Adam Stanhope, FBI Stoolie?

Adam Stanhope, NAWLINS on Silk Road Dark Web 

Adam Stanhope was a few years younger than me, raised in Pembroke, MA, and has become in his teenage years a dear friend of my younger brother John Macy.  They had met in a computer class in the early 80s.  While my brother John and I are what could be called smart, Adam was ahead of the curve, really bright, possessed of good natured self confidence.  His largest drawback, perhaps he had two, he was exceedingly overweight, and had a hormonal condition that precluded his typical development as a man, some lacking in the proper level of testoterone.  One advantage of this was he rarely needed to shave.

I didn't know Adam well in the 80s, as I left home for good and joined the US Navy as an electronics technician in April  of 1984.  Still when I came home to Kingston, MA on leave from time to time I would often run into Adam and the 'gang' that my younger brother hung out with.  They were the sort that played Dungeons and Dragons, while I was onto the more adult fair of DC and Marvel comics.

In any case Adam bought a house in Kingston, MA kitty corner across the street from our house, the one in which my brother, sisters and I grew up in along the Jones river.  Our house was larger, though Adam's had that New England charm as well.

Adam had briefly attended Berkeley, though from there not graduated.  He told me tales of being on meth, how it wasn't such a bad drug and how one could stay up for four days on such a product.  I went in the Navy where such things were forbidden so had no experience and less opinion on the matter.

Adam was interesting.  His father William had paid for Adam to take a trip to Thailand either just before or during college, I am not sure which.  On that trip he met a Thai girl, Wichan, fell in love, married her and brought her back to the states.

They had a daughter, a bright girl, Taki.  I recall her being very small and loved by all.  Adam and Wichan often threw parties at their home with tiki torches, good food and many friends.  Adam was likeable, popular.  He was also a minor drug dealer.

While in Thailand he got a big fuck all tattoo that covered his back.  This is thought odd, but as I got to know Adam in the late 2000s, I thought it part of his unique charm.

Adam had worked in Boston at Reuters as a Director of this or that, I don't recall.  What I do recall is that was a serious position for a man so young.  Adam was talented, thought out of the box and had a bit of an entrepreneurial spirit.  He had developed some sort of technology for the fledgling Internet which he sold to AT&T for a contract that would pay him $70,000 a year for 20 years.  Not bad for a young man from Pembroke, MA.  Certainly better than I was doing in the Navy at the time.

Later with a small group of investors Adam had the foresight to buy the www.bangkok.com website domain.  He later sold it for approximately $300,000.  He kept the money offshore, invisible to the IRS, paid no tax and bought a decent home in Thailand in his wife Wichan's name as foreigners are largely precluded from owing property in Thailand by law.  Chaiphoom or Chaiaphum, Thailand is where the home is located.

In the late 2000s I was in the Boston area staying with my mother in her Rockland, MA home on a trip for a new Russian visa.  I don't recall the month.  My brother John showed up at her home which caused me joy for I had liked John, though as brothers do we had our differences growing up.

John invited me to join him on a trip to Manomet MA, to visit High School colleague John Baker.  John had been a year behind me and year ahead of my brother John at Sacred Heart High school.  There was to be a small party that evening and attendees would include Phil Nichols, Adam Stanhop, and Mike Gaffey,  all friends of my brother John's.  I knew them but was not close for I had left Massachusetts at the tender age of 19 in 1984.

I was happy to be invited for it wasn't often that I saw my brother John.  Beer and weed was available so I took advantage of both, more weed and less beer.  Conversation about this and that began to flow.  I had stories of Russia so I felt special and seemed to be accepted by this group as they knew my brother well and knew me from high school days.

In retrospect John took me to this party likely under police or FBI guidance to ensure I would meet Adam in such circumstance.  My brother John and I have not interacted now for five years.  His last email, a reply to my inquiry as to the cause of all my problems of that time was a single word email all capital letters.  POLICE.

I'd like to reconnect with John and send him an email from time to time.  No response.  Must have been odd at best difficult more likely for my brother John to have lied, gangstalked me his older brother.  I wonder how he feels about this and would dearly like to know.

Adam was the last to arrive.  Shirt untucked so as to hide his cumbersome belly, offering ecstasy pills, weed and opium for smoking.  I passed on the pills, and opium and enjoyed the weed and took to liking Adam for his entrepreneurship, friendliness and that we had one thing in common, foreign wives.

