Wilted..
(begun Sunday 12th August at 5.10am..)

And the whine goes on... Balliram had apparently dumbed down the system yesterday, ahead of their little soiree last night, and boy, was I grateful for the respite..  He or Freddie had checked in on me constantly throughout the day, and all I'd had to do was curse out loud for the pain to disappear.. *beams..
All that had changed dramatically around 4.30pm, and Millie'd woken to protest loudly as I sat down in front of the PC...
The Berg wind conditions outside had mysteriously arrived in the lounge itself a little later, after I'd shut down, and I grew hotter and hotter until I took out the Panasonic and caught a series of pictures of the spheres hanging about on the wall and up by the ceiling fan.. See THIS one?  Three of them, from tennis-ball size down to gob-stopper.. Pretty?   When I'd gone online after 4.30pm and headed over to mybroadband to catch up, was precisely when our Goondaboy saw fit to drop his Mistuh Nice Guy cover for the day...

He'd cranked up my pain levels off the charts, and I figure at least part of that violence was for the Telecom's Strategist's personal benefit... *winks..  Our Janneman is unable to do anything much about my regular visits to his recruitment centre, and my occasional posts there.  To acknowledge me openly in any way would give me credence, and that ain't about to happen.. A rock and a hard place, Jannie? Never mind, your Puppets down this end will take care of things for you?  You can safely leave the sadist Balliram to continue sending me your agonising messages fosho...
By 9.30pm last night the thumping in-your-face sound system had fallen silent, unlike in years gone by, when the thudding doef-doef-doef bass would fill the neighbourhood until 4 or 5am the following morning...

Had his guests suddenly remembered they had to be up early this morning, and made their excuses to escape the huge clusters of invisible spheres that surrounded them?  Did they figure out for themselves that for the few hours they spent next door, they too were being used as Labrats, simply for my Controller to make a point? *vomits...
I woke at 2am drenched in sweat, and took myself for a pee.. When I'd climbed back into bed my two pillows had retained an astonishing core of heat where my head had been... A circle of heat that went right through both pillows..*awed..  I didn't have to put the light on to check my face to know that His Shiftyness had been practising his cooking skills again.. *eyeroll...
He'd already begun displaying his irritation at 10.45pm last night, when he'd suddenly stuck a knife into Millie, along with some fairly hectic earache, as I lay on Cloud 9, tsk, tsk, and I guess the 2am cookout was the culmination of his frustrated rage...  *yawns...

About twenty minutes ago, as I sat here by candlelight scribbling away at the desk, he'd hit me above the right temple, and I'd looked up and told him to quit it, which amazingly, he'd done... Is he 'adjusting' my blogger stats?  I'd had a look late yesterday afternoon and had been astonished to find that 67 people had apparently visited me.. What people?  Rubber-necking ghouls, revelling in my reports of the increased assaults, since the arrival of the toolshed and it's laser-friendly zinc roof?

I'd signed up with Twitter on July 20th, merely to have my blog updates put out in the open.. It only occurred to me yesterday that I could now tweet the owner of durbanite.coza, so I'd checked out Leon Chetty's profile to find that he doesn't appear to have tweeted since July 22nd..*blinks..  When I'd asked the Aviator, he'd insisted that there's no way one can be blocked from seeing certain User's tweets, unless they change their nick, but of course that was from a chap who claims that my photos aren't of holograms, but of faeries.. *grins grimly...

LATER at 6.55am

I stood next to the Polo and studied the strange stormy sky as the clouds headed out over the ocean, leaving what looks be be clear skies in their wake...
Global warming is a fact of life, but in our case, I'm certain we've acquired a local chapter of those clever Weathermen HAARP, set up to assist the Authors in their push for chaos and misery, created across the country...
As I stepped out into the courtyard my eyes had been hit by the Chronic Fatigue Frequency flooding the air outside.. Back indoors after picking up the Times, the Sadist had chosen to run the BackFire frequency at extreme levels, and I'm constantly walking into pockets of  tooth-filling rattlers... Any pretense he made yesterday at dumbing the system down, has most definitely left the building, and the 'upgrade' means that included along with the increased levels of BF, I've now the earache and aching fillings to contend with.. All good, hey Balliram?

