August Meyer, Billionaire

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 of the Yellow Pages of Russia and later of a small boutiques sales training company.

In one of our last meetings, before I was hounded to leave Russia under a fraudulent death threat orgainzed by then ex-wife Svetlana Macy, her Russian lover Alexander Tregubov, his pal, Armenian Egish Kharchatrian, and their little whore, for who I fell hard after the death of my mother in September of 2011, and my poisoning at the hands of aforementioned Tregubov tbe montb earlier, Evgniya Kosheleva, of Angren Uzbekistan, August, intoxicated, as I certainly was, murmered, $3,000,000 for 30 seconds of pleasure?  While reclining seductively on one of his couches.  I took that as my invite to bail, to leave, as  while my sexual proclivities at that time were likley many, women, men, orgies with both, I had no interest in committing an action he or for that matter, I might later regret.  I headed for the door and bade August farewell.  It was a Friday night and I knew my way home.

Later, when ex-wife Svetlana threatened extortion....  give me the other half of the Russian apartment I did not receive in our 2012 divorce, or I will show your ex-pat friends, naked pictures of you with men and women, these times, introduced to me by Svetlana who had sepnt a fair amount of her 20th and 21st years whoring, serving 75.  This after she haded to me a disc claiming these were the last copies of those photos she had lured me into whcih for performing.  Whores will do that, as I learned.

Back to August's murmering. I wondered had he wanted sex with me and was be offering $3,000,000. Or was it something else?  In time I realozed his comment was due to CIA spying on my ditherings at a variety of Saint Petersburg, Russia bordellos.  His meaning, as I was worth nearly $3,000,000 at the time, that I was on track to lose it all, due to my life under surveillance, then unknown, and my marriage to an FSB trained honey pot gangstalker named Svetlana.  Wow.

And this was all part of a horrific, corrupt CIA plan to make me into a patsy for a US presidential assassination attempt that failed in 2014, as I step by step figured it out.  Damndest thing really.

August today owns a significant shareholding in Russian commercial comapny Ulmart, having sold his shares in Lenta to Texas Pacofic Group (TPG) for North of a billion dollars.  August knew of the plot to turn me into a patsy, and that plot'evil intent to murder Obama, install Biden, while blaming me, a la Lee Harvey Oswald.  I had liked August, his brunette, dark skinned bride Inna.  All until I understood I was targeted and they were CIA gangstalkers and worse.

And still I fo dly recall what I misperceived as his friendship, our intimacy, snorting those thin white lines, tsking hits of Morroco's finest, and drinking red wine together on those midnights each Friday.  August told me I would have made an excellent lawyer, and he having been a prosecutor in San Diego for a time, gave that compliment meaning, at least for this New England boy.

During the first Obama election, that one over McCain, August and two other likely American CIA agents in Russia, Christian Courbois and Steve Caron, would invite me out for beers, at a local bar run by two other American Jeff Yound and Doug something or other, would debate the upcoming election fervently, and in retrospect, somewhat falsely, with Courbois and Caron pro-Obama and August on the Republican side.  They'd include me in email debates on the matter, and me not being political, even less now, was bemused by this somwhat artificial passion play.

I understand now they were building a horrific backstory in case the overall CIA written and managed plot had succeeded, had I become a patsy for a US Presidential assassination attempt sometime from 2011 to 2014, these emails there for FBI investigators to delve, and from ther to mindf*** a new generation, just as they had done in 1963 and again in 2001.  F***ers.

Oh August, I hardly knew thee.