Adam and I appeared to form a friendship over the next few years the few times I'd be stateside, otherwise we'd chat on Facebook messenger.

It was like having a good friend in your pocket on then new Facebook messenger.  I enjoyed showing Adam pictures of Russia and hearing his tales of Thailand.

In those days I was unfaithful to my wife and often used the services of local bordello in Russia.  I didn't hide this from Adam and was quite open.  It seemed fair in that he was quite open as to his life and drug use.

Adam had suffered a pulled muscle either in his back or stomach, I don't recall which.  As a result he became something of an opiod addict.  I knew little about options in those days.  My leading drugs were hash and scotch.

In 2011 at the time of my mother's passing, Adam came by her Rockland MA home where I was staying and invited me to spend the afternoon with him.  It was a bright September day, and I frankly could use the distraction for my mother and I were close.

He drove us in his newly purchased Audi.  He was pleased to have found it on Craigslist.  I liked the blue/purple interior lights.  Thought it cool.  We drove to his Wapping Rd, Kingston home.  The home I grew up in across the street at an angle clearly visible but with new owners as my mother had sold it in the 1990s.

We sat comfortably in Adam's yard and I learned his home was in foreclosure.  The bank was in the process of taking it back.  His health troubles had kept him from work and the $70,000 from AT&T apparently run out.

He had moved self and family back into his father William's much larger home in Pembroke.  The weather in Kingston was glorious that day and we talked about this and that and he offered me some weed which I accepted an he smoked some other plant matter with a chemical smell in a broken glass test tube.  I had no idea what it was.

Curiosity reared it's head and I asked Adam what was it that he was smoking.  He replied he didn't like weed as it made him paranoid, and after all the opiates he had consumed to deal with his pain this was the only drug that got him high.  It's name?  MDPV.  I had never heard of it.

Adam explained it was legal though in a year or two was due to be scheduled by the DEA.  After a while curiosity got the better of me and I asked to try some.  He advised a small hit and I agreed.  I took a puff and it was quite unlike weed.  He explained it was a synthetic cathinone, whatever that was.  A stimulant that had an extremely long duration and so taking small hits one could maintain a buzz all day.

I noticed a tingling in my balls, pleasant, not overpowering.  My mind felt faster and seemed to move more parallel than serial.  Thoughts related to each other tangentially popped into my mind and it all seemed quite interesting.

We conversed further.  He mentioned he had a new business partner, Mark Brady, and offered that we might go see him.  I agreed.  We drove to Pembroke.  Mark was a very bright guy but self taught, lacking a formal education.  He knew chemistry.  We met in a small building zoned for business full of mad scientist glassware reportedly for developing tinctures from rare plants, and these then for sale.

Mark also apparently enjoyed MDPV and we all had another hit together.  While Adam hadn't clearly described it as a stimulant, it was certainly that.  What fun.  What a day.

I've since read on MDPV and have learned as to its downside which is plentiful.  Keeps one up for days, chemically related to meth, highly addictive, especially the freebase version.  Unknown to me that was what we had been smoking.  Oh dear.

But I remember thinking, it was taking risks that had by then made me a millionaire and a successful business executive, first joining the Navy, thereafter getting into corporate sales, and in 1996 taking the biggest risk of all and moving self to Russia to chase a pretty girl who later became my wife, though unbeknownst to me she was also a Russian FSB honeypot trap and damn proud of it.

So why not smoke a little MDPV and listen to Adam and Mark describe the business they were building?  Mark was on the lam from his home state of Wisconsin for a traffic violation which did not inspire confidence, and unlike Adam and myself middle class boys, Mark had a harder, economically more challenging get life growing up somewhat poor in the town of Iron River.

We spoke about business opportunities and I wanted to hear more.  Adam took me back to my mother's home and returned home himself leaving me a bit of weed dipped in freebase MDPV.

In a while I hopped in my mother's car to see Mark again as his business was not far away.  He invited me to his home.  We chatted about his upbringing and my life in Russia.  I again admired his knowledge of chemistry and bragged about how many girls in bordellos I was sleeping with.

Adam had told me Mark had a transvestite lover who recently departed the scene being driven nuts by too much MDPV.

Mark said you really needed to be careful about how much to ingest.  Adam told me disparingingly that Mark liked to get high and dress in woman's clothing.  I was amused, but having a gay sister felt myself open minded.

