Was an Obama Assassination Thwarted in 2014?

Watching this Clint Eastwood / Meryl Streep movie with my son.  I forgot how good it is. I recall leaving my first wife Christine for the Russian goddess I perceived, Svetlana Borisovna. And unlike that moment in the film when Francesca grabs the truck's door handle, which if turned, would change her life, and she relents, stays with husband Richard and their two teen children, I pulled the handle, opened the door, crossed an ocean, for a girl I knew not, but for in the sense most would describe as physical, landed in Siberia, and convinced her to join me.  That was 1997, over 20 years ago. We have a son, now 19, and all that I perhaps ever wanted in a son. And Svetlana, I knew she didn't love me, not as I loved her.  Men and women are perhaps different in this regard, of that I am not sure, my data set too small to matter.  I recall thinking if she just got to know me she would love me. Perhaps she does as she can; we grew up so differently, me a middle cl

Tom Stansmore, General Manager of EMG, CIA in Russia? Yesterday, February 28, 2020, the Saint Petersburg accounting outsourcing company Emerging Markets Group (EMG) made a facebook post shown below. The EMG Post on Facebook That Motivated Me To Discuss on Facebook, My 'Pal' Tom Stansmore, Likely CIA in Russia My February 28, 2020 Facebook Response Post to an EMG Post My February 28, 2020 Facebook Post on Tom Stansmore,  Likely CIA in Russia Tom Stansmore, General Manager of EMG and Likely CIA in Russia A bit later in the day Facebook informed me that my perhaps all too honest post about my what I consider my well reasoned opinion as to Tom's employment by the CIA was 'against community standards' and while not banning me announced to me that my post would only be visible to myself and no others.  Funny.  I had expected to be banned by Facebook for what would have been my 11th time.  And I cared not a whit.  Right is right, I hope y

Reflections on Corrupt Law Enforcement, Entrapment, and More I recall that night sitting in my 2006 Hyundai Sonata, in the driveway of NCIS agent Doug Boyce at his comfortable home at 313 Sage Road, in the upscale Sandbridge subdivision of Virginia Beach.  It was the only place where the FBI who was gangstalking me would leave me alone. Sound weird? It should. It was. I had been being gangstalked by the FBI, though at that time I this did not know.  A few days earlier, on June 20th, 2014, my the ex-wife, Russian gal, Svetlana Borisovna Macy, had admitted to me on an international phone call that I initiated, that she had never loved me, that her earlier lover, a man, also a Russian, named Alexander Valerievich Tregubov, who had poisoned me in August of 2011, as what is termed in the spy biz, an active measure, part of a psy op, meant to convince me, or better said to con me into taking actions not in my best interest, that he was unable to impregnate her due to an accident

Banned by Facebook for a Tenth Time Three days ago my Russian honeypot trap wife Svetlana Borisovna Macy

Christian Courbois, from Boone NC, CIA in Russia? Christian Courbois and I met in the spring of 1998 just after I had moved self and then girlfriend Svetlana Chuloshnikova to Saint Petersburg Russia.  Sveta and I lived in a corporate flat provided by the majority American owned Russian phone company that had chosen to employ me as their director for sales, marketing, and customer service.  The corporate flat was located at the head of Rubenshtien Street, at house 6, in a large second floor flat.  Today Rubenshtien is home for multiple restaurants, having a city wide reputation for good food and a variety of cousines.  Then in 1998 it was a rather dark place, with a single bar of note, Mollie's located on the same side of the street as our flat but much further down, towards the point where Rubenshtien met other streets, locally termed 'the five corners'.   I don't recall what Sveta and I were doing that evening, as it was over 20 years back.  I do recal

