Like flies...
(begun Saturday 4th August at 4.10am.)
It had been pure luck that I'd been looking out across the valley just after 8am yesterday.. A big old white tip lorry HERE had pulled in behind the trees at the end of the little bluff closest to the Recreation Centre, (Mr. Dawood's personal rubbish dump), and shortly after that, the first white puff of smoke had appeared in the undergrowth..
You'll maybe have forgotten the mini-drama some time last year, when a Muni Parks Dept. truck had disgorged a band of uniformed wekkers who'd proceeded to blatantly drench the grass and bushes with gasoline before setting it alight? HERE and HERE. I'd managed to get the Fire Department involved at the time, and hopefully who ever had arranged for that conflagration had gotten at least a sharp slap on the wrist for their cheek... *snarls...
And here they are again, only this time they'd gotten someone else to do their dirty work for them..*eyeroll.. One of the guys was tipping stuff about from a container and the smoke was increasing, so I'd called the Fire Dept. and put in a report.. *winks.. Hey, I'd barely put the phone down when that rust-bucket of a lorry tore back down the hill and the fire was doused. Way too quick for the Fire Dept. to have sent someone out to investigate, so howTF did they know there might be a problem with the old Snitch? Balliram? Care to volunteer a guess? You'd eavesdropped on my call, and made a quick one of your own to the mischief-maker across the way? *nods...
They weren't going to take this Nosy-Parker's interference lying down, that's for sure.. They'd waited a while before the lorry had pulled in ostentatiously below the Senior Boys Hostel and had tipped a whole load of rubbish onto the already existing mess.. The old man managed to take a picture of the operation, but it's unlikely that anything will come of it..
My bet would be that the Crooks in the Muni's Land Section have already flogged that additional piece of greenbelt, if not to Mr. Dawood's Roseanne cc, then to the highest bidder, and if they want to dump on it, what's to stop them? *shrugs...
It's now 4.45am, and the BackFire has suddenly gone through the roof. So bad in fact, that it had me on my feet fetching the camera, though on this occasion I didn't manage to pin down any visible proof of the sphere that you know is hanging up there somewhere behind me...
I'm totally bored of/with, and by, the pretense that Collin P Balliram isn't personally guilty of these onslaughts. While the Coward will make sure that his chommies are involved on the odd occasion, you can rest assured that the worst of the assaults are engineered by his own filthy hand, and no other... Though my pussy-footing around implications that the single-minded savagery could after all be ascribed to the innocent efforts of his students learning the ropes, and not the Sick Chop himself, it was never set to last... While my self-generated about-turn may have amused that Band of NIA-affiliated pigs mightily, a week is all it's taken for me to find it tedius in the extreme..
Seriously, there's no bloody Advanced Class running at 4.45am on a Saturday morning, no matter which way you look at it.. Only the Sad Creature lurking in his Bunker next door, fulfilling his self-gratification, as he awards himself more brownie points.. *pukes...
The engineered mischief had continued long after the tip-lorry had dumped it's first in-your-face load of rubbish yesterday, and all the dogs, right up to No. 14, had repeatedly insisted there were intruders down below in the valley... A neat setup which had back-fired on it's Producer badly, when I'd called my Good Neighbour at No. 10 to warn her. That wasn't supposed to happen, now was it, Balliram? *finger...
There'd been a slender, hatless young man, (who in no way resembled the vagrant I'd mentioned a few days ago, over under the gumtrees) artfully posed on the grassy bank below No. 14 with his book and backpack, and I'm betting that our Controller was using his dog-disturbing frequency freely, to set the canines frothing repeatedly...
The same silly but effective means that this Goonda next door has always employed in his one-man mission to cause mischief on behalf of his Boss, Michael Barnabas....
Anyone missing an old door? Believe it or not, there's a door been laid on top of the storm water drain's manhole down the bottom of the valley... I didn't see it arrive but it's surface had appeared to be shining wet in the sunlight.. A swift coat of the 'invisible' lumo paint perhaps? A necessary halfway bounce-off point for the laser showers? Easily portable, I guess it can be shifted about the valley for optimum effect?
