Was an Obama Assassination Thwarted in 2014?

So today Twitter ruled on my appeal regarding my earlier tweet in which I clearly state my belief that whatever occured in New Zealand a few weeks ago was a false flag event, much like described in the good work of Dane Ole Dammegard. I chose to remove the tweet in question and place it here as part of my blog to help paint a more accurate picture of the world in which we live. The world George Orwell described long ago. 

Victor, NY I had left Virginia Beach pursued by approximately 40 unmarked FBI vehicles leaving in late July of 2014 just before midnight. Why? Shari Faller at 3205 Sandfiddler Road, had weeks earlier rented a room to me via craigslist at a considerably below market rate for such a room.  The house just across the street from the Atlantic Ocean.  Shari herself renting from a man in New Jersey named Bruce Parker, the owner, therefore became my landlady, but she was so much more. Because of my 'adventure' with Adam Stanhope of Pembroke MA, upon my return to the US from Russia under a false death threat in October 2013, and his passionate yet futile attempt to get me to join him in his online drug dealing business on the Silk Road, where he vended MDPV, a strong synthetic cathinone, a variety of synthetic cannabinoids, and the everpopular benzo called Xanax under the name NAWLINS, I wanted to keep those involved with drugs out of my life. Why? Not because I am for

Another Day Awaiting my Twitter Appeal.   I had posted my opinion as to the events not long past of a shooting, supposed or real, in New Zealand.   I can't say for I wasn't there.    A thing I learned back during the Russian-Georgian war was about media and it's seemingly effortless ability to tell stories and have you believe them.  I read somewhere how watching TV induces an Alpha state of some sort making one susceptible to suggestion and what not. I had just earned a little over $1,000,000 from the sale of the then vibrant, now dying Saint Petersburg Yellow Pages.  I held options on 7% of that company.  The remaining 93% were held by Tony Czura, Nick Thornton and David Fleming all former executives of the Swiss company SGS.  Tony had been for a time CEO and had bragged to me of making large cash bribes Co rained in suitcases to the ruler of Libya Moammer Khadaffi. Those stories then impressed me.  Now less so.   Maybe I am growing up.  Not

Charlie Tan.  Killed his dad. The police say before my operation and the general anaethstesia that I claimed that my son had stabbed me with a dual pronged knife laid out on the counter at an odd angle. His mother keeps a very clean kitchen. But not on January 24th. The day before I weny to McDonalds twice, once in the morning and again in the evening to escape the arguments between mother and son.  These arguments a contrivance, a show. At the McDonalds I got 2 receipts, 1 for the meal in the morning, the other for the evening meal.  Their numbers 000 and 800. While in hospital I thought it all sort of cosmic as though I was being warned that I might the next day die (000) at 8 a.m. (800). Now having learned that mother and son conspired and knowing that Svetlana is an FSB 'honeypot trap' those numbers were provided to me as a misdirect.  Got me looking the wrong way again. I came back to Russia, to Svetlana to reconcile.  I thought after 3 years apart sh

Doug Boyce. NCIS agent. Lives at 313 Sage Road in the upscale Sandbridge district of Virginia Beach with his formerly Russian wife Elena Global.   Elena is as much of a criminal as is Doug and to promote his career she gave up her Russian passport, her Russian nationality. I met Doug in Russia in 1999.  I didn't know he was CIA.  I didn't know I was a targeted individual.  I didn't know that his two buddies from his time in the military Dan Mead and Paul Leonard were also employed by CIA and that they had all been sent at the same time to Saint Petersburg, Russia to use advanced psy ops techniques, gangstalking  active measures, NLP and more in a complex effort to mold me into a man when dead would be blamed for the assassination of America's first Black president Barack Obama and the installation of Joe Biden a career New Jersey politician as president.  The nation would be thunderstruck as would the world.  Obama and I dead with me taking blame and perha