Mark asked had I tried MDMA, ecstasy.  I replied no I hadn't.  He asked would I like to try and I agreed.  My God that is a strong drug.  Once it sets in, it rolls, waves of pleasure, it's an empathagen and makes one very communicative.  I think looking back part of the reason I readily agreed is I was under the influence of MDPV, which as a stimulant makes one quite agreeable to matters under normal conditions one might refuse.

It was then Mark offered that we both dress in women's clothes.  I didn't think to ask how he had my size, especially in the hot pink heels, for such is the mind under MDPV and MDMA.  Later I learned it was part of FBI set up to turn me into a gay sex freak.

Mark and I watched porn and had sex.  This unexpected, but honestly fun.  Drugs do that.

One part of the evening was off putting.  Mark replaced the porn we had watched on his computer, and in those days I had liked my porn, less so these days.  Seems a bit of a time waster.  He replaced it with images of little girls dressed as adults with lipstick.  Not kiddie porn, but in that direction.  He mentioned unasked that these photos were produced in Ukraine.  I wasn't extremely interested.  This in hindsight a psy ops push by FBI to get me into the world of child porn so that they might have more leverage over me.  Sick agency, FBI.  And so very corrupt.

Finally morning came and we changed clothes and bid each other farewell.  Time to get so easy sleep and some HTP-5 to counteract the nefarious effects of the MDMA according to Mark.

I saw Adam the next day, made no mention of the drug related homosexual sex we had indulged in asked I didn't think it his business, nor would he be greatly interested.

That night I returned to Mark's for round two, the MDMA had been that good.  And the shoes fit.  It was fun.  Another late night.

The next day was my flight from Boston Logans back to Saint Petersburg, Russia.  A direct flight, for that I was grateful.  Had never liked Frankfurt.

As I packed my things Adam called my mother's phone.  I picked up.  In an impassioned voice he told me that Mark had done some MDMA over the weekend a day as as a result in the hospital.  Adam pleaded with me to stay.  Fun was fun, and I while I liked Adam, I was also father and husband and didn't want to indulge further in narcotics as that would likely happen should I remain and I politely refused.  Adam insisted.  It seemed real important to him.  I would only understand those reasons later.

My sister Lisa picked me up also do took me in her brilliant light colored RAV 4 to the airport and I returned to Russia.

Adam and I kept in communication via Facebook messenger.  Mark and I exchanged the odd email.  I before leaving had lent Adam the sum of $2500 to start a while business.  I had noticed that power drinks, energy drinks like 5-hour energy were quite popular and unseen in Russia.  Adam described that he had a Thai friend from Berkeley and he could therefore source raw products and we might start something akin to an energy drink business.  I had joked, wouldn't an MDPV energy drink or candy bar be just the thing, though knowing the material would be illegal in a year or two.

So Adam and I kept in touch.  I shared it has him intimate details of my project to save and girl from a bordello, Genya Kosheleva.  He recommended against it, but I was committed.  Sex can do that.  In time I learned that she like my wife was a FSB honeypot trap, she knew my wife, conspired to get me divorced, and later presented to me jointly in October 2013  though at different times and locations that I was under a death threat from Genya's supposed Russian boyfriend and pimp, Alexander Tregubov.  The death threat a fraud, and Alexander actually my wife's lover, not Genya's.

How do you like those beans?  It took me 8 months to learn that those three had together conspired along with Egish Khachatrian, Alexander's pal and supposed human trafficker, the man who in  the summer of 2014 told me in a rather loud voice over a long distance call, for then I was in Virginia, "Rick we will turn you into this generation's Lee Harvey Oswald.  We will get you and Obama too!"

I had never liked Egish truth be told.

I had liked Adam, I liked that he marched to the beat of his own drummer, and that he had weed was OK by me.  These were the days before weed became legal in Massachusetts as it is today.

So October 2013.  Divorced in fall 2012 most duplicitously, having lived on 3 separate occasions with a Russian girl, Genya Kosheleva, from Uzbekistan less than half my age as I was committed to rescuing her from bordello life and ensuring that her son had the advantages in life that she hadn't.  I was also smoking hashish every day to stay cool, as the vibes from Genya were dishonest and weird.

With the death of my mother, Catherine Macy at the the age of 79 due to complications from COPD in September of 2011 and my poisoning by Alexander Tregubov the month earlier causing me a precipitous weight loss of 35 pounds in a month, death was on my mind as was finding grace.

