COME OUT, COME OUT......
(begun Sunday 23rd November at 4.05am....)
I've been sitting here at the desk in the dark for a bit. It's overcast, and the lights from Brickfield Road cause the trees to be outlined against the sky almost leaf by leaf.
Even something as tiny as a canary or white-eye would be unmissable should it land here in the coral tree..... Not a peep as yet...*winks..
I had some more copies made yesterday, of the picture that graces each of my now seven photo albums.... It is just so........ apt! *roffels.... You remember back when little Cola got his lower jaw trapped in his flea collar and struggled for ages until his sister finally alerted me? Here.
How the Fowl King had arrived promptly in answer to my phone call. So promptly that I was still busy snapping pics of the frantic little beast, and had no idea el Maestro was leering round the corner of the wall as I clicked? Only as he emerged from cover and I walked off looking at my results did I finally see what I had captured....*falls over laughing delightedly...
Miraculously, it is the very essence of the Project that now adorns the front of all my albums. Captain Courageous looking for all the world like a Peeping Tom caught in the act...*chokes..
Later
A minute before 4.30am and he simply couldn't resist and briefly activated the canary/white-eye...*cackles.... I walked and watched as the tail lights of a car glowed red through the trees .. Someone pulled in to the outbuildings over at St. Theresa's at that early hour. Security checking on the GateKeepers? Charlie Anderson?
A really nice guy, but as soon as I discovered he was privy to the Rotten Apples and Barnabas' monitoring of my landline, he sort of lost his appeal...*gags....
Back then the Crooked were too busy having fun at my expense to engage their brains...*lawls..
At 5.00am I went up the top to find the Howard College MTB still ablaze with lights. Despite it's beauty, I have to view it as a symbol of the rot that has spread throughout this town...*shrugs... The huge ongoing lies from Eskom surrounding the powercuts necessary to install the Information Theft Project, nauseate me....
The yellow-billed kite has successfully caught his breakfast and sits now in a gumtree across the way to feed. The doves go back to the birdtray.
Joey barks miserably and continuously by their top gate. His family must be away. Not so my charming Master... He is very much home, and busy as a beaver as his three animals disrupt the Sunday morning air with their excited shrieks, unchecked.... *grins..
My Master knows that Basil has to go and try to sleep in a back room to escape the racket. He enjoys that Sue the Book is often woken by the yapping.... It's the small things like this, that keep the Foul King really happy...*laughs...
Again I have to applaud vodacom3g for Their choice of First Controller of Our Known Universe.... The wanker now probably sits randomly activating the audio-monitoring of all the houses nearby in the hopes of hearing the owners grumbling about his dogs. Would I kid you? *cackles..
Tis this base level of childish spite that feeds the charming Jack Hunter....*lawls.... Eh, I know him way too well.....
Later 7.45am
The Massa eventually tires of winding up his furry slaves and they are silent for the moment. Catching up on much needed sleep, as doubtless are the neighbours unfortunate enough to live within earshot of this 'piece of shit' (you will pardon my borrowing el Maestro's own terminology at this point, but the cap is such a perfect fit, I can't resist).
If you are confused by my contradictory remarks on the subject of the Lout of my Life, you need look no further than the Stockholm Syndrome...*shows it's teeth.... I've only the vaguest idea of what it's on about, but guess that it applies quite neatly to my situation....*beams...
My utter lack of hatred and instead, bizarre fondness for a lowlife of such grand proportions. The mild anxiety I feel as I connect and use the internet on odd occasions, without any problems at all...*laughing... The complacent resignation I feel when he and his cronies resume their mischief online. Such weirdness will hopefully be clarified by this so-called syndrome and if not, could be written up as the Toady Syndrome....*cackles....
To the cretins who suggest I shut the fuck up while the going is good, I recognize minimal brain function when I see it dudes....*waves wildly....
el Maestro de Pollo's brain (which turns out to be no larger than a pea FFS) lays down the rules here. What is it about 'life' that you don't understand? *shrieks.... He has a reason to sit fairly quietly for the moment, and whatever that is, doesn't involve my well-being....