RUSSIAN FSB TRAINED HONEYPOT TRAP SPARROW EX-WIFE SVETLANA MACY TELLS ME ANOTHER LIE  May 9, 2017.  Victory Day in Russia.  My then ex-wife, still Russian FSB honeypot trap sparrow Svetlana Macy, our 16 year old dual national son Nick and I walked from our home at Kamennoostrovskiy Prospect 35 in the heart of Saint Petersburg to the bank of the Neva river, for the part of Saint Petersburg we lived upon was an island called Petrogradskiy. My son Nicholas James Macy had stabbed my left arm, severing my artery, almost killing me a few months earlier on January 24th, 2017, less than a month after our arrival back to Russia after a 2 year stay for him in the US and a little bit over 3 years for myself. He, my son, I believe was acting out his role in a bit of 'street theater' organized by his mother so as to have a story for the police of a kitchen accident in which father unexpectedly died. Never before, and never since had she put on such a show, flinging dishes thtougho

Ever see a CIA agent living and working in Russia who is also a scumbag? You have now.  Meet my pal Jeff Letino.  He's the type who'd sell his mother for a nickel. I've written about him in other blog posts.   Likely will again. And yes he to the best of my knowledge was heavily involved in 2014's failed assassination attempt on Obama that would have installed Biden (ever wonder why he didn't run?  I don't ) and blame me as patsy. Yes, Jeff Letino.  Scumbag. Take it from me.  I know.  

Albina Putilina We met in a Russian bordello on Petrogradskaya Island not far from my home in early 2012.  Perhaps it was January. In those days I enjoyed hash most every day, one or two hits and frequent visits to a select variety of bordellos. At this one bordello located, as mentioned, not far from where I then and now live on Kamennoostrovskiy Prospekt 35 (site of a mysterious Notre Dame like fire on JFK's birthday on May 29, 2009 - all part of the CIA setup to create a twisted backstory for the lone shooter presidential assassination patsy they were in the process of then molding.  I am pleased to report CIA failed in this horrific terror plot.  Obama survived as did I) on Bolshoy Prospect perhaps it was house 89, this I don't recall well I had met another prostitute, Natasha Mishanova who shared my passion for hashish and was open minded as regarded sex.  I recall her working while pregnant.  Neither of us had a problem with that.  That was then. I asked Nat

I remember an evening in Siberia, the city Kemerovo.  We had a new Finance director, his name Allan.  His predeccesor, Chuck, a tall and very smart Texan whom I liked very much had quit.  He quit claiming that Millicom had not honored his contract.  It struck me strange then though not now.  How could such a smart and apparently well connected guy leave jumping from this good job with nothing to which to jump? I understand now and remain quiet on that matter. Allan, the newby, Svetlana and I went out to a local club.  We all drank.  A lot.  This was summer 1997, now 20 years back.  Allan was and remains a well schooled Scot though with a US passport.  Beautiful Russian girls around at most of the tables.  Sveta and Allan proceeded to get snockered.  I drank less; one girl, her name Olga.  Supposedly dad was a colonel in the local FSB.  How I came to learn that I do not recall.  Her shirt one of those glimmery see through things her bra and young breasts eye catching as the goo

Abby Martin, my hero.

Chuck Jensen,  FBI Gangstalker, Levant, ME So back to police entrapment, etc. I spent some time on the beach just now and am drawn back to memories of a shipmate named Chuck, Chuck Jensen, or as I knew him Petty Officer 3rd Class, Data Systems Technician Jensen. While serving on the USS Underwood FFG-36 went to the Persian Gulf together in 1987. After my fraudulent divorce in the fall of 2012, and false death threat supposedly from Russians Alexander Tregubov and Egish Khachatrian, communicated to me by two beautiful Russian FSB honeypot traps or sparrows, both former prostitutes, Svetlana Macy and Genya Kosheleva, I retreated to America on October 13, 2013. I was met at Boston's Logan airport by my 'pal' Adam Stanhope who apparently was working selling things on Silk Road under the protection of some police, likely FBI. I stayed with Adam at his father William's home at 113 Oldham Road in the old Yankee town of Pembroke, MA for some weeks as we had

