people got away with this BS when there are so many others around, but no more; they got permission from the Arrangers who also ensured that there were no bylaw enforcement personnel.
And today, there have been plenty of extra abuses and telekinetic fuckery; crumbs or hairs that arrive from no where when my back is turned, usually on just-cleaned surfaces. One of their all time favorites is to have onion skins arrive from nowhere, that were formerly in the garbage can. Another was dill fragments that arrived in places it was nowhere close to. The dill aroma was getting so prevalent in perp tricks that I eventually threw it out as I was fed up with the level of exploitation the perps were putting me through. As it was likely the first dill that I had purchased in over 30 years, because it is too smelly for my liking, the perps thought they could exploit it to the max.
Plenty of damage to fabrics and sheets of late; pics to follow for the next posting, assuming I will remember this commitment.
[Minor grammatical changes made 08-31-2013]
Showing posts with label vehicle egress. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vehicle egress. Show all posts
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Clinking on Cue
03-18-2007, 1150h
I have done my daily round of news trolling on the web, and it is always a noisestalked affair, in the form of the noisescape, the generalized noise, and the specifically targetted noise. In the latter case, upon reading the word "FBI", the glass bottle bashing sounded for one note. And as I wrote this, a hallway "resident" answered her cell phone only 5' from my door. It almost goes without saying that the cell phones seem to offer perp related benefits of a transient nature, likely the localized electromagnetic emissions. There are no end of them in my proximity, and that includes a call to the operative in the next door bathroom at 2315h last night, before her seeming shower, bath and toilet flushing act.
I got the double sentry honor guard for taking out my garbage last night. My garbage was a bonanza of some 10 boxboard toss-outs from the Cling Wrap (an objective of considerable harassment), chocolates, dental products etc. It was an all-time concentration of boxboard with the addition of the chicken packaging and the fat and bone that I took off the cooked bird when I got back from the grocery store yesterday. As I exited the front door, there was an operative ("rooming house resident") on either side of the stairway who then each turned by unified silent cue to enter the house via the front door that I opened. And strangely, the outside porch light was off when it is usually on.
And as part of that, the one operative who I am most familiar with of the two honor guards had a green shamrock painted on the side of this face that he turned toward me. This was the same as the house manager who had stopped by earlier in the day inquiring about my intent to give notice. In other words, there was a cover story over the St. Patrick's day celebration, and the green paint on their cheeks was part of the color exposure show that goes on interminably as one of the underpinnings of ambulatory and vehicular gangstalking. If this is where the assholes are at, painting shamrocks on their face once a year, then this depraved harassment has got a long run ahead of it, at least two more years by my reckoning, after five years of it so far.
A look at my email, even if spam, and the Inbox counter was meddled with to reflect a higher total than the extant unread email; observing this also got me a cell phone stalking in the hallway, only 2' away outside my door. I have yet to understand why the public hallway is a location for private banter. It as if this mentality is infectious as they all do this. Or more accurately, it is the orchestrated procedure for introducing specific noise (human voice) and commensurate electromagnetic activity within close proximity to me on a as-needed basis.
03-19-2007, 1350h
I am back to my room/cell after a Feral Family gangstalk time in front of the TV for dinner and later evening viewing. In that, I get to watch 60 Minutes, and that has to be one of the few regular shows that I see. But there were two shows from the UK, and the perps like me to hear British accents of all stripes, one of their obsessions.
I am getting the overhead clunking as I type this, and many of the words, especially nouns, seem to be of significant perp interest.
There were plenty of masers and plasma beams flitting around in the living room at my parents' place last night and both parents/quislings pretended not to notice anything. There were even off-TV plasma flashes as solid colors and a new variety, a checkerboard matrix about 2' in diameter.
1500h
I am getting a sustained noise flurry at the moment, and the plastic bag rustling and shaking is still going on in the hallway as I type this, and some throat clearing shills/operatives have arrived outside my room in the adjacent parking lot. (Meanwhile, I am getting severe typo sabotage as I key this in; it is a post Feral Family Visitation Monday, and the perps go apeshit with their stunts and noise games then).
For all my teabreak I was noisestalked, the most well timed was this absurd sudden onset squeak noise that they play, this one timed exactly to when I placed a square of chocolate in my mouth. It is at least the second such coincidence over chocolate eating this past week. And my outside noise crowd has now arrived, the throatclearing is a standard noise.
