Facebook Asks What's On My Mind?

Facebook asks, "What's on my mind?"

Hmm.

Corrupt police.

As shared in my posts here in facebook it appears I have been a 'targeted individual' for quite some time, years, maybe decades, and perhaps even from birth. 

Let's focus on the time from 2008 to now. 

2008.  Russian spy Anna Chapman comes on to me in Moscow where I ran the small business of Yellow Pages Russia. 

2011.  August, I get poisoned by a Russian man, Alexander Valerievich Tregubov the month before my mother passes away in September as I hold her hand in an intensive care unit.  During that trip from Russia to the US, my younger brothers good friend, Adam Stanhope, introduces me to then legal MDPV, a stimulant that compels one to redose, and to his friend Mark Brady who introduces me to less than legal 'ecstasy' or MDMA.  I have one heck of a weekend playing dress up with Mark and return home to Russia, thinking that was something.  Adam begs me to stay and I decline, get on the plane and get home. 

2013, October, exwife Svetlana and honeypot trap girlfriend Genya Kosheleva both tell me that I am under a death threat from aforementioned Alexander Tregubov.  I flee Russia for the U.S.

I am initially hosted by aforementioned family friend Adam Stanhope, who under the name NAWLINS, attempts to persuade me to join him in his illegal Silk Road online narcotics vending business.  I decline and leave his Pembroke MA home as he shouts at me, "what did you expect, I am a criminal!" 

I move in with my younger brother in Portland ME and in some days meet a New Hampshire gal named Amanda Kelley who also brings narcotics with which for us to celebrate the New Year.  After four days of that we part ways and I thrown the remainder of the treats she brought thinking that was fun but it's not for me. 

2014, a heck of a year, I head north to Levant ME, to visit as house guest of a shipmate from my Navy days, Chuck Jensen and his nurse wife Randee (I had been introduced to Amanda via Chuck as she was a cousin of Randee's).  My car is broken into (the alarm went off but 8 was too scared to go look as it was night and quite dark) and in the morning I found the car sprayed with white material all along the dashboard and steering wheel which I carefully cleaned away and I find in the trunk of the car a very stimulating paste like material that I also dispose of.  I am scared as I expect the break-in to have been caused by criminal friends of Adam Stanhope's. 

While visiting Chuck and Randee I learn Chuck is facebook friends with a Russian woman whom I had met in Saint Petersburg in 1999, Elena Globa.  I thought it weird as why would these two ever know each other.  Weirder still were Chuck and Randee's over defensive responses to my asking how Chuck knew Elena.  I didn't pursue the matter though thought it odd. 

I head south to visit Doug Boyce and his wife Elena Globa Boyce.  They had become acquainted in Saint Petersburg when I knew them and had gotten hitched. 

While at Doug's in Virginia Beach, VA Doug told me the most unusual thing, that he had been a CIA agent in Russia when we knew each other in 1999.  I had neither an active security clearance nor a need to know.  I became suspicious but held it in.  Doug began to regale me with spy stories and of the techniques they used to target people.  I enjoy being their guest and believing in Doug who was then as now a special agent for the NCIS asked his advice on how best to report Adam Stanhope to the DEA or police for his online drug dealing.  Doug tells meto clip words and letters from newspapers and glue them to a blank page, stick that letter in an envelope with no return address and stick in the mailbox.  Again Doug made me suspicious.  Didn't feel right.  I expected we would go see a cop together or to report Adam online.

And while at the Boyce's I see on Lena's computer her facebook friendship with my Navy shipmate of 30 years ago Chuck Jensen.  I ask Lena how it is they made each other's acquaintance.  And she hems and haws and seems all sorts of deceptive in her unconvincing answer. 

I stay with the Boyce's at their home at 313 Sage Road for a month and find a room for rent near by at a way below market rate across the street from the beach at 3205 Sandfiddler Road.  The landlady is a twice bankrupt disabled divorced gal in her 50s named Shari Faller.  I immediately ask if their are any drugs in use or available on the precession, in her house as I want to reconcile with my Russian exwife and get her and son out of Russia so as to rebuild our little family and not to be further distracted by people coming to me with narcotics as had August Meyer and Albina Taptiga in Russia and Adam Stanhope, Mark Brady, and Amanda Kelley in the US.  Shari assured me there were not.  I later learned she lied when I met her other renter Jon Pouliot Jr. who was in the business of augmenting his income selling weed and pills.  Seemed odd, but ok.

In mid June two witnesses tell me that they had seen my wife with Alexander Tregubov in our apartment and being quite affectionate towards him.  On June 20th Svetlana herself admits to me her relationship with Alexander Tregubov, that he was sterile and could not impregnate her and she very much wanted a child, and having gotten one from me by removing her IUD without advising me in 1999, had decided to remain with me only due to the high salary I was on and the commercial benefit that provided her.  It hurt but it answered my questions as why our relationship had been so bad for years, and why had I been inclined as a result to frequent bordellos. 

The next day ten cars began to follow and harass me.  The next day 20.  The day after that 40.  All looking quite ex military.

I will learn only in another year or two that I was being gangstalked.  Being harassed by these cars, I end up with only one safe place for self and car, and that is Doug Boyce's nearby driveway.  I spend the night there as cars drive by at high speeds and people on cellphones walk by in the darkness.  Both unusual events as the Sandbridge area in which the Boyce's reside no one is out and about after ten p.m.

The next morning Doug calls saying he has a funny story.  He tells me that he is a policeman, that I am not being chased and that I have misperceived much in my life. 

In late July, I leave Virginia followed by 40 cars on back rounds to western New York State.  So much traffic on those windy back roads at 2 and 3 am it was clear I was the fox and they were hounds. 

I arrived at my property at 1235 Honeysuckle Pass, Victor, NY to find home damaged and a one square meter garden under my sons swingset.  I issue the tenants an eviction notice and hole up at a small motel called the Royal Inn on Route 96 in Victor, NY. 

And in a few days on the 20th of August police come to my motel room, lie to me saying they were sent by my tenants as I had threatened them.  I later got a copy of the police report which in black and white indicates this was untrue, that a call from my older sister Susan had been made concerned as to my whereabouts.  I held my ground, did not let the police into my room as they had no warrant.  Immediately I thought I had told no one that I was staying in this Royal Inn motel, not my tenants nor my sister.  Also interesting from the police report I later got copy of the police, so carelessly left off my sisters address.  Why was that?  And the report said that I had made strange facebook posts which they didn't find and claimed were removed.  One I made no such facebook claims so they were never there to be removed.  This police tactic seemed similar to the old 'have you stopped beating your wife' question which upon being asked implies a certain amount of guilt. 

By this time I knew something was up.  Couldn't get my head around it.  My paradigms too limited. 

Stay tuned for more.  I know you will.

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