I keep getting references for Ireland, and they’re not for online purchases that can be shipped but for things that are local. This morning Google actually told me that on the basis of my activities, it thought that my location was Dublin. This stuff has been going on for a few weeks now. So I decided to ask ChatGPT.
“Why does Google think that I am in Ireland when I am actually in the Netherlands? I’ve never been to Ireland and I don’t know anyone there.”
It replied as follows.
Google may think you are in Ireland for several reasons, despite being in the Netherlands:
- IP Address Geolocation: Your IP address might be associated with Ireland due to how IP addresses are assigned and routed by your internet service provider (ISP). This can happen if your ISP has registered blocks of IP addresses in Ireland.
- VPN or Proxy: If you are using a VPN or proxy service that routes your internet traffic through a server in Ireland, Google will detect your location based on the IP address of the VPN or proxy server.
- Browser Settings: Your browser might be set to a location or language preference that suggests you are in Ireland. Check your browser settings for any indications that might lead Google to think you’re in a different country.
- Google Account Settings: If your Google account has location settings or history that indicate Ireland, this can influence Google’s assumptions about your location.
- Mobile Network: If you are using a mobile network, your IP address might change frequently, and sometimes these IP addresses can be misallocated in different regions.
To correct this, you can try the following steps:
- Check Your IP Address: Use an IP geolocation tool to see where your IP address is being detected. Websites like “What Is My IP” can help with this.
- Adjust Google Settings: Go to your Google account settings and ensure your location information is accurate. You can update your location in the “Personal Info” section of your Google account.
- Disable VPN/Proxy: If you are using a VPN or proxy, try disabling it to see if your location changes.
- Browser Settings: Check and update your browser’s language and regional settings to match your actual location.
- Contact ISP: If the issue persists, you may want to contact your ISP to check if they can reassign you an IP address that reflects your actual location.
By addressing these potential causes, you should be able to correct the location Google associates with you.
Are both my Dutch SIM cards currently using IP blocks in Ireland? Sudden persistent misallocation?
No. I checked. My IP address is a Dutch one. Currently, it gives me Utrecht as location. (Also, VPNs have never worked for me. I don’t know why. So that’s not a factor either.)
Why does Google keep thinking that I am in Dublin?
Here below’s yet another one of these strange things. This one is new. (Never mind the YouTube topics. They never make sense. I’ve not even watched anything with black cats, for example. I get the weirdest things in my feed sometimes, and also the weirdest “favorite topics”.)
Those roles are usually for local nationals only. I keep getting all sorts of venues that refer to street names too as if they are around the corner. Why does Google think I’m in Ireland? Dublin, in fact. Specifically Dublin.
Here’s another one. That too is in Ireland as you can see in the screenshot of what I saw when I clicked on it. And the one under that is Irish too. I get that on websites such as The Guardian and CNN too.
The above was on my tablet. On The Guardian’s site, on my computer, I am getting this:
So I clicked, and got this:
This is totally NUTS.
Sometimes, you get a few ads that are in the wrong language (German or Danish instead of Dutch) or that they target at migrants, but that’s only occasionally. It could happen when someone creates an ad campaign and accidentally ticks the wrong box or mixes up Dutch with Deutsch or thinks that the Dutch are Danish.
I’ve gotten ads for flights and ferries from Ireland to. There was a flight from Dublin to Perpignan. I’ve been to Perpignan once. I had no idea that there are flights from Dublin to Perpignan. I mean, yes, interesting, but I’m not in Dublin and I have no ties to Dublin. I don’t remember where the ferry went to. Oh, wait, I do. The UK, I think, but not to a place with a name that I was familiar with.
13 June 2024, 9:33: Ferries from Dublin to Rosslare and Pembroke it was a minute ago, on the site of The Guardian. I looked it up. Rosslare is in Ireland. Pembroke is in Wales.
I still haven’t figured out what this Ireland nonsense is about other than that maybe the police in England finally went after him and he’s fled to Ireland. That would be Charles, aka Charley aka Lee. People sometimes assume that hacking stops at international borders, but that’s not how this works. He has a thing with Dublin. He also has some kind of connection to Chester in England.
