September 11

10:54 Just re-edited this post for clarity and consistency mainly of language. My English and writing experience have improved a lot since, best would have been to re-write it but then it wouldn't be written at that date anymore so i just made some adjustments. September 11 2001 was the day when my American dream ended.

11:00 Last night in McMinville, close to the end of the variant coming from west, around 4 AM in a no passing zone. Traffic was slowing down, there was a Sherrif's car (white) in front of me which pulled on the shoulder, without flashing lights. Passed it and looked in the mirror to see what was doing, it had one headlight out of adjustment, when the van/suv in front of me suddenly stopped, however i saw it in time and stopped myself. Then it slowly passed a second Sherrif's car that was again stopped on the shoulder, without flashing lights and incoming blinding traffic. LPN number of the vehicle in front of me was DYLAN or close. I tried to do a reverse LPN search on a site and it came up with a different vehicle. 

Both Sheriff's cars stayed behind and disappeared from sight within 30 seconds.

Went outside to check if the traps laid by Eradicon are stinking already. The one close to our building was not anchored to the building, with a screw laying on the ground. I tried to shake it to see if there's anything inside, i guess there wasn't.

12:15 The story of  the bike of the "guy upstairs" is long and i have avoided it because it was paralleling (mirroring, doubling, superseding) many other things i was writing about. It started i guess the next day or days after i wrote a long post in Romanian about cars, mainly because of some erroneous and incomplete article i read on a Romanian site. I put in that post as much as i could from my own experience with cars, gained in 27 years since i owned the first one, in 1995 or when i came to the US. A "wooden" 1983 Ford Fairmont that i bought on the street.

So he bought this 1997 Suzuki Savage and started working on it almost every day, sometimes for hours in a heat over 90 degrees. The week they started to work on our building (starting August 22, the second notice) he went for a vacation, the whole week. The guys from BZ construction moved his bike around almost every day.

On August 26, after spending one night at the motel near Chinook Winds Casino, where i had a nightmare about people entering the room, found the deadbolt open at the door in the morning and the market crashed, i drove to Coos Bay to visit there a couple of casinos. Next morning i read in the news about a fire at Rum Creek, 58 miles away from Coos Bay but an 158 miles drive that started on August 17. When i got back home i realized the gas cap with lock i bought on Amazon was leaking possibly leaving a trail of gas smell behind so i put back the original.

On August 29 at 2 AM i heard a noise upstairs, after a break of about a week (when i had enough noisy from construction). In the morning i was intrigued by the sight of his motorcycle, in a different position than the night before with what appeared to be a puddle of gas mixed with oil that was already dried so i took a picture of it.

In that evening, around 8 PM someone knocked on my door. I went and looked through the window and saw the man upstairs. He started questioning me as why the bike was moved around and why there is a puddle of oil under.

I told him, that was not oil but gas (i didn't know at the time it was mixed with oil). In the next few days i talked with "the man" a few times, trying to troubleshoot his bike and then trying to convince him to fix his bike so it won't leak anymore. He instead filled the bike with gas again.

On the carbureted motorcycles, there is a shut off valve you are supposed to close when you stop the engine. Otherwise, gas keeps pouring in the engine, passes the rings that are not covering the whole 360 degrees of the piston, and gets into the oil pan. On a bike like the one above there is no PCV valve. The blow-by gasses that pass the rings during normal operation are being evacuated like in older cars, in the air through a breather under the engine. At his bike with a broken shut off valve gasoline floating on top of oil evaporating in the engine and the vapors escape through the breather. When he moved the bike the night before i took he picture in a different position, a certain amount of gas flowed on the asphalt.

As a result my car now also smells like gasoline. What is intriguing is it started to happen right after i put back the original cap and i stopped the leak there.

After buying a new TV i was curious to see how everything look in 4k. It turns the brodacast itself has to be in 4K or UHD and the first thing that came to mind was Expanse, which i binged watch a while ago. But then i started to watch it again as i realized i jumped much of it when when i suddenly realized that the martian arts woman in the movie (Bobbie) looks like the athletic Spanish one at Apt.4. Being suspicious now of all actors, i searched and i found a close match with the Japanese Olympic swimmer Satomi Suzuki. But when i looked closer at the pictures, i realized she was actually also looking like the guy upstairs and then i made this connection. 97 Suzuki Savage, 91 Satomi Suzuki. So the man upstairs is actually a woman. It makes sense because the woman are much less influenced by the protozoa present in sick dogs poo litter as she has to handle (pour it in my head). Previous occupants of the apartment were also mostly women except for the old man who was playing porn so loud you could hear it from the alley.

4:13 Chatting with Hello Mobile

7:52 After spending most day at the computer, felt the need to go for a walk. But when i opened the door they were having a party on the other side of the alley and he/she was working at the car, and glanced at me from the moment i stepped. So i just took the patio door, uninstalling the AC in the process. Went for my walk, AQI was near 100, overcast (yes, dark Oregon autumn showed itself for the first time but at 80 degrees). With hot, smoky stagnating air so i didn't make it very far. When i came back i met with the strange man with Arab like beard, green neon shirt with a belt over, showing a funny, prominent butt in his black yoga pants, talking in the phone, i think it was in Spanish. Cooked something, he/she came upstairs from somewhere (it's dark outside) and started the routine.

8:06 Yes, of course, Bush.