Thanks to CIA 'Friends' I'll Likely Die Alone. And that's alright be me.
I’ll likely die alone.
Not like Myron May, but alone just the same. My two time Russian bride an FSB honeypot trap, raised poor though beautiful in the closed Soviet city of Gorkiy. Now open and called Nizhniy Novgorod.
Svetlana had a lover, Alexander Valerievich Tregubov. This Alexander poisoned me in August 2011, via a spiked beer. I lost 35 pounds in a month. Thought I was dying.
The next month my 79 year old mother died in an ICU with me holding her hand for those long 4 hours. The damage was done. I was a mess, depressed, my life changed in ways described in other blogs contained here.
Svetlana told me two things about Alexander, he was too controlling which she didn't like, and he graduated top of his class at an FSB PsyOps institute. She told me this with pride as he was selected to attend one of the four such institutions in Moscow and not the lone one in Nizhniy Novgorod. She was of this proud.
Together, with a man named Egish Khachatrian and a whore named Evgeniya Viktorovna Kosheleva, they conned me into believing first I was saving Svetlana in 1996 or so, saving Evgeniya in 2011/2012, and that I was under a death threat as a result in October 2013.
This voiced to me second hand by both Svetlana and Evgeniya so as to provide a cutout and a level of deniability. Another man, a friend of theirs voiced to me the same, his name Umar, last name forgotten, this I have on tape.
A few months back Svetlana lied as is her forte, telling me I left Russia in October 2013 for no reason and of my own accord.
We were about to take vacation at my expense in Thailand. I took a stand and told her I was not going to Thailand and she could go on her own as a result of her audacious lie.
She relented, admitted that she lied and promised to tell me the whole story once in Thailand. And there as was and as remains her habit, she said nothing. Better to lie to me than the FSB.
I’ve learned a lot since then, more than expected, certainly more than desired. I from birth am what they call in the parlance a Manchurian Candidate, a patsy for a presidential assassination planned by CIA to occur between 2012 and 2014. They failed or changed their minds.
Don’t know which.
Had it gone down, Obama dead, Biden installed (why do you think that corrupt old politician didn’t run? He didn’t think he’d have to) and me dead as patsy, my story buried in a grave with me.
Poor Lee Harvey Oswald. Don’t think he figured it out til close to the end.
That gut shot an exclamation point on his final chapter. I had the advantage of the internet, and that my wife kidnapped my son, that a man named Doug Boyce, currently an NCIS agent admitting to me, unasked in 2014, he had been CIA in Russia when we met in 1999.
This was confirmed to me by Scotsman Adrian Terris in Russia in early 2017, him likely MI6 and quite proud of it.
Nasty stuff had happened and continued. Canadian CSIS spy residing in Russia Kyle Patching attempted to play his card, darker than most, using psy ops tricks and messages to put the idea of suicide in my head.
Kyle had been introduced to me by another MI6 agent, named Patrick Naughter, now running a Hilton in Moscow.
Patrick is of note for his beautiful long eyelashes. He is dishonest as the day is long. Patrick admitted to me to sleeping regularly sleeping with a Russian whore named Tatiana Kim, a gal of Korean descent. Did he sleep with her as described (wonder what his wife Irina Naughter, a Russian gal would make of this either way) or was it a story, I am unlikely to know.
I slept with her, many times, for I thought it cool. The last time Christmas night 2011. She was drunk and I had at her condomless doggie style, for such was my mentality in those days. These days I am monklike sworn off sex to fill that chink in my armor.
The next day, December 26, 2011, I was called multiple times and fed a story that Evgeniya Kosheleva had been beaten by her pimp/lover Alexander Tregubov, this a fabrication, but it would take me three years to figure that out.
She and I chatted in 2019 briefly online wherein she claimed it was ‘fun’. I had fallen hard for her, harder than for my wife and also whore Svetlana Borisovna Chuloshnikova.
Why?
Genya was smaller, younger, far more petite, had a 5 year old son, worked in Russia as a whore under terms risky, work permit, visa, and airfare required.
And me?
Perhaps I saw Man of La Mancha and My Fair Lady too often. I was to be Batman, the hero, her saviour having failed Svetlana, who simply wanted to be by me impregnated.