My Controller is thoroughly enjoying the additional precision afforded him by the zinc sheets so near our lounge, and the attacks on my neck and abdominal area have increased accordingly. I'd finished updating my blog after 9am yesterday, and had stood up from the computer only to take a savage blow to the kidney area.. An ache that had persisted for some minutes before it vanished as swiftly as it had arrived... Even if I were a raving hypochondriac, I'd still struggle to come up with the huge variety of health problems that this fantastical technology can achieve, under the control of the corrupt...
Pefectly safe, Mr. Roux? Certainly not once your colleage Petruccione had added his efforts to the mix.. Where is our Chris de Burgh look-alike as I scribble here by candlelight, on this dark and chilly morning?
Sleeping like a babe, or in another time-zone altogether, as he happily oversees the technology's installation and hands it the criminals to control in some distant country?
Would the little man be offended by my jibes? Would he consider them libellous in any way? That would most definitely be a no... Why would a published scientist bother himself with the squeals made by a worthless Labrat? Nope. Our Stef won't be about to let his boat get rocked by the likes of this Eejit, and by now he's doubtless come to regard himself as some sort of deity, as do so many of the lower orders given control of the laser/wireless technology.. Ain't that right, Balliram?
You could wipe me out once and for all, at the tap of a key, but you've somehow been persuaded to allow my self-generated ailments to do the job, as that way it'll be delightfully slow and messy? Every now and then the severity of the attacks tells me you're battling with your always-dodgy self-control, and it's a tossup whether you'll be able to stick to the prescribed script, or lose the plot entirely... *snorts...
Lest I forget the usefulness of the ability to remotely drain batteries? Well, it's not exactly able to drain the things completely, unless he has plenty of time to work on it...
He can kill a car's battery dead overnight, but in the case of my camera, all he needs is to remotely block the charge and that baby will give me the Error message and switch itself off...
A neat little trick that he'd employed yesterday while I was standing up top, next to the Polo, taking pictures of Mr. Dawood's hired tip-lorry.. I'd gotten THESE two shots before Balliram woke up and smacked the camera battery.. I'd gone down and removed them, and left them to recover for a while.. Sure, it shortens their overall life-span considerably, but they're by no means completely kaput, and I used them again successfully for the rest of the day...
I'm sure you can figure out just how useful this wireless technology is, to the Criminal element, and as our own Area Controller has demonstrated so ably, it can be used to stop your computer in it's tracks, your camera, your cellphone, your car's remote and your car's battery..
Anything in fact, that has a battery, is now fair game to the Corrupt controlling this wondrous technology...
You might like to bear that in mind should one of your trusted appliances give up the ghost. Remove the darned battery and try resting it for a bit before you replace it.. Just a thought... *waves..
The garden's in winter mode, and it's been nearly a month since last the Landscape Artist was here to daub the laser-attracting compounds about the property, and work at killing off the plants he's ordered to....
I sent him a text early yesterday to say he could come over today, and when I hadn't had a reply after half an hour, I'd called him.. He'd hesitated and said he'd let me know..
Who did he hastily call after that? It took him a good half hour to reply in the affirmative, and I've little doubt he was getting his orders and arranging for more substances to be delivered, before he made his way to ours this morning... *yawns...
Another seriously bright young man who's been persuaded to find the physical laser attacks humorous, and of no lasting consequence.. Once again, the old woman is up on her feet and her mouth is still working, so how bad can it be? Many of you who chortle with undisguised glee at the agonies reportedly suffered by our three households, may yet come to have a taste of your own vile medicine..
I'll certainly not be holding my breath in anticipation, but Fate sometimes comes back to bite you when you least expect it, does it not? *limps off-stage...
LATER at 7.45am
Another tragedy that'll go for the most part unnoticed... *sighs.. Young V is here and he tells me that at some point since I saw him last, his shack-mate had passed away.. Fat lot of good the DSTV bait did for him, and you can bet the games they played with the lasers didn't help either... AIDS, you say? TB? Or simply too much of the 3 Stooges fantabulous technology filling the air over at the Palmiet jondolo? He would've died anyway, so what's the fuss?
Do you HEAR yourselves? *gags...
The 'woop!' remote has just sounded, and a short while later several Knives to the Back tell me I've got company here at the desk....
Peace julle, if you can find it....
---oOo---
Saturday 4th August 2012 at 2.58pm.