You will therefore pardon me if I continue to reveal the true character lurking behind the carefully nurtured facade you find so awesome...*chokes.... You may well be disappointed when finally you realise there is very little of substance to Little Willy, other than self-gratification and spite....*grins at how familiar that sounds..
His single-minded and desperate need for revenge must be fed. If not sooner, then later. I should be astonished were my life to suddenly become run-of-the-mill and boring, and I would hazard that he and his fellow bullies work feverishly on their next productiion....*waits with interest....
Later
Attachop from Shugaland took up his position somewhere in the valley at about 1.30pm.. He has an airgun and ...... what? A mate with a pellet gun or firecrackers? Unlike the Wanker sent in by Baron Frankson to pose and prance about on Friday 29th June 2007, here with his flash airgun, this lot make absolutely sure they aren't seen...*shrugs...
Doubtless they will crawl back into their sewer when they need a fix, and young Baron will be happy to oblige....*cackles... I heard several pellets whine past our bottom wall....
The Airwing chopper darted past just after 2.00pm, and the marksmen have gone silent as they mull that over.... They needn't worry about firing an airgun in a residential area, as the chopper is busy with some pretty dodgy business itself, and unlikely to be interested in petty criminal activities....*laughs...
Later
My head is seriously cooked this evening. Too much info and a minimum of space to think it over, and we have a problem Houston...*gurns..
Like I would/could tell you what I really feel about Debbie leaving the forum? Not a chance! Tis wiser to just grin and gibber on regardless...
Did I feel the net as it was tossed over me and tightened? That right now I feel cornered, and question every post I read? *keels over.... Was that the plan Stan?
I frankly don't give a toss whether it's Jannie from Buffelsfontein or Pieter from Roggebaai... Feline of Cape Town? Where does she fit into all this?
Some 'kind' soul arranged the posts so that I couldn't miss them, and like a sheep I followed...*roffels... Though my emo comment on iMod's blog didn't appear to publish, I'm now getting email updates whether I like it or not! *laughing....
The most cryptic remark made in the post showing Debbie's IRC chat, was that she didn't think the permanent ban came from the mods...*puzzled.... All the links in the world given by Karl Muller will not help me now. With the attention span of a golfball, and the inability to decipher the most basic of language, I am screwed. *grins..
I know what I know, and I s'pose joking aside, it's horrific..... Even if by some miracle you believed my story, it won't save you either in the long run....*shrugs... Neighbour set to spy on neighbour and power circuits given to unqualified and seriously unstable thugs to manage?
Online, the IRC cops close ranks and protect this criminal as one of theirs. That's life and I'm over it....*shrugs..
Slating ic doesn't work either.. He is a good guy, who despite being spellbound, is basically still a good guy. *smiles... To what end Karl Muller returns to post, I know not. Whether his purpose is to terrify me, or reassure me, is unclear...*cackles...
It's been a simple matter in the past for my Controller to remove posts he hasn't wanted me to see.. the mere fact that someone continues to bump the thread has me hitting my Ambivalence button....*shrieks...
I shall continue to regard the posts as no more than extremely interesting, and in so many ways, confirmation of the dirty work at the crossroads I've been squealing about for years...*cackles...
With any luck the Sweeper, Missus Accountant, and Dilshaad will also be reading Karl Muller's posts and begin to question the safety of their own offspring.... That there may in the long run, be a terrible price to pay for the benefits the Beast has heaped on them....*shrugs..
That their amusement at my efforts to warn them, may ultimately turn sour. Missus C knows well that Rage goes before Reason when it comes to her SO.... that his family's safety are secondary to his desire for self-gratification... Hell, any fool could've figured that out by now (and did)....*grins...
Much use has been made of the mundane and commonplace to assist in achieving DLOS. An old white plastic chair moved strategically about the grassland under the gumtrees, and even the load of polystyrene balls dumped at the corner of the Senior Boys Hostel. Here and here...
The plastic packet mentioned yesterday however, was not moved and attached to the trunk of a gumtree...*keels over... On closer inspection a packet-sized chunk of bark had fallen? off a branch, creating a startlingly white marker between Khaled's and the Recreation Centre... Or not...*shrugs... Peace...
---oOo---
Monday 24th November 2008 at 6.26am.