You see, Tregubov was sterile. He told me in our initial meeting, he had served in Chechnya, and a bomb severed parts important.
True or not, I’ll never know. Though this admission so freely and excitedly given consistent with what Svetlana told me on June 20, 2014, that she never loved me, Tregubov could not impregnate her, she desperately wanted a child, wanted to rear him with the money I could provide, unlike her youth of Soviet poverty, and that she and Tregubov monitored my cell phones, internet access, emails, and whereabouts from 1997 when I lived in Siberia opening a mobile phone company now known as TELE2.
Those two lacked resources on their own to monitor me, and in conjunction with Doug Boyce, of CIA fame admitting to me in July 2014 that I was under monitoring, close supervision, it all came together. These words are read by some monkey at CIA as I type them, then as now.
These spies have a plan as articulated by Dane Ole Dammegard, to take our guns, and feed us as we do today bovines and sheep to a factory for the benefit of between 400 and 5000 wealthy families if one is to believe Ole’s paradigm as I do.
I’ve never met Ole, but suspect I’d like him if he could get over the discomfort of meeting me. I like Denmark, it used to be my sales territory while I worked at defense contractor Harris Corp.
I worked for a f***, excuse me, guy, named Dana Mehnert. Wonderful mind, perfect memory, and Bozo the clown like hair and voice. Lots to overcome. And he did.
He worked his way from sales manager to division president over a 30 year career. In fact good old Dana earned $3.2 million last year. This in large part due to the lie that is 9/11. I respect Dana, I don’t admire him or his ilk.
In 1995, while pursuing a large contract with the Danish special forces, the Jaegerkorpset, Dana and I sat once on the Nyhavn in Copenhagen, Denmark.
Dana had surprisingly invited me on a Saturday to join him for a pint. I was the new guy, hired to replace him and was thrilled. And as we sat on that Scandinavian wharf, a woman came up to me, as gorgeous as the day is long with a pervy old photographer. She stripped down, made herself nude, bush about a meter and a half from my face. Perfect tits of course.
And the old pervy guy took shot after shot. I thought wow this must be normal in Northern Europe.
It was not, simply part of a long term play of CIA of which Dana was aware, he and his endless promotions, and my retiring at 47, realizing I was targeted by CIA, and stateside FBI. Dana is now president of the Communication division of a much enlarged Harris Corp.
Dana, in my humble view, a wealthy scumbag, much like so many CIA enabled individuals, with whom I have had the misfortune of becoming acquainted. Stephen Gardner, David Eggers, Jeff Jones, Aaron Bogott, Steve Wayne, August Meyer, James Beatty, Paul Leonard, Dan Mead, Paul Smith, James Connel, Jr., Kelly Rivers, Tom Stansmore, Bradley Cook, Steve Caron, Tanya Dick, Karan Young, Sir John Dick (living as a baron of sorts on the isle of Jersey) John Varoli, and more.
Doug Valentine wrote an excellent book entitled, ‘CIA as Organized Crime’. Helped me immeasurably overcome the mind control programming we all receive via TV and movies.
Others, foreign spies, played their part as well. They put me at a disadvantage as I believieved CIA only worked with Americans. In this I was wrong. Germans David and Susanna Meerkatz, now divorced, Norwegian Henning Pedersen, New Zealanders David Fleming, Tony Czura, and Nicholas Thornton, Swedes Filip Engelbert and Jonas Nordlander. The world complex and spy agencies working together to gather riches, and subjugate the rest of us sheep.
They even got to my family, siblings Susan Macy in Salisbury, NH, brother John Macy in Portland Maine, half sister, Beth Heather Macy, Newbury, Ma. Beth wrote a book, so sympathetic and full of lies called ‘Many Worlds, Many Lies’, wherein she cries for family and yet discards me her half brother.
Sister Beth even gained a qualification as a therapist, this done to help solidify the CIA paradigm of me as nut job, lone shooter. They had all their bases covered, but one. Me. The wild card in this game so dark.
Few will read this blog. Fewer still will realize the truth, that CIA controls our mass kedia and practices mind control upon us all.
Maybe the stakes are so high they must, or maybe like the youtube video often banned ‘A Rich Man’s Game’ it is just about keeping the rich rich and the rest of us sweating our asses to pay mortgages and bills.