I took the decision to focus my efforts not on business, earlier I had been CEO of the Yellow Pages of Russia, and before that the Chairman of the Executive Committee of the Saint Petersburg chapter of the American Chambers of Commerce.   Instead of taking the sane choice of buying a Z4, I decided in the manner of Humbert Humbert to change the trajectory of the life of this then 21 year old girl, a young mother with whom I very much enjoyed sleeping.

Interestingly I met Vladimir Nabokov's son at an event at the Grand Hotel Europe of Saint Petersburg, arguably the premiere hotel in town.  His name was Dmitry and he was reading passages from his father's works.  We enjoyed a beer and light conversation about Russian criminals and fraudsters after the session.  I was honored.  I had no idea our meeting was set up by CIA as a psy op to nudge me, to set in my head a false foundation when in short order I'd be targeted and gangstalked so that I would suspect criminals and Russians and not their CIA masters.  The CIA made great effort to bedazzle and confuse me so that should their 2014 plot to kill Obama, install Biden, and blame me fail I would have a really hard time figuring it out.  And I did.  It took years.  Bastards.

Read 'CIA as Organized Crime' by Douglas Valentine should you desire to into know how our CIA is organized and works.  It ain't nothing like the movies, let me tell you, for I found out.

October 2013.  I left, retreated from Russia under a fraudulent death threat set up by ex-wife and her lover.  I notice on my flight to Moscow and from there to Boston, odd people in my seat, making this excuse and at why they were in not their proper seat.  I didn't see it and the time, but these were low level spies keeping 'eyes on' me and to I left Russia.  James Bond shit.

And who picked me up at Boston Logansport, none other than Adam Stanhope in his oil leaking Audio.

I was grateful and happy to see Adam.  He had invited me to stay for some weeks at his father's house in Pembroke, MA where we could discuss future business opportunities, and even could tell me how he added invested the $2500 I had loaned him in the fall of 2011.

Upon reaching his home at 113 Oldham Road, much to my surprise I learned that in order to make ends meet, Adam had become a full fledged Dark Web Silk Road vendor selling arcane narcotics, synthetic cathinones, synthetic cannibinoids, and xanax.  He was proud to be the that time the Silk Road's leading vendor of now illegal MDPV.

I was surprised though honestly interested to learn how it all worked.  He had two assistants, Michael Chandler, of Kingston, MA, my age, and while we weren't close had spent junior year of high school in the same public school, Silver Lake Regional High School.  I had been kicked out of every local private Catholic School the tear before, so spent one year in public school, before agreeing with the nuns to be good, and they let me back senior year.

Mike's son from Worcester, Andrew, or Drew as I knew him was also working with Adam on his Silk Road project under they he vendor name of NAWLINS.  Adam explained this would misdirect the cops towards Louisiana.  I wasn't so sure.

Here's where he story gets odd and suggests corrupt FBI and corrupt CIA involvement.

Recall Adam beseeching me to remain in Massachusetts in September of 2011 due to Mark Brady having a supposed hospital stay.  I had declined but recall the urgency in Adam's voice.

As soon as I became Adam's house guest he showed me the location of all his drugs to be shipped,  located in his father's garage under a stairwell.  He gave me the password for his NAWLINS Silk Road account.  I thought how odd.  Now I know it was a setup.

Claiming he had very little money, he suddenly had a $2500 round trip ticket to Thailand for a month, telling me that everything was fine now that I had arrived.  No explanation for where the money had come from was offered.

Further Adam took my US passport and began to smash it on the counter repeatedly so as to damage the chip inside.

Adam showed me a big back of blue ecstasy pills with great pride and informed me a few days later that assistant Drew had willfully stolen these pills.

In the summer of 2014, I would see this same exact bag of blue ecstasy pills in the possession of 3205 Sandfiddler Road, Virginia Beach, VA roommate John Pouliot Jr. And like Adam, a drug dealer, though John in those days with a day job at Geico selling insurance.  I had liked John.  I had liked Adam.  These days I keep more to myself.

This blue ecstasy pill bag showing up here and there, along with other oddities helped me understand I was then, unknown to self, under surveillance, being gangstalked by FBI, with intent to entrap me so as to make me a willing patsy in a CIA planned presidential assassination attempt that was to happen between 2012 and 2014, killing Obama, installing Biden and blaming me.

Shortly thereafter, Drew, supposed thief of the aforementioned blue ecstasy pills, got himself a full body tattoo costing $1500 for which he had no money and before me demanded that Adam pay for this body art.