Monday 12th August at 3.30am

They woke me sometime after 2am.. They?  Yeah, it was as if the ChickenKing was running through his repertoire to impress someone.. He'd kicked me awake with the BackFire, then gone after Sophie's ears, and then the other dog's as well.. After I'd settled her in the lounge, she'd then leapt up and gone nuts at the window by the computer.. *yawns... One of Balliram's tired old party tricks that lost it's ability to impress a long time ago...
Sure I took some pictures, but apart from THESE two, I caught nothing... What is that, up by the airvent in the kitchen?  Don't tell me I actually caught a laser flying in there?  Oh, and you can see the little sphere hanging up against the neon strip light, that I hadn't switched on HERE....

The huge levels of pain are fading now that I'm up, and I imagine the middle-aged Tutor and his older pupil have ducked and run for the moment, satisfied with their achievements... The more I think about Saturday night, the more curious I become... There'd been at least three cars parked outside No. 6 on the verge, while the sound system was belting out it's doef-doef music..
Had Balliram warned his guests that they were to be a part of his demonstration?  That he was going to literally flood the air with whatever it is that creates those spheres?

Like I've said, my photos are all dated and give the time they were taken, so there's no question that I got it wrong, and although your average layman doesn't recognize the implications, there are many more of you that do... Why on earth would he subject his own guests to such an over-the-top theatrical display unless they knew of his intentions beforehand?  Were they all tucked safely inside the ChickenCoop for the duration?  And when they began leaving after 9pm, did none of them experience any ringing in their ears, pins and needles, or aching knees?
I've quite literally never seen such dense gatherings of the holograms before, and they most certainly weren't restricted to just the air around ours...

Had he promised Missus C he'd dumb the system down, to allay her anxieties, and then at around 5pm he'd changed his mind and opened up the floodgates, without telling her?  In truth, I'd had a remarkably Millie-free day up until I'd gone online at around 4.30pm, when the shit had begun to hit the fan in earnest, and hadn't let up... Anyone care to check with Missus Courageous that she's aware of all this?  She's more than welcome to see the astonishing pictures I managed to take, and to decide for herself whether I'm exaggerating or not...

Hmm.. it's now 4am, and a stealthy jab to the back tells me the Goonda isn't asleep by a long shot...
I'd suggested in my previous blog that the Scapegoat from No. 12 steps up to the plate and shows us what he's made of, and the two of them had done just that, last night.. *eyeroll... They'd waited until Downton Abbey came on before unleashing the fires of hell upon me as I sat in my corner of the lounge, and I'm able to reassure Earl that Freddie is as loyal a subject as he ever was..*beams..
How's the faithful Joyce doing these days?  No symptoms whatsoever, after all these years in the line of fire? No agonising joint pains, earache, or burning hands?   Or did she experience all of that and more back in 2005, before you were able to 'adjust' the system in some way?  *fascinated...

I confess my enthusiasm at the thought of showing my pictures to the Mast Fighter has wilted considerably since the combined derision displayed by both the Aviator and the GameWrecker... While I don't doubt their authenticity for a second, there's a little voice that asks me why I would want to share them with Ms. Dorny, only to have them dismissed as magical spectres...  The Rocket Scientist has fallen silent since I sent him a couple of blogs, in a foolish attempt to bring him up to speed, and it's pretty much a given that my incoherence hasn't worked in my favour at all... *grins wryly... Whoever it was that decided early on in this horrific game that left to my own devices, I would prove again and again to be my own worst enemy, hit the nail on the head...

A small matter - The GW mentioned yesterday that the anti-virus prog had picked up some malware that referred to my Documents, and AFAIK that's a first since we did the 'upgrade' a couple of months ago...
Want to tellus where you stashed that nasty, Balliram?  What have you fiddled with and where?  My CPF addies perhaps?  The GW doesn't have the skills to track it back to the source, but 'Jane' is enough for me to know that your mischief continues... I guess my Area Controller frequently forgets he's jumped ship, and is now purportedly a part of the ridiculously named Good Team?
Peace..

---oOo---

Monday 12th August 2012 at 9.16am.