Greg and Evi have a new business!

To use to defraud people, undoubtedly.

http://www.cpsi4u.com

It looks like Greg’s keeping his name off it, perhaps because his scams are starting to catch up with him. I wouldn’t bet that they actually have the rights to do much of anything that they claim they can on the site.

This guy’s a conman. Don’t do business with him, or with Evi. They have stolen hundreds of thousands of dollars from investors, moving from country to country in Southeast Asia. They’re in Cambodia now, in Kampong Cham, pretending to run a security or property rental service. They’ve already ripped off business partners there. Don’t become one of them.

What to expect if you decide to do business with Greg and Evi

Greg and Evi thought they’d scam the Buddhist community in Luang Prabang, taking $18,000 to do construction work for them and trying to leave the country without finishing (or mostly even starting) it. Frauds.

Click to access b5a83cae58.pdf

Evi

Ah, and here’s Evi, in case you were wondering how to identify her. Sorry it’s a bit blurry.

 

If you think you have met these people or you have any questions, do feel free to contact me through this blog. More than feel free — please, please do before you waste your time and money.

Courtesy

“You are wrong. You are not a journalist you are a propagandist that
has started to believe your own stories. courtesy[ kur-tuh-see
kurt-see ]
noun [plural cour·te·sies.]
1. excellence of manners or social conduct; polite behavior.
2. a courteous, respectful, or considerate act or expression.
3. indulgence, consent, or acquiescence: a “colonel” by courtesy
rather than by right.” July 4

Courtesy! Ha. Courtesy would have been returning my things — or, you know, not taking them in the first place. Paying bills — that would have been courteous.

Being harangued about courtesy by a liar and a thief is pretty funny, especially one who always* dismissed manners and civility as anathema to the real, to the hard truths that he represented, baby. Rich, very rich.

*Of course there is no “always” with Greg, only “when it suits him.”  Heh.

I know, I know.

This probably seems quite shrill. It’s very Say Anything–I keep humming the

song when I start to write here. It probably seems stupid, if you haven’t lost years of your life, or talked to people who have lost more, and really, really wished there had been a way around it.

I don’t care what Greg does, or Evi, or how they live or where or anything else. I’m not interested. But I am interested in doing what I can to prevent this from happening to someone else. So look, if you’ve met this guy, if he’s being kind and charming to you and it seems like exactly what you need because, secretly, you could use a friend, especially one who texts you every day just to tell you that you’re wonderful, who’s helpful exactly when you need it, who is generous and seems to want nothing more than your company, who seems full of the best ideas and just on the brink of success and so excited to have you be part of it–just please, keep your eyes open. Notice that nothing goes right. Notice the ratio of promises kept to those broken. Just notice how time rolls on and nothing happens. He’ll collect deposits. Maybe they’ll build a few crappy versions of whatever they’re selling, slowly, over time…and in a few years, they’ll try to sneak away again.

Just don’t buy into it. History says you’ll end up with nothing. I’m just trying to help here.

Welcome back!

More bullshit for you, ladies and gentlemen: The man who told me to put my things–most of what I own–in storage for him to take care of, then claimed they were lost, then claimed they were out of his control, is now desperately trying to get me to contact him by telling me he’s going to return this stuff. Would you believe it? I don’t. When, months ago, I was asking him to please, if he ever cared about me at all, return my personal things, my family pictures, gifts, mementos of journeys, he had no interest. But he doesn’t like being ignored, I guess, and this is the last string he thinks he can pull.

I don’t like getting these emails from him, but the legalese is always a hoot. As are his confessions that he now sees his own pathology–followed by a much more detailed discussion of why, really, I’m totally fucked up, too. Like this:

There is no reason for you to belive what I am rrying to tell you
here..but I want to tell you anyhow..For months I have struggled to
understand my nature.  I have sought professional advice and the help
of others and spent weks in contemlation. [He probably talks to you about the time he spends in contemplation. He told me for a year that he was seeking help to understand his “true nature,” a pet phrase.] And as I aproach that understanding I am both horrified and releived. I think I know what I am now.
I apologise for the pain I have caused you. [No he doesn’t. He has actually never apologized for anything. I’ve asked. If I bothered to ask again, he’d apologize vaguely for nothing, then attack me for my failings.]