I care not. My story personal. I have a son, whom I doubt I’ll save. Though I’ll try and may die in the process. Fear I can’t afford.
Must keep perceiving, analyzing, and seeing when perhaps an opportunity arises. Patience is a long game.
I am 54. I have time.
And I am perhaps my parents vengeance on these CIA folk. When I was 18, some months before he passed early at the age of 65, Dad told me things that made little sense at the time.
Mom fed me detective novels unwanted though read. As she got older the gangstalkers got her involved with our oh so corrupt criminal justice system. This done to keep her under wraps. She longed to tell me the trouble I was in. I recall her telling me of the supermarket traffic accident in which she was involved. She went futher to learn that these folk did this often to others. It broke her heart when her lawyer claimed he would present this to the court. He didn’t. She was beside herself.
In 2015, my ex-wife having sent my son as a weapon to get me arrested for his growing needlessly of growing 30 small pot plants.
This was consistent with what her lover/handler Alexander Tregubov told me via Skype in December 2014, that Svetlana had a plan to gain my US based assets, those she had failed to secure in our divorce in the fall of 2012.
A boy should be loyal to his mother. The court offered me a year parole, odd for a man with a clean record, an honorable discharge, having earned 2 million dollars. I refused, said let's have a trial for I had much to share from my time in the US and in Russia.
Front page stuff no doubt.
I considered my odds. The table was fixed, the criminal justice system corrupt. They changed their offer, offered that I get a few weeks counseling and remain unarrested for 12 months.
I went to counseling, saw an FBI guy in a utility truck just outside the Webster, NY home/office of counselor Tom Porpiglia, he like I ex-Harris though he a Vietnam vet, while I served from 84-90, a quiet time unless one counts The USS Samuel B. Roberts, the USS Vincennnes and the USS Stark. I took their deal figuring my odds of winning at less that 1%.
I decided to be father as mine had been not allowed and to forego exposing this plot international, most complex, and extremely difficult to prove. I am grateful for my son regardless of his allegiance to his corrupt Russian FSB mother. Such is a father’s love.
You decide was I correct. I have only a story to share.
Not like Myron May, but alone just the same. My two time Russian bride an FSB honeypot trap, raised poor though beautiful in the closed Soviet city of Gorkiy. Now open and called Nizhniy Novgorod.
Svetlana had a lover, Alexander Valerievich Tregubov. This Alexander poisoned me in August 2011, via a spiked beer. I lost 35 pounds in a month. Thought I was dying.
The next month my 79 year old mother died in an ICU with me holding her hand for those long 4 hours. The damage was done. I was a mess, depressed, my life changed in ways described in other blogs contained here.
Svetlana told me two things about Alexander, he was too controlling which she didn't like, and he graduated top of his class at an FSB PsyOps institute. She told me this with pride as he was selected to attend one of the four such institutions in Moscow and not the lone one in Nizhniy Novgorod. She was of this proud.
Together, with a man named Egish Khachatrian and a whore named Evgeniya Viktorovna Kosheleva, they conned me into believing first I was saving Svetlana in 1996 or so, saving Evgeniya in 2011/2012, and that I was under a death threat as a result in October 2013.
This voiced to me second hand by both Svetlana and Evgeniya so as to provide a cutout and a level of deniability. Another man, a friend of theirs voiced to me the same, his name Umar, last name forgotten, this I have on tape.
A few months back Svetlana lied as is her forte, telling me I left Russia in October 2013 for no reason and of my own accord.
We were about to take vacation at my expense in Thailand. I took a stand and told her I was not going to Thailand and she could go on her own as a result of her audacious lie.
She relented, admitted that she lied and promised to tell me the whole story once in Thailand. And there as was and as remains her habit, she said nothing. Better to lie to me than the FSB.
I’ve learned a lot since then, more than expected, certainly more than desired. I from birth am what they call in the parlance a Manchurian Candidate, a patsy for a presidential assassination planned by CIA to occur between 2012 and 2014. They failed or changed their minds.
Don’t know which.
Had it gone down, Obama dead, Biden installed (why do you think that corrupt old politician didn’t run? He didn’t think he’d have to) and me dead as patsy, my story buried in a grave with me.
