Doing his usual tricks, shutting down computers, blocking internet access, messing with printers and all that.

I wasn’t surprised as I already caught him doing some stuff this morning and Christmas often whips him up into some kind of frenzy.

And you know what, I am pretty sure that I know exactly where he is right now! (Because of specific things that are happening on my computers right now.)

I feel sorry for him.

Anyway, enjoy the holidays, folks. This too shall pass.

17:35: He’s stopped that nonsense again. I think he gave up at around 16:00.

25 December, 9:56: He’s been at it again for an hour or so. I had intended to watch some films later today and tomorrow. (If things stay the same, then I won’t be able to will find a way to do that anyway. Oh. Can’t do that on a 32-bit computer. I’d forgotten. Garfield etc on ITVX. Oh well, I’ll do something else, then. 15:41: Oh. He just put a stop to that too? Hacker dude, you’re sad.15:44: Nah, seems that that was not hacker dude, for a change. Good.)

There were a few solo comings and goings in the flat under mine last night. Heard the doors close several times, such as at 1:30 am. (There also was a later point at which the flat door and then the front door closed. At around 3:15 or so, I heard a car drive off, but that may have been the woman on the ground floor who often seems to work crazy shifts these days and I feel sorry for her. I was too asleep to hear whether it was indeed her car.)

This kind of stuff has been going on for years and I did catch a stranger going into that flat once – on an Easter Monday, early in the afternoon – when the neighbor was out. I happened to have seen him leave from my kitchen window. And he had no idea of it, that someone went into his flat then.

I’m going online with my old 32-bit computer because he’s disabled the other one. I just heard some rattling of the HDD of that older one and then this popped up, spontaneously.

On the other computer too, I’ve seen Bluetooth services activated without there actually being a Bluetooth adapter, but in that case he was using my plugged-in (tethering) phone. (See below, for more on this.)

Right now, he seems to be doing something else.

Let’s just say that when you plug something your computer into a socket in this place and it trips a fuse, you have to wonder what else exactly might be sitting in the circuit that triggers such a big counter current that it trips the fuse. (I remember from physics classes a long time ago, that you create some kind of counter current the moment you plug something in and close the circuit. Likely related to how much wattage it requires or, wait, was it how big a resistance it imposed?)

Yeah, at it again. Is doing his weird “low disk space” shit again. Have had that for so many years. So that’s what the rattling of the HDD was about. The computer froze for a moment at that point.

This confirms it. He wants me dead.

(Because the longer I stay alive, the greater the risk that he will be exposed and caught. That theme’s been playing for years. He wanted me to leave Portsmouth, but he had stupidly made it impossible for me to leave. He’s torn between wanting to keep me as a powerless tamagotchi and making me leave so that he won’t be caught and his bullshitting of others and his abuse of me become exposed.)

My health is very very bad – which he knows; I had a heart attack on the 13th, though I am not particularly worried about my heart as I know it well, but it was a warning sign – and I’ve begged him to give me some space. His response is to do the opposite.

Portsmouth SUCKS. It’s a bunch of bigoted small-minded worms. Their othering of me has enabled this years-long horrific abuse of me, my stupid sadistic slavery situation.

I later googled whether the bluetooth shit was urban slang because a lot of the stuff that’s been in my life since I moved to Portsmouth turned out to be urban slang, and most of it referred to sex acts or genitals. This is what I found:

No, that’s true, I don’t suck dicks. All I still want to do with dicks that get stuck in my face is cut them off and throw them in the garbage (preferably, the garbage disposal that American sinks have, ha ha; it would shred them to pieces). I wouldn’t even feed them to hungry pigs.

The world would be a much better place without dicks.

(But you’d have to cut off their balls too, because men without dicks tend to become violent. It’s the result of hormone action, apparently.)

Oh, wait a minute, ha, ha, might the space thing on my HDD be the same thing as there being no space in my “mailbox”? (That stupid message that I got for weeks when I picked up my landline about me being at death’s door and there being no space in my mailbox.)

I lost my sex drive at the start of 2010, within a year after having moved to Portsmouth. The horrific abuse that I was subjected to and continued to be subjected to had a lot to do with that. Everything.

(And yes, I was very pleased to see it go! I do NOT want it back, not even if you paid me a million bucks.)

What would HDD mean in urban slang?

Ha. Looks like I was right!

So this is 4chan/8chan incels after all? Oh-kay.

Nope, I am not a docile sperm bucket and I don’t suck dick. Get over it, you wet-eared whiny wusses.

For visitors from abroad: Welcome to England on Christmas Day. Yep.

And you thought that it was a sweet idyllic place like you get to see in Hollywood films. (Most misogynistic place on the planet with the exception of Taliban regimes. Literally. As per UN report. But okay, this really IS wet-eared whiny incels who are doing this. You know what they’re like.)

And yes, I am in my sixties. And these 22-year-olds obsess over me living on my own and me demanding to be allowed to lead my own life.

Ten years ago, it was a different bunch of 22-year-olds.

What can I say?

But their deep-seated immense hatred of women and their contempt for them, their conviction that women do not possess working brains, is pretty chilly, frankly. It makes something in my chest want to contract. (No, it’s not my heart.)

It’s pretty damn CREEPY. It’s seriously creepy.

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Never mind. It doesn’t matter. And I can’t change a thing about any of this anyway.

Enjoy your Christmas, folks.