It looks odd, on the map. Does this mean that there are no such ferries but that there is a ferry between Rosslare and Pembroke? Yes, looks like it.
10:09: Oh. He probably means that he thinks that I would like Dublin. Yeah, well, there are many things that I might like if they were still accessible to me.
13 June 2024, 09:44: After the ad for the ferries disappeared, I got nothing but this ad all over the page. He’s often referred to himself as a dog (and god). Is this about him again? Yukon Design Studio is in Canada. (“Canada” – also Scotland – can be code for Stephen. He is or was based somewhere to the north relative to Portsmouth, according to the police.) That this ad is all over the Guardian page is odd. But, whatever. He’s also been playing with the word “shop” since I left Portsmouth. I’ve shopped him a few times, yes, sold him out, and it usually caused him to punish me. (Right now it seems to be “selling me out is going to cost you”. Or maybe it is part of the “women need to be tamed so that they will be forced to admit that they’re inferior to men and show men more respect”, which is some other nonsense that has cropped up a few times.)
No, I think it’s just an odd coincidence that this studio ad is all over the page.
10:25 Oh. I was getting some stuff about tortillas and meat, too. I don’t think I’ve ever ads for meat before. So I looked into what tortilla means in urban slang. Then it added up. It seems to be still the same bizarre shit that I used to get in Portsmouth too. There it was about sausage rolls, cages, bed slats and god knows what else. Often took me years to figure it out. The impression I got was that if they saw me pick up a half eaten or broken-off sausage roll, still in the wrapper, from the pavement because I was hungry, in their eyes, it meant that I was looking for sex instead of food. Or maybe willing to exchange one for the other. (That’s how crazy he or they were, yes.) Oh, and there was a theme with chocolate bars, too. Chocolate bars and bags and pens and bags. My sex drive went out of the door permanently shortly after I moved to Portsmouth, my appreciation for having a physical human presence around me ran off for good about a year later. Now, a lifetime of suffering later, I can’t stand having people around me any longer. I don’t want humans in my life any longer. I’ve simply been hunted down, abused and terrorized for far too long. I began to associate humans with going cold and hungry, too. All of that is besides not being able to talk about the bizarre shit in my life anyway – having little else left to talk about – and needing to stay away from people for that reason too. I just want to be able to feel safe and secure for an extended time, for the first time in a very long time. I want to be able to stop needing to be super vigilant all the time. (Portsmouth is a war zone to begin with. You can’t live there and feel safe.)
Well, okay, the point may be more that I no longer have the patience to put up with attention-seeking narcissists, huppelkutjes, dommedickies and other spoiled brats within a work environment. I can no longer do it. Most people just disgust me these days. I can look at them neutrally from a distance, and see their challenges, but I no longer have the energy to play the entertaining clown and fake patience just to keep everyone happy, put up with abuse because I understand what is behind it.
I simply no longer want to do that.
It’s someone with stupid incel attitudes that I have been dealing with since June 2008.
(I know very well how crazy all of this sounds, but that is because this is crazy, not because I am crazy because I know that I am not. The days that I doubted myself all the time under the barrage of stupid crap that I was exposed to are long gone. I’m a scientist. I can make sense out of data and patterns.)
(In 2009, they were convinced that the fact that I am a pescetarian – I very rarely eat meat – and have a tendency to avoid wheat products – sweet things – as I turn out to have a mild wheat allergy meant that I was sexually abused as a child. Oh, and because I showed sympathy for CSA victims on Twitter and because one woman in a Twitter account looked a little like me. They then spent two years trying to prove to my brain that it had multiple personalities. They nearly drove me around the bend. One day in 2011, I suddenly SAW what it was that they were doing; from then on, I was immune to it. Whoever exactly it is that has been doing this, they’re crazy. Utterly totally and very scarily crazy.)
The add for solar energy in Ireland is now near the top of the page; all the other ads are for the design studio.
End of stuff that I wrote on 13 June 2024.
I wrote a post about housing in Dublin but that was about an article in The Guardian. Did I write that post right before all these ads started popping up? But if that is what caused those ads, that would be pretty nuts. I have written about Israel, Gaza and Ukraine but that never resulted in ads that assumed that I was there.