And left calf jabbing, as if a needle is being poked into the back of my leg from no ostensible cause, also with exquisite timing, for the exact moment I picked up the black plastic teapot lid. (The one they partially broke as they wanted the plastic to flap around more.) And I also have tea at my parents place from glazed stone pots, one is red and the other is blue. Surely that is enough teapot variation. Wrong, they are still fucking with every aspect of tea making and consumption, with the chocolate being its own perp interest, likely for its color. I noticed that an unglazed pot was "left behind" on the dining room table near where I sit, so there must be something about the glazes of pottery that is pissing off the perps. Once again, not my problem, so why am I being harassed over it?
One can be sure that no perp has the gumption to account for themself and tell me, that I know.
And when I drove my parents' Ford Escape into town to then park and get out at this putative rooming house that I live in, there was not only a delay in my mother assuming getting to the driver's seat, but there was at least a two ring circus going on outside as I was seated in the driver's seat, engine off, and listening to her.
First was this ongoing clown show, under the cover story of being a donations charity only 30' away, the Women In Need (WIN) charity which sells used clothing and furniture. Their truck is usually posted on the street parking, and their operatives regularly play with brown cardboard boxes (just when I look out the window), plastic bags, racks of clothing, brown colored furniture etc., and take racks of clothing across the street and back to another storage area. They got into translucent blue plastic bag lugging at first, then moved two grey plastic tote bins across the road to the tailgate of their truck. For the second one, the operative "decided" to play a game, and jumped onto the wheeled tote and rode it as if it were an oversized skateboard. Intentionally, he "forgot" about the curb, and when the tote bin contacted it, he deliberately rolled himself off onto the sidewalk and the tote bin also flipped and dumped its contents of clothes onto the sidewalk. (This may have also served the perps' fixations around concrete and its energetics of human interactions). So there he was, splayed out on the sidewalk with these clothes on and around him. And it was quite clear that he deliberately rolled off, it was not a consequence of the tote bin hitting the curb.
There was that banality, but picking up the grey theme, there were two operatives on each side of the street, walking W. in parallel. On the S. side was a woman in a two tone grey shawl and hood combination garment, and on the N. side was a man in black pants and a black jacket with a large grey-black Adidas logo on the back. So it would seem, that the perps were testing the color grey, with some black reference colors, in the form of clothing on a male and female, and in the form of plastic (the tote bin) which was used to bridge the street between the ambulatory operatives.
Then when my mother got out at the driver's side but still seated with the open door, she then had a yellowish piece of paper in hand, and went into an explanation about how there was a weaving exposition on in a few weeks. As I saw it, this was about more delays in getting in and out of the vehicle, which are getting more pathetic, protracted and obvious from her actions.
Past readers will know that I get to see a considerable number of people egressing their vehicles at any given moment on the street. They are even getting more blatant about having all four doors open, leaving the trunk open, and otherwise lounging at their vehicles when this behavior never happened with this frequency before. On any given 15 minute walk along thoroughfares there is at least 10% of them with doors or trunk open. My mother's delays over vehicle egress are not unexpected; it fits the pattern of all the other shills and operatives.
1550h
More hallway aerosol spraying has started up, under the cover of "air freshener". Once my mother was uncharacteristically gung ho on me getting the plug-in kind for my apartment in Seattle when she never used them herself. I never did figure that one out until recent weeks, or more like, I was not allowed to recall that fact and make that association until my brain jailers let me in on what I would know if I wasn't being fucked with. Nor was I allowed to know this fact and figure out that she was in on this sick minded invasion and harassment until the script called for it, some 7 months later.
1705h
More clinking, clunking, door slamming, room shaking and other well timed noises for the past hour or so of troving through online world music. Back to the frat house model and the steady stream of "residents" tromping through the building. As this is the pre-mealtime moment, the perps like to lay on the noise at this time, always coordinated with the excitement (to them) of selecting, cutting, pasting (Windows actions) and bookmarking websites, in this case, music. Then they now have me do the same for cinema, bookmarking potential films should I ever be permitted to get out of "brain jail" and live an unfettered life.
And for real excitement, they plant the name of a film in a music review, and have me attend to both within the same activity. Truly the stuff of sick and depraved minds, the ones of the "grey stalking" earlier.
1850h
The perps got me, (read mind-fucked me) into a rare rage state again, as this is the Psychopathic Assault Mondays again. This is the day they "borrow" whatever they have learned in the stayover at my parents and are applying it here. Something like that. They flicked the cheese about (again), flicked chicken pieces, jabbed me in the leg and ass with a pin pricking sensation, flicked dishes water about in impossible trajectories, and noisestalked me the entire time. Currently, as I type this, they have started up the overhead clunking again, and seem to be using it on "my" stock phrases that I use. (More like, am allowed to use).