Poor Lee Harvey Oswald. Don’t think he figured it out til close to the end.
That gut shot an exclamation point on his final chapter. I had the advantage of the internet, and that my wife kidnapped my son, that a man named Doug Boyce, currently an NCIS agent admitting to me, unasked in 2014, he had been CIA in Russia when we met in 1999.
This was confirmed to me by Scotsman Adrian Terris in Russia in early 2017, him likely MI6 and quite proud of it.
Nasty stuff had happened and continued. Canadian CSIS spy residing in Russia Kyle Patching attempted to play his card, darker than most, using psy ops tricks and messages to put the idea of suicide in my head.
Kyle had been introduced to me by another MI6 agent, named Patrick Naughter, now running a Hilton in Moscow.
Patrick is of note for his beautiful long eyelashes. He is dishonest as the day is long. Patrick admitted to me to sleeping regularly sleeping with a Russian whore named Tatiana Kim, a gal of Korean descent. Did he sleep with her as described (wonder what his wife Irina Naughter, a Russian gal would make of this either way) or was it a story, I am unlikely to know.
I slept with her, many times, for I thought it cool. The last time Christmas night 2011. She was drunk and I had at her condomless doggie style, for such was my mentality in those days. These days I am monklike sworn off sex to fill that chink in my armor.
The next day, December 26, 2011, I was called multiple times and fed a story that Evgeniya Kosheleva had been beaten by her pimp/lover Alexander Tregubov, this a fabrication, but it would take me three years to figure that out.
She and I chatted in 2019 briefly online wherein she claimed it was ‘fun’. I had fallen hard for her, harder than for my wife and also whore Svetlana Borisovna Chuloshnikova.
Why?
Genya was smaller, younger, far more petite, had a 5 year old son, worked in Russia as a whore under terms risky, work permit, visa, and airfare required.
And me?
Perhaps I saw Man of La Mancha and My Fair Lady too often. I was to be Batman, the hero, her saviour having failed Svetlana, who simply wanted to be by me impregnated.
You see, Tregubov was sterile. He told me in our initial meeting, he had served in Chechnya, and a bomb severed parts important.
True or not, I’ll never know. Though this admission so freely and excitedly given consistent with what Svetlana told me on June 20, 2014, that she never loved me, Tregubov could not impregnate her, she desperately wanted a child, wanted to rear him with the money I could provide, unlike her youth of Soviet poverty, and that she and Tregubov monitored my cell phones, internet access, emails, and whereabouts from 1997 when I lived in Siberia opening a mobile phone company now known as TELE2.
Those two lacked resources on their own to monitor me, and in conjunction with Doug Boyce, of CIA fame admitting to me in July 2014 that I was under monitoring, close supervision, it all came together. These words are read by some monkey at CIA as I type them, then as now.
These spies have a plan as articulated by Dane Ole Dammegard, to take our guns, and feed us as we do today bovines and sheep to a factory for the benefit of between 400 and 5000 wealthy families if one is to believe Ole’s paradigm as I do.
I’ve never met Ole, but suspect I’d like him if he could get over the discomfort of meeting me. I like Denmark, it used to be my sales territory while I worked at defense contractor Harris Corp.
I worked for a f***, excuse me, guy, named Dana Mehnert. Wonderful mind, perfect memory, and Bozo the clown like hair and voice. Lots to overcome. And he did.
He worked his way from sales manager to division president over a 30 year career. In fact good old Dana earned $3.2 million last year. This in large part due to the lie that is 9/11. I respect Dana, I don’t admire him or his ilk.
In 1995, while pursuing a large contract with the Danish special forces, the Jaegerkorpset, Dana and I sat once on the Nyhavn in Copenhagen, Denmark.
Dana had surprisingly invited me on a Saturday to join him for a pint. I was the new guy, hired to replace him and was thrilled. And as we sat on that Scandinavian wharf, a woman came up to me, as gorgeous as the day is long with a pervy old photographer. She stripped down, made herself nude, bush about a meter and a half from my face. Perfect tits of course.
And the old pervy guy took shot after shot. I thought wow this must be normal in Northern Europe.