If I’d searched for a lot of stuff in Ireland, that could explain it, perhaps, but I haven’t.
(Would I like to go to Ireland? That’s a totally different question. Do I want to be where I am now? Heck, no. But why Ireland? Why not Malaysia or whatever else I’ve mentioned in emails? Rwanda. I think I mentioned Malaysia once when I meant something else, but I haven’t gotten any ads that assume that am in Malaysia.)
I had an offer for a newspaper in Tampa Bay in my email just now. Yeah, well, that kind of stuff sometimes happens. I used to have accounts with local news providers there and probably still have a few, but I am not getting ads that assume that I am in Tampa or even Florida on the CNN and the Guardian websites and YouTube.
And yes, there continues to be hacking activity. On Friday, there was (pretty damaging) interference and yesterday there was some stupid stuff that I’ve seen in Portsmouth too. I decided to ignore it. This morning as well, I think. (I went to a very different article on a page than the one I had clicked on and the computer froze after that.) As of 30 May, I started getting all that “running out of space” stuff again (as in Portsmouth, except there I got it in Linux). (=”Nah nah nah nah nah” or in Dutch “lekker puh!” ) (It’s also when my phones and tablet suddenly went going ice-cold most of the time.)
(I am of course being evicted again. In some places in England, you can get to fight off an eviction attempt about every two years if not more often. There doesn’t need to be a specific reason for it. It;s different in the country where I am right now. I haven’t told anyone about this either; there’s no point. And I am certainly not going to tell a person who has severe medium- and long-term memory issues. It would just upset him. I try to keep as much from him as I can. I don’t always succeed. As many things seem to escape him these days, that probably doesn’t matter. I was so angry, so disappointed back in 2017 when I escaped to his place and he’d completely forgotten about it, I now know. I had no idea that his memory had gone so bad. I had noticed a major change in cognitive functioning, but I thought that he was just distracted, or taking testoron, perhaps. The court hearing was on 30 May. Running out of space. Ha ha.)
(Been dealing with this for 16 years, so I really just shrug. There’s nothing that he has not already done to me, twice or even more times, and there is literally nothing that he can still take from me. There’s nothing left. So I really just shrug.)
Btw, I have also often gotten a lot of ads to do with advanced computer stuff. Kubernetes, mostly. (See https://www.ibm.com/blog/kubernetes-use-cases/ and https://prolifics.com/uk/resource-center/specialty-guides/ultimate-guide-to-kubernetes/who-is-kubernetes-for) As demand for IT skills is usually high, this is not necessarily off, but I’ve also sometimes gotten many ads for electronics parts; I’m not sure what the electronics parts were for. Hasn’t happened in a while.
Oh, and he has a theme with “green” going on at the moment. That’s possibly somehow connected to or behind the Ireland thing. “green is the de facto national colour of Ireland” and “people generally wear green on St. Patrick’s Day as it’s the colour most associated with both Ireland and our Patron Saint.”
12 June 2024, 07:25. Had another odd ad, for “Cala Homes” but as soon as I wanted to take a screenshot, it disappeared and some Guardian poll showed up instead. Cala Homes turns out to be in the UK. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CALA_Homes Getting UK ads is not strange. Getting Irish ads, that is.
I’m so exhausted. So so so exhausted.
(I’m currently physically exhausted. It’s affecting me. That will pass.)
He’s a complete nutcase. Ever since I watched a Grey’s Anatomy’s episode in which Meredith Grey said to whoever was her boyfriend or husband back then that he was her home, he’s been toying with that idea. (When I turned 60, I turned into an ancient ruin, in his eyes, btw. It just made me laugh. It’s all about HIM.) He also sees humans – or maybe only women – as cars. He’s into really bizarre shit and I am so so so tired of getting it pushed down my throat and not getting to live my life any longer. Wtf does this bozo want from me? Why couldn’t he finally leave me in peace after I fled from Portsmouth for the fifth time? Why couldn’t he – and they – just let me LIVE in Portsmouth? Simply let me live?
(Yes, my feelings are sometimes ambiguous as there isn’t anyone else left in my life and he’s often been really manipulative. But I’ve wanted out of this situation since 2016, after things started really getting out of hand badly. In 2013, I still thought that a lack of cash was my main problem.)