I was perplexed for two reasons.

1. I was unaware Drew and Adam were putting up a false argument, providing 'street theater' to keep me confused as to what was really going on, and

2. Drew's tattoo resembled almost exactly Genya Kosheleva who had the month before broke my heart as I left Russia under false death threat.

Adam received in that time from China a big bag of MDPV.  He intended to sell it on Silk Road by the gram, though made sure my pipe was full of the semen smelling yellowish material sprayed on cigarettes and weed.  I recall after my first hit, this my first in two years, that my head seemed to feel it had pivoted 90 degrees, my thoughts so parallel and not serial I recall thinking this is how a woman thinks.  And with this larger hit, the inherent sexuality of the drug came to the forefront.  I maintained control.

After we indulged in MDPV and were quite shockingly high Adam introduced me to a visitor to his father's house.  Adam claimed the man was a local client who bought pot from Adam on occasion. I didn't think critically for I in those days trusted Adam and was high as balls.  The man was likely 60, short, thin with a military crew cut.  We didn't speak much but he seemed so very oddly happy to see me.  My best guess these days is that was Adam's FBI conect  who had been tasked to ensure I consume drugs, become a mess, break laws or otherwise get in trouble so as to be positioned to be in the words of Egish Khachatrian "this generation's Lee Harvey Oswald".

Weird.  Truly.  Until you've been Gangstalked by CIA and FBI you don't know the meaning of the term weird.

I asked Adam what were his plans for that day when the police would catch him for his dark web dealings as NAWLINS.  Adam didn't miss a beat, said he'd fake his death and move to Thailand to live in the house he had bought in his wife Wichan'so name with the proceeds from the sale of the www.bangkok.com domain.  I asked no further questions thinking his answer a bit ridiculous.

Finally after a stay of some weeks, Adam and I fell out over the money he had borrowed, neglected to pay back, and seemed disinterested in the topic.

As I left, my sister Lisa rescuing me for it had to that time no car, Adam shouted at me as I left, "Rick what did you think was going happen?  I am a criminal!"

And so after a winter of adventures at my brother John's in Portland Maine, a drug fueled New Years Eve 2014 with New Hampshire heroin addict and honeypot trap Amanda Kelley, now residing in New York State (we chatted not long ago on LinkedIn and I accused her of being a gangstalker.  Her reply?  A rose by any other name smells just as sweet.) and the first few months of 2014 in the snow bound outskirts of Bangor, Maine as houseguest of former Navy colleague, alcoholic, out of work, stay at home dad, Chuck Jensen and his ICU nurse wife Randee, also a functioning alcoholic.

I then visited corrupt NCIS agent Douglas Boyce in Virginia Beach where he told me that he had been CIA when we met in Russia in 1999.  In the late summer for 2014, pursued by 40 FBI undercover gangstalking vehicles I departed Virginia having learned much there and arrived in Victor NY where I once owned a home.

There in that fall I reported Adam Stanhope to DEA as NAWLINS MDPV seller on Silk Road via their online tip service.   In a week Adam was reported to have died in his sleep in his father's Pembroke, MA home.  He was reportedly cremated.

And yet the look at his facebook page at that time it appeared he was in Thailand and had not returned to the US.

I believe Adam alive in Thailand and that corrupt FBI and CIA agents facilitated the faking of his death, and provided a new Thai ID for Adam.

I spoke with a friend of his residing in Thailand, Kevin Patch not long ago.  Kevin had been towards me unpleasant and aggressive, claiming that my reporting Adam to DEA caused his death.  In effect, according to Kevin, I had killed Adam.   I kept my mouth shut and listened.  When I reported Adam to DEA I told not a soul, so Kevin was a bit off base.

Kevin had shared an opiate addiction with Adam and apparently they were close friends.  Kevin runs some a site in Thailand called www.khaosanroad.com.  Part of my thinks Adam does some of the writing on the site using his father's name Bill Stanhope.  Maybe I am wrong.  Maybe not.

I can tell you this.  Rightly or wrongly, I had liked Adam Stanhope and I miss him regardless of his treachery.

Final note, one night while high he made me watch a music video from South Africa, Cookie Thumper.

https://youtu.be/K8nrF5aXPlQ

You might enjoy it.  Adam did.  And his showing it to me was a bit of a psy op.  Sex and drugs baby, Sex and drugs.