August Meyer, CIA Gangstalker and Billionaire Meet August Meyer.  For some years I incorrectly perceived us as friends.  We were both American ex-pats residing in Russia.  He had owned some apartments in Saint Petersburg for a time, matter of fact, the one that I own with my treacherous FSB trained honey pot gangstalking bride Svetlana, is one of them.  You can call him on his private line +7 921 9307756 and ask any number of questions but should any get close to what was once or relationship, August will lie it will be discernable. August Meyer, Billionaire who Gave Up His  US Citizenship to Save on Taxes  Back in 2011, 2012, 2013, August and I became closer, as he would invite me to his Kanal Griboyedova apartment for intimate evenings.  He provoded excellent red wine and Colombian marching powder, while I was please to share my cannibanoid loaded smokeables.  He was going through the exercise of selling his shares in the Russia  supermarket Lenta.  I was at the time CEO

So my wife, Russian, Svetlana went ballistic tonight, attacking both our 19 year old son and myself, her 55 year old husband. She nearly tore off my left ear as I attempted to restrian her. She threw punches at me repeatedly, few of which landed, as my reach outmeasured hers. She screamed, drunk on vodka, denying her earlier betrayal, with lover Alexander Valerievich Tregubov, leading to our dramatic 2012 divorce. My son for son time advised me that she hated me and was only playing her role as she didn't have to work and i have paid all heru 🙁 😊 bills for the past three years plus since returning to Russia in an attempt to reconcile with her. I thought we had had some good days, likely these were acts, much like when she put on a show of 'street theater' making a huge mess in the kitchen with shattered eggs and plates, leaving double thronged knife in easy grasp of our son, who apparently stabbed me with it as I attempted to break up their fjght most physical.

Summary of My Discovery That I Am Targeted

Holly DuPont Oliver Corrupt Police Gangstalker  Another gangstalker working for corrupt police, Holly DuPont.  I had mistakenly responded to her as I discovered I was targeted by corrupt police.  What drives people to be so dishonest I sometimes wonder.  Like all too willing volunteers in a Milgrom experiment.  So despicable, so sad, no foul.  If karma exists, she will of course will face the piper some day.  I don't wish that on anyone of course, but as I have seen a number of gangstalkers who did me wrong suffer, have cancers, depart via early painful deaths, and so I wonder. Holly Dupont Oliver, Claims to Work for Wikileaks An Email from Me to Holly Before I Knew She Was a Police Gangstalker A Misdirecting Message from Gangstalker Holly Dupont Oliver I recall my horror at discovering Holly's LinkedIn connection with drug dealing FBI informant Jon Pouliot Jr, whom I had met and resided with during the summer of 2014 in Virginia Beach

CIA Spies in Russia and Me Their Target James Beatty and I met in Russia in Saint Petersburg in early 1998.  I was surprised, though pleased when he invited Svetlana and I to his wedding to a former dancer, another lovely Russian gal, named Vika.  I recall at the wedding his inviting me to the bathroom to share a few lines of cocaine that he provided.  I hadn't touched the stuff since my early 20s and had no great fondness for this stimulant, then as now, illegal in Russia.  I didn't think much of this event til years later, when I understood better the nature of psy ops, covert manipulation of a target such as myself by folk like James who I learned were termed gangstalkers.  And James, likely employed in manner similar to self admitted American spy, NCIS agent Doug Boyce, by the CIA.  Oh boy.  Blew my mind for a while, that realization.  Funny to what one might grow accustomed.   As stated above, James is, in my humblest of opinions, likely a CIA gangstalker and w

Another Inexplicable Facebook Friendship Late summer 2014.  I had escaped Virginia Beach and FBI gangstalker Shari Faller and her attempt to entrap me for arson.  I had resided for a time as her tenant renting a room in a beachfront home in the prestigious Sandbridge subdivision of Virginia Beach at 3205 Sandfiddler Road, just a short walk from the home of sel admitted American spy and senior NCIS agent Doug Boyce at 313 Sage Road. The FBI had set up this home to beguile me or any tenant.  A trap of sorts, clouded windows, air conditioning vents that couldn't be closed, old tube based giant TV with such a faded picture, all meant to distract a target like me from what was really going on. I recall meeting Shari Faller having taken the bait from her craigslist ad.  I was so pleased with myself finding a submarket rate for such a room just across from the beach.  Shari was disabled, my age, divorced, on vicodin and adderal, and confirmed to me with some level of passion that