It was not, simply part of a long term play of CIA of which Dana was aware, he and his endless promotions, and my retiring at 47, realizing I was targeted by CIA, and stateside FBI. Dana is now president of the Communication division of a much enlarged Harris Corp.
Dana, in my humble view, a wealthy scumbag, much like so many CIA enabled individuals, with whom I have had the misfortune of becoming acquainted. Stephen Gardner, David Eggers, Jeff Jones, Aaron Bogott, Steve Wayne, August Meyer, James Beatty, Paul Leonard, Dan Mead, Paul Smith, James Connel, Jr., Kelly Rivers, Tom Stansmore, Bradley Cook, Steve Caron, Tanya Dick, Karan Young, Sir John Dick (living as a baron of sorts on the isle of Jersey) John Varoli, and more.
Doug Valentine wrote an excellent book entitled, ‘CIA as Organized Crime’. Helped me immeasurably overcome the mind control programming we all receive via TV and movies.
Others, foreign spies, played their part as well. They put me at a disadvantage as I believieved CIA only worked with Americans. In this I was wrong. Germans David and Susanna Meerkatz, now divorced, Norwegian Henning Pedersen, New Zealanders David Fleming, Tony Czura, and Nicholas Thornton, Swedes Filip Engelbert and Jonas Nordlander. The world complex and spy agencies working together to gather riches, and subjugate the rest of us sheep.
They even got to my family, siblings Susan Macy in Salisbury, NH, brother John Macy in Portland Maine, half sister, Beth Heather Macy, Newbury, Ma. Beth wrote a book, so sympathetic and full of lies called ‘Many Worlds, Many Lies’, wherein she cries for family and yet discards me her half brother.
Sister Beth even gained a qualification as a therapist, this done to help solidify the CIA paradigm of me as nut job, lone shooter. They had all their bases covered, but one. Me. The wild card in this game so dark.
Few will read this blog. Fewer still will realize the truth, that CIA controls our mass kedia and practices mind control upon us all.
Maybe the stakes are so high they must, or maybe like the youtube video often banned ‘A Rich Man’s Game’ it is just about keeping the rich rich and the rest of us sweating our asses to pay mortgages and bills.
I care not. My story personal. I have a son, whom I doubt I’ll save. Though I’ll try and may die in the process. Fear I can’t afford.
Must keep perceiving, analyzing, and seeing when perhaps an opportunity arises. Patience is a long game.
I am 54. I have time.
And I am perhaps my parents vengeance on these CIA folk. When I was 18, some months before he passed early at the age of 65, Dad told me things that made little sense at the time.
Mom fed me detective novels unwanted though read. As she got older the gangstalkers got her involved with our oh so corrupt criminal justice system. This done to keep her under wraps. She longed to tell me the trouble I was in. I recall her telling me of the supermarket traffic accident in which she was involved. She went futher to learn that these folk did this often to others. It broke her heart when her lawyer claimed he would present this to the court. He didn’t. She was beside herself.
In 2015, my ex-wife having sent my son as a weapon to get me arrested for his growing needlessly of growing 30 small pot plants.
This was consistent with what her lover/handler Alexander Tregubov told me via Skype in December 2014, that Svetlana had a plan to gain my US based assets, those she had failed to secure in our divorce in the fall of 2012.
A boy should be loyal to his mother. The court offered me a year parole, odd for a man with a clean record, an honorable discharge, having earned 2 million dollars. I refused, said let's have a trial for I had much to share from my time in the US and in Russia.
Front page stuff no doubt.
I considered my odds. The table was fixed, the criminal justice system corrupt. They changed their offer, offered that I get a few weeks counseling and remain unarrested for 12 months.
I went to counseling, saw an FBI guy in a utility truck just outside the Webster, NY home/office of counselor Tom Porpiglia, he like I ex-Harris though he a Vietnam vet, while I served from 84-90, a quiet time unless one counts The USS Samuel B. Roberts, the USS Vincennnes and the USS Stark. I took their deal figuring my odds of winning at less that 1%.
I decided to be father as mine had been not allowed and to forego exposing this plot international, most complex, and extremely difficult to prove. I am grateful for my son regardless of his allegiance to his corrupt Russian FSB mother. Such is a father’s love.
You decide was I correct. I have only a story to share.
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