My Son Reveals His Betrayal Funny story.  Well not so much.  My son Nick drew this as we were moving to Denver and claimed that someone else drew it.  We lived on a 2 acre hill much in seclusion.  No one but he or I had access, and as we were loading up the container with garbage as we prepared for our April 2016 move to Denver I had noticed the sign had no drawing of 'Rick falling...' until it did.  Nick, my son, then 15 drew this.  Why?  His mother had shown him when he was 13 pornographic images of me having group sex to which she herself as a former prostitute had earlier introduced me to. Earlier at Trader Joe's the place loaded with FBI agents, the big undercover cop at the checkout was all sorts of concerned for Nick while his gay bag boy was all sorts of friendly to me.  Freaked me out at the time.  Now not at all. Life under police surveillance, police entrapment, gang stalking and gas lighting. Rule 1.  When a target of these conditions, document, documen

Evgeniya Victorovna Kosheleva, the prostitute I decided to save from life in a bordello in the fall of 2011, having been poisoned by her supposed boyfriend/pimp Alexander Tregubov in August of that year and losing 35 pounds in a month, and having held my mothers hand as she died in a Massachusetts ICU in the next month, September. On that Christmas night, December 25th, 2011 Alexander supposedly, and in a drunken rage, beat up on petite Evgeniya, pushing my buttons to do all that I could to save her.  I learned 2 years later, this was a fabrication, a lie, a bit of 'street theater' to send me on a downward spiral of divorce, debauchery, with the goal of making me patsy for a presidential assassination plot of the CIA that failed in 2014.  Evgeniya is shown here with her mom Elena Saveleeva, resident of Angren, Uzbekistan. I bought a cellphone and put some spy software on it.  I let Genya have the use of it.  This was in the fall of 2013. Completely legal. When I hear

Meet Katya Erokhina.  1st runner up in the lets defraud Rick into divorce shuffle. Half gypsy, half tartar. All woman.  Not so desperate as Genya Kosheleva, so Genya won. Oh boy. These shots from spring 2012. Katya had a day job at Saint Petersburg's 5th channel, a local TV channel.  It didnt pay well and so she augmented her earnings as a prostitute.   I was working as VP Sales at Jensen Group and found a nearby bordello on Kanal Griboedova number 10.  Katya had the most amazing body for she was in her early 20s back then.  I recall the sheer joy after an hour long session of doing the double backed beast, we had been so full of energy through the process, the bed had moved a full meter from the wall.  Katya was, like I, full of pride at this wondrous accomplishment and called the other prostitutes working that day in that bordello to witness that which we had together accomplished.   And when we would make love, Katya always insisted to be well under the covers.  Seems

Lunch Date in Denver with FBI Gangstalker Darlene Robertson Went on a lunch date with this gal while in Denver.  We met on an online dating site whose name I don't recall.  This was summer of 2016.  Darlene Robertson gave me some clues that let me understand my paradigm was wrong.  It wasn't criminals like little Adam Stanhope and his cronies Mike Chandler and his son Andrew or Drew Chandler, who were the source of my problems in the US from October 2013 to December 2016, it was the FBI.  And they were under control/guidance of CIA. Thanks Darlene.  The lunch was worth every cent. She raised 2 points during our lunch that remain with me still. She asked 'Are you a racist?' She said 'Your son needs therapy.' The first was likely a result of police surveillance in our car as my son and I drove to Tennessee and he played a song entitled 'Ni**er' and we both sang along happily and loudly in what we wrongly considered the privacy of our car.

Lying Eyes and More A few posts from our chat while she was in Tunisia, our son out in the LenOblast staying with the man named 'Vladimir'.  'Vladimir' whom Svetlana revealed to me on May 9th, 2017 just prior to boarding that North African bound plane as a man with whom she had had an unlikely affair in August 2016.  She could not look me in the eye the entire time she told this fib.  My son later told me he met this 'Vladimir' who said Svetlana was lying and they had never slept ttogether.  Lets have some background material now from an earlier fb post:  The idea as horrifying as it is elegant.  One night during my post divorce affair with a young lady named Genya, in mid 2013, she told me in response to what I don't recall, "Your life is like that in a horror movie". I didnt know what she meant.  I liked my life then as I enjoy it now.  I would learn.  I would learn that Genya had been set upon me by bride and her Russian policem