And they have also been keeping the vision assaults going, particularly my right eye, which seems to indicate that they want to temporarily remove it from the neural processing so that they can look at what else to detect in real time. Consistent with past Mondays, it will take at least an hour to get to sleep tonight, just to keep this vile depravity going for as long as they can.
1915h
The perps have me on cranked up mood tonight; they are at their forehead numbing games which I detest, and have taken to creating a knocking noise that somehow creates a vibration under my chair, vibrating all of me momentarily. And as I type this, the assholes have started someone talking on the cell phone outside my door. Fucking bizarre.
They have poured on the rain outside again, and this has some benefit for the assholes, though many past winters have been exceptionally dry.
The collective woo-hoos are also playing tonight; this is the putative male group who are watching sports on TV, and something exciting occurs to warrant the exclamation. The thing is, they are too well timed with the usual stalkable activities that I do, mouse clicking, page re-displays, bookmarking etc.
2020h
More ass jabbing as I am bookmarking promising world music artists. And because my PC's sound got taken out in the last repair of the two hard drives, I cannot sample them to affirm my intuition. That is the way it goes as a matter of course. And while doing this, a succession of operatives departed the building, all slamming the front door that serves as the cover story for shaking my room. There are at least four rooms between me and the front door, and it is most odd that none of them complain about room shaking and the putative cause. But of course, I am likely the only resident in here if the last apartment building was anything to go by.
2140h
The perps have launched a noise flurry, including a noisy mufflered vehicle under my window, and have it idling away, making noise and vibration. All this sprang forth as I was looking at concrete building systems. It has been noted in past blogs, where the perps put on a mound of fresh concrete and placed it on a flatbed truck for me to pass by. Later in the same day had a large capacity redi-mix truck execute a right angle turn in front of me when I was walking on the sidewalk. And while tonight's capers were going on, they also jammed smells up my nose. What is their problem that they cannot come out of the closet and negotiate a expeditious avenue to their game playing fuckery?
And considering how many concrete pouring jobs I have been involved with in past house improvements, it is unbelievable that this collection of clowns is still chasing me with redi-mix trucks around town. (They are a once per week frequency). I have long come to the conclusion that the perps are not only organizationally depraved, but fucking psychotic crazy.
2250h
It has been relatively quiet for the past hour, and the uninterupted use of my earmuffs probably helped, but as always, I am sure it is helping the perps more than me.
One recent advent has been the occasional flares of red colored plasma in my field of view, usually peripherial vision. It appears that they cannot get enough of that color in front of me, and only in selective exposures. Not a big deal at present.
This is enough tedious detail for a posting, and time to blog off.
I have done my daily round of news trolling on the web, and it is always a noisestalked affair, in the form of the noisescape, the generalized noise, and the specifically targetted noise. In the latter case, upon reading the word "FBI", the glass bottle bashing sounded for one note. And as I wrote this, a hallway "resident" answered her cell phone only 5' from my door. It almost goes without saying that the cell phones seem to offer perp related benefits of a transient nature, likely the localized electromagnetic emissions. There are no end of them in my proximity, and that includes a call to the operative in the next door bathroom at 2315h last night, before her seeming shower, bath and toilet flushing act.
I got the double sentry honor guard for taking out my garbage last night. My garbage was a bonanza of some 10 boxboard toss-outs from the Cling Wrap (an objective of considerable harassment), chocolates, dental products etc. It was an all-time concentration of boxboard with the addition of the chicken packaging and the fat and bone that I took off the cooked bird when I got back from the grocery store yesterday. As I exited the front door, there was an operative ("rooming house resident") on either side of the stairway who then each turned by unified silent cue to enter the house via the front door that I opened. And strangely, the outside porch light was off when it is usually on.
And as part of that, the one operative who I am most familiar with of the two honor guards had a green shamrock painted on the side of this face that he turned toward me. This was the same as the house manager who had stopped by earlier in the day inquiring about my intent to give notice. In other words, there was a cover story over the St. Patrick's day celebration, and the green paint on their cheeks was part of the color exposure show that goes on interminably as one of the underpinnings of ambulatory and vehicular gangstalking. If this is where the assholes are at, painting shamrocks on their face once a year, then this depraved harassment has got a long run ahead of it, at least two more years by my reckoning, after five years of it so far.