He also played with the word “provider” for years. Stopped me from getting broadband and then later stopped me from transferring to a different one, for years. There was also a time, around the pandemic, when he constantly messed with my electricity supply; my account kept getting transferred. In 2011, the power in the building would sometimes get shut off by jokers who got into the building when I was the only one why was in. My water too was shut off as a joke one time. My first electricity bill at that address took 9 months to arrive. I found it when I left the building to go meet with people in Farnborough. The envelope had taken 9 months to arrive.
He also has a theme with water. And with the decapitation of birds. (Bird, of course, also stands for woman.)
He used to have a theme with cigarettes, too, but that’s largely disappeared and that probably just refers to himself. I think he likes picturing himself with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He may think that it gives him a certain cachet, fits his image, I don’t know.
Now I have to find a way to move to another country again. (Because I deserve the best. I certainly deserve more than misery.) How on earth am I going to do that?
But something’s changed. Lots of things have changed, in fact. I fled from Portsmouth and fleeing always puts you in the worst possible position, by definition.
13 June 2024, 11:46 to 12:45: I also sometimes get bombarded with things to do with a watch or with time. I just checked what watch means in urban slang and found this. Related or not, I don’t know.
But where does the idea even come from? It’s insane. Why would sane people do something like that? Why would crazy people do something like that? (Because that is what crazy people do? Is that the simple answer?)
I TOLD people that what I needed was to be able to disappear, simply disappear.
That is also what I learned in 2017 and 2018. I had previously already asked the police in Portsmouth if they could help me fake my death so that I could get away and not be followed. I don’t remember when exactly that was.
There was a day, years ago, maybe in 2015, when I sat in a chair at rehearsals for D-Day celebrations (usually not accessible for locals) on the Southsea Common, he apparently was behind my chair talking to me for a while. I am not sure because didn’t even really notice, but the person sitting next to me asked me if I was alright. There was a lot of jostling against my chair and I heard people talking but I wasn’t paying attention. When I later got up, I was surprised to see that it was nowhere near as busy as I had assumed it was, in view of the jostling and I found a bunch of cut cable ties behind my chair. At the Fratton Bridge roundabout, when I was walking home, a white van drove up to me at the curb (US) or kerb (UK), but I kept walking, of course. The van drove around the roundabout then and drove past me into Fawcett Road when I crossed the zebra and the driver yelled “Oi!” at me. I think it was him. A guy that I had had three appointments with in 2008, the first one on 9 June 2008. He began targeting me within 24 hours.
He has no idea how immensely creepy he is.
One time, as I was crossing the zebra going to Asda, he walked past me there. It’s his insanely intense focus on me while pretending not to see me that alerts me to his presence and makes me look and think “Oh, was that him? I think that was him”. It was followed by a “circus” at Asda.
I couldn’t go anywhere with my phone on me. If I wanted to have four hours or so of freedom, I had to dash out of town suddenly and pay for my train ticket in cash, and make sure to have no phone on me.
One time, I was making videos at a cemetery and he sent someone after me to pester me. I was soo soo soo creeped out that time.
Another time, I was doing a litter-pick near the bridge along Eastern Road and he sent someone after me just to say stupid stuff to me.
One time before when I was doing a litter pick along Langstone Harbour’s western shore, I found that someone had torn lots of small holes in the bag that I had already filled up and left near the foot path for a minute. Some guy who I encountered shortly after told me that I had a really big dog.
The dog reference was also made before a bird in my home was interfered with. In a Twitter DM, someone asked me how my dog was getting along with the bird. I don’t know why but it sounded ominous, possibly because birds had been attacked before and I’d gotten an advance warning each time. I didn’t have a dog. An angle grinder was used on the bird in my home but it drew no blood.
You can’t live like this for 16 years and not be impacted by it.
You can’t live like this for 16 years, still be a target and not be impacted by it in any way. The person I used to be is gone.
I’m so scared.
Because someone who’s apparently been utterly obsessed with you for 16 years, never communicates with you openly (unless perhaps in a very negative manner) and follows you into other countries repeatedly, that alone is scary as hell.
But the next emotion is always anger and determination.
