Coffee shop conspiracy guy, my neighbor in Russia, Sergey
Sergey. Russian guy. Don't recall his last name. He lives upstairs from us. We are on the fifth floor. He bought his flat on the 6th floor a few years after I bought ours in 2006.
Sergey is the director of a chain of coffee shops in Saint Petersburg, Russia called Chokoladnitsa. The brand comes from Moscow, and Sergey, at least when I knew him, ran the Saint Petersburg shops. The coffee at those shops is no worse or better than others to my mind. Coffee is all the rage in Russia these days, much like sushi was in the early 2000s.
Sergey and I own flats at Kamennoostrovskiy Prospekt 35 in Saint Petersburg, Russia, site of a mysterious and unsolved roof fire on May 29, 2009, JFK's birthday.
One day Sergey came to our door. This was strange as we were than acquaintances and not friends. I recall the time as I was working for a small local phone company called Comlink Telecom. I had been hired via my training/consulting company into a full time role to restructure the commercial department of this small phone company whose growth had stalled and as a result whose revenue was flat. My role, reporting to the two owners Alexei and another Sergey, was to serve as director of sales, marketing and customer service. The job lasted less than a year but was fun as I had a free hand to change offices, personnel, and procedures.
The year was 2010. Sergey knocked on our door one evening, and seemed to barge his way into our flat. He had with him a thumb drive that he felt he wanted to for reasons unknown to me then, present to me. He asked me to get my laptop so he could show me some of the files digitally saved on this miracle of engineering. I was dumbfounded, but agreed.
As I was working for a fixed line phone company who laid fiber to connect customers, the idea rolled around in the back of my mind to offer to Sergey a private network for his coffee shops via Comlink fiber. The idea while costly had some merit, but not enough to matter. I think we briefly discussed it once in passing and I failed to garner his interest.
The files on the thumb drive were videos expressing conspiracy theory narratives: 9/11, alien abductions, and more. I had no interest in that sort of stuff and thought it odd that Sergey would come to our door, press his way in, and provide such an unexpected and unwanted gift.
He left after 15 minutes. I've never seen him since. I heard today he is trying to sell his flat for an outlandish price of 700,000 rubles a square meter in a market where he'd be lucky to get 200,000. I digress.
Why had Sergey come to our door bearing gifts?
After I learned I was a 'Manchurian Candidate' prgrammed, or attempted to be so by our corrupt CIA and their pals in sister security services, my best guess is that had the plot succeeded in 2014, Obama dead and me with him, the FBI would have come to Russia to investigate who I had been and they would have come across Sergey.
The FBI would have presented to the world as they had done in 1963 a false narrative portraying me as a disturbed individual, lone shooter disaffected type. And Sergey would have passed a polygraph claiming that why yes, he had met me and we had discussed conspiracies. He of course would have left out that he had brought up the matter uninvited.
Weird stuff like this happened to me a few times, and only with the passage of time, and with the knowledge that I was being set up, had been gangstalked for years by CIA and their drones would any of this make sense.
I'll follow this up at some point with a tale about Chuck Jensen, former shipmate of mine (1988-1990, USS Underwood FFG-36), Navy veteran, alcoholic, resident of Levant, Maine, my host for the winter of 2013/2014 as I escaped Silk Road drug dealing Adam Stanhope (NAWLINS, you can Google him and see what he was up to, it's there), just before my visit to corrupt NCIS special agent Douglas Boyce in the spring of 2014, when he oddly and abruptly invited me to look over his shoulder at his cellphone screen to watch a YouTube video about 'Reptilians'.
Sergey is the director of a chain of coffee shops in Saint Petersburg, Russia called Chokoladnitsa. The brand comes from Moscow, and Sergey, at least when I knew him, ran the Saint Petersburg shops. The coffee at those shops is no worse or better than others to my mind. Coffee is all the rage in Russia these days, much like sushi was in the early 2000s.
Sergey and I own flats at Kamennoostrovskiy Prospekt 35 in Saint Petersburg, Russia, site of a mysterious and unsolved roof fire on May 29, 2009, JFK's birthday.
One day Sergey came to our door. This was strange as we were than acquaintances and not friends. I recall the time as I was working for a small local phone company called Comlink Telecom. I had been hired via my training/consulting company into a full time role to restructure the commercial department of this small phone company whose growth had stalled and as a result whose revenue was flat. My role, reporting to the two owners Alexei and another Sergey, was to serve as director of sales, marketing and customer service. The job lasted less than a year but was fun as I had a free hand to change offices, personnel, and procedures.
The year was 2010. Sergey knocked on our door one evening, and seemed to barge his way into our flat. He had with him a thumb drive that he felt he wanted to for reasons unknown to me then, present to me. He asked me to get my laptop so he could show me some of the files digitally saved on this miracle of engineering. I was dumbfounded, but agreed.
As I was working for a fixed line phone company who laid fiber to connect customers, the idea rolled around in the back of my mind to offer to Sergey a private network for his coffee shops via Comlink fiber. The idea while costly had some merit, but not enough to matter. I think we briefly discussed it once in passing and I failed to garner his interest.
The files on the thumb drive were videos expressing conspiracy theory narratives: 9/11, alien abductions, and more. I had no interest in that sort of stuff and thought it odd that Sergey would come to our door, press his way in, and provide such an unexpected and unwanted gift.
He left after 15 minutes. I've never seen him since. I heard today he is trying to sell his flat for an outlandish price of 700,000 rubles a square meter in a market where he'd be lucky to get 200,000. I digress.
Why had Sergey come to our door bearing gifts?
After I learned I was a 'Manchurian Candidate' prgrammed, or attempted to be so by our corrupt CIA and their pals in sister security services, my best guess is that had the plot succeeded in 2014, Obama dead and me with him, the FBI would have come to Russia to investigate who I had been and they would have come across Sergey.
The FBI would have presented to the world as they had done in 1963 a false narrative portraying me as a disturbed individual, lone shooter disaffected type. And Sergey would have passed a polygraph claiming that why yes, he had met me and we had discussed conspiracies. He of course would have left out that he had brought up the matter uninvited.
Weird stuff like this happened to me a few times, and only with the passage of time, and with the knowledge that I was being set up, had been gangstalked for years by CIA and their drones would any of this make sense.
I'll follow this up at some point with a tale about Chuck Jensen, former shipmate of mine (1988-1990, USS Underwood FFG-36), Navy veteran, alcoholic, resident of Levant, Maine, my host for the winter of 2013/2014 as I escaped Silk Road drug dealing Adam Stanhope (NAWLINS, you can Google him and see what he was up to, it's there), just before my visit to corrupt NCIS special agent Douglas Boyce in the spring of 2014, when he oddly and abruptly invited me to look over his shoulder at his cellphone screen to watch a YouTube video about 'Reptilians'.
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