A look at my email, even if spam, and the Inbox counter was meddled with to reflect a higher total than the extant unread email; observing this also got me a cell phone stalking in the hallway, only 2' away outside my door. I have yet to understand why the public hallway is a location for private banter. It as if this mentality is infectious as they all do this. Or more accurately, it is the orchestrated procedure for introducing specific noise (human voice) and commensurate electromagnetic activity within close proximity to me on a as-needed basis.
03-19-2007, 1350h
I am back to my room/cell after a Feral Family gangstalk time in front of the TV for dinner and later evening viewing. In that, I get to watch 60 Minutes, and that has to be one of the few regular shows that I see. But there were two shows from the UK, and the perps like me to hear British accents of all stripes, one of their obsessions.
I am getting the overhead clunking as I type this, and many of the words, especially nouns, seem to be of significant perp interest.
There were plenty of masers and plasma beams flitting around in the living room at my parents' place last night and both parents/quislings pretended not to notice anything. There were even off-TV plasma flashes as solid colors and a new variety, a checkerboard matrix about 2' in diameter.
1500h
I am getting a sustained noise flurry at the moment, and the plastic bag rustling and shaking is still going on in the hallway as I type this, and some throat clearing shills/operatives have arrived outside my room in the adjacent parking lot. (Meanwhile, I am getting severe typo sabotage as I key this in; it is a post Feral Family Visitation Monday, and the perps go apeshit with their stunts and noise games then).
For all my teabreak I was noisestalked, the most well timed was this absurd sudden onset squeak noise that they play, this one timed exactly to when I placed a square of chocolate in my mouth. It is at least the second such coincidence over chocolate eating this past week. And my outside noise crowd has now arrived, the throatclearing is a standard noise.
And left calf jabbing, as if a needle is being poked into the back of my leg from no ostensible cause, also with exquisite timing, for the exact moment I picked up the black plastic teapot lid. (The one they partially broke as they wanted the plastic to flap around more.) And I also have tea at my parents place from glazed stone pots, one is red and the other is blue. Surely that is enough teapot variation. Wrong, they are still fucking with every aspect of tea making and consumption, with the chocolate being its own perp interest, likely for its color. I noticed that an unglazed pot was "left behind" on the dining room table near where I sit, so there must be something about the glazes of pottery that is pissing off the perps. Once again, not my problem, so why am I being harassed over it?
One can be sure that no perp has the gumption to account for themself and tell me, that I know.
And when I drove my parents' Ford Escape into town to then park and get out at this putative rooming house that I live in, there was not only a delay in my mother assuming getting to the driver's seat, but there was at least a two ring circus going on outside as I was seated in the driver's seat, engine off, and listening to her.
First was this ongoing clown show, under the cover story of being a donations charity only 30' away, the Women In Need (WIN) charity which sells used clothing and furniture. Their truck is usually posted on the street parking, and their operatives regularly play with brown cardboard boxes (just when I look out the window), plastic bags, racks of clothing, brown colored furniture etc., and take racks of clothing across the street and back to another storage area. They got into translucent blue plastic bag lugging at first, then moved two grey plastic tote bins across the road to the tailgate of their truck. For the second one, the operative "decided" to play a game, and jumped onto the wheeled tote and rode it as if it were an oversized skateboard. Intentionally, he "forgot" about the curb, and when the tote bin contacted it, he deliberately rolled himself off onto the sidewalk and the tote bin also flipped and dumped its contents of clothes onto the sidewalk. (This may have also served the perps' fixations around concrete and its energetics of human interactions). So there he was, splayed out on the sidewalk with these clothes on and around him. And it was quite clear that he deliberately rolled off, it was not a consequence of the tote bin hitting the curb.
There was that banality, but picking up the grey theme, there were two operatives on each side of the street, walking W. in parallel. On the S. side was a woman in a two tone grey shawl and hood combination garment, and on the N. side was a man in black pants and a black jacket with a large grey-black Adidas logo on the back. So it would seem, that the perps were testing the color grey, with some black reference colors, in the form of clothing on a male and female, and in the form of plastic (the tote bin) which was used to bridge the street between the ambulatory operatives.
Then when my mother got out at the driver's side but still seated with the open door, she then had a yellowish piece of paper in hand, and went into an explanation about how there was a weaving exposition on in a few weeks. As I saw it, this was about more delays in getting in and out of the vehicle, which are getting more pathetic, protracted and obvious from her actions.