At first as my awareness grew I wanted to simply end it to kll myself. Then I was overwhelmed
by anger. Finally I have decided to take this understanding of the nature of my madness and use it to do good. To spend the last quater of my life in service. [This is another favorite phrase. He spends no time in service to anyone but himself, I guarantee you.]

Once again there is no reason for you to believe me but there are some
things I want to tell you. Firstly and most importantly I want you to understand that it is
possible for someone like me to experience love and thst I have loved
you more than reason. It was a new experience for me and I handled it
badly. But you cannot claim that what I felt and still do feel for you
was false or trivial.

I also want to tell you that you behaved at times in ways that were
cruel and unreasonable. That I think that like me empathy is difficult
for you and that you have been since I have known you ultimatly
focused on your own needs and desires.
Aw, sweet. I’m not sure what I did to indicate a lack of empathy, other than empathizing the hell out of the series of increasingly absurd problems he claimed to had befallen him. The town conspiring against him, friends getting sick, friends killing themselves, friends betraying him, a government plot…ah, at that point, perhaps, my empathy began to stretch. What a bitch I am, huh?

All I’m asking, folks, is that if you meet this guy, don’t give him anything. Not trust, not money, not affection, not for a minute. It’s not going to be returned. This is not for me, this is not for him — this is for you, whoever you are. This is a warning.

Here he is again.

 

Verse

It’s hard to maintain a blog about just one thing, especially such a pathetic thing. Getting the daily sniveling emails helps, I suppose. He’s been attempting poetry:

Temple drums

sacred tree flower’s scent

Peace found and lost

and

Mountain sky

Joy betrayed

Peace no more

and

Joy dispursed in lies

Hope eroded by

assumption;

Why live.

— all from June 1. Grammatical and spelling errors all his, of course.

 

I’m not sure how to make it all hang together. I’m only doing this in hopes that if someone like me–someone in Cambodia or Myanmar, maybe–meets Greg and starts to be swept away, that he or she will find this and think twice.

Perhaps you’ve met this guy and he’s telling you about his military record. I’ve never found it. Or his PhD or his multiple degrees. Look them up. They don’t exist. Perhaps he’s confiding in you that he’s working for the Australian embassy in whatever country he’s in. By all means, call them. He isn’t.

It’s easy to let yourself believe, however. Records don’t exist because of his super-secret missions. Same with the embassy–he’s operating in the grey area where everything happens, doncha know, but where nothing is discussed. He’s not a Western man, baby–that’s why his conversations are so self-aggrandizing; that’s why he enumerates his degrees every chance he gets, brags about his fighting skills (though never actually demonstrates them), whines about his sad family life, his brittle persona, his devastating empathy. But of course, it’s not that he’s your special diamond in the rough. He just wants to look at himself in your eyes as he talks about himself. It’s a sick little masturbation, and you’ve become part of it.

If you have a year of your life to throw away, or money to invest in a sham company like Teknomadic, the one he half built and abandoned in Luang Prabang, Laos, by all means, listen. If you don’t, just take a bit of a closer look. He’s selling you a world built on his word, and his word is worthless.

Greg Blake

 

Greg Blake

So this guy, Greg Blake, he’s probably living in Southeast Asia. Phnom Penh, it looks like. Maybe you’ve met him, maybe you’re doing a search on this guy who’s been telling you what a special, special being you are, and what a special being he is (like Hanuman, he likes to say). Maybe he’s suggesting you invest in whatever “business” he has going. Maybe he’s just trying to seduce you. Undoubtedly he’s offering you what he thinks you want, and trying, and probably succeeding, in making you think that something you dreamed of, secretly, might be able to come true. Don’t believe him. He’s lying.

I get emails from Greg almost daily.

May 11: “I really am just miserable because you feel tge way you do about me.”
I feel the way I do about him because he lied to me, exposed me to disease, stole from me and wasted a year of my life.

May 5: “Love is not a rational thing …. i dont like what you are but your
essence i would die for….”

He writes a lot about not liking me. He also writes a lot about missing me and loving me. He writes about using a shotgun on me. He describes landscapes that he’s not in, journeys he’s not taking, company he’s not with. He writes even though I’ve asked him to stop. It’s fine. I don’t mind fielding or deleting these mad messages. I’d just like to spare someone else from ending up in the same position.