Past readers will know that I get to see a considerable number of people egressing their vehicles at any given moment on the street. They are even getting more blatant about having all four doors open, leaving the trunk open, and otherwise lounging at their vehicles when this behavior never happened with this frequency before. On any given 15 minute walk along thoroughfares there is at least 10% of them with doors or trunk open. My mother's delays over vehicle egress are not unexpected; it fits the pattern of all the other shills and operatives.
1550h
More hallway aerosol spraying has started up, under the cover of "air freshener". Once my mother was uncharacteristically gung ho on me getting the plug-in kind for my apartment in Seattle when she never used them herself. I never did figure that one out until recent weeks, or more like, I was not allowed to recall that fact and make that association until my brain jailers let me in on what I would know if I wasn't being fucked with. Nor was I allowed to know this fact and figure out that she was in on this sick minded invasion and harassment until the script called for it, some 7 months later.
1705h
More clinking, clunking, door slamming, room shaking and other well timed noises for the past hour or so of troving through online world music. Back to the frat house model and the steady stream of "residents" tromping through the building. As this is the pre-mealtime moment, the perps like to lay on the noise at this time, always coordinated with the excitement (to them) of selecting, cutting, pasting (Windows actions) and bookmarking websites, in this case, music. Then they now have me do the same for cinema, bookmarking potential films should I ever be permitted to get out of "brain jail" and live an unfettered life.
And for real excitement, they plant the name of a film in a music review, and have me attend to both within the same activity. Truly the stuff of sick and depraved minds, the ones of the "grey stalking" earlier.
1850h
The perps got me, (read mind-fucked me) into a rare rage state again, as this is the Psychopathic Assault Mondays again. This is the day they "borrow" whatever they have learned in the stayover at my parents and are applying it here. Something like that. They flicked the cheese about (again), flicked chicken pieces, jabbed me in the leg and ass with a pin pricking sensation, flicked dishes water about in impossible trajectories, and noisestalked me the entire time. Currently, as I type this, they have started up the overhead clunking again, and seem to be using it on "my" stock phrases that I use. (More like, am allowed to use).
And they have also been keeping the vision assaults going, particularly my right eye, which seems to indicate that they want to temporarily remove it from the neural processing so that they can look at what else to detect in real time. Consistent with past Mondays, it will take at least an hour to get to sleep tonight, just to keep this vile depravity going for as long as they can.
1915h
The perps have me on cranked up mood tonight; they are at their forehead numbing games which I detest, and have taken to creating a knocking noise that somehow creates a vibration under my chair, vibrating all of me momentarily. And as I type this, the assholes have started someone talking on the cell phone outside my door. Fucking bizarre.
They have poured on the rain outside again, and this has some benefit for the assholes, though many past winters have been exceptionally dry.
The collective woo-hoos are also playing tonight; this is the putative male group who are watching sports on TV, and something exciting occurs to warrant the exclamation. The thing is, they are too well timed with the usual stalkable activities that I do, mouse clicking, page re-displays, bookmarking etc.
2020h
More ass jabbing as I am bookmarking promising world music artists. And because my PC's sound got taken out in the last repair of the two hard drives, I cannot sample them to affirm my intuition. That is the way it goes as a matter of course. And while doing this, a succession of operatives departed the building, all slamming the front door that serves as the cover story for shaking my room. There are at least four rooms between me and the front door, and it is most odd that none of them complain about room shaking and the putative cause. But of course, I am likely the only resident in here if the last apartment building was anything to go by.
2140h
The perps have launched a noise flurry, including a noisy mufflered vehicle under my window, and have it idling away, making noise and vibration. All this sprang forth as I was looking at concrete building systems. It has been noted in past blogs, where the perps put on a mound of fresh concrete and placed it on a flatbed truck for me to pass by. Later in the same day had a large capacity redi-mix truck execute a right angle turn in front of me when I was walking on the sidewalk. And while tonight's capers were going on, they also jammed smells up my nose. What is their problem that they cannot come out of the closet and negotiate a expeditious avenue to their game playing fuckery?
And considering how many concrete pouring jobs I have been involved with in past house improvements, it is unbelievable that this collection of clowns is still chasing me with redi-mix trucks around town. (They are a once per week frequency). I have long come to the conclusion that the perps are not only organizationally depraved, but fucking psychotic crazy.
2250h
It has been relatively quiet for the past hour, and the uninterupted use of my earmuffs probably helped, but as always, I am sure it is helping the perps more than me.
One recent advent has been the occasional flares of red colored plasma in my field of view, usually peripherial vision. It appears that they cannot get enough of that color in front of me, and only in selective exposures. Not a big deal at present.
This is enough tedious detail for a posting, and